Give Her Grace
Chapter 3 of "A Shattering of Souls", book 4 of The Môrdreigiau Chronicles
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The story began in A Grail for Eidothea and continued with A River Trembles and A Sword for Wellington. It now concludes with A Shattering of Souls. New here? This is a Regency-set fantasy romance adventure with shapeshifting sea dragons, where our cast search for Arthurian treasures to save the world from ecological collapse. Save this post, go subscribe (you’ll get the first two seasons in an e-book) and then have a binge read of the rest. You deserve it.
A little reminder that sources will be listed in bold. There are dates included as well, as I have needed to go back and forth in time to pick up the threads of someone’s part in this story due to the fact that we have multiple journals in play this time around.
Jasper escapes drowning. Llyr wants Eidothea to escape with him to Caer Morgana and return to her long-neglected duties, but she fears for Jasper’s safety and the three of them make their way to Craiglyn House and, hopefully, sanctuary. Once there Lady Gwenddydd Devenish is brought to bed with her first child, and it’s not going well…
Eidothea’s Diary
7th May, 1816
Hours passed. I waited to hear from Llyr or Ondine—any sign that they were near. Gwenddydd continued to lose blood but she still fought to birth her child upon the blood-soaked sheets.
Several times, the midwife asked me to leave but I refused. I tried to heal Gwenddydd myself, to stop the bleeding but even the echo of Ondine’s gift through our bond proved inadequate. I told myself that her bleeding had slowed, but it hadn’t ceased.
:We’re here,: Llyr announced. :Cychwr is carrying her up to you.:
Of course. All my Chosen Court had been affected by Gwenddydd’s agony.
Not long after, the door burst open. Cychwr stood there, a pale-faced Ondine curled up in his arms. Both were utterly naked, having not even stopped to change.
He flinched at the bloody scene, but strode in, depositing Ondine on her feet by the bed. I glimpsed his swelling belly, at the life shifting within.
Ondine leaned forwards, both hands sinking into the mattress. “Thanks to the bond, I know exactly where to heal you,” she gasped out.
Gwenddydd managed a tremulous smile.
The midwife sputtered. “You…you aren’t wearing any clothes.”
“The situation is too urgent for niceties. I would only ruin them anyway.” Ondine scanned Gwenddydd, her hands bathed in a soft glow.
She straightened. “I’m not experienced with human births but I can heal the internal damage.” She fixed the midwife with a piercing gaze. “Will you help?”
The woman wrung her hands. “For the Lady’s sake, I must.”
I held onto Gwenddydd’s hand while Ondine worked her magic. Gwenddydd’s eyes fluttered shut, dozing between contractions. Her face had leached of all colour, her freckles standing out in bright counterpoint.
She groaned as another contraction hit. The corresponding sharp pain burst low in my abdomen. Ondine sucked in her breath, curling around the same spasm. Her hands extended over the lower rise of Gwenddydd’s swollen belly.
The midwife continued to massage Gwenddydd’s belly, trying to get the baby into position. Gwenddydd sobbed.
“Not there!” Ondine snapped a warning.
The contraction passed and the overwhelming pain we’d been experiencing sank into a dull ache.
:It’s mended,: Ondine thought to me. :But I do not know if it will hold. There will be… there will be a lot of blood when the baby comes.: Her dark eyes met mine. :Thank the Lady we don’t have to go through this.:
Gwenddydd pulled her hand out of my grasp. “Need … to get … up,” she panted.
The midwife checked. “The child is in position. Let’s get you onto the birthing stool.” She eyed the two of us. “You will need to hold her. She’s weak.”
The birthing stool stood beside the bed, but we made an agonising, slow, progress towards it. We lowered her onto the stool. The next contraction hit. Gwenddydd screamed, convulsing around her unborn child.
“I feel the head!” The midwife searched out and met Gwenddydd’s glassy-eyed stare. “The next pain, push hard.”
Gwenddydd’s head lolled onto my shoulder. “I cannot. I am … I’m going to faint.”
“Stay with us!” barked the midwife. Ondine bathed Gwenddydd with her healing gift.
:I could give her some of my grym bywd.:
My suggestion made Ondine blanch. :Absolutely not.:
Gwenddydd groaned and bore down, hanging onto us with a grim vise-like grip.
The baby slipped from her, into the midwife’s waiting hands. Its thin wail pieced the air.
“A girl!”
Gwenddydd sagged.
I focused on keeping her upright. Something warm penetrated my slippers. I looked down. Blood soaked the prepared linens and seeped into my skirts and shoes. That couldn’t be normal. “Lady, no! Don’t take her.”
:Hold her,: Ondine ordered. With the midwife distracted by the newborn, my Healer leapt into action. At length, she reported, :As I thought, it’s blood already lost.:
The afterbirth came out in another whoosh of blood. Between us Ondine and I somehow managed to get Gwenddydd back into the bed. I wriggled out of my gown and handed it to Ondine to wear. Blood marked the hem of my shift. I took a cloth and started cleaning Gwenddydd. She still bled but not terrifyingly so.
Meanwhile, the midwife examined Gwenddydd before ordering the servants in to clean up the floor and change the bed linens. They did so, wide-eyed and pale, sneaking glances at their young lady.
The midwife lay the swaddled baby in the crook of Gwenddydd’s arms. Both breathed, but neither stirred. The midwife tapped Ondine’s shoulder. “My work is done. Is there naught more you can do?”
Ondine shook her head, slumping in a nearby chair. “I stopped the bleeding but I cannot magic fresh blood into her veins. I will continue to work on her.”
“I could—” I started.
“No.” Ondine gentled her tone. “Both you and Llyr survived losing a lot of blood. I will tend to her.”
“Master Hugh?” the midwife asked. “Can I call him in now?”
Sir Hugh burst in, hair and eyes wild. The three of us stepped away, watching him gather Gwenddydd’s limp hand in his own, staring into her face and that of the sleeping baby. At last, he looked to the midwife. “My girls? They will be well?”
“Your daughter is fine. Just worn out by the labour. Your wife—” the midwife swallowed.
“—is in my care,” Ondine finished for her. “I will do everything in my power to bring her back to good health.”
His gaze lowered to Gwenddydd’s face. “She has always been so strong.”
“Her injury was near-fatal,” Ondine murmured. “A single blow can fell the strongest warrior. But she is still with us, Hugh. We’ll get her through this.”
“You’ll need a wet nurse while Her Ladyship recovers,” put in the midwife. “I can fetch one from the village.”
Hugh nodded. “Do that but don’t take her from her young family. They are welcome to come live here until my Gwen is well.” He raised Gwenddydd’s hand to his lips. “I will stay with her tonight. Go, rest.” His eyes still held a bleak expression. “Thank you for helping her.”
I moved toward the door, tugging a reluctant Ondine after me. :You need to change into proper clothing. Then you can return to her.:
My men waited in the hallway, alongside a clothed Cychwr, Father and his wife. Jasper embraced me, followed by Llyr. I leant into their strong embrace. Llyr pressed his lips to my forehead, while Jasper buried his nose into my sweat-dampened hair.
His hands moved down, hot through my thin linen shift. “Let’s get you to bed.”
I sighed. “Ondine needs—”
Cychwr, now dressed, had already steered her down the hall.
“Her trunk is in the chamber Hugh prepared for them,” Llyr told me. “Cychwr has it in hand. Bed for you.”
Father halted our departure with a word. “Gwenddydd?”
I rested my head against Llyr’s shoulder. “She’s in Ondine’s and the Lady’s hands now.”
Mrs. Pendyr dabbed at her eyes. “May the Goddess give her grace.” Father delivered a sharp, sorrowful nod.
I let Jasper and Llyr bear me away. I stood, unresisting while they removed my shift and washed the drying blood from my hands and legs. I stumbled into bed, both Llyr and Jasper joining me without bothering to fully undress.
I hung onto Gwenddydd’s presence in my bond, sending her all my hopes and commands to recover, shielding her from the depth of my concern. Nestled between Llyr and Jasper, I dared hope that my Sword would survive.
Their love blanketed me.
Hugh’s Journal
9th May, 1816
No ghost bothers me, and that worries me more than Gwen’s listlessness. Olwen and the other ghosts hover around her, their faces pinched and worried. None of them say a word to me.
“She’s lost a lot of blood,” Ondine reminded me, unaware of the silent collection of souls surrounding her. “She’ll recover but she needs rest. Any exertion is too much.”
Gwen is awake at least. Two days of seeing her so still, surrounded by ghosts, almost undid me.
10th May, 1816
Mrs. Tregallas has taken her leave, finally persuaded by her Llyr. I am grateful Ondine and Mr. Tregallas remain. Gwen lacks the patience for rest. She needs all of us to distract her.
Jasper’s Journal
10th May, 1816
I hate it when Eidothea leaves me for Caer Morgana. I cannot fight or beg her to stay for she has her duties to her people. She is my Queen too.
She also has my heart. Simply, I miss her. Without her, my days are empty. Even though we do not plan to stay at Craiglyn House but to find our own home, in her absence I have unpacked books from my father’s collection to continue my research into the Fisher King and the Spear.
During the times Lady Devenish feeds her daughter, I accompany Hugh in pacing the portrait gallery. At one point, he twitched and started speaking but stopped short after two words, shaking his head. His Waterloo wounds must be far worse than any of us thought. I’ll ask Ondine to check on him before she leaves.
Ondine is pleased about Gwenddydd’s slow progression back to health. She has hinted she too may soon return to Caer Morgana. There her pregnant lover waits.
15th May, 1816
Ondine left today for Caer Morgana. The Devenishes are bound up in their roles as new parents. I fear my presence rather annoys Mr. Pendyr, but I have unpacked another handful of books.
These line by line examinations of the old Welsh and French romances may not elicit anything—but I will not let my brother steal my place as Eidothea’s Fisher King. I will speak to Llyr about this when he returns with her to see if the Goddess has spoken to him. In the meantime, there’s no harm in doing a little research.
I sealed my letter to the head librarian at the Arenberg Library near Brussels.
Fear blazed down the Chosen Court bond. Absolute terror.
I shot to my feet, my letter fluttering to the floor along with other papers. My own panic surged, trying to determine who was in danger. I grabbed my crutch and scrambled out of my bedchamber.
Again, I wished I could communicate via thought like the dreigiau môr.
Halfway down the stairs, I realised the panic did not come from my beloved. Her panic loomed through the bond, but I also sensed her longing to reassure me.
Breathing unsteadily, I reached through the bond, unraveling the threads that made up the Chosen Court. Llyr—angry, shocked, determined and scared. Gwenddydd—confused and surprised. Ondine…Ondine’s thread held nothing but terror.
“What has happened?” Above, Gwenddydd leaned over the balustrade, looking down. “What is this that I feel?” Hugh stood beside her, keeping her upright.
“The bond,” I bit out. “Ondine is in trouble.”
Pain lanced through my skull. Gwenddydd’s cry echoed my own. My good leg gave out and I collapsed on the stairs.
Then—the agony and fear vanished. I strained to sense along the bond. I felt Ondine’s presence but weakly.
“I’m going to the cove,” I told the Devenishes. “Please, rest, and I will bring back word when I have it.”
Lady Devenish grimaced, her knuckles white.
Sir Hugh coaxed her away.
I hauled myself up and set out.
Don’t forget to read the latest entry in the Upon Our Seas, In Our Skies compendium, Ryan Kunz’ “Death on the Empyrean”.
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From one near-tragedy to another!