The girl brought ale and I sipped it while the baby’s father and uncle came to the door, holding sacks over their heads against the rain, and Ide took the child over to show them. Ross spoke to his wife across the chamber, his face aglow with delight. Fann managed a smile and a few words. Later on, when I was more confident her bleeding would stay under control, we’d let him come in and sit with her awhile. I’d taken quite a risk with that first draught. I’d have to watch her until I could be sure there were no adverse effects.

Ide sent the men away, gave the baby back to his mother, cast a firm eye over me. I forestalled her question. ‘I’ll be fine in a moment. Really.’

‘You worried me for a bit, Mistress. Looked like you’d seen a ghost.’

‘I believe all will be well now,’ I said in a murmur, not wanting Fann to hear. ‘But there’s always the possibility of complications. I’m sure you understand that. We need to watch both of them. The child is small. He’ll probably need to be coaxed to feed.’

‘Will you stay for the night?’ Ide asked. ‘I know you must be busy, folk needing you and so on, but if you could we’d be so grateful. And your friend, of course.’

The prospect of the ride home was not appealing. It was late in the day and I was dog-tired, more tired than I had any right to be, since it was Fann who’d been doing the hard work. It would be sensible to stay anyway. If I was here until morning, I could reassure myself that Fann was recovering well and the baby feeding before I left them. ‘That is a kind offer, thank you, and I’d welcome it.’

‘I think you saved my daughter’s life,’ Ide said quietly. ‘For that, you’ll have friends in Longwater forever, Mistress Blackthorn.’

‘It’s what I do,’ I said, and thought immediately how churlish that sounded. ‘I’m glad to be of service.’

The afterbirth was taken away to be buried under a special tree when the weather cleared. An old ritual and a good one. I wondered if the spreading hawthorn still grew in the garden of that burned-out house in the village where Cass and I had settled. That tree would have many tales to tell, happy, sad, tender, joyful, cruel and tragic. I would never know. I would never go back there.

A tap at the door. It was Grim, with Ripple at his heels. I went out to talk with him, under the eaves of the house.

‘All’s well here,’ I said. ‘But they’ll both need watching for a while. Ide has suggested we stay overnight.’