Chapter 57 #2
Elspet likes to give a new bairn a good while before she severs it from the fylgja; it’s kept the child safe inside his mother for long enough, and it’s bad spae to cut the cord as soon as they’ve emerged.
When the life beat through its cord from the fylgja has stopped, she gently takes the bairn from her mother and hands her to Beatrix, who cradles her.
She binds the cord with strong yarn, then takes her knife from her box. Gripping the cord firmly with one hand, she cuts it an inch from the binding. Then she takes the child and hands her back to the Queen.
She checks between the Queen’s legs. There is a peedie tear but nothing to cause concern if tended properly – the duck’s grease has done its work.
The Queen will need some pain-relieving thornapple balm and tincture, not too much, though, or it might affect the peedie lass through her mother’s milk.
She smiles at the thought Queen Anna will be able to nurse her own bairn.
But first, they have important work to do.
‘We should move quickly,’ Schoner says. ‘Mar won’t wait for long.’
Elspet nods and turns to Margaret, who steps forward with Kitty Muirhead’s son, handing him over with relief. Elspet takes the lad out of his swaddling, looking at his bright pink face peaceful in sleep. He’s over a week old now – she hopes Mar won’t ken enough to see the difference.
‘I’m sorry, my peedie one,’ she says, looking at the lad who will be the King of Scotland, ‘but we need to make you look like a newborn.’ She rolls him in the blood and birth water on the bed. As the fluids, already cooled, touch his skin, the bairn opens his eyes and gives a hearty cry.
Elspet looks up at the open window in panic, thinking of Mar in the courtyard below. The sound of a crying bairn will bring him running.
‘Your Majesty,’ she says urgently. ‘You must give your bairn to Margaret and Beatrix and take the boy.’
Queen Anna’s face is overcome with fright. She clutches her daughter into her breast. ‘I can’t . . . Now that it comes to it, I can’t let her go.’
‘You must,’ Margaret says firmly, stepping forward and holding her arms out, ‘or all this has been for naught. The Earl of Mar will be here in minutes – and he will take the bairn from your arms, you know he will.’
The Queen looks at her and nods. She kisses her daughter on her forehead. ‘I will see you soon, my elskling.’ She hands the child to Margaret, who quickly wraps her.
‘Beatrix and I will convey the baby to Dunrobin and meet you there. You will see her as soon as you’re well enough to travel.’
‘Wait with her in the ante-chamber until the man has left the back stairs,’ Schoner says urgently. ‘They’ll call off the guards as soon as Mar has the baby.’
Margaret nods and leaves by the side door, followed by Beatrix.
Elspet checks the lad is smeared in plenty of the birthing fluids and hands the still crying bairn to the Queen, who takes him with the shocked expression of someone who doesn’t quite ken what’s happening.
‘Remember, you must put up a fight,’ Elspet says quickly, ‘or Mar will suspect something.’
The Queen stares down into the lad’s face. ‘This poor child. What sort of a life will you have?’
‘He will be denied no comfort,’ Elspet says weakly.
‘Except those that matter most,’ Queen Anna says. ‘We must try and protect him as best we can. He deserves that at least.’
No sooner has she said the words than the door of the chamber flies open. Mar stands in the doorway flanked by two of the King’s soldiers.
‘That Gilbert Primrose is a disgrace, passed out drunk as the Queen gives birth,’ he mutters as he strides in. ‘And where is Barclay? This place is half empty.’
‘We were in need of more medicines,’ Schoner says. ‘He went to collect them.’
‘But you just arrived yourself with fresh supplies,’ Mar says, frowning. ‘What is all this toing and froing from the most important birthing chamber in Scotland?’ The suspicion in his voice sends fear running up Elspet’s spine. She looks at the Queen urgently, who clutches the bairn to her breast.
At that moment, the door to the back staircase opens once more. Elspet’s heart sinks further as Margaret and Beatrix walk into the room, followed by one of the King’s soldiers. Neither of them carries the bairn. All eyes turn to look at them.
‘I found them skulking in the back staircase,’ the soldier says.
‘How dare you? We were not skulking,’ Margaret says imperiously.
‘Then what exactly were you doing?’ the Earl of Mar asks.
Margaret clears her throat but it’s Beatrix who speaks.
‘I’ve never seen a woman give birth before.
What a sight. Lady Margaret kindly took me out for a few minutes to regain my composure.
I was quite shocked by the whole experience.
The pain, the screaming, the blood, the smearing of duck’s grease in the most intimate—’
‘Quite,’ Mar interrupts forcibly. ‘I understand. It’s not something we need to discuss in detail.’
Where is the bairn? Elspet searches the women’s faces for some message, but of course, they cannot say in front of Mar and the soldiers.
The Queen is stricken, but that fits with the role she’s playing. Elspet knows that if Queen Anna opens her mouth, asks the question they’re both desperate to ask, they’ll be discovered.
Elspet must get Mar out of here, and quickly. ‘Why are you here so soon?’ she asks, bringing his attention back to his task. ‘Please give the Queen some time with the lad, I beg of you.’
‘The lad?’ Mar asks. ‘So it’s a boy child?’ All thoughts of the apothecary’s absence and Margaret and Beatrix loitering on the stairs are forgotten with this happy news.
‘He is indeed – a fine, healthy boy,’ Schoner says, stepping forward and regaining his air of superiority.
‘The King will be delighted. Congratulations, Your Majesty.’ Mar bows to the Queen.
‘Then let him stay with me – even for just a few days,’ the Queen says, remembering her role admirably.
Good, Elspet thinks, impressed by the Queen’s rallying. She’s holding the child with convincing desperation. The lad is crying with greater ferocity now. Even the child is acting the part of a bairn being ripped from his mother’s arms.
‘You know I can’t do that,’ Mar says. ‘The King’s instructions are clear. The lad will see his father, then I will personally escort him to my mother’s quarters with a nurse.’
The Queen begins to cry – starting as a whimper which turns to deep sobs that wrack her whole body. She’s not acting. Her daughter is God knows where, taken from her only minutes after being born. These tears are real.
‘We’d better get this over with,’ Mar says, stepping forward. ‘Your Majesty, hand over the child. If you don’t, these men will take him by force. Nobody wants that indignity, do they?’
Still crying, the Queen shakes her head sadly, like a chastened child. She hands over the swaddled bundle to Mar, then her sobs begin again. Elspet rushes forward to wrap her arms around the bereft Queen while Mar sweeps from the room, flanked by the soldiers.
‘Wake up, man, the King will hear of this,’ Mar barks at the snoring Primrose as he passes through the ante-chamber. Then he is gone.
They wait only a few seconds as the footsteps fade. ‘Where is she?’ the Queen hisses. ‘Where is my child?’
Margaret rushes out of the room again, and Beatrix breathes out. ‘We heard the soldier coming up the stairs and had to hide her.’
‘Where?’ the Queen asks, her voice rising. ‘Is she safe?’
‘There was a box on a windowsill halfway down – it was the only place we could see that was big enough.’
‘You put her in a . . .’ the Queen begins but turns as Margaret rushes back in, a bundle in her arms.
‘She’s fine, Your Majesty. She sleeps.’ Margaret hands the bundle to the Queen, who covers her daughter’s face in kisses.
‘We must go now though,’ Margaret says urgently. ‘Mar and the soldiers are gone, and it won’t be long before the King sends others to check on you. This is our chance to get her out of here unobserved.’
This time, the Queen understands. She gives a determined nod before kissing the bairn one more time. ‘I will see you soon, my elskling.’ She hands the bundle back to Margaret, and she and Beatrix rush from the chamber.
Elspet sits on the bed and the Queen leans over to rest her head on her shoulder. As she strokes Queen Anna’s back, shaking as she cries, Elspet prays for the same thing as the Queen – that she will be reunited with her bairns soon.