Chapter 25
Ylva’s pains started in earnest while she was, of all things, wondering whether the eroded carving on the stone arch stretching above her head represented, as it seemed to her, a mother holding her child in her arms.
The Roman ruins on the other side of the forest had turned out to be as beautiful and mysterious as she’d hoped they would be.
Ulf’s uncle, Torsten, had told them about the site the day before, while the whole family had gathered outside Wolf and Merewen’s hut to eat.
He and his wife, Aife, had apparently played there as children and had more recently used them as refuge from a storm.
There had been such fire in his eyes when he had talked of the place that Ylva had immediately been seized by the urge to go see the ruins.
Unable to refuse her anything, her husband had agreed to take her and Oslac in the morning, even if both men had pointed out that she was very near her term for such an outing.
“It’s not so far,” she’d argued. “And we won’t trot. It will be fine.”
She now wished she had listened to them.
“What is it?” Though she had not said a word or uttered a sound, Ulf, ever attentive to her comfort, would have seen her blanch at the realization that the moment to meet their child had come.
It was her own fault. From the moment she had woken up there had been this strange dullness in her lower back but, eager to explore the ruins, she had decided to ignore it.
And here was the result.
“It’s—” She gasped as another twinge twisted her insides.
“The baby,” the two men said at the same time, both sounding even more panicked than she felt.
“Wait here,” Oslac shouted, already breaking into a run to reach the horse Wolf had gifted him a few weeks ago. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Ylva stared at Ulf when silence fell back among the ruins.
“Are you sure this is it?”
Alas, she was. What was happening was exactly what Helga and Cwenthryth had told her would happen. “Yes.”
The baby would be born today, there was no doubting it.
She wondered if she had time to ride back to the village.
Perhaps. But the idea of sitting on a horse right now was torture.
Better to wait calmly here, and hope Oslac was back in time with someone able to help her.
Helga, Cwenthryth, or even Tola, who had after all settled in the village with Judith.
“Lie down,” Ulf told her gently.
Ylva shook her head. “I’d rather stand for now. Or even better, walk.”
It seemed odd but Ulf’s mother had told her that walking would help keep worry at bay, and help with the progress of the child.
Leaning on her husband’s arm, she paced back and forth along the half-collapsed wall of what had once been an opulent palace.
Then, after a while, she did feel the need to lie down.
This was it.
“Ulf, I’m scared.”
This was what she had told him the day they had first made love. But everything had gone smoothly then, her body had shown her what to do. Would it be the same today? She could only hope so.
“I’m scared too,” Ulf admitted, doing his best to appear calm so as not to add to her worry. “But I trust you. You are one of the bravest women I know. You are going to bring my daughter into the world safely.”
“It’s a son.”
Somehow Ylva found the strength to give a small smile at the familiar jest. Over the last four months she and her husband had argued over the sex of the child.
Ulf was convinced it would be a girl and she had the inexplicable conviction that it was a boy they would name after his father.
But, thanks to Oslac, they knew what name to give the child if it was, after all, a girl. Brenna. Like her mother.
“It might be a son,” Ulf soothed, relenting for the first time. Evidently, he thought the moment ill-chosen to contradict her. She loved him for it. “But, in truth, I care not. Either would be wonderful.”
“Yes, I don’t care either. I just hope Oslac is wrong.”
Because of the size of her stomach, her brother was adamant she was carrying twins, even though Cwenthryth and Helga had both assured her that was not the case.
She wanted to believe them, who knew what they were talking about, rather than him.
The prospect of giving birth to one baby was frightening enough. Two was unthinkable.
“I think I need to lie down now.”
“Of course. Let me go get the saddle bags,” Ulf answered. “Will you be all right alone just a moment?”
Ylva nodded. The men had packed everything needed to see to her comfort that morning, a blanket, food and drink, and never had she had more cause to congratulate herself more on this foresight.
Ulf set off at a trot and was back in a trice.
She lay on the blanket he’d spread on the mossy ground and looked up at him.
The contractions, as Cwenthryth had called them, seemed to be increasing in intensity and coming more rapidly.
This could mean only one thing. She was glad to have talked about this with her mother-in-law a few weeks ago, because now she knew more or less what to expect.
Nothing in her previous life had prepared her for this.
“You’re… You might to have to help me if Oslac doesn’t come back in time,” she whimpered, terrified at the prospect of doing this alone. How long would it take for the babe to actually come out? Cwenthryth had told her it varied a lot from woman to woman. “I know it’s not something you—”
“I will do whatever needs doing,” Ulf cut in, placing a kiss on her forehead. “You just concentrate on what you need to do. You can do this, my love, I know you can. You have faced much worse in your life.”
She was glad for the certainty in his voice because at the moment she needed all the reassurance she could get.
“Tell me what you see on that stone arch, please,” she panted.
“What stone arch?” Ulf sounded bewildered, and unsure why she would ask such a thing now.
“There. Just above us.”
He tilted his head up and suddenly the tension seemed to leave his face. His shoulders relaxed and he smiled at her.
“I see a mother holding her baby, like you will soon. It can only be a sign.” He removed a strand of hair from her forehead and took her hand in his. “Breathe, my love. Everything will be fine.”
By the time Oslac came back, driving the blacksmith’s cart with Cwenthryth by his side, it was all over. And everything was indeed fine. More than fine. Ylva was holding a healthy, beautiful baby boy in her arms. Their son, Einar.
By the gods. They had a son. Ulf could barely comprehend it. They had a son. Ylva had been right. He smiled, suddenly convinced that her dream would come true and they would go on to have three more children. It would suit him perfectly. He just hoped at least one of them would be a girl.
“I think he’ll want to suckle soon,” he said, remembering what his mother had said about what happened at births. But for now, the babe was content, nestled in his mother’s arms, looking at her through intense blue eyes.
“Don’t you think he’s perfect?” Ylva asked, sounding awed.
“I do. As are you.”
He settled her against his flank and placed a kiss on the top of her head. To think he had been the first person to ever touch his son was the oddest feeling.
“Please tell me you will give him the same happy childhood you had.” Ylva started crying, rubbing her nose on the crown of the baby’s head gently. “Nothing like mine. Tell me you will give him—”
“I will nothing. We will. Together. We will take him swimming underwater and teach him to ride, we will build a tree house for him and his siblings, we will eat with him by the river, we will sleep in the woods, roast rabbits over a huge fire, explore caves and we will even show him how to make flower garlands, though, in truth, I think that had better come from you than me.”
To his relief, Ylva laughed. “Yes, we will.”
The sound of hooves interrupted the kiss they shared while imagining this new life awaiting them.
“Ulf! Ylva!”
“Mother.”
Ulf received her into his arms as she jumped from the driver’s seat, looking frantic. “How did it—”
“Everyone is well,” he assured her. “Come, meet little Einar.”
“Einar. Oh. What a beautiful idea, thank you. Your father will love that.” His mother was crying by the time she knelt down by his wife and son.
“I’m so relieved it’s over and everything went well because, to tell you the truth, I am not sure I would have managed to deliver my grandchild without bursting into tears.
But I can help deal with the afterbirth,” she added, when she saw Ylva wince.
Of course. How had he forgotten about that? It was not quite over yet. It seemed that his mother had arrived in time for this all too important part. Ulf was grateful for her presence, because he knew this was often where things went wrong for the mother.
“Ulf, will you hold your son while I see to your wife?”
Say what she might, all tears had instantly been forgotten, and his mother was once again the competent midwife.
Though he’d held more than one babe in his life, Ulf felt an odd stirring in his gut when he placed his son against his chest and felt the little head settle in the crook of his neck. Such happiness, such pride!
By his side, Oslac was wiping his own cheeks, not trying to hide his emotions.
“I have a nephew.” He sounded awed at the realization. “I’m so happy to be here to see that.”
“Yes. I’m glad you are here to meet him.
” It surely meant a lot to Ylva to have her only brother here with her as she became a mother.
And his brother-in-law was a good man, one who had helped get him out of the cell all those months ago without hesitation when they barely knew one another.
“Thank you for going to get the cart to bring Ylva and Einar home and fetching my mother.”
“I cannot imagine what you and poor Ylva went through. I’m sorry I wasn’t faster but it—”
“It’s all right.” The man would have done all he could, Ulf didn’t doubt it, but he could not fly.
“Next time don’t let Ylva sway you,” Oslac said, shaking his head. “She will have to stay within walking distance of the village when her term is near.”
“Yes. I confess I won’t mind if I never have to do this again.”
“I can imagine.” His brother-in-law made a grimace of sympathy. “Truly, whatever some people say, women are not the weaker sex.”
Being married to his she-wolf, Ulf could not agree more. He closed his eyes and lifted his head to the sun.
“There. All done,” he heard his mother announce a short while later. She sounded satisfied, which told him everything was as it should be. Now everything was truly over.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But I suppose we had better put the little one to Ylva’s breast now. Look.”
Ulf laughed. Indeed the babe had started to burrow into his neck in search of something he would never find. Only his mother would be able to help. “Yes. The poor mite is getting agitated.”
Lying on the blanket, Ylva looked exhausted and yet, unutterably beautiful. He gave her a kiss as he deposited the baby on her chest.
“Everything all right?”
Ulf couldn’t help a smile at her question. “I think I should be the one asking you that, my love. But yes, Einar and I are both fine. What about you?”
“I’m f—” A wince interrupted her. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
Yes, but she would be in pain right now. By the gods, why hadn’t he been the one to suffer? Why did it have to be her? Why didn’t she hate him, after what she’d been through?
“I thank you for the gift of my son,” Ulf said, placing another kiss on her temple. “I love him more than words can express.”
Her face softened and all her pain seemed forgotten. “I know. So do I. And I thank you for the gift as well. I didn’t make him on my own, you know.”
No, he knew. He would cherish the memories of that night forever, the night he had found the adventurous lover he’d dreamed of, the woman he needed, the wife he loved and the mother of his children.
“Here, Ylva, if we do this right, it shouldn’t hurt.”
Once his mother had helped position the baby correctly, she retreated to the cart with Oslac, giving them privacy.
Ulf sat down next to Ylva and allowed himself the pleasure of watching his son feed. He couldn’t wait to get to know this child, the first of the next generation of wolves.