“I appreciate your hospitality, William, though I am more than willing to reimburse you for the game my men hunted.”
“Nonsense,” William said with a dismissive wave. “Sinclares are welcome to hunt on my property whenever they pass through.”
“Your generosity is appreciated. I will be two, perhaps three days. My healer is seeing to one of the villagers.”
“Someone is ill?” he asked sharply.
Artair knew it wasn’t out of consideration that William asked, but rather, fear of catching a deadly illness. He set his mind at ease. “A difficult birth.”
William sneered. “These pagans whelp their babes in the field and continue working. Do not waste your healer’s time on them.”
“My healer helps all those in need,” Artair said firmly, knowing an altercation with this man would only provoke suffering for the villagers.
William gave a curt nod. “As you wish.” He sent a stern look at the villagers. “This man is my honored guest; make certain you see to his care.”
The villagers bowed their heads and kept them bowed until their liege lord had disappeared out of sight. Their frightened expressions showed that they feared reprisals. There was little Artair could do to help them since they belonged to another’s clan. He could, however, make certain that the village was supplied with enough game to smoke and dry for the winter.
Nightfall arrived, though the babe didn’t. The longer it took, the more worried the women in the village became, and soon whispers were predicting that mother and child would not survive.
Albert trembled with fear, and Artair walked him away from the gossiping tongues.
“Zia is an excellent healer,” he said, hoping to reassure the lad, though wondering if there could be any truth to the chatter.
“It has been nearly a full day my Ciley has labored to deliver our child. She must grow tired.”
Before Artair could continue to reassure him, Zia stepped out of the cottage, a solemn look on her weary face.
Albert rushed over to her. “Ciley?”
“Is resting, go see her.”
Artair waited until Albert was out of sight and joined Zia. “What’s wrong?”
“I fear the babe is somehow stuck. I’ve seen it happen before.”
“And?”
Zia rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m not sure, but if I don’t deliver the child soon, neither of them will survive the night.”
Artair wrapped his arms around her, and she immediately rested her head on his chest. “You’re tired.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
She smiled up at him. “It’s nice to have you here with me.”
“I’m not much help.”
Zia placed a hand to his cheek and a kiss to his lips. “You have helped more than you know.” She turned to reenter the cottage, but stopped and looked at him. “Keep Albert away until I come for him.”
Artair nodded, and when the young man joined him again, he placed a supportive arm around him and walked Albert to the roasting pit to sit and talk with him.
As the night wore on, Artair became more concerned for mother and child, but he did not let Albert see it. He kept him talking, even suggesting that Albert might find a better home elsewhere for his family, and telling him he’d be welcome in Caithness with the Sinclare clan.
The young man had no chance to respond. Zia stepped out of the cottage and walked toward them. Artair stood along with Albert, intending to help the lad however he could, though he hoped it would be congratulations that he offered.
Zia sighed and ran a hand through her choppy hair as she approached. With hands on her hips, she settled a hard glare on Albert. “So, are you ready to meet your son?”
Albert broke out in a grin. Laughed, then cried. “A son?”
“A big boy for sure, which is why you can have only a few minutes with Ciley and then she must sleep. She is exhausted.” Zia smiled and pointed at the cottage. “Go, they both wait to see you.”
“Thank you. Thank you,” Albert said, bobbing his head as he ran past her to the cottage.
Artair went to Zia, slipped his arm around her waist and ran a gentle finger under each eye. “You’re worn-out. You need to rest. A cottage has been prepared for you.”
She nodded. “The women told me.”
“I’ll take you there when you’re ready.”
“I just need to give instructions to the women who will watch over Ciley throughout the night.” She rested her warm flushed cheek next to his cool one. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll be here,” he said, running his hand down her arm and lacing his fingers with hers, only to reluctantly release her and feel her fingers slip one by one from his grasp.