Hepsie walked towards the cottage, her arm tucked neatly in the crook of Arran’s, listening to him prattle on about the farm and what Noah had managed to do last Sunday. Hepsie was glad to see such admiration in the boy. Noah was a good man, and he had a good little wife. They had done a very fine thing taking in this lonely, grief stricken soul. Their tiny cottage was almost bursting at the seams, what with the new baby and Arran, not to mention Dog. And yet they had not hesitated.

“Well here we are then Goodwife Cade”, Arran said politely as they reached the house. It had been a rough journey for Hepsie in the wagon, and she could feel the weight of the baby throbbing in her bad ankle. But she was not one to doubt the word of a solemn man like Noah. She knew he would not have sent for her unless he was sure there was something wrong.

She had a dreadfully tough time convincing Steen to let her go, especially when she told him her plans to stay for a week or so to help her friend with the baby. He had grown more sullen as the weeks went by and she hobbled around after everyone. She understood his concern, but if there was anyone who knew about childbearing it was Hepsie. It didn’t matter that this was her first time, she knew she was healthy and in good condition. Maybe she was a little tired, but who wasn’t after all?

And so he had finally grudgingly agreed, sending her off on the proviso that she was wrapped in her thick woollen coat. The scratchy thing was hanging limply over her shoulders, the humidity of the day permeated the thick fibres so that her arms were sticking unpleasantly to the fabric.

“Thankin’ yew kindly Arran… and aren’t yew remeberin’. I’ve been tellin’ yew to be callin’ me Hepsie for these last weeks gone”.

He smiled cheerfully at her, a pleasant boyish grin, peeking from beneath his tousled hair.

“I be knowin’ that Good.. Hepsie”, he corrected himself, “because yew are bein’ very good after all. But I always be forgettin’. I’m bein’ ever so sorry”.

“Now then Arran… what did I be tellin’ yew ’bout goin’ round apologising to folks all day long… yew always say sorry an’ folks will think it’s bein’ yer fault and start blamin’ yew fer things”.

“Oh… sorry Good… I mean… oh blast!”, Arran chuckled, his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment, “Well… I best be off to be helpin’ Noah with them there pigs”.

He scuttled off round the corner, as Hepsie wearily limped up the stairs. How could five steps be so difficult to conquer.

“It’s bein’ yer fault yew fat littl’ thing yew”, she whispered to her belly.

The door was ajar, letting the heavy breeze circulate around the tiny room. Hepsie shrugged off her coat with relief, despite the fact that her exposed sticky skin cooled only slightly at the touch of the moist air.

“Gena”, she called out gently in case the baby were sleeping. Perhaps Gena was asleep too, Noah had told her the young woman was exhausted. She turned the corner to look for a place to neatly fold her coat and was surprised to see Gena sitting at the small table in the corner. Her eyes were half closed, her head drooping listlessly on her shoulders.

Hepsie could not help but be shocked at her appearance. Gena was a neat woman, always conscious of the state of her clothes, perhaps fearing the enhanced judgemental nature of those looking upon her. Now her dress was covered with stains, some at least days old, while there was a large new patch of what looked like baby spittle drying on her shoulder.

And Gena usually tied her hair back as carefully as she could without being able to see her reflection. Even though wisps often softly found there wat down around her face, it was always apparent that she had made an effort. But today Gena piled her hair messily on top of her head, tying it haphazardly with a scarf, sweaty strands hanging down around her flushed face.

“Gena”, she repeated again, this time her tone firmer.

The other woman was started out of her reverie, her head slowly rising up, a smile forcing its way across her resisting face.

“Oh…Hepsie… how lovely”, Gena’s voice sounded dull and hollow, the faint echoing rebound in the depths of a canyon.

“Aren’t yew goin’ to ask yer old friend to have a sit down then?”, Hepsie asked jovially, “my feet are just about killin’ me. And me back too…”.

“Oh… yes.. of course”, Gena replied listlessly.

Hepsie lowered herself heavily into the chair, “Well I got lots of grace left in me as yew can tell. If I have to be curtseyin’ one more time for that ruddy Radomir I’m thinkin’ I’ll just be floppin’ on the floor at his feet like a turtle on me back, wavin’ me poor swollen ankles in the air”.

“Now dear”, she smiled broadly while closely watching her friend’s face, “How is that dear young Derrin of ours then?”.

She had been warned by Noah that Gena’s reaction to the boy was not exactly normal, but she hadn’t been expecting this.

Gena’s head sank slowly, the corners of her mouth drooping, her shoulders slumping as though her whole body were dragging downwards by some force pulling from below.

“What’s wrong love?”, Hepsie asked gently, “Is that baby not lettin’ yew get enough sleep at night?”.

A great sob choked Gena’s throat and she buried her face in her hands her shoulders shaking softly.

Hepsie had definitely not been prepared for this. She had heard of mother’s who didn’t take to their babies the way that was normal, but she had never seen it herself and certainly had not expected it of Gena. The young woman had been so looking forward to having her baby.

“Oh love… there now, yew let it out and talk to yer old Hepsie. What’s troublin’ yew dearheart”.

She waited patiently while Gena sniffled, wiping her eyes on an already grimy sleeve.

“He doesn’ love me Hepsie… my son doesn’ love me”, she sighed deeply, her body sinking lower in the chair, “He knows I’m not bein’ a good mother and he doesn’ want me”.

Hepsie opened her mouth to say something but shut it again when Gena continued.

“An’ they’re all goin’ to be knowin’ an’ then they’ll come here an’ they’ll say… “Gena Ulcar… yer not fit to be a mother. God musta made a mistake givin’ yew that baby because yew don’t love him as yew should an yew aren’t the mother fer him”. And then they’ll be takin’ him”.

“An’ Hepsie”, she said in a tiny voice, “I don’t know if I would mind just to stop hearin’ him cryin’ all the time… the poor littl’ soul knowin’ who his mother is an’ cryin’ his littl’ heart out in grief of his misfortune in this life”.

“Gena Ulcar”, Hepsie scolded, “Now yew just stop right there feelin’ miserable fer yerself. Yer baby isn’ cryin’ fer any reason other than the littl’ mites are always weepin’ an’ wailen’. It’s what babies do love. Doesn’ matter who his mother was he’d still be wailin’ his littl’ lungs out cause he’s knowin’ its the best way to get his Ma to come and be holdin’ him the way he likes”.

“An’ no one’s goin’ to be takin’ him from yew. Yer just as fit as the rest of us are bein’ to have a baby, as God as surely shown yew… better than most fer that matter, all the squalling whores my Ma helped with the birthin’”.

“Yew need to be pullin’ yerself together and stoppin’ with this nonsense. Littl’ Derrin loves yew in a way he’ll never love noone else and that’s bein’ somethin’ special”.

“But Hepsie”, she whimpered, “I don’t like him sometimes when he’s cryin’. Sometimes I don’t like him an awful lot”.

Hepsie chuckled heartily over the worries in her heart, “Don’t yew think everyone sometimes is feelin’ like that. I know the Queen herself tells me sometimes the baby is cryin’ so much she feels like screamin’ and cryin’ too till she’s blotchy and red in the face like the littl’ prince”.

“The Queen”, Gena whispered.

“Not just the Queen but the rest too… them babies of Lady Hwratar’s. Sometimes there bein’ so noisy I want to wring their dear littl’ necks. There’s a reason it’s bein’ such a terrible sound an’ that’s to be makin’ the Ma be sittin’ up and takin’ notice because it’s bein’ feedin’ time”.

“It isn’ bein’ cause he doesn’ love yew dear, it’s cause he does an’ he knows yer the one who takes care of him an’ loves him”, she said it with conviction, knowing that these were the ideas that frightened Gena.

Gena sighed weakly, “Maybe yer bein’ right”.

Hepsie laboriously rose to her feet and waddled over, pulling Gena to her feet and then into a very pregnant embrace.

“Of course I’m bein’ right yew silly goose. When have yew ever know’d me not to be bein’ right?”

“Now then”, she said, taking Gena by the hands, “what on earth have yew been doin’ to that dress of yers… an’ yer poor hair, bein’ messed up in that great knot sittin’ atop yer head”.

Gena giggled self-consciously and Hepsie was pleased to see a slight smile creeping shamefully back to her face.

“First of all let’s be fixin’ that hair of yers. Then we’ll see if there isn’ bein’ something clean we can be puttin’ on yew while we wash that there dress o’ yers”.

“Come an be sittin’ over here fer me that’s a good girl”.

Gena sank wearily into the chair and Hepsie began to unwind the scarf from around her knotty hair.

She started to brush out the knots with her fingers.

“What were yer thinkin’ love… these are bein’ dreadful tangles. Looks like yew haven’ brushed yer hair for days”.

“I haven’”, Gena softly admitted, “I was just bein’ so tired and it’s bein’ so hard to make it sit nice”.

“Well then, it’s a good thing yer Hepsie’s been sittin’ around by the poor Countess’ bedside fer these last days. Yew know me, can’t sit still so I been makin’ somethin’ fer yew”.

“Yew have”, Gena asked in surprise.

“I have”, she replied, “Now just let me be findin’ it in my coat”

She rummaged around for a moment, retrieving the item which she laid on the table while she began to braid Gena’s hair.

“It’s bein a hair net… pretty too with yellow thread and littl’ white daisies woven through it”, she carefully fixed it over Gena’s braid.

“There now, that ought to be holdin’ most of them stray hairs in their place”, she exclaimed, satisfied with the finished result.

Gena stood up carefully stroking her head with trembling hands.

“It’s bein’ so neat”, she said in a hushed voice, “an’ so fine. Oh Hepsie, yew shouln’ have”.

“Of course I should silly… an’ yew know what else. I’m goin’ to be stayin’ with yew for a bit to help with the baby while those silly men yew got hangin’ around here run around after them pigs”.

“Thank you Hepsie”, she said softly.

“Well then, yer bein that welcome!”

“Now let’s be seein’ what’s happenin’ with that boy o’ yers. I guess it’s probably about feedin’ time eh?”.

She watched Gena’s face closely as she mentioned the baby, waiting for some reaction, hoping for some sign of happiness, fearing some return of Gena’s earlier misery. She did not get either.

Noah carefully raised his hands in the air, ready to grasp the squealing pig at his feet. He had spent the majority of the cool spring day slipping around in the pig pen, trying in vain to catch the squirming creatures. Being a carpenter, he had never before had the occasion to capture a pig and he now knew that it was not as easy it looked.

Not to mention that the icy morning sleet had turned the pig pen into a muddy nightmare of scattering pink bodies, and splattered boots. He brought his hands down slowly until they were on either side of the pig’s rotund body and reached out to grasp it with his strong hands.

Suddenly the pig gave a mighty squeal and skittered into the corner of the pen cowering with the other muddy grunting bodies. He swore softly under his breath and then he heard the sound that had startled them and he was over the fence and running before he could even think.

His heart was in his throat as he raced around to the front of the cottage, so he thought he would choke before he ever reached the source of that dreadful sound. His ears were filled with the babies wailing and the sharp desperate barking of Dog.

He opened the door expecting to see the mauled body of his son, Dog standing above him with a bloodied muzzle.

Dog was standing above Derrin but his body was protectively curved over the tiny, weeping baby. He was sniffing carefully at the child, lifting his head occasionally to bark loudly. When he saw Noah standing at the door, his mouth spread into a joyous grin, tongue lolling and he gave the baby one last soft nuzzle and padded over to Noah.

Noah was dizzy with relief as he leant down to scratch the top of Dog’s head. An unpleasant pang of guilt sidled through him reminding him that a moment earlier he had pictured the animal a brute.

“It’s a good boy yer bein’. Now yew best be gettin’ outside. And don’t yew be hasslin’ at them poor old pigs again yer hear me”.

Dog woofed in reply and trotted outside happily, most likely straight towards the pig pen and frightened pigs, thought Noah.

Noah gazed down at his son who was lying on the bare floor boards. He had stopped sobbing for a moment to stare wide-eyed up at his father, his tear-stained face full of confusion at his current situation.

He bent down and picked up Derrin, feeling with horror how cold the baby was. It was a chill afternoon and they had not yet lit a fire in the main room.

As soon as he was safe in Noah’s arms, Derrin began to shriek again, with long hiccuping sobs of indignation at his unfair treatment. Noah tried his best to comfort the little boy, hoisting him onto his shoulder, snuggling him against his neck. He briskly rubbed at the baby’s limbs and back trying to return some warmth to them.

Eventually Derrin stopped crying, resting his tiny face wearily against Noah’s shoulder, his limbs hanging limply.

What on Earth had Gena been thinking leaving him there like that? Then his throat constricted again and a great rush of fear pumped through his veins, his heart fluttering so wildly he thought the baby pressed against it must have been disturbed. He had forgotten all about Gena in his concern for their son.

He crossed the room in an instant, throwing wide the door without preparation for what he might find there.

But all he found was Gena sitting on the edge of the bed, her face turned towards the window as though she could gaze out at the gathering storm clouds, descending on the mountain peaks.

At the sound of his entrance her little hands clenched into fists and he saw that her shoulders had begun to shake like the rustling leaves of a tree as the wind gusts through it the moment before it rains.

“Gena…”, he had only said one word, the warmth of it rising up to meet her chill and the rain came pouring down.

She gave a single sob, her face collapsing into her hands, blades of rain slicing into the leaves and smashing into the ground.

Noah was not an emotional man but at that moment he didn’t know whether to feel brutally angry, compassionate or dreadfully afraid.

He silently went over to the crib with Derrin who was warm now and sleeping soundly in his arms. He carefully lay him down, his hands steady as always, not betraying the disquiet he felt within.

The he turned to his wife who had stopped crying, and now sat, her back to him, her hands clutching at the fabric over her thighs so tightly he could see the whites of her knuckles. Her body was still trembling slightly, the rain subsiding for the moment but the branches still shivering with anticipation for the next downpour.

“Gena…”, he said her name softly, the syllables rolling like thunder from his mouth.

She did not turn so he was obliged to walk around the side of the bed so he could see her face.

She did not speak, her attention fixed on a small thread that had come loose from her dress. She was winding it round her fingers so tightly he could see the deep criss-crossing indentations it made when unravelled, angry red lines marring her delicate pale skin.

“Gena, what were yew thinkin’ leavin’ him out there in the cold like that?”, he asked, his tone more puzzled than accusatory.

She turned her face towards him, and the corners of her mouth drooped downwards, swollen petals sagging under the onslaught of water. She looked exhausted, her head lolling on her shoulders, the stem unable to support the weight any longer.

“He wouldn’ stop cryin’. He was just cryin’ and cryin’ and nothin’ I could do would be makin’ him stop”, she paused for a moment as though a rest was necessary, “I couldn’ bear it anymore so I been puttin’ him in that there other room for a moment so I didn’ have to listen to him”.

Noah was shocked and could not hide it, he knew she had noticed his sharp intake of breath at her explanation.

Suddenly her demanour changed, her shoulders slumping, part of the river bank dislodged spiralling into the rushing water below to be swept away and she began to wring her hands in dismay.

“Oh Noah, what was I thinkin’, leavin’ poor little Derrin out there. I thought it’d just be for a minute then when I was sittin’ here I couldn’ even be bringin’ myself to get up again”.

Noah could have interrupted her, told her what he thought of her behaviour but he thought it best to let her speak. He could tell there was something very wrong. Things had not been right since Derrin had been born, she hadn’t seemed to experience any of the joy that usually overcame new mothers. More and more he had found he weeping beside Derrin’s crib, or sitting dejectedly at the table her head in her hands. He had tried to discuss it with her many times but she had always dismissed the topic with a forced smile. Now that it was flooding out, sloshing at the confining banks he did not think it wise to hault the overflow.

“I… I’m just bein’ so tired Noah, I can’t be doin’ it. I knew I would be bein’ a bad mother and they all knew… and look I been provin’ em right. Can’t take care of me own baby and they goin’ to know… they goin’ to know…”, she broke off into a desperate sob, “and they goin’ to take him away. I’m just knowin’ they are”.

“An he doesn’ love me… little Derrin, he knows I’m not bein’ a good mother and he knows I can’t be seein’ him. He’s knowin’ it! And he don’t love me!”.

It was too much, Noah couldn’t bear it anymore and he swept her up into his arms, the water lapping ineffectively at the barricade of his embrace.

“Now yew be listenin’ here. Yer a wonderful mother, and little Derrin over there in his crib loves yew with all his wee heart. He don’t be mindin’ that yew can’t see him, it’s yer voice and yer touch that’s bein’ important to him”.

He tenderly lifted her hand to his face so she could trace the lines of his expression.

“The amount of love that’s bein’ in that there hand of yer’s, how could he not be feelin’ it?”, he asked, smiling softly so she could feel the upward curve of his lips.

“Now yew know what I be thinkin’”, he murmured, “I think it’s bein’ time his mama be havin’ a rest too. She’s lookin’ real tired and the littl’un over there be sleepin’ soundly so I think it’s bein’ yer turn”.

He began to carefully undress her unresisting body, as soft rain began to patter on the window pane. She leaned on him heavily, her trembling arms around his shoulders, her face buried in his hair.

She lifted her arms weakly for him to slide her nightgown over them, the soft folds of material falling around the battered trunk of her body.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled feebly to her chest, tears trickling softly down her cheeks, tiny spatters or rain making wet spots on the flimsy fabric of her nightgown.

“Yer alright love, yer just bein tired is all, in need of a bit of a rest. Yew’ll feel better when yew be wakin’ up”, Noah had the ability to sound convincing and comforting even when he did not believe in what he was saying. He knew his wife and he knew when something was wrong. And something was very wrong.

He helped her lie down, rubbing her back and kissing her neck, pulling the covers up around her tired body.

He sat with her until she fell asleep, looking at the the swollen moist inside of her lips as she inhaled and exhaled, the flushed rosy pink of her cheeks, her eyes closed tightly like flowers folding shut in the cool, afternoon air.

He would send Arran for Hepsie and see what she could do. He was sure she would understand what was wrong with Gena better than he could. He would send for Hepsie.

Noah listened politely while Arran chattered incessantly about the coming spring, the new work planned for the church and the castle and anything else he could think of.

Noah understood that he was trying to distract him from the dreadful cries of agony coming from the next room intermittently. And he appreciated what the young man was trying to do, but he thought if he mentioned foundations or ploughing one more time he too would begin to scream through his clenched teeth and once he started he would not be able to stop.

“Yew see… I figure… if we bein’ puttin’ in these wooden latts in a manner like this ‘ere”, he demonstrated enthusiastically with his arms, “then we’d be all set”.

“I mean, if we was to… “, he trailed off with a grimace as another anguished screech echoed around the small room, amplified by the stone walls surrounding them.

Had Noah known the effect those walls would produce he would never have built them. Right at this moment he wanted to tear them down with his bare hands, anything to stop that terrible sound. If something happened to her he would anyway, breaking apart all his careful work, smashing the rocks to pieces, his axe slicing through the wooden fence she had stroked, digging up the trees he had planted dirt pushing beneath his fingernails, the grainy brown material scraping along the fibres of his heart.

“Sorry lad… “, he mumbled, “don’t think I’m really bein’ in a talkin’ mood anymore. Thanks all the same”.

Arran nodded mutely, with a distraught look, his next sentence dying on his lips. Noah knew that the poor boy, eager to please as he was, was probably scolding himself inwardly for talking too much, perhaps for saying the wrong things. Right at that moment Noah could not even bring himself to care.

He slowly rose from his chair and went over to the window, gazing at the snow-covered fields, distorted by his hot breath panting onto the frosty glass. The world outside was muted pink, the last stars winking out over the horizon. It was dawn and his wife had lain in that tiny room he had built for them for almost a day.

He suddenly had a desperate urge to be outside, where there was no sound but the infinitely soft thud, as tiny snowflakes spiralled down to the ground, and the hollow sound of the wind through the deadened trees.

He fled the closeness of the tiny room with its carefully packed walls, its merrily crackling fire and the awkward conversation of a sad young man, a gust of frigid wind hitting his face as he opened the door.

He cautiously picked his way down the slippery embankment of snow, shivering slightly as the tang of the cold breeze caressed his body. He stood gazing out to sea, under a roof of cypress trees that creaked in dismay under the weight of the countless tiny flakes that had never made it to the ground.

The water gleamed blue in the early light, chill tongues of ice reaching out from the shoreline towards the darker water where sluggish currents still stirred.

He could venture out on that ice, painstakingly making his way over the frozen path. The grating sound in his ears as the ice below his feet began to deform, the tiny crystals kinking and bending until the strain became too much, brittle fractures rampaging through like fast growing roots. Then there would be the dreadful roar as the seemingly solid ground cracked below his feet, the dark, cold water rushing up to meet him as he scrabbled uselessly with numbing fingers on the edges. The first breath taken, the burning of icy water rushing into his resisting lungs, a struggle and then quiet, spiralling towards the depths.

He heard a gentle padding sound behind him, and turned slightly to see Dog gingerly picking his way over the snow, lifting his paws high in a futile attempt to keep them warm.

He came and sat silently at Noah’s feet without the usual whining and begging. It seemed that he understood the solemnity of the morning and for once Noah was glad for the company.

They stayed there for a long time as the sun began to peek her rosy face over the sparkling white fields and the icy blue sea.

He heard an awkward crunching behind him but he dared not turn around for fear of who it might be and what they might have to say to him.

Hepsie came to stand silently beside him. Still he dared not look at her, desperately afraid of what he might find in her face.

“Ooh… now then yew big ruddy baby… I know it’s bein’ that cold out here an yew’ve had a hard day but that’s not bein’ a good reason to start kickin’ at yer poor old Ma”, she rubbed her moving belly painfully until the baby began to calm.

With a burst of courage he turned towards Hepsie, gazing at the soft lines of her face. She was not paying attention to him, her concentration centred on soothing the small being inside her.

She looked exhausted, dark circles around her eyes, her head drooping wearily. Her hair had escaped it’s usual tight bun and hung in sweaty curls around her shoulders.

“Now good sir”, she said turning to Noah with a broad grin, “I am bein’ that pleased to announce that yew are the father of a healthy son… that big he’s bein’ though… and he was so turned around… gave yer poor wife a dreadful time he did”.

“My wife”, he croaked, unable to bring himself to speak properly

“Oh the poor lamb… she’ll be just fine. She’s a bit tired is all. So I’m bein’ as well fer that matter. And I think yew too”.

His heart was suddenly filled with an overwhelming joy and he scooped Hepsie into his arms planting a large kiss on her flushed, cold little cheek.

“Thank yew”, he murmured unable to say anything else, choking slightly on these simple words.

“Yer bein’ welcome Noah love”, she replied, smiling wearily at him, “it was my pleasure to be bringin’ another bonnie wee lad like him into this world. And God’s own pleasure to let me be the one to do it”.

She whistled softly, “He’s bein’ the fifth boy bein’ born this month. Better be gettin’ some girls soon or there be bein’ an awful lot of fightin’ over poor wee Aisling when they grow up”.

Suddenly her smile fell and all that was left was the sagging features of exhaustion pulling heavily at her face.

“Yew be gentle with that wife of yer’s then Noah. She’s had a real rough time of it and she’s goin’ to need both yew and Arran to take good care of her”.

He nodded mutely and they walked back to the house together, Dog trotting along beside them, his eager footsteps squeaking softly in the newly fallen snow.

He accepted Arran’s congratulations as quickly as he could without seeming cruel and then opened the door and walked into the room.

Gena inclined her head towards him as she always did when she heard his footsteps. However her usual radiant smile was missing, her lips slack, her face drawn and weary. Her hair was plastered around her flushed expressionless face.

He bent down and gently kissed her clammy forward, stroking her hot cheeks with his chilled hand. She did not reach out to feel his features as she usually did when he was close, her hands resting wearily on her still swollen belly.

“He’s bein’ over in that there cradle if yew want to be seein’ him”, she murmured, her voice soft as though speaking were a great effort, “yer son”.

Something about what she said disturbed him, though he could not work out what it was and so he crept over to the cradle to peer in.

He gazed down at the baby in wonder. He was indeed a robust little thing with rosy skin, and strong kicking legs. His face was turned towards the wall and suddenly Noah desperately wanted him to turn and look at him.

He reached down a tentative hand, his big rough fingers gently hovering above the chubby body lying restlessly in the crib. His courage faltered, his fingers almost brushing the tiny creature but then retracting to hide shamefully curled inwards to the palm of his hand at the last minute.

Then it did not matter because the baby turned his head to stare up at his father, his brown eyes blinking with curiosity at this new face above him.

“Gena love…”, he breathed, “He’s being the most amazin’ thing I’ve ever been seein’”.

He heard her sigh deeply from across the room, the sound hissing from her exhausted lungs and through her drooping lips.

“I wouldn’ be knowin’ cause I can’t be seein him”, she said dully.

And then he realised what was bothering him. She had said his son, not theirs.

Gena sighed happily as she softly stroked the smooth wood of the cradle Noah had built for their baby. It was a fine crib, made with loving hands that had carefully sanded down each tiny splinter in preparation for the tiny, soft skinned creature that would lie within.

She knew that she should not be so filled with joy. A dreadful threat to their happiness lurked somewhere on the island and she felt that she would usually have been terribly worried by such things. But she could not help but feel warm and glowing, knowing that before the next moon she would be meeting the tiny creature growing inside her belly.

Her drowsy reverie was interrupted by her rumbling stomach and sudden thoughts of dinner.

“Oh goodness, what a silly old biddy I be bein’ then”, she scolded herself, “I’ve been forgettin’ entirely to put on that poor man’s dinner and he’ll be comin’ home any minute”.

She hurried into the other room and hastily stoked the fire which was starting to die.

“Now… what on Earth am I going to make”, she thought to herself.

This wasn’t like her, she always had dinner ready on the stove when Noah walked in the door. She knew he worked hard and was usually starving by the time he arrived home.

“It’s bein’ your fault little one, yer addlin’ me brain yew are”, she gently chided her enormous belly.

“Well I better get too it then”, she bent down with a sigh and tried to reach the bag of flour at her feet. It wasn’t an easy task and she managed to spill a large quantity down the front of her apron. She manage to get to her feet again and stood their breathing heavily, pushing the strands of hair that had fallen into her face back with fingers stained white with the powdery substance.

“Oof”, she cried out loud as the baby casually extended a foot, “This is no time for yer fun and games yew little squab. I’m in hurry now… yew can be kickin’ me all yer like later”.

The candles, she remembered suddenly. She could happily potter around their small cottage in the dark, it made no difference to her of course and it did save them a lot of wax. But her husband, it wouldn’t be very nice for him to arrive home to a completely dark house. She felt around for the flint, and standing on her toes carefully lit the flames.

“He should have been home already”, she thought to herself with concern. The rational part of her brain was telling her he was fine, she knew he was out searching for the vagabond, perhaps even a murderer with the other men. But it was impossible to quiet the tiny voice that kept saying, “But Gena… what if something has happened to him, perhaps he will never come home and you will be left waiting in the dark alone”.

She went to the door and opened it wide, a gust of chill wind battering into her, icy snowflakes prickling her face.

She wrapped her arms around herself, to protect her body from the bone-chilling cold that was penetrating her woolen dress. She hadn’t realised until now what a fine house her husband had built her. She had no idea it was so freezing outside, happily tucked away in the warmth of their little cottage.

She heard a distant crunching sound, over the howling voice of the wind as it rushed through the willows by the creek. It was the tread of footsteps in the snow.

It must be Noah! She called out his name tentatively but the fingers of the wind immediately whipped it away, out to sea.

“Noah!”, she called out more loudly, a tendril of fear delicately curving its way around her heart.

Her cry was answered by a long howl that sent shivers of dread down her spine. Amongst the crunching footsteps, she could now hear a panting sound, the smacking of strands of saliva as they were licked up by a tongue. The footsteps were coming towards her rapidly and the creature would be upon her at any moment. She had not time to run and braced herself for the impact of its heavy body with terrified sob.

She had expected to feel the rows of sharp teeth piercing her soft flesh, the heavy body standing over her ripping at her throat. Her arms were wrapped protectively around her belly. If the beast took her perhaps they could still save her baby.

She screamed as she felt a long tongue slide over her hand, leaving a sticky trail of drool. She felt a cold wet nose desperately pressing against her, inhaling the scent of her dress and hands. Her ears were filled with the sound of joyful woofing.

“Get off her yew dumb beast”, she heard the deep voice of her husband, and his heavy tread crunching through the thick snow.

She almost sobbed in relief, her husband was here to rescue her from this creature. Although he didn’t seem to be taking the matter very seriously. His well-placed footsteps indicated he was walking slowly up the path. Shouldn’t he be running to save her?

“Well me love”, he said in his even-toned voice, “I see yew’ve met Dog there”.

“And as fer yew, yew silly mutt”, his voice raised slightly as he scolded the dog, “I told yew not to be boundin’ on ahead like that scarin’ the poor lady”.

“Sorry Gena love, I didn’ realise yewed be standin’ there on the porch waitin’ fer me. Let’s be gettin’ yew inside, yer not dressed fer a dreadful night such as this ‘un and yer shakin’ like a leaf”, he took her arm gently and led her inside, shutting the door carefully behind him and drawing the bolt across.

“Are yew arright then my darlin’ girl”, he asked softly putting his arm around her waist.

“Yes… yes I’m bein just fine”, she replied, trying to make her tone as easy as possible.

She didn’t want Noah to know just how frightened she had been. What she did not know was that her feelings lay open like a book in front of him, he could not help but read.

He wrapped his arms around her trembling body, pulling her close to him. She pressed her face against the cold leather of his jacket, listening to the sound of his strong heartbeat just beneath.

“Yew know yew really shouldn’ be out there… it told yew to keep that door their locked”, he murmured, “it coulda been that man instead oh me yew know”.

He squeezed her more tightly at that dreadful thought.

“Oof!”, she said.

“Oof?”, he asked puzzled drawing back from her, “Did that there baby of our’s kick yer poor self again?”.

“No”, she chuckled, “Yew just poked me with something”.

“Oh.. sorry”, he grinned, “My sword… we all have to wear them now by the King’s orders”.

Another man would have made a crude joke, but Noah was not the type and Gena was glad of it.

“But love”, she said softly, “Yer not a fightin’ man, yer a carpenter… a farmer perhaps”.

“If that man is comin’ here”, he said, his tone suddenly serious, “I want to be havin’ this sword so I can protect yew and the little ‘un”.

He was interrupted by a snuffling noise from behind them.

“What’s that noise bein’?”, Gena asked, confused having entirely forgotten that the dog was still there.

“That noise is bein’ that damn dog… Dog!”, he said angrily, “Get yer head out of that there flour bag!”.

Dog turned his head to Noah with a puzzled expression, and sneezed blowing flour from his nose.

“Yew ruddy thing! That’s our winter supply of flour… yew should be keepin’ yer big dumb head out of it!”.

Gena couldn’t help but chuckle. Her husband was normally so calm and took everything in his stride. Here he was, as close to angry as she’d ever seen, over a silly dog.

Dog began to whine theatrically, between sneezes his ears back and his head bowed.

Finally Gena could not bear it anymore. She lowered herself slowly to the her knees and held out her hand for the dog to sniff, this time with her permission.

“Hello there”, she said, “We haven’t been introduced yet… I’m bein Gena and yew must be Dog”.

Dog took one look at the extended hand and slurped it with his big pink tongue, his tail thumping happily against the floor.

“That’s right… I’ve been so distracted there I’ve been entirely forgettin’. It thought what with that vagabond on this here island I’d be wantin’ yew to have a bit more protection while I’m out in the days. So I’ve been askin’ the King and he’s been lettin’ us have this here dog fer yew. Not that he’s bein much use to anyone”, he glared at the dog, who whined again and buried his face in Gena’s dress.

“So yer goin’ to be bein’ my guard dog then are yew Dog?”, she asked him.

He replied by falling on his side with a thump and rolling over all legs in the air to expose his big white belly. Gena rubbed his tummy as he grunted with joy, his tongue lolling from his mouth.

“Some use yer goin’ to be as guard dog”, Noah said frowning, a desperate urge to laugh building in him.

The dog woofed happily in reply as Gena tickled his tummy, his legs sprawled in a most undignified manner.

Noah couldn’t contain it any longer, and a chuckle burst forth, “Well at least yew two are gettin’ along then, even if he isn’t the most savage of dogs”.

“Why isn’t she bein’ the most precious little thing yew ever did see?”, Hepsie asked while making silly faces at the baby.

“I don’t know Hepsie… I can’t see her”, Gena replied softlly.

“Oh listen to me openin’ my big ole silly mouth… sorry love”, Hespie said sheepishly, “well then… the most precious darlin’ thing yew ever held, and smelt… she probably tastes wonderful too… maybe I’ll just be givin’ yew a lick little darlin’ see if yew be tastin’ like candy”

She moved towards the baby, who looked extremely concerned by this turn of events. Gena could feel her squirming in her arms and she held the baby close, resting it on her shoulder.

“She doesn’ like that sorta thing Hepsie”, Gena scolded with a quiet laugh, “she’s a neat little thing ain’t she. Didn’ like her papa’s big grubby paws on her and she certainly doesn’ want to be licked”.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

“Well who on earth could that be knockin’ at this hour… ooh I hope it’s bein’ my Steen… I could use one of his big bear hugs right now. Mebbe he can scoop me up in his big ole arms and carry me home. I’m bein’ that tired I don’t think I can even climb up into the wagon”.

She went to open the door, and Gena focused her attention on the warm child snuffling softly in her arms, its tiny face pressed into the crook of her neck. She had never been allowed to hold a baby before, people back home had assumed she was dull as well as blind and had told her no because she might drop it.

She could not believe that in a few short months she would be holding a baby, just like this one, but her own in her arms. She had to admit that after attending Darina’s labour she wasn’t feeling too confident about her own. There had been too much screaming for her sensitive ears and she could still smell the blood on her clothes, even though she had cleaned herself up. But if this was the result of such efforts then she was willing to go through them again and again, just to be able to hold her own dear sweet baby in her arms.

“Perhaps you two can be friends”, she whispered softly to the baby in her arms, and that within her swollen belly.

“Well look who it is”, she heard Hepsie cry as she opened the door to the cold.

“Well I heard that my first new subject had almost arrived and I had to ride over here and sight it myself”, to her suprise she heard the cheerful voice of the King.

She panicked slightly, clutching the baby tighter to her chest. The King and here she was covered in grime and blood from the birthing, her hair an absolute mess and her stomach so large she didn’t know how she would be able to curtsey for him.

“Can I come in or does Sir Cade who his guarding the door deem me unworthy”, he sniffled theatrically, “Please let me come in Sir Cade… it is so very cold out here and my shoes are wet”.

“Of course of course yer Highness… look at me standin’ in the doorway like a goose and blockin yer way… come in where it’s nice and warm… sort of”.

She moved out of the way and the King strode through the door. Gena thought she would pass out at the sound of his heavy footsteps, but reminded herself that she was holding the baby and willed her legs to remain steady.

“Who’s bein’ at the door at this time of night?”, Darina shouted from the next room.

“Er… umm… the King”, Hepsie replied with resignation.

Gena knew what was about to follow. Hepsie had told Darina she must be confined to bed for a few weeks, but she had mentioned to Gena that she had only given such extreme advice because she knew Darina would not follow it. If she had told her she merely needed to take it a bit easy then Darina would have ignored her completely and probably worn herself out. At least now she might be convinced to rest a little.

“I’m coming out… hang on a minute”, her voice came from the other room, “Engin help me with my dress!”.

“No Darina… yew need to stay in bed like I told yew!”, Hepsie called back.

“No, no it’s fine… I’ll be just a minute! Engin be careful!”

“Well is this the newest addition to my Kingdom”, Eallair said standing just in front of Gena.

“She’s very small”, he whispered conspiratorially with a grin on his face, “but I guess babies usually are”.

“Actually she’s quite a good size for a baby”, Hepsie said, her shoulders slumped in defeat, “She’s a perfect little thing ain’t she… look at those teeny tiny fingers n’ toes”.

Gena stood stock still, trying not to draw attention to herself.

Then she heard the door to the other room click open, and Darina come through with Engin following closely. Darina paused in the doorway and Gena had the eery feeling that the woman was staring directly at her. Her face began to grow hot with embarrassment.

“Yer Highness”, she gushed, “What a wonderful surprise… did yer come all the way out here to see our little Aisling?”

Aisling, what a pretty name, Gena thought to herself absent-mindedly and was startled when she heard Darina’s voice beside her.

“Can I be havin’ my baby then Gena”, she said, her voice low.

Gena handed her the baby and quickly walked to the opposite side of the room, hoping the darkness would hide the flush that had crept over her cheeks.

She heard everyone cooing over the baby, the King congratulating Darina and Darina bragging proudly about the newest addition to Mhalwae.

Gena was glad they were ignoring her. She was happy to stand her face turned to the window feeling a cool breeze coming through between the cracks. She was frightened that she would draw this kind of attention when she had her baby. She didn’t want any people to visit her, with their raised voices and racous laughter. She didn’t dream of Kings knocking on her door and congratulating her. She just wanted to be allowed to sit somewhere quiet holding her own baby in her arms.

Engin was so nervous he could not sit still. He sat on the chair, drumming on the table with his fingertips, adjusting the collar of his shirt, pushing the hair that fell into his eyes back into place. He looked up at the door every few minutes willing someone to walk through, to end his suffering.

He had spent the last few hours listening to the dreadful screams that were coming from the room where his wife and the other women were. It had been a long time since the cries of pain had ended and now there had not been a noise emitting from the room for almost half an hour. He thought there should be the squalling of a baby, the moaning of his wife anything to still his thumping heart, but all was silent.

He heard the door quielty clicking open and soft footsteps as Gena carefully maneuvered her way through it. In her arms lay a perfect little baby, its arms neatly folded over its belly. He could do nothing but stare, unable to believe that he and his wife had made this tiny creature.

He blinked for a moment and then stood up so quickly the chair almost crashed to the ground and he had to grip it in one hand to stop it from falling. The small person looked at him with wide alarmed eyes.

“Is… is he bein’ arright?”, Engin asked amazed, standing next to the table unable to cross the space between them.

“Yes… yes… he’s being just fine”, Gena chuckled softly, “except he’s bein’ a SHE”.

“A… a girl?”, he asked confused.

In his head he had been prepared for a boy, someone he could teach the ways of the farm, to go fishing with who perhaps would be just as bad as he. A boy who would inherit all this from him one day. He didn’t quite know how to respond to this unexpected news. He stood a couple of feet away from Gena and the baby, his arms hanging rigidly at his sides.

“Would yer like to be holdin’ the wee thing?”, Gena asked gently.

He thought she must be able to sense his discomfort, his terror that he might break this small, fragile thing that God has somehow seen fit to place in his big, clumsy hands. A boy would have been more durable, he thought, but maybe a girl was too delicate and he shouldn’t be allowed to hold her.

But Gena was holding her out to him. He stared at her not moving at all for fear he would scare her. He could not help but think she was drawing away from him, he body cowering back towards Gena’s. Of course she would be frightened of him. He was so big and ungainly and she, she was so very small and perfect.

“I… I don’t think I can”, he said, his voice trembling.

“Don’t yew be bein’ silly then… if I can yew can and she’s yer little’un”, Gena said in a no-nonsense voice that Engin thought she must have inherited from Hepsie.

“Here yew go… just put yer hand behind her head and she’ll be fine”.

And then suddenly there was warm baby in his arms, staring up at him with his own big brown eyes. Her head was bald apart from a few wispy strands of fair hair, the same colour as his.

“She… she looks like me”, he marvelled.

“Well I don’t know what that looks like silly, but I sure hope she isn’t looking exactly like yew… maybe she has some of her mother’s traits”, Gena smiled despite herself, looking pleased at her small joke.

Engin realised he had never spent any time with the woman, disliking her based on principle. He had always thought the worst because of the way he felt about Noah, but right at this moment he was so grateful for her presence he could have hugged her.

He held the little girl a bit closer so he could look at her face in the fading light. She began to squirm in his arms, raising a tiny hand in protest.

“What?”, he asked, directing the question to both the baby and Gena, “what’m I doin’ wrong?”.

The baby was now beginning to whimper and make distressed snuffling noises, gazing up at him in horror.

“Maybe yew should take her back now”, he said thrusting the upset baby into Gena’s arms, “she doesn’t seem to be likin’ me much”.

“What are yew doin’ to that baby of mine yew silly man”, he heard a voice call from next room.

Darina! He had been so focused on the baby he had not even asked how she had fared. Now he hastily walked towards the other room, leaving Gena to comfort the baby.

He stood awkwardly in the doorway. His wife was talking to Hepsie who had a grave expression on her face. She looked exhausted, her face pale and drawn, her red hair clinging damply to her clammy face.

He grinned stupidly unsure of what else to do.

“Are yew arright Darina?”, he turned to Hepsie his brow crinklilng into a worried expression, “Is she arright?”

Darina looked up at him and smiled wanly. He glanced at Hepsie and saw she was staring at him intensely, a severe look on her face.

“Yes she’s bein’ fine”, Hepsie answered before Darina could open her mouth, “but she’s lost a fair amount of blood and that means she’s goin’ to be needin’ lots of bedrest in the next few weeks”.

“Which means”, she continued, “yer goin’ to have to take over a lot of the housework while she takes care of the baby. And yew can start by gettin’ some firewood fer that there stove of yers. Yew don’t be wantin’ that baby girl of yers to get cold then do yew?”

“Now, I’ll be leavin yew two fer some alone time. Yew need to choose a name fer starters. We’ll get the baby cleaned up while yew rest a bit Darina”.

She gave Engin another meaningful look and carefully shut the door behind her.

Hepsie could hear Gena behind her as she cheerfully asked Darina about the dress she was making. The wheel was clicking rapidly between her deft hands and Hepsie had to admit that Darina was indeed a skilled seamstress.

Darina snapped at Gena by way of an answer and Hepsie sighed softly. Darina was always being mean to the poor girl. She thought it was some misguided form of jealousy or resentment that Gena, a blind girl had managed to do just as well as her in life. She knew Darina was one of the people who considered Gena to be a useless burden on their small society. But if she only opened her eyes a little, Hepsie thought Darina would realise that Gena worked just as hard as the rest of them, often even harder in some attempt to prove herself worthy.

She sneaked a look at Gena though she always felt a bit ashamed to do so, like she was stealing something from the girl. It was one thing to look at someone when they could meet your eye back, but to look when they could not know, that felt somehow rude. Gena’s misery at Darina’s snippy comments was written all over her pale face. One of the affects of never having been able to see herself, Gena’s moods were always easy to read. Hepsie found this endearing, Gena was so open and desperate for affection, she could not help but give it freely.

She bent over the steaming bucket, glad to plunge her cold hands into its warm depths. She had always liked washing the dishes and it was exceptionally pleasant on such a frigid winter day. She thought that Darina’s little house was a tad to cold, especially since Engin had not collected enough firewood to warm it properly.

“He had better do it soon”, she mumbled to herself. That baby wasn’t going to wait for firewood.

Hepsie and Gena had made the journey to Darina and Engin’s house in a wagon, since Gena was so far along. They were staying with her until the baby came, making the tiny house extremely cramped. Hepsie thought she would be very glad to get back to her little room on the ship with Steen.

She shifted her weight. Her ankle was aching severely with the cold. It seemed to finally be healing and she could hobble about on it now without a stick, but it was still causing her a lot of pain. She had resigned herself to the fact that she would be limping for the rest of her life.

And she thought irritably, not only was her ankle aching, but her back too. She did not know how the other two women were managing to carry the weight of their babies. Her belly had barely begun to swell and already she was beginning to feel exhausted. Maybe that was due to the little one inside her spending the majority of the night kicking, or as Steen like to call it barn-dancing. It certainly felt like it was dancing and as she had repeatedly lovingly scolded it there was not room in there for such shenanigans.

Darina heaved to her feet and began to rub her neck and back.

“I tell yew what”, she drawled, “my neck be achin’ something terrible today… and me back… don’t even get my started on that”.

Hepsie felt a little sheepish for complaining about her pain in her head. She could not imagine what she would be feeling like when she was as far along as the other women.

“Ooof… and it sure be painin’ me today… feels like the little blighter is trying to win a kickin’ competition”.

She rubbed her belly thoughtfully, with an odd expression on her face. Hepsie turned to stare out the window.

“Looks to me like we might be gettin’ some snow today then, what with those black clouds gatherin’ out there on the horizon”.

There’s lots of sticks out there perfect for firewood too, she thought to herself.

She heard a scraping noise, and then some fumbling as Darina suddenly pushed herself out from behind the spinning wheel.

“Are yew alright then there Darina”, Gena asked kindly.

“Of course I’m bein’ arright you stupid girl”, Darina spat back at her.

Hepsie was surprised by the venom in the women’s voice. She knew Darina could be mean but she was not usually so cruel.

She turned to look at her in time to see the older woman’s face contort into a grimace of pain.

“My goodness”, she cried out of breath, “I don’t think it’s supposed to be feelin’ like that”.

She cried out loudly and clutched at her large stomach.

“Hepsie!”, she almost screeched, “I think there’s bein’ something wrong with the baby… it’s painin’ me so much”.

She clenched her teeth and Hepsie could hear her breath whistling through them in ragged gasps.

A large smile spread across Hepsie’s face.

“Now yew just be breathin’ then Darina love… there’s bein’ nothin’ at all wrong with yer baby. It just wants to come and meet yew now is all”.

She wiped her hands on her apron and began to hobble across the room.

“No… No! I don’t think it should come now… I’m not sure I’m bein’ ready for it… I’m arright now… it’s not hurtin’ so much anymore… I… aaaagh!!!”

Darina leant her head back and howled as another contraction hit sending waves of pain rippling through her body.

“Of course it should be comin’ now love… it’s been bakin’ inside yew for well and truly long enough and it wants to be seeing this big ole world now”, she couldn’t help but grin wider at the thought of the first little Mhalwae baby to be born.

She turned to Gena, “Gena love… I’m going to be needin’ yer help now… how about yer go and check that the beds all ready fer Darina while I be helpin’ her into the room?”

Gena stumbled to her feet, her heavy belly pushing the table out of the way as she scrambled to help. Hepsie could see she was nervous and guessed by this she had never been present at a birth before. Hepsie thought this rather sad, that the other women back in their old home had shunned her so much she had not even been able to attend a birth. Well it was a good thing she was here so she knew what to expect when her own baby came in a couple of months.

Another shriek came from Darina who was doubled over in pain beside the spinning wheel.

She looked up pleadingly at Hepsie her hands holding her belly, her face terrified and drawn. Hepsie had seen the look before on the face of every first time mother.

“But Hepsie it hurts too much… it aaagh!!!”.

“I don’t… I don’t think I can Hepsie… maybe I’ll just be gettin’ in yer way with my fumblin’”, Gena had jumped almost a foot in the air startled by the last scream.

One hand was clasped to her chest which was rapidly rising and falling, and the other raised weakly in protest.

Hepsie wanted to laugh, stuck here with these two novices in the art of birth but she managed to suppress it. Maybe she should have asked one of the other women along. It was too late for that now. They would just have to make do.

“Yew”, she said to Darina, “Don’t yew be silly… of course ye can have this baby… and anyway… whether yew like it or not baby is comin’ so are you going to let me help yew lie down or not?”

“And yew Gena”, she said, “Yev got two hands I see so yer perfectly capable of helpin’. Now get in that room before I make yer!”

Gena could feel the cool wind whipping at her hair as she stood clasping Noah’s hand tightly. It felt warm and big and strong, enfolding her small fingers in its embrace. Wrapping her fingers around his made her feel safe after years of grasping in the darkness with noone to guide her. She was so glad she had finally found him, her fingers tentatively brushing his in the blackness until he had firmly gripped her hand and brought her with him, and a bond had been formed that nothing could break.

“Do yew know what we be standin’ before me lovely Gena?”, his deep, gentle voice said somewhere close to her ear.

Gena could not guess what it was. She thought by the tangy taste of salt on the air they must be somewhere close to the sea, but they had walked quite a ways from the ships. By her reckoning they must have turned back towards the coast after walking further inland. The soil felt gritty beneath her feet and she could smell the sharp scent of the Cypress trees which liked to grow quite near to the sand.

“Are we standin’ near the beach?”, she asked tentatively not sure what he expected her to say, desperate not to disappoint him.

“Come now let us be walkin’ a little closer and we will see what yew be thinkin’ then”.

He gently guided her forward about ten paces and then they stopped again. Suddenly there were new scents on the breeze, the smell of freshly sawed wood, the sandy smell of mortar, the rising scent of packed dirt.

“We are standin’ near some buildin’ aren’t we”, she said, “but whose I cannot tell”.

She ran through the list of buildings that were being worked on but could not determine which it was.

“It’s bein’ ours my beautiful Gena”, her husband’s voice whispered in her ear, “Come and let me show yew, but first we’ll be goin’ round the back of the house”.

Gena didn’t know what to think, what to say. She had not thought to have a house built for them before the little baby came. She had pictured them all three, crowding into the the small confines of their room on the ship. She had not dared to wish for something more, believing she would be happy and cosy with her loved ones even in such cramped conditions. She had not dreamt of this.

Noah led her behind the small structure.

“Here is where we’ll be havin’ some pigs and a cow when the weather turns good again”, Gena could hear the pride in his voice, “the King hisself has promised us a fine milkin’ cow and five pigs.

She tentatively reached out her hand to stroke the well-made fence that would contain their own farm animals. The fence felt strong and sturdy beneath her hand, the beams interlocking snugly, each one perfectly straight. She could not see the things her husband made with his hands, but she could feel the way they fit together and knew that he was very good at what he did.

“Come now, I want to be tellin’ yew about what else we have ourselves on this fine piece of land we have here”, he paused thoughtfully, “our own land it’s bein’ too.

It seemed a very great thing for them to have their own land, where before they had face a lifetime of working another man’s land for pittance, barely able to feed themselves. She wished the war had not happened, that their great city had not fallen, but she could see the good in this for them too.

She felt the ground gently sloping downwards beneath her feet as they walked a little way from the house.

“Now me love”, Noah said and she could hear the joy in his voice, “we be standin’ lookin’ directly out towards the sea”.

Gena felt the cool, salty breeze on her face and she could hear the waves rushing up the beach, over the sand.

“And right before you reach the water there’s bein’ a stand of tall Cypress trees”.

She could hear the wind rustling the leaves in the trees, smell the dark scent of their resin, feel the coolness of the shadows cast from their broad branches.

She heard his voice fill with pride again, “and a little bit before you reach those there trees I’ve planted us some apple trees from the seeds the King hisself has given us. They should be burstin’ through the ground when Spring comes along and one day we’ll be havin’ ourselves a fine little grove”.

She could detect the scent of freshly turned earth, a warm damp, slightly sandy smell. She thought it would be very good indeed in a few years to be able to pull down those ripe, crunchy apples and taste the juicy sweetness on her tongue.

“Now you must be comin’ over here too”, Noah was tugging at her hand as eagerly as a child.

“So where do you think we are bein’ standin’ my dear one?”, he asked, his body close to hers.

She stood for a minute thinking. She could hear the tone of the wind changing as it move through some other trees, their leaves must be dangling closer to the ground. She felt a gentle brushing against her face and reached up to grasp the hanging leaves between her fingers. She listened carefully and somewhere below her she could hear the gentle gurgle of a brook, running over smoothed pebbles and down to the ocean.

“And we have a brook on our land too my love?”, she said her voice filled with joy, questioning him although she already new the answer.

“That we do my dearest”, he answered his voice full of happiness.

She tilted her head and listened carefully.

“And by the sound of it, we’ve got ourselves as fair a fishin’ pond as that ole Engin has too”.

She did not see Noah gently shaking his head, as always astounded by how attuned his wife’s other four senses were.

“Shall I take yew over to the house now then”, he asked.

“Yes… please… let’s go”, she said, her voice filled with excitement.

He led his wife back to the front of the house, and then carefully helped her up the steps so they were standing in front of the door.

“Here we are then… home sweet home”, he put his arm around her shoulder as they stood there.

Gena reached out the back of her hand to feel the wall of the house that Noah had built for her.

“Why Noah”, she cried in suprise, stroking the cool stones gently, “it’s bein’ made of stone… however did you make this in time”.

He could have winked if she had been able to see him, but as it was Noah was not the winking type and he gently took her hand instead.

“Well.. since we men been finished on the Rawtharn’s cottage over there we’ve had time to build this one here and I put in a bit of extra time before that… that’s why yew haven’t been seein’ so much o’ me in the evenings my love. I hope yew’ll be forgivin’ me. And that good lad Steen has been helpin’ a lot and the King hisself said we could be usin’ some of the stone. And I thought to myself… we should build out of stone now so I can be keepin’ yew and the wee baby warm this winter”, he paused for a minute, “it’s not bein’ as big a the Rawtharn’s then, but I think it’s bein’ warmer and we can always make it bigger when more young’uns are comin. I think there’ll be bein’ enough room for us three for the time bein”.

He rubbed her swollen belly thoughtfully.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him as close as she could with her belly as large as it was now. She smiled up into his face her hand on his broad shoulder.

“Thank yew Noah… it’s bein’ the most nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me”, she said and then kissed him soundly.

“Now… are yew plannin’ to be takin’ me on the inside tour?”.

Just a quick warning guys. This one’s a bit upsetting and a bit gruesome… I found it upsetting to write but maybe I’m just wussy. Just in case anyone doesn’t want to read… the usual… you’ll find out what happened in the next post anyway.

“Here she is! I think I’ve found her here!!!”, Arran shouted, “bring the torches! I’ve found her”.

Lochan and the other men ran to the spot they heard the young man’s desperate voice coming from.

When they arrived he was already on the ground cradling her limp body in his arms. Lochan couldn’t help noticing the glistening blood spattered on her dress and face, her blue eyes open and staring, her once-pretty mouth set in a dreadful grimace. He shuddered, imagining that it could be his Isaura, lying dead before him, her and the baby she was carrying inside her lost to him forever. He could not take it, and he had to turn away for a moment as Arran chattered in terror.

“You’ll be bein’ arright then my lovely Nellie… don’t yew be worryin’ that pretty head of yers… we’ll get yew inside where it’s warm and safe in no time”.

He was stroking her damp hair absent mindly, rocking back and forth her head lolling like a doll’s on his lap.

“She’ll be arright won’t she Sir… won’t she… she’s just a little bit frightened… cause… cause… she’s been bein’ lost all this time an’ it’s a very cold night… won’t she”.

He looked up at Lochan his innocent face pleading, shining a sickly white in the glow of the full moon. Lochan could not take it, he wanted to escape, to flee this dreadful scene and curl up somewhere dark and warm and bury his face in Isaura’s hair. But Isaura’s hair was no longer warm and soft, but lank and plastered to her face as she tossed and turned in the clutches of a fever. There was nowhere he could go.

“Now lad… how about you come over here and let me take a look at her”, he said in a firm voice desperately trying to hide the shake in it.

“Yer arright my beautiful, beautiful Nellie… I’m sorry for makin’ you cry and run off in the dark… I don’t mind if yew can’t have babies… I still love yew… I do. We can be happy anyway… Nellie… Nell why won’t you answer me… I said I was sorry… Nell…”

His hand was desperately stroking her rigid stomach and Lochan thought he would be sick as he saw the blood smearing on the young man’s pallid hands.

“Yew have to help me! Help me! It’s sick my Nellie’s bein’… we have to take her someplace warm and safe so we can fix her till she’s better… she’ll be arright if we just take her inside”.

He had pulled the woman’s body up into a sitting position and was desperately pawing at her, shaking her by the shoulders.

“Yew’ll be arright old girl… yer Arran will take care of yew just like I always done… won’t you help me”, he said imploringly to the men.

He began to drag at the corpse, trying to get his shoulder under her weight but Lochan could see the young man’s trembling knees buckling under him. Lochan did not know what to do, he was frozen to the spot in horror, his stomach churning, bile rising in his throat. He could hear Sigurd whimpering softly somewhere behind him.

Then he heard a strong, gentle voice beside him.

“Come on then lad, let her go… we’ll be helpin’ her if we can… you need to move yerself so we can see if there’s anythin’ to be done”.

The young man suddenly realising that there was nothing that could be done, fell to his knees the body falling from his arms and sliding to the ground. He began to sob, the terrible abandoned crying of a child, pressing his hands against his eyes. Lochan couldn’t bear to watch his shoulders shaking with sorrow, to listen to the animal noises of grief. He wanted to put his hands over his eyes, to block up his ears and make it all go away.

“Let me give you a hand up then lad, yew’ll be arright”, Noah reached down with his strong arms and hauled Arran to his feet, holding him steady as he swayed in place.

“She’s gone then hasn’t she”, he gave a heartrending sob and almost collapsed, but Noah had his hand firmly on Arran’s arm and he held him there, speaking kindly to him with his calm, deep voice as the young man quietly wept against his shoulder.

Lochan bent down to feel the young woman’s neck for a pulse. She was definitely dead, her heart still and cold, her skin so pale it looked like all the warmth had been sucked out of her. She must have been attacked by wolves, he thought. If only the poor silly girl had not run outside alone. They had warned all the people of the danger. He reached out to close her staring open eyes, he could not bear to see them any longer. He was surprised to see blood on his fingers when her did.

“Sigurd! Bring the torch closer… yes here… over by her neck”.

“That’s strange, it looks like something has bitten her here”, he said quietly, pointing to the ragged flesh just beneath her chin where he had just been searching for a sign of life, “but it doesn’t look like a wolves bite… it’s too neat for that”.

What Lochan did not add, what he did not want to admit to the others was something about the wound that disturbed him greatly. The teethmarks looked almost human.

The three men were taking a break from building and Noah had suggested today might be a good day to test out Engin’s pond. The days were becoming crisper as winter was approaching and they feared that soon the water would be frozen and the opportunity for fishing would be gone.

Engin struggled with his fishing rod. He had somehow managed to get the line tangled around his leg and was having a difficult time unwinding it. Noah had brought two rods he had made during the autumn days when it had rained too hard for work on the castle to continue.

The King had finally decided that the castle building must be put on hold. Many of the women on the island were now pregnant and there was fast approaching a time when the ships would become very cramped indeed. So he had set the men to work on building homes for the peasants, which would not take so very long. Engin and Darina were the first to have an almost finished house as their baby was due in only a few weeks.

Engin finally got himself untangled and proceeded to cast with as much momentum as he could muster.

Unfortunately, Engin was no expert fisherman, in fact he had only been fishing once before. He cast with such might that he managed to throw his entire body toward the pond, tripping and sprawling in the mud on his behind.

He heard a chuckle from Steen who was lazing on the side of the bank, content to watch the other men’s attempts at glory.

“You be trying to use yourself as bait for those them fish then are you Engin? I think they might not be finding you such a tasty morsel… they would probably be preferring them worms you attached to the line”, Steen gently teased him, grinning ear to ear.

He looked up to see Noah was also chuckling a Engin’s misfortune as he cast his line in again.

Anger rose in him, his face turning red as he stumbled to his feet and disentangled himself from the line which was now wrapped around his legs again. He would show him, he would be the one to catch a fish and then who would be laughing.

He suddenly heard a splash next to him and then Noah was reeling in a fish.

“I think he’s being just big enough to keep for the eating, what do you lads reckon?”, Noah asked.

Steen congratulated him, but Engin made no sound and sullenly threw his line in this time with a little less force. It did not matter, it was not a big fish and Engin was sure he would have a bit more luck now his line was actually in the water. It couldn’t be that hard after all if Noah could catch one.

It had only been minutes when he heard the familiar sound of reeling and the sploosh as another fish left the water.

He looked over to see Noah holding a large catfish, about twice the size of his last catch. Engin sighed in exasperation.

Noah grinned and laughed, “Here’s a more sizeable one then, look at his face, he sort of looks like you over there Engin with all your whiskers”.

“It seems like you’ve got yourself a fair little fishing pond here you have”, he said to Engin.

Engin did not reply and stared forlornly into the depths of the pool, wondering what it was he lacked and Noah had that made the fish fair jump out of the pond and into his waiting arms.

He was desperate to prove himself better than this man, as he stood there, gripping the rod so tightly that his knuckles began to turn white, a look of fierce concentration plastered across his face.

He stole a quick glance at Noah and saw to his extreme annoyance his face was a mask of relaxed calm. He looked like he was actually enjoying this, Engin thought with a surge of irritation. He would show him.

There was a distant rumble of thunder and a few drops of rain began to fall. Steen leapt to his feet, putting his hands up to feel the raindrops on them.

“I think we better get back to work, it looks like it’s going to be being a big storm and we still have to be getting a roof on that there privy of your’s otherwise your poor pregnant wife is going to have to be going in the rain”.

He may as well have been talking to himself as both men stared fixedly into the water.

Engin heard the sound of footsteps crunching behind him and turned slightly to see his extremely pregnant wife, waddling up the hill like a ship in full sail.

Here was his chance. He would impress Darina and prove himself better than Noah in one moment. As he was thinking this he heard Noah struggling beside him and then there was a monumental splash as Noah brought in the biggest fish he had ever seen. It was massive, its huge mouth opening and shutting as it fought for life. He heard Darina gasp behind him and his heart sank.

“Well Goodman Ulcar, that is by far the largest fish I have ever been seeing with these own two eyes of mine!” she exclaimed.

“I had no idea there were being such big fish in this here pond of mine”, she emphasised the last word and Engin understood where this was leading.

It seemed that Noah did also and he said graciously, “Well it will definitely be big enough to be feeding the two of you for quite some time, perhaps even the three ‘specially if you be smoking a large portion of it.

He smiled generously, and Engin felt the green hand of jealousy wrap around his heart and give a sharp squeeze.

Then he looked at his mercenary wife’s face and realised she was not in fact very much impressed, although she was definitely pleased with her own cunning. He had seen her truly smile and could see this one for what it was, so brittle and false it could snap off her face at anytime.

Suddenly it fell, and a look of annoyance replaced it.

“Do you not be thinking you strong men have had enough playtime and that perhaps it is time to be putting a roof on that there privy… we are not too fond of sitting out there in the rain”, she rubbed her swollen belly fondly and with her piece said, flounced off down the hill.