The Innocent (22 page)

Elf moaned.

Sister Winifred took up a clean cloth, and dipped it in the bucket of cool water. She wiped Elf’s beaded brow. "There, child, you are but suffering what our Blessed Mother suffered, and is that not true glory?"

Sister Joseph, the faint aroma of the stables about her, arrived lugging a small manger. "I have brought the smallest of the feeding troughs for the child," she said. "It is thoroughly scrubbed, and lined with clean straw strewn with sweet clover and grass. There is a linen cloth over it all. The baby will be quite safe in it as we have no cradle." She plunked the wooden manger down. "If it was good enough for the Christ Child, it is good enough for this child," she finished pithily "How is she doing?"

"Very well," Orva said.

"I will never do this again!"
Elf said piteously. "Why did no one tell me it hurt so much to have a baby? Ohhhhhh!"

"Hush, lady, you are having a very easy time of it," Orva scolded her.

"I want to push!" Elf cried.

"Wait!" Orva told her.
"Now!
Push now, lady, as hard as you can! Brace her well, Sister Columba!"

Elf screamed, pushing hard, struggling to rid her body of this bulk that threatened to tear her asunder.

"Come on, Eleanore de Montfort, you can do it!" Sister Joseph encouraged the straining woman.

Sister Winifred slipped a small leaf into Elf’s mouth. "Chew on it, dear," she said. " It will give you strength."

"Ohhhhhh!" Elf wailed again. Then she looked back at her friend. "Be glad you are a nun, Matti!" she half sobbed. She could feel the mass inside her propelling itself forward. The pressure was fierce. She groaned again.

"Wait!" Orva commanded sternly. Then,
"Now!
Push, lady!"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Elf’s beautiful face was concentrated in her great effort.

"The head! I see the head!" Orva said excitedly. "Just a few more pushes, and we will have the child, lady. Be brave! When the next pain comes bear down with all of your might."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Elf screamed, her face squeezing itself tightly again. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!"

Orva’s face was now a mask of total attention as she went about her duties. The child’s shoulders and partial upper body slid forth. Gently she turned it, wiping its little face. Two blue eyes glared at her. The small mouth opened to draw its first breath.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Elf moaned, pushing again as hard as she might. She was so tired. She had never been so tired in all her life.

"Just one more time, lady!" Orva said.

"I don't think I can," Elf protested.

"You must. It is almost born. Just one big push, lady!"

Elf bore down with every bit of strength she had. She was rewarded by a blessed feeling of relief as the child slipped completely from her body, and howled mightily.

"It is a boy!" Orva crowed. "Ashlin has its next lord, praise be to God, our Father, His blessed son, Lord Jesu, and our Mother Mary!"

"Amen! Amen!" the nuns with them echoed, their faces wreathed in smiles of delight. Surely this child was a special child, having been born in their convent.

"This is a fine day for a boy to be born," Sister Joseph announced. "May thirtieth is St. Hubert’s feast day, and he is the patron of hunters. Eleanore de Montfort, your son must have Hubert as part of his name, eh? What will you call him?"

"Simon," Elf said. "Ranulf and I discussed it, and we decided to call our son Simon, after his father. He will be baptized Simon Hubert. Is Father Anselm here? Simon must be baptized immediately. Someone send for my husband. Ranulf must know he has a son. Ah! Orva, I yet have pain. What is it?"

"Just the afterbirth, lady. Willa, hand me that basin!"

About them everyone worked busily. Sister Winifred had cut the baby’s cord, and neatly knotted it. She and Sister Joseph gently bathed the infant first in wine, then warm water, and finally olive oil. She handed him off to Sister Columba, who swaddled the baby in soft linen cloth. Willa had taken the younger nun’s place, bracing Elf up while her mother saw to the afterbirth, which was set aside in its basin to be buried beneath an oak tree later. Elf was cleaned up, put into yet another clean chemise, and carried by the strong Orva to her bed. Sister Winifred brought the new mother a cup of strong wine with a raw egg beaten into it, and laced with herbs to help her sleep.

"I want to see Simon," Elf said. "Everyone has seen my son but me. Has Ranulf been sent for yet?" She gratefully sipped the wine.

"Willa will ride home," Orva said as she placed Elf’s son in her arms. The child, howling lustily, immediately ceased his wailing in the comfort of his mother’s arms. "It will be light enough for her to reach the manor before dark."

"Will she be safe?" Elf was concerned even as she turned her attention to her son. "He is beautiful," she said softly.

"Did I hear the cry of a child?" The abbess entered the hall.

"Elf has had a son, Reverend Mother," Sister Columba said excitedly.

"He must be baptized," Elf said sleepily. The herbs were beginning to do their job.

The abbess looked down at Simon Hubert de Glandeville. "He seems a healthy lad, praise God. I think tomorrow is soon enough, Eleanore. Besides, you will want his father here with you. Who are his godparents to be, my daughter?"

As tired as she was, Elf looked distressed at the question. "I want you all to be his godmothers," she said. "It seems appropriate, as you are all my family and Simon was born here."

"I do not believe little lord Simon can have that many godmothers, Eleanore," the abbess said. "I think Sister Columba should act for all of us. That will satisfy the church, and should satisfy you as well. But who will be his godfather?"

"That is my lord’s right," Elf told the abbess. "I like your idea, Reverend Mother. My son shall be a benefactor to St. Frideswide’s because of the many kindnesses you have rendered his mother, and because I shall teach him it is the right thing to do." This last speech took the remainder of Elf’s strength, and her eyes closed almost immediately thereafter, her arm still cradling her newborn son.

"Put him in his makeshift cradle," the abbess said with a small smile. "Then we must go and give thanks in the church for the safe delivery of this child, and for the well-being of his good mother." She turned and glided out, followed by Sister Joseph and Sister Winifred.

"But if Willa is to go for Lord Ranulf, who will watch over Elf?" Sister Columba said aloud.

"I will watch over my mistress, sister. You need have no fear," Orva assured her.

"But you must clean all of this up…"

"Go with your sisters and the abbess," Orva said in kindly tones, understanding the nun’s concern. After all, the lady was her oldest and dearest friend. "When you have completed your prayers, you can return and help me. I will be glad of your aid, good sister."

Sister Columba nodded. "You are right," she said, and hurried off to catch up with the others.

"You are capable of saddling a horse," Orva said to Willa. "Go now to the stables and do so. Tell the lord that his lady is well, and his son, praise God, is healthy. Return with him, for I will need your help-and do not let old Ida come along, Willa. Time enough for her to see this child when we return to Ashlin in a few days. Besides, I do not know that the lady should not choose a younger woman to care for her son. Old Ida is over seventy now. Why she will not simply accept her many years and sit in the sun, I do not know."

"Perhaps she feels that when she is dead is time enough to sit in the sun, Ma," Willa, sympathetic to her grandparent, dared to say. "She wants to be useful. If you were her age, would you give up all that is lively and of interest to you, and… and just sit?"

Orva stared hard at her daughter. Willa was usually a foolish creature. How surprising that she made such a clever observation. "Hurry along, girl," she answered her daughter, ignoring Willa’s astute question. No, she thought, she certainly wouldn't accept or be defeated by old age, but she was far different from her mother-in-law, old Ida.

As if she could read her mother’s thoughts, Willa gave her parent a saucy grin before running out of the guest house and across the cloister to the stable. Since Sister Joseph was nowhere to be found, Willa saddled her own horse, mounted, and with a wave to Sister Perpetua at the gate, cantered off toward Ashlin. Arriving, she called to Cedric, "Where is the lord? I bring news." She was swiftly led into the hall, barely curtsying as she hurried up to the high board. "My lord, you have a fine son, born this day at the convent of St. Frideswide's! The lady is also well. Oh!" It was then Willa saw the other lord. The man had visited the manor only a few weeks past. He was a grand one, he was. "Forgive me, my lord," she said, blushing. " I was so excited to bring you the lady’s news, I did not notice your guest."

Ranulf was grinning broadly. "You are forgiven, Willa. Tell me, girl, the boy is healthy? And my sweet wife as well?"

"Aye, my lord," Willa replied, and then went on to tell her master of the day’s events. "Will you come back to the convent with me, for I was sent to fetch you. The lady is eager to see you."

"Go to the kitchens and get something to eat, girl," Ranulf said. You will return to the convent with me. Be prepared to leave within the hour."

"Yes, my lord," Willa answered. Then she curtsied again and went off to be fed. She had not eaten this day, and she was starving.

"Congratulations, Ranulf," Sir Garrick Taliferro said. "A son is a good thing, and now you have an heir for your manor."

"The first of several, I hope." Ranulf could not stop smiling. Suddenly he sobered. "We will go on to Worcester from the convent. You say you do not know why it is Duke Henry wishes to see me?"

"Nay. All I can tell you is he came secretly, then sent me to fetch you. I know not what it is he wishes you to do. The sooner we get there, the sooner you will know."

"We will have to remain the night at the convent," Ranulf said. "We will reach it just before dark, but we can go no farther until the morning."

"I did not expect us to reach Worcester for at least a week," Sir Garrick said. "The duke will be pleased to see us so quickly."

The two knights and the serving girl departed shortly thereafter for St. Frideswide's. The sun had dipped behind the hills separating England from Wales when they arrived. Sister Perpetua opened the gates for them, smiling as they rode through. Dismounting before the stables, they gave their horses into Sister Joseph’s care.

"Praise God you have come, my lord," the abbess said, hurrying forward. "Eleanore is most eager to see you, and I imagine you are most eager to see your son, eh?" She smiled at him.

Everybody was smiling, it seemed, Ranulf thought. The introduction of his companion accomplished, the new father said, "Sir Garrick and I must beg a night’s hospitality of you, my lady abbess."

"It is granted, gladly."

"Where is Eleanore?" he asked.

"Willa will take you to the guest house, my lord," the abbess replied.

"We have few men as guests," the abbess told Sir Garrick. "The lady Eleanore’s serving woman will show you where you may lodge, sir. Food will be brought to you both." Then with a nod she left him.

The two men followed Willa into the guest house. Willa showed Sir Garrett where men guests were housed, as Orva had hurried forward to curtsy and claim Ranulf’s attention.

"Welcome, my lord. The mistress is eager for you to come to her and for you to see young lord Simon Hubert," she said.

"Was it difficult for her?" Ranulf asked the midwife.

Orva shook her head. "I would have thought such a little girl birthing such a fine strapping infant would have had a far harder time than she had, my lord. Her labor was but a few short hours, and she bore her child easily. It is rare to see such a simple birth. It was as if the angels were on her side, my lord."

"They surely were," he said softly, "for my Eleanore is the best of women, Orva."

"She is in there, my lord." Orva pointed to the door into the women’s dormitory, and her master hurried through it.

"Petite!" Ranulf knelt by Elf’s bedside, kissing her forehead.

Elf smiled up at her husband. Dear God, how she loved him! "You are here at last," she said. "I wanted them to send for you when I went into labor, Ranulf, but they said birthing was no place for a man. Look by the fire in the little manger. It is your son."

"You are all right, petite?"

She nodded. "Go, and see Simon Hubert! He is the most beautiful child, my lord."

He arose from her side and went over to the makeshift cradle. Kneeling, he gazed in rapt admiration at his son, lying upon his stomach, his perfectly round little head turned to one side. The head was topped with reddish fuzz. "He has your hair," Ranulf said softly as his finger gently touched the infant’s head. "He is beautiful." Standing again, he came back to her side, drawing up a stool so he might sit next to her. "Simon we agreed upon. Why Hubert?"

"It is St. Hubert’s feast day, Ranulf," she explained, "and St. Hubert is the patron saint of hunters. I thought it a manly name, but he cannot be baptized until the morrow, so if you do not Like it, we do not have to call him so."

"Nay, I think it a fine name, Eleanore."

"You were right, my lord," Elf said. "I should not have come visiting at St. Frideswide’s so near my time, but I never thought for a moment that I would have my child here."

He took her hand in his and kissed each finger in a now well-loved gesture. "While I would have preferred our firstborn birthed at Ashlin, petite, you were as safe here as you would have been there. I know your travail was made easier surrounded by the good nuns, whom you love so well and who love you. I am not angry at you."

"They were so sweet, Ranulf. The abbess was as calm as ever. Sister Winifred brought herbs to help my pains and relax me. Sister Joseph scoured a small manger, then filled it with sweet grasses, and covered it with a fine linen cloth so Simon would have a cradle. Matti stayed with me throughout it all. Whatever fears I harbored secretly, I lost encircled by their love and prayers."