Léofe laced her dress with trembling fingers, the noise in the courtyard spurring her forward. She tugged on her boots, fetched a cloak, and ran from the room.
Alfrida was not easy to find. Léofe was forced to shoulder herself through a mass of people, who seemed to be on the move, perhaps—it looked as though they were headed towards the caves. The entrance which she was aware of was in the cellar below the kitchen, and while she tried to look into the kitchen for a glimpse of the lady, too many heads of people filled the room and she was forced to elbow her way out to look elsewhere.
With the Deep emptying of the refugees, it seemed eerily empty, and Léofe felt her heart pounding as she raced to find Alfrida. What on earth had happened the last days, while she had been indisposed in her misery? Even the barest trace remembrance of Théodred made her head hurt, and she pushed it down. She had to find Alfrida!
Just her luck—after nearly a half an hour of searching, Léofe at last found the lady in her own chamber, sitting on the bed and not moving at all, an odd sight compared with the remainder of the Deep. By then she was breathing heavily from the exertion, and Alfrida did not turn as Léofe stepped into the chamber.
"Erk is gone," the lady said, her voice stilted in the silent room. "Léofe, how can I carry on now, when I know he rode to his death?" Léofe said nothing, but walked over to the bed and sat by Alfrida, embracing her tightly. The older woman's body began to shake. "What if this is the price I pay for the babe I carry?" Alfrida whimpered. "For all my previous children died long before this…"
"Erkenbrand will return," Léofe said, feeling that even if it were a lie, it was a merciful one. "He is the best fighter I have seen."
"That hardly signifies! Théodred had years of experience, but was still cut down…"
Léofe felt a flood of tears building behind her eyes, but she frowned her trembling chin to stillness and took a deep, trembling breath. "We cannot think of it!" she said. "Be present, Alfrida; we must be present! I—I think we might be needed here, especially you, and—"
"My brother is here," Alfrida interrupted coldly. "The same brother that allowed himself to be spell-bound by a filthy worm and ignored his kingdom. The one that caused his own son's death!"
"Do not think of your brother! Think of Erkenbrand! Whatever would he say to see you thus?"
The lady let out a bark of laughter. "He would tell me that he did not marry a milksop and so he would prefer if I would 'pull myself together, thank you very much.'"
Léofe allowed herself a wan smile; somehow it was too easy to hear Erkenbrand's gruff but half-joking reprimand. "Well, what are we to do?" she asked lightly. "To see that you do not earn such a tongue-lashing from Erkenbrand."
Alfrida was quiet for a moment, and then sat up, wiping her eyes and looking out the window with a determined expression. Her lips thinned, and in a strong voice, she said, "Saruman has revealed his hand; we are to prepare for battle."
.
.
Truthfully there was very little for them to do; the order to retreat into the caves had been delivered by the king's captain and carried out by a number of soldiers. Léofe was sure that she and Alfrida were the last women to make their way to the much safer mountain. As they passed the hall, her eyes were drawn inward, and in the dim light of torches she saw an oh-too-familiar profile, and a gasp caught in her throat. Théodred! He was there, standing among armored men and speaking closely with them. Her shaking legs turned her to the hall, but Alfrida's grip on her arm was too tight. At the sound of their scuffle, the tall man with long, burnished gold hair just as Théodred's turned—it was not him. Léofe's smile faded, a ball of iron forming in her stomach as she saw the lined face and deep frown. No, it was not Théodred.
"Come," Alfrida said, and Léofe was tugged forward. "Théoden will be displeased that we are not yet in the caves."
Léofe's face burned, and she stumbled along with Alfrida towards the kitchens, down a staircase and at last to a heavy wooden door, which was guarded by a single soldier. He inclined his head and opened the door for them, and they were through. It thudded shut behind them, and Alfrida took a deep breath. Léofe blinked, looking down at a massive, sparkling cavern dotted with the small figures of women and children. Somehow, despite knowing of the Glittering Caves, she had not expected something so…huge and beautiful.
"It is nice, is it not?" Alfrida was frowning as she, too, gazed around the cave. "Erk used to bring me to—"
But why, exactly, Erkenbrand used to bring his wife to the caves, was not to be explained. They were interrupted by a small, wheezing girl who had run up the steps to them, and choked out between breaths, "Lady, my mum is having a baby!"
"Now?"
"Yes, lady!"
Léofe only saw the barest flicker of unease in Alfrida's eyes before she steeled herself, and nodded. "Take us to her."
The other refugees had been courteous to the laboring woman. Several crates and barrels had been propped up around her to give her privacy, and as soon as they entered the little nook, Léofe knew it was for good reason. A crying, red-faced woman, swollen with child and soaked from sweat and fluids, would bring no peace or comfort to the anxious.
"Lie on your back," Alfrida commanded to the woman, who had been leaning against the stone wall and moaning. "Léofe, help her. Girl, what is your name?"
The little girl looked close to tears, but was able to stammer as she stared at her mother, "Inge, lady."
"Inge, your mother needs fresh water. Can you find some? There are stores kept in the back caves, in little rooms."
"Er—yes, lady."
"Ask for help if you need to; there ought to be a servant nearby." Little Inge ran off, but by that time Alfrida could not spare her a glance. Léofe had, with difficult, succeeded in helping the panting woman to the ground, and Alfrida rolled up her sleeves to examine her.
"And what is your name?" she asked the woman in a gentle voice.
"Ingwyn," the woman said through gritted teeth.
"Is this your second, Ingwyn?"
"Fifth."
Alfrida glanced up with a smile. "Then you should be very experienced indeed!"
Ingwyn's hair was matted to her face, but she took several breaths as she answered, "I always think so, my lady, but then the labor begins."
Alfrida did chuckle at that, and then pull the lady's skirt back down as she stood. "A few more hours and you should be greeting your babe," she said cheerfully. "Léofe, help Ingwyn into whatever position she is comfortable in, and then help me to find some rags. You will only be alone for a moment," she added to Ingwyn. Léofe half-pulled her to her feet, and then helped her to lean again against the wall as she began to groan again. Casting her a worried look, Léofe hurried to Alfrida's side. She was wiping her hands on a handkerchief, her brows creased.
"The child is breech," the lady said in a low voice. "It will be much longer than a few hours. Can I count on your help?"
Léofe's throat tightened. Though she had never attended a human birth, most of the breech horse births she had experienced had not ended well. "Can nothing be done?" she asked.
"I am going to try to find some spare healing supplies. I do hope we can be spared a little from the wounded fighters!" Alfrida turned her face away, but not before Léofe saw tears shine in her eyes. "Oh, if only the babe could have waited! Why did it come to this?" The lady's voice was choked, and she drew her arm across her eyes.
"We can do it, Alfie!" Léofe said, though she could hardly believe herself. Where had this sudden strength come from? "If the men and boys can protect us, the least we can do is bring a life into the world."
Alfrida raised her head to give Léofe a watery smile before sighing. "And have you any experience with midwifery?"
"Only with horses. Is the principle similar enough?"
"I do hope so! Now where is that Inge? I shall go find her, and you must help Ingwyn. And Léofe," Alfrida said as Léofe was turning back. "You must remember: sing that child out!" Léofe nearly laughed at the lady's steely gaze. Of course she knew to sing the babe into the world! Rohirric superstition held that singing out a baby would help it to survive, and then to grow strong and hale. Léofe had done so for fillies and colts for years. That part, at least, would be the same.
Ingwyn was shaking with sobs when Léofe returned, and the light feeling she had been nursing dissipated. "Hold my hand," she said to the woman, forgetting her years of discomfort and awkwardness in the company of others. "I will push on your back when the next pain comes."
"Th—thank you…" Ingwyn whimpered, and sure enough, she let out a cry as her body tensed. Léofe pushed her forearm into the woman's back, harder and harder until at last she relaxed again, breathing out slowly.
"Where are you from?" Léofe asked, distracting both of them as she rubbed the woman's back. She was so used to massaging mares during breech births that she did not even think twice of it.
"Grimslade. It was levelled by orcs only a fortnight ago," Ingwyn said, her tone bitter.
"Will you return to rebuild your home?"
"I cannot. I wish not to dwell near the reminder that all my children save Inge are dead." Ingwyn's body shuddered again, and Léofe pushed into her back once more. Then remembering Alfrida's parting advice, began to sing.
Dream little baby, dream of a valley green
Far over mountains by the sea
Dream little baby, one day no more you'll roam
Then you'll awake and find a home
Sleep little baby, sleep 'til the morning comes
Mama will keep you from all harm
Sleep little baby under the western sky
I'll sing you a mountain lullaby…
Ingwyn's shrieks as the labor progressed brought about a few curious individuals, all clearly concerned about the noise. Léofe sent each one scurrying by giving them her most fearsome scowl, and did not pause her singing as she rubbed the woman's back and shoulders.
Should a body meet a body
Coming through the rye,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry?
Should a body meet a body
Coming through the glen
Should a body kiss a body,
Need the world to know?
Should a body meet a body
Coming through the grain;
Should a body kiss a body,
The thing's a body's own.
Every lassie has her laddie,
None, they say, have I
Yet all the lads they smile on me,
When coming through the rye…
The contractions seemed to come closer together, and still Léofe sang on. Her throat grew hoarse, but she could not justify leaving Ingwyn to fetch water. Neither Alfrida nor Inge had returned.
The night wore on. The caves were growing warm; the torches and fires and the multitude of nervous bodies were causing the temperature to rise, and Léofe had to dab sweat from her face whenever Ingwyn's body went slack. And still she sang.
My young man wears a frown
With his eyes all closed and his head bowed down,
My young man never sleeps.
The rain it falls upon his back
The dust before his eyes is black,
Oft the times, oft the times my young man weeps.
A young girl no more am I
But I shall not weep and I will not cry,
For my young man needs me still.
If someone's watching up above
You'll see how much my dear I love,
So leave him here, I need him now and always will.
Oh if someone's watching up above
You'll see how much my dear I love,
And If he must go, let your best angels keep him well…
A shuddering boom shook the caves. Many cried out, and Léofe paused in her croaking, looking 'round with panic. What was happening? What on earth could have made such a noise? What could have shook the mountain so?
Ingwyn yelped beside her, the woman's own voice weak as well. Léofe felt a warm flood on her boots, and she looked down to see water dripping down Ingwyn's frock.
"Almost done, then," Léofe said, lacking the energy to sound encouraging. "You can make it to the end now; almost there…"
"No…" Ingwyn's voice was weak, and her shoulder were shaking as she began to weep. "I cannot! Not knowing the babe's father is probably lying dead as we speak…I cannot stop thinking of him!"
"Your husband defends the Deep?" Léofe asked, astonished. Somehow she had not connected this woman with a soldier fighting the invasion. A black shadow crept over her heart. Léofe knew that if were their roles reversed, she certainly would not wish to have a child with...with Théodred away. How could Ingwyn have made it this far? Léofe's eyes stung with tears, and her ears filled with Ingwyn's shriek as another contraction took her body.
"That—that song you sung," Ingwyn said in a trembling voice, when the contraction ended. "My ma sung it when my brother died as a child. Somehow I think I shall be singing it afore the day is out for my Deor! Oh, it is no use!" She wrenched her arm out of Léofe's stunned grasp. "We will all be dead anyway!"
"Stop such thoughts at once!" Léofe clung to Ingwyn's elbow as the woman sunk to the ground, from hopelessness or weakness. "There is no certainty that we will die—" Ingwyn barked a maniacal, cynical laughter then, and Léofe snarled. At last frustration was gripping her; how many hours had they been at this? "You gave this child life, miss, and you will be bringing it to the earth! You owe it that much, and Deor too! What would he say, if he saw you in such hysterics?"
Ingwyn's contorted face went still, and the dark, wet clumps of hair stood out against her clammy face. "He would say that if he wished hysterics, he would have married a younger woman," she said. "And so he should have! Then I would not be the one grieving tonight, and every night hence."
"Was life so miserable then, that you would erase it all to avoid the pain of your future?" Léofe's voice was rising as she gathered confidence, some spark in her heart heating her words. "You would relinquish all the joy you have had because you fear that you shan't have any more? How ridiculous!" Her voice choked, but she forced the next words through; if not for Ingwyn, then for herself. "It is foolish to deny love because it might be taken away," Léofe said slowly. "And...when it is gone, your heart ought to be filled with thanks for the happiness it did have, rather than grow bitter and shriveled that it ended."
Ingwyn, slumped on the floor, began to groan loudly, and renewed, Léofe clasped her hand tightly. "You can do this!" she cried. "Give life to the fruits of your love!" The woman's groan heightened to a scream, but Léofe dug in her heels. Then to her surprise, she saw Alfrida out of the corner of her eye, rushing towards them. The lady crouched down next to Ingwyn, asking in a loud voice,
"Do you need to push?"
Ingwyn's head nodded, though her eyes were squeezed shut. Alfrida began to direct Léofe. "Help her into a sitting position! There—hold her leg apart. Inge! Inge!"
The little girl had crept up behind Alfrida, looking pale and terrified. "Come help your ma," Alfrida said as she lifted Ingwyn's skirts. "Set down the kettle by me and hold her other leg!"
"You were delayed," Léofe said to Alfrida, who glanced up ruefully at her.
"I was waylaid," she explained. "Evidently there is no one else who knows the layout of the caves apart from me! Ingwyn, when your body contracts, again, push!"
"I know! I have done this four times before!" Ingwyn snapped. Her daughter let out a whimper. Léofe dearly hoped that this part would not last as long as the labor—she felt weary to her bones and she wished for a drink of water and glorious rest. But it was nothing compared to what Ingwyn might be feeling! The woman pushed, huffing her breath. Léofe suddenly heard several shouts echoing through the caves, and her head whipped up. Nothing in her sight seemed out of the ordinary, though she began to hear the clanging of weapons as well. She returned her attention to Alfrida, whose face betrayed nothing, but Léofe imagined a sense of terror lining the lady's eyes.
"You are doing fantastically," Alfrida said to Ingwyn, her voice gentle to the woman's sobbing. "I can see the babe's head; nearly there!"
Several minutes crawled by. Léofe alternated between massaging Ingwyn's leg, instructing Inge to do the same, and trying to ignore the clamoring cries which, to her relief, eventually died away. An unearthly and unnatural silence was surrounding them now, though it was soon broken by Ingwyn's final groans and a little wail which emanated from the small body which Alfrida was holding in her bloody hands.
"A boy!" she said. "Léofe, dampen the cloths I brought with the hot water; quickly now!"
Léofe did as she was told, and was then assigned to wash the babe while Alfrida helped Ingwyn to expel the afterbirth. Léofe sat, her legs outstretched, and stared at the tiny body that rested there. The boy was squirming, though he did not wail any longer. His arms and legs flailed around as his gaping mouth searched for food. Once more, tears threatened Léofe as she gently rubbed the warm cloth along his body, cleansing him of the fluids and mucus. She counted his fingers and toes (all there), and used a dry cloth to fluff his beautiful, soft hair. His blue blue eyes gazed up at her as she worked, completely trusting. Léofe was sure she had never felt so awed by anything before, even having birthed horses her entire life, and her heart ached as she gave the wrapped baby back to his mother, who was looking serene and enormously happy.
"He will be Deor, as his father," Ingwyn said, stroking the softness of his plump cheek. "As we hope he might remain safe and whole!" Inge had cuddled up to the side of her mother, and was gazing contentedly at her brother.
"Let us clean up," Alfrida murmured. "They are well off for now; I will return later to ensure that Ingwyn does not take ill. Léofe?"
Léofe was teetering, waves of exhaustion rolling over her body as a herd of horses. Alfrida caught her elbow before she stumbled.
"To bed with you!" Alfrida decided. "There are a few beds made up hereabout."
"But—" Léofe protested. "I must help clean—"
"I will do it! You are no use when you are nearly fainting from tiredness."
Léofe did welcome the sight of a small cot, and was under the thin blanket without any more protests, and she slipped into a dreamless sleep.