Erik and Louise were just sitting down to a lunch of hearty beef stew, the smell of which had been driving Erik crazy for the last half hour when the church bell began to toll.
Louise looked out the window in puzzlement as she swallowed a mouthful of stew, then as a faster set of four bells followed by a low gong echoed across the low hills she started. Choking on her new mouthful of fresh stew she turned her grey eyes to the odd looking calendar hanging on the kitchen wall. A strange series of coloured dots and ribbons marked certain days with bold splashes of colour. Her eyes widened in shock as she realised something and she jumped up, knocking her chair backwards.
"What is it?" Erik asked, sounding mystified. Louise hurriedly spat the offending piece of meat into her napkin.
"It has to be Sara," she muttered, "Mabel never has a problem at all." She glanced at Erik, who sat with an eyebrow raised and a spoonful if stew halfway to his mouth.
"Well?"
"I have to go," she called over her shoulder, bolting for the door. Erik dropped his spoon and dashed after her,
"What is going on?" he demanded, Louise stood in her bedroom, pulling on a pair of breeches under her skirt, then untying the swathes of cloth and discarding it onto the floor.
"Sara's gone into labour," she explained, throwing a few things into her kit.
"Which means what?" he asked as she ducked past him and sat on the tinderbox to pull on her boots.
"You here that?" she tilted her head in the towns direction, Erik nodded,
"Of course."
"That's a signal I have worked out with the townsfolk, if an accident happens or a woman goes into labour they peal out that little tune and I'm on my way." Her shoes on, she ran out the door to Cinnamon.
Come on you," she muttered, leaping bareback onto the mare. A second round of bells sounded, more urgent this time, "Oh Lord," she muttered, kicking at Cinnamon's sides. "Stay out of trouble till I get back." She commanded, pulling Cinnamon around and cantering down the road in a cloud of dust. Erik stood in puzzlement, then shrugged and blew her a kiss,
"Good luck Louise," he threw at her ears. She waved one hand in reply, red gold hair streaming over her shoulder as she flew down the road.