It was to have been a festive meal, but there was little joy among those of the household that gathered in the hall that evening. It was already dark. I watched the blackness outside the windows, and my spirit called out again. Conor! Finbar! Where are you? Wait for me. I pictured my brothers in the cold under the willows, not knowing if I was near or no. Alone, and in the heart of their enemy’s lands. Exhausted in the dark. A corner of my mind registered the sight of a distraught John being given a goblet of wine and draining it in one gulp, scarcely aware of what he did or where he was. Of Red, with a tight mouth and cold eyes, speaking to his mother in a furious undertone. I thought I could guess why he was angry. He knew I was a healer. He was John’s friend, and Margery’s. He realized I might be able to help them. But Lady Anne did not want me at Margery’s bedside, with my sorceress’s hands delivering the babe. She looked uncomfortable in the face of Red’s anger, but there was a stubborn set about her soft features. Ben sat by me and said little. Nobody had much appetite.

As early as was polite, I left the table, going straight to my room. Lady Anne and her son were still arguing; I didn’t think either of them noticed me. There was still plenty of time. I thrust my feet into my outdoor boots and snatched up the cloak. Alys barely stirred, nestled cosily in the blankets. The candle burned steadily on the wooden chest. I’m coming. Wait just a little longer. I raised my hand to unbolt the outer door.

At that moment there was a sharp knocking, and Megan’s voice at the other door. “Jenny! Jenny, are you there?” It was as if a cold hand clenched itself around my heart. No, not now. Don’t call me now. But it was for Margery, I knew it, and I had no choice but to open the door and to follow Megan back into the house. It had taken them long enough to realize they could not deliver this child without me. The lady Oonagh herself could not have chosen the moment better.

Lady Anne had spoken to the women; or somebody had. Their eyes still followed me nervously as I moved about the room, and more than one of them made a furtive sign of the cross. But they said not a word. Margery was exhausted. She had great dark circles under her eyes, and her skin was cold and clammy.

“Jenny! You’re here!” she said in a faint little voice. “Why didn’t you come? I wanted you. Why wouldn’t you come?”

I glanced at Lady Anne, and she looked away, unable to meet my eyes. I think she realized, despite herself, that she had done the unforgivable.

Midwinter is a long night, but this seemed the longest night of my life, as we battled to help this child make its way into the world. Margery tried and tried but grew more and more weak. And yet, it was a night that went fast, too fast as I worked on, and outside, above the tops of the winter trees, the stars brightened and steadied and then began to fade. And as my hands became wet with blood, and my body soaked with sweat, and as I worked to instruct the women and to reassure Margery without benefit of words, a part of my spirit was calling out to my brothers. Wait for me. Wait just a little longer. Before dawn I will be there.