Silver Dew (7 page)

As we neared the young man’s home, the sounds of his mother’s agonized moans and cries began to reach my ears. I needed no further direction and marched ahead of him, striding up to the sturdy little hut with its finely woven roof. I pushed the door open without announcing myself, knowing it was not truly necessary. The shocked gasps as I entered the dimly lit room confirmed that I had been recognized.

I took the scene in quickly. Three young women knelt about the mother’s bed. They were all quite attractive and had long, dark, nearly black hair and bright blue eyes. The similarity between the sisters and their brother outside was obvious. Their mother looked to be even older than I had expected, streaks of silver twisted throughout her loose dark hair that stuck to her sweaty forehead. She had obviously once been an attractive woman but her face was now worn with exhaustion, her skin pale as death, her beautiful gray eyes clouded with fear and pain. Her swollen belly protruded beneath a coarse blanket, her arms and legs so thin and frail in comparison. I quickly took note of the pile of blood-stained rags nearby and the large dark stain on the dirt floor. I took a quick, steadying breath.

“Your son has brought me to help you.” I spoke only to the woman, watching her without displaying any emotion as her eyes tried to focus on my face. “I will do all I can but no matter what you may have heard, there are limits to my powers. I will try to save you.”

“And the babe?” she asked, her voice stronger than I had expected, her words carrying a clear confidence just like her son’s. “Please, save my baby.”

“I will try.”

I turned to the daughters then who all immediately dropped their eyes and shrank back from me in fear. I swallowed down my disgust at their reaction.

“Leave us,” I quietly instructed. They rushed, almost gratefully, from the small room.

“Who are you?” the woman asked in the silence that followed. She peered at me in disorientation, her eyes now focused on my face, her expression one of confusion and vague recognition. “You are familiar to me.”

I was about to answer that I was a Priestess from the temple, one of the most powerful ever known… but then, for some reason, I changed my mind.

“I was born in this village many years ago. My mother’s name was Liadan, and my name is Caoilinn.” It felt strange to say my given name out loud, so few people had ever heard it. The woman relaxed though and nodded slightly.

“I remember your mother, she was a good woman. I forgot she gave a babe up to the temple. Thank you for coming, Caoilinn.”

“It is my duty but I am glad I came,” I quietly answered surprised and a little unnerved by the sudden sense of kinship radiating out from the woman towards me.

I began working on the woman as fast and thoroughly as I was able to. I tried everything I could possibly think of, combining my natural skill and ability with my temple training in a way that I had never attempted before. I chanted and prayed, I blessed her, I performed spells and incantations, I drew designs over her body and belly, I strained with all of my power, with the whole essence of my being to save her. But no matter how strongly I wanted for her to survive, it was all to no avail. She was dying.

Eventually I sent for the midwife. I let the boy and his sisters know that we were about to deliver the child and that though it may survive, their mother would not live for long afterwards. It was the woman’s choice and they all accepted it. The young man was the only one brave enough to respond; he whispered his thanks through his tears.

It was not long after that I watched the midwife deliver the baby boy. It was the first birth I had ever witnessed and I found myself awed and nearly brought to tears by the beauty of it. I had seen many amazing and miraculous things in my young life but it was all nothing in comparison to this. As I saw the pure joy and love on the mother’s face as she took the small, crying babe into her arms, I realized how sheltered my life in the temple had been. My heart tore open even wider as I felt the loss of my own mother, my own family, my life. The pain hit me hard as I seemed to really feel it for the first time. But I had little time to wonder over this miracle of life that I had witnessed, now all of my energy and power had to be focused on the mother.

“I can only hold her here for a little while longer.” I forced the words out between my clenched teeth. The mother didn’t appear to hear me, completely at peace and captivated by her new baby, held weakly in her arms. The midwife reacted immediately.

“I’ll send the girls in to say their goodbyes,” she muttered, head down and shoulders hunched as she scuttled around me.

“No,” the mother immediately objected in that surprisingly clear and firm voice. “I know I don’t have long. Please, ask my Seamus to come.”

The midwife nodded in understanding and disappeared outside. Only seconds after the door had closed behind her it burst open again and Seamus, the dark-haired young man who had first brought me to his mother’s aid, reappeared. He rushed over to kneel before his mother’s bedside, his eyes barely taking in my presence or acknowledging me.

“My sweet Seamus. I want you to meet your brother, Gradaigh Mathuin. You must take Grady from me now for he grows too heavy for my arms to hold any longer. Please ask your sister, Emer, to care for him and raise him alongside her dear Braonan. She has enough milk for two,” the woman instructed, the strength behind her words rapidly fading.

Seamus nodded silently, carefully lifting the tiny baby from his mother’s arms and cradling him tenderly in his own. I looked away as I saw a single tear trickle down his cheek.

“I love you with my whole heart, Seamus. You’re so like your father – patient, strong, so kind. I only wish I had lived long enough to see you happy with a family of your own. I know she’ll be quite the woman, the one you eventually do choose,” she mused, sounding and appearing almost sleepy now. I could feel my control wavering. No matter how I wanted this woman to live, I could defy the wills of the Gods no longer. Tears of frustration filled my eyes.

“Tis time for me to go now. Leave us, sweet Caoilinn. I will forever be in gratitude for the gifts you have given me – my babe, this time to say goodbye, this peaceful tranquility absent of pain.”

I shook my head in denial, straining to speak while maintaining my flimsy concentration. “I can’t… I don’t want to give up,” I gasped. I was exhausted – both emotionally and physically, and unexpected tears began rolling down my cheeks. I told myself it was because I wasn’t used to failure, wasn’t used to appearing weak or flawed in front of others. My whole body began to tremble.

“It’s alright,” Seamus quietly reassured me. He met my gaze with his own tear-filled eyes. His expression was open and honest, accepting and peaceful – not a shred of resentment for my failing to save his mother. “Please, wait outside. It’s time.”

I slowly nodded. I rose from the small, rickety stool I had been perched on at the foot of his mother’s bed, smoothing my robes and attempting to regain my composure. Without looking back, I strode from the room, aware that with each step I took, his mother slipped away from the world of the living a little more. I heard her voice weakly whispering goodbyes into her son’s ear and I knew with an unquestionable certainty that she would be dead moments after I stepped out the door.

“She’s gone,” I told the three young women who waited outside. They gasped and inched away from me, wrapping their arms around one another as they consoled each other’s grief. I watched them comfort one another as I stood a few feet away from them, exhausted, drained and alone.

Several minutes later Seamus emerged from the hut with the new babe, Grady, sleeping peacefully in his arms. He walked around me and over to his sisters, murmuring words of reassurance to them all. He carefully passed the innocent babe over to his eldest sister and then kissed each of their cheeks and embraced them. The eldest disappeared, presumably taking the baby back to her home. The other two reentered the tent, tears streaking their cheeks as they avoided my gaze and hurried around me.

Seamus stood facing me, studying me silently, his face without expression. I stared back boldly, reexamining his attractive features. His cheeks, though dirtied, were young and fresh – his youth apparent as he was nearly of an age with myself. His black hair curled down and around his ears, nearly brushing the tops of his shoulders. His eyes were large and a dark, mysterious gray that at times hinted at a hidden blue tint; they were the exact same color as his mother’s I realized. His eyes, though dry now, were filled with such unspeakable pain that I felt the uncontrollable urge to say something that might offer him some comfort, however small.

“She was a very strong woman, another would not have lasted as long as she.”

Seamus nodded his agreement, his lips pressing together tightly as if he were holding something back.

“I told you that I might not be able to save her. I…” I hesitated, my voice unexpectedly wavering. A sob rose in my chest as I stared into his dark, beautiful eyes – eyes so filled with his loss and agony that I couldn’t help but share in his pain. “I tried to save her. Please believe me. I tried so hard… I…” Exhaustion swept over me and I collapsed to my knees. I quietly sobbed, my whole body trembling as I allowed myself to feel all the emotions that I had held back for so many years. In my exhaustion, I allowed myself to be the young, innocent girl of seventeen summers that I normally worked so hard to pretend I was not and I broke down and cried.

And then something truly shocking happened. My tears and sadness were enough that I did not hear or sense his approach until he was already kneeling right by my side. Before I could object or speak at all, Seamus took me into his arms. He held me tightly, the warmth and security of his embrace unfamiliar but so comforting that I was powerless to push him away. I tensed for a moment, so surprised by his closeness, by his boldness and audacity that my tears momentarily ceased. I hadn’t been touched by another or experienced this kind of physical closeness in so long… I didn’t know what to do.

“It will be fine,” he murmured, his words laden with such genuine kindness and reassurance that I was completely disarmed. And so I let him hold me and comfort me and I cried until my tears ran dry. And somehow, on a day when others should be comforting him for his loss, Seamus found himself kneeling on the dirty ground, comforting the most powerful Priestess in all the lands who sniveled and trembled before him.

My tears eventually stopped and I regained control of myself. I reluctantly pulled away from his embrace, only to find myself looking directly into his stunning eyes and for several long heartbeats of time, I was unable to look away.

“I should return to the temple,” I quietly announced, dropping my gaze to the dusty ground. The sun hung low on the horizon, my absence would be noticed soon if I did not return.

“I’ll send for a horse,” Seamus offered. He reached for my hand to help me up in a way that was so natural and easy, it really did seem that he didn’t have to think about it.

“No, that’s not necessary. I’ll walk.”

“But you’re exhausted.”

I didn’t reply. It was true but I wasn’t about to admit that I didn’t know how to ride a horse. I turned my back and began walking away from Seamus, unsure of what else to say, unsure of why I felt like I needed to say something else.

“I’ll walk with you then,” he stated from behind me and quickly reappeared by my side. I knew I should send him away but I couldn’t seem to find the strength.

We made our way back up the hill slowly and in silence. There was so much to think about but I truly was exhausted and had little energy left to think of anything other than placing one foot in front of the other. I even stumbled a couple of times, to which Seamus immediately reached out to steady me. He eventually looped my arm through his so that I might lean upon him more heavily. Once again, I could not find my voice to object – not that he ever asked.

When we neared the temple gates, our pace slowed even more. The reluctance I felt weighing down my heart and slowing my steps apparently (and for some inexplicable reason) affecting Seamus also. His footsteps came to a complete stop, pulling me to a halt with him before the entrance to the temple’s grounds where we had met just a few hours ago.

“What you did today… I will be eternally in your debt.” His expression was earnest, his eyes full of gratitude and thanks while still shadowed with the pain of his loss.

“It is my duty to serve the Gods and the people,” I answered.

He shook his head in objection. “It was more than that.”

“It was still not enough.” He didn’t respond. I started to turn away, feeling tired and sad once more.

“Caoilinn?” he gently called after me. I froze at the sound, surprised that he would call me by my name and not my title but even more shocked by the pleasure it caused for me to hear it said so from his lips. I glanced back over my shoulder, my heart beating strangely. He looked confused himself and spoke hesitantly. “May I… may I come to visit you one day?”

“No,” I answered immediately. His expression changed ever-so-slightly. The corners of his mouth turned down, disappointment darkened his eyes. “But perhaps I will come to you,” I finished, barely thinking before I spoke.

He smiled, the expression brightening his face and emphasizing his handsome features. I allowed a small, answering smile to grace my face in response.

“Goodbye, Seamus.”