My mother's stillroom was once my favorite part of the hillfort. The arched stone doorway led to the herb garden, curling like the tail of a contented cat around the kitchens. Mother and our old cook, who died soon after Morgann arrived, worked the brief golden months of summer for whole days tending the plants. My mother told me that I spent most of my infancy strapped to her back and sleeping as she dug in the earth like a peasant. 

Mother had a hand for a healing. I saw her bring babes into the world like a seasoned midwife, tend rotting limbs back to health, and even stave off an outbreak of the sweating sickness by tending those already ill in a closed off portion of the hill fort. She saved many lives that winter, including mine as I was one of the first to become ill.

She gave me the knowledge, but I did not have her calming way. I was too blunt. I treated wounds, not the whole person. But my mother said that I had a keen mind for tinctures and remedies.

I had been forbidden from the kitchens, gardens, and the stillroom once Morgann arrived. She told my father it was not befitting for me to be seen in such places. When my father gave me that declaration, it was as though my mother had died all over again.

"We are only three days' ride to Lord Uhtred's lands. We shouldn't have any trouble on the roads, but you should be on your guard just the same," Tola instructed me in the grey light of dawn as we readied for our journey. "Stay at my brother's side. He will protect you should anything happen."

The men of Lord Uhtred led the way as we rode with Tola at the front. Tugan took up the rear while Ivar and I remained at the center of the group. Ivar enjoyed a song, though his voice was like a crow's. Uhtred's man Finan, the warrior from across the sea, joined in frequently as well. At least it was a sufficient distraction from my aching limbs and backside. I had never ridden so far in my life. Sometimes, I felt like I was on a little boat out at sea, floating further and further from the shore. 

"Are you well, lady?" the young monk asked when we paused at midday to water the horses. "I mean, other than having to suffer through their singing."

I picked the leaves off a willow branch, dropping them into the grey current of the river. The sky was steely and threatening rain, chilled mist still threading along the roads at noon. I shivered and pulled the dead man's cloak tighter about myself.

"Much has happened in a short period of time," I said with a little smile. "I have never been so far from home. And this place is so strange. You are all kind, but you are strange to me as well. Though I know I should be grateful to be standing here, alive and well."

Osferth nodded sagely with a forgiving smile as he patted one of the horses next to us. "I have found that home is made more of people than places in my life. Hopefully, you will be able to find the same when we reach Coccham."

"Most of the people that made my father's kingdom a home to me are dead. All that was left were memories."

"Then perhaps that is what you mourn more than leaving your home."

I had never had the chance to properly grieve the losses that I had suffered. Morgann had stolen that from me as well. She married my father so soon after my mother's death, my father insisted that we celebrate their wedding and the new queen instead of remembering his first wife. It was an affront to everyone, not just myself. 

"You are right," I said, brushing the damp strands of hair curling at my forehead and blinking up river. "There was nothing left for me back there. Perhaps I shall never return to Ceredigion."

Sihtric crouched at the water's edge, cupping his scarred hands and drinking upstream from the horses. He sent a splash of water over his half shaved curls, droplets running down the sharp curves of his face. Shaking the damp from his head, he met my eyes. 

Not for the first time, I was struck by the Dane's expression. Sihtric had the most naturally disappointed face that I had ever seen on a person. His full lips were perpetually turned down, his odd colored eyes secretive and silent. I wondered if he had been born that way or had developed the trait over time. I dreaded to think that I should someday turn out the same way. I cut my gaze away with a shudder and walked back towards Ivar's horse.    

We rode hard for the rest of the day, the edge of a thunder storm hunting us down. My imagination ran away with me as I tangled my fingers in the horse's mane and focused on Ivar's heartbeat between my shoulder blades. My thoughts tangled with whispers of magic spells and curses, rumors of my stepmother's dark habits. Perhaps this storm was like the one that had nearly killed me on the sea, that had killed the man who helped me escape. Perhaps  this was Morgann's doing. 

Would this storm kill my companions as the first had killed Glynnis' kin? 

I squeezed my eyes shut and wished that Ivar would take up his singing again. But the dark mood had descended on the rest of the party as well. We rode silent and hard till we came to an inn on the edge of a dreary wood, thunder erupting violently overhead.

"We will not camp outside this night," Ivar said after Tola nodded to him. He grasped my waist and helped me to the ground. "Don't fear, little maid, you will have a roof over your head soon enough."

I walked in first with Osferth. I pulled the hood from my head as we entered the inn. A fire burned in the hearth and a few torches wavered in sconces on the walls, but there was no one to greet us. My hair steamed in the warmth of the eerily empty room. The sharp scream of a woman erupted from overhead, the shock of the sound nearly making me cry out as well.

Frenzied footsteps tumbled down the stairs as a man stopped at the bottom, his face pale and eyes wide with terror. I drew a step back behind Osferth. The monk gripped the hilt of his sword. Tola and Sihtric entered behind us as the man struggled to catch his breath.

"Hello travelers," he spoke, his voice tremulous. "I apologize for the lack of hospitality tonight, but my daughter has gone into labor with her first child. I sent for the midwife, hopefully she will be here presently."

Another scream. It tore through me to the bone. I knew that sound. My mother had sounded the same while she had struggled to bring my brother into the world. Glynnis and I had attended her bedside. Blood stained memories filled my brain till I felt that I could not breathe.

"Well, I hope the midwife will be here soon. I sent for her this morning," the man said, biting his lip as though to keep from crying.

Despite the fear like a stone in my gut, I knew I couldn't say nothing. I knew midwifery, a little at least. 

"I have some knowledge in child birthing," I said with a voice stronger than I felt. "If you could bring me to her, I'll see what I can do."