Epilogue
The Miracle
Two years later …
Bridei paced the floor in the broch, growing increasingly agitated with every circuit.
“Why’s it taking so long? They’ve been up there all afternoon.”
A few feet away, Heolstor huffed out a breath and filled a cup of mead. “For the love of The Mother, would you stop pacing? You’re making me nervous.” He thrust out the cup toward Bridei. “Here, have something to drink.”
Bridei shook his head. He did not want to numb himself with mead, he wanted to know if Hea was well.
He halted in the middle of the rush and heather-strewn floor and looked up at the ceiling.
Hea had disappeared up there late that morning with Ciara and Modwen and had not reappeared since.
Even more worryingly, he had not heard any noise.
He thought women screamed and groaned in childbirth, but Hea’s silence unnerved him.
Was she too weak? Was she bleeding to death?
His stomach churned, sweat beading his skin.
He had been less nervous before going into battle.
Childbirth was dangerous—he knew many women did not survive it.
Hea was strong, and although her belly had grown extremely large in the last stages of the pregnancy, causing her to waddle like a goose, she had appeared healthy throughout the nine months.
Not only that, but Modwen had fussed over her, and watched her carefully throughout.
If the healer had been worried about Hea, she had hidden it well.
He swiveled on his heel, turning to face Heolstor. “I can’t stand it—I’m going up there to check on her.”
Heolstor rose to his feet, his face sympathetic. He and Ciara now had an infant daughter, Mila; he knew what Bridei was going through. Not only that, but Ciara’s labor had been difficult, and it had taken her many long days afterward to recover. “I’ll come with you.”
They had just made their way to the foot of the stairs leading to the level above when Ciara appeared at the top of them. Bridei’s gaze went to her face—and relief crashed over him when he saw that although she was flushed, Ciara was smiling.
“I was just coming to get you.” She beckoned them both upstairs. “It is over. You’re a father, Bridei.”
He rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. “And, Hea … is she well?”
“Aye, just exhausted. One birth is bad enough … but two.”
Two.
Bridei entered the warm space, the air heavy with the metallic smell of blood. His gaze traveled to where Hea sat propped up against a pile of furs. Her face was pale and drawn, but she was smiling. Two tiny, red-faced babes suckled at her breasts.
Bridei stopped, awestruck. “Twins?”
Her mouth quirked. “You weren’t expecting that, were you?”
Bridei shook his head, momentarily lost for words. That was why her belly had grown so large—Modwen had thought she was carrying a large babe, but instead, she’d been carrying two small ones.
Modwen stood nearby, her face glowing with sweat as she grinned at him. “Two fine, healthy sons, milord.”
Bridei smiled back at her before crossing to the furs.
He then lowered himself so that he perched next to his wife.
“You did well, my love.” His gaze then shifted down to the two suckling babes.
The sight of their scrunched-up faces and tiny hands caused something inside him to melt; he had teased Heolstor at how he had cooed over his baby daughter, but now he understood.
These were his sons, his flesh and blood. He and Hea had made them.
Bridei glanced up, his tears stinging his eyes, and met Hea’s gaze. “I can’t believe it,” he said huskily. “They are a miracle.”
She smiled back, her own moss-green eyes glittering. “They are, aren’t they?”
“Can I touch them?”
“Of course.”
Bridei reached out and ran a light finger over their downy heads, their tiny chubby arms. “Have you thought of names?” he asked.
“I thought I would let you choose,” she replied. “Go on … do you have any preferences?”
Bridei thought for a moment, his gaze returning to his sons, before answering. “I had two uncles who died when I was young, before I was sent to foster at Bebbanburg, but I still remember them fondly,” he said with a wistful smile. “I’d like to name our sons after them: Cinn and Brei.”
He glanced up and saw an odd expression flit across Hea’s face. Bridei frowned. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like the names?”
“They are warriors’ names,” Modwen said from behind him, pride in her voice.
“Perhaps one of them will wed our daughter,” Heolstor piped up. He had stopped at the top of the stairs and leaned against the wall, an arm slung across Ciara’s shoulders. His wife turned, giving him an arch look. “You’re worse than a woman … match-making already?”
Heolstor gave a shrug. “It pays to look ahead.”
Bridei smiled at their banter before he turned back to Hea.
She was watching him with a soft gaze, a smile curving her full lips.
To him, she had never looked so beautiful.
He reached out, took her hand, and raised it to his lips, kissing it.
Even two years on, he did not take this woman for granted.
There was always something new to discover about her; she stimulated his mind as much as his body.
“So the names will do?” he murmured.
Her smile widened. “Aye—they’re perfect.”
The End