The women surrounding the group formed a circle, clasping each other’s hands while they hummed a wordless tune, which reminded me of something Loreena McKennitt would sing.
“I see the head!”
The woman’s bulging belly relaxed for just an instant, then she drew an even deeper breath and bore down again.
After another round of concentrated pushing a wet, writhing form slipped from between her legs and was caught deftly by the waiting woman.
“Your daughter is born!” the matron cried.
And the other women caught up the cheer.
“Welcome, young one!”
I found my voice somewhere between my tears, and I echoed their joyous cry. Only occasionally can my presence be sensed when I’m on a spirit journey, so I was surprised and delighted when the new mother’s head snapped up in response to the sound of my ethereal voice. Her eyes glistened through tears of happiness and I felt the change in my spirit body that told me my hovering form had become visible to her.
“Epona’s Beloved has witnessed my daughter’s birth!” Her tired voice was rapturous.
The other women began laughing and clapping—some even started an impromptu dance, twirling and spinning with their hands painting intricate patterns in the air. I found their joy infectious, and as the women cleaned the newborn and the mother, I felt my spirit body moving in time to their song of new life.
And a thought struck me. The miracle of birth was and should always be a moment of empowerment for all women—as it had been in the scene below me. Perhaps this ancient world had lessons it could teach the modern one from which I came. C-sections and epidurals should be blessings to women, but I suddenly wondered if they had become a means from which to steal the magic of the power of birth away from a generation of mothers.
As this thought formed in my mind, I could feel my spirit body begin rising. The new mother’s head lifted from its resting place and she waved at my departing form.
My heart felt full and at peace as I floated contentedly back to the temple, and down through the ceiling of my bedchamber. As my spirit rejoined my body and I fell back into a deep sleep, Rest now, my Beloved, and know that I am always with you…whispered through my mind.
4
Morning peered a bit too intently through a gap in the thick drapes that covered the floor-to-ceiling windows leading to my private flower garden.
“Uhf,” I muttered, just about to pull the covers over my head when I noticed a movement and looked across the room to see Alanna and Victoria sitting on my chaise watching me with bright eyes and wide grins.
I blinked and rubbed my eyes, hoping they were figments of my not yet awakened imagination.
They did not disappear. Actually, their annoyingly wide grins became wider.
“What are you two doing?” I grumped, glaring at my guests and running my tongue over my lips. My mouth tasted like the bottom of a birdcage.
I am not a morning person. Never have been—never want to be. As a matter of fact, I am vaguely distrustful of people who bound out of bed early like demented puppies. It’s barbaric to wake up before 9:00 a.m.
“We are here to wish you joy at the blessed news of your daughter!” Alanna chirped.
“Yes, we tried to wait for you to awaken, but it is almost midmorning and we could not wait any longer!” Even Victoria’s lovely voice sounded shrill this morning. “And,” she added shyly, “I have some news I wanted to share with you.”
“You and Dougal are getting married,” I said as I reached for a long, silky nightshirt that lay across the bottom of the bed. I pulled it over my head in time to see Victoria’s startledsparrow expression.
“How…”
Sheepishly, I gave my standard answer, which covered everything. “Epona.”
“Ohhh,” the two of them said together, nodding their heads in unison.
“I think it’s wonderful, Vic. You two are going to be great for each other.” I winked at Alanna, who giggled in response as I added, “And it’ll be nice to see poor Dougal smile more often. He was one miserable centaur after you dumped him.”
It was hard to believe, but Victoria, Ms. Sure of Herself Huntress, actually blushed, which made her look shy and girl-like.
“I brought your tea, Rhea.” Alanna offered me a steaming mug of fragrant tea. I took it and perched on the chaise across from them.
“Thanks.” I blew at it and sipped.
“Your words forced me to listen,” the Huntress explained slowly. “I finally really listened to what he had been trying to get me to hear for quite some time. He does love me. Me.” Her face was radiant. “He does not wish I was younger. He does not want me to change and be a mate who stays close to his hearth. He understands that my position as Lead Huntress is, and will continue to be, my life.” The happiness that suffused her face made my breath catch. “He simply wants me.”
“Uh, Vic,” I said. “That’s what Alanna and I have been trying to tell you for ages. I guess I should have tossed my cookies on you sooner.”
This obviously reminded Alanna of the original purpose of their visit. “A daughter!” she shouted joyfully.
“A child! What a blessing,” Victoria chimed in.
“You two can quit grinning at me now. You’re making me nervous.”
Two quick knocks sounded against my door.
“Come in!” I commanded. Three silken-clad maidens rushed into the room, carrying trays laden with what looked suspiciously like breakfast. All three of them began gushing at once.
“Congratulations, my Lady!”
“We are so very pleased!”
“The news is joyous!”
When I had first arrived in this world the general populace had treated me like a person who should be revered and honored, literally placed on a pedestal. The people who were close to me and used to dealing with Rhiannon on a daily basis treated me like I was a live bomb. They handled me carefully, but acted as if they expected me to explode at any moment into a goddess-level tantrum. It had taken a lot of consistent effort to convince the people I came in contact with on a regular basis that I had changed (unfortunately, I couldn’t tell them I was literally a different person). Although it made me happy that over the past six months I had been able to coax my maidens into being at ease around me, this morning their familiar affection was making my head hurt. I felt dizzy as they milled around me, touching me reverentially after they set out my morning meal.
“Thanks, girls.” I tried to smile at them. “You may leave now.”
“Yes, my Lady!” They melted into graceful curtsies. As they scampered to the door, I heard one of them whisper to the other, “Our Lady is not a morning person.”
“They give me a headache,” I said after the door closed.
“They adore you,” Alanna corrected me.
“They still give me a headache,” I grumped.
“Eat something. It will improve your humor,” Alanna said.
“We hope,” Victoria added.
I wrinkled my nose at her, then shifted my gaze to the food. There was a lovely fresh-fruit salad, some bran muffins that looked like they were still warm from the oven, thin sliced bread that had been toasted to a golden brown, as well as another pot