Greenwood Knight

Prologue part 2

Ten years ago...

In a few minutes Gwyndolyn would rise. But right now, she would remember her mother and her sister and their final moments on this earth.

"I know...I must say goodbye, my beauties."

"No. Please. You have been weak before. You will regain your strength in time. You just need rest."

"No, my love. I... I love you with all of my heart, but I must leave you. I must ask that you take care of them for me, my love."

"No. I cannot care for them alone. I need you, mother. We need you."

"I am so proud of you, my love. You are bright and gentle and you have a heart made of gold. But you are not weak or timid. I do not suppose that you can be with so many brothers." Mother sighed and closed her eyes for a moment as if gathering strength.

"I do love your father and your brothers, but between the five of them they do not have the sense that God granted to a mule. You must take care of them, my love. They need you."

"I cannot." Gwyndolyn was in denial, though she knew her mother spoke the truth. Mother was not long for this world, and from the way the babe struggled to breath, neither was she. "I am but a child still."

"You are seventeen and you are beautiful, and young, and a woman, my love. You have already been taking care of them these last two years, all during my weakness. You will be alright. You must be."

Gwyndolyn's eyes burned with tears that she struggled to hold back. It seemed that if she allowed herself to cry then she would be admitting that Mother was right...

And she could not do that. Not yet.

Mother smiled and lifted a weary arm toward Gwyndolyn and the babe. In a heartbeat, Gwyndolyn rose and carried the babe to the side of the bed where she knelt and held the baby close.

Mother had not the strength to hold the baby or to lift her head to kiss the downy soft hair. Mother only touched the tiny crown and gave a tearful smile to Gwyndolyn before she sighed and closed her eyes in eternal sleep. Just like that, Mother was gone.

The baby's raspy breath brought Gwyndolyn out of her sorrowful trance. Perhaps if she kept the babe warm, the babe would get better...Pulling the covers up over Mother, Gwyndolyn closed the door behind her as she shuffled numbly toward the hearth.

Father and all of her brothers were in the fields and would stay there until it was too dark to see. She was alone. If one of them came back early, she could send him for... There was no one to send for.

Settling to the floor, Gwyndolyn sighed. The old woman who was midwife in the nearest village died during the last winter. There was no daughter to pass the knowledge along to, so now there was no midwife. Life went on still. As ever it had. As ever it would...but without a midwife.

Gwyndolyn tried to remember all that her mother taught her. After all, she was the one to care for Robin. No, Robin was a robust babe, hearty and hale...and Mother was there to help...a lot.

Gwyndolyn was quite confident she could handle the baby care on her own: the bathing, feeding, swaddling and such. But she could not recall any remedies or healing potions for a sickly infant. There were breathing remedies, but she could not manage them on her own.

Gwyndolyn was reluctant to set the babe down for fear that it...that she...would die all alone...

That was all just too much and so Gwyndolyn curled up in front of the hearth with the babe in her arms. She cradled the child, crooned softly, hummed some, sang a little and prayed a lot.