It is almost dawn from the look of the sky. It looks as if it is going to be one of those sunny but chilly days, you know the one's I mean where you look out of the window and the sun is shining, the colours are bright and rich and you step outside without a cloak and realise you have been tricked? I fear what this day may bring...an ominous aura surrounds me.
I am drinking tea, not something I'm accustomed to doing but it's warmth is welcoming and comforting after what occurred tonight and they say it settles the nerves, it is not however settling mine.
It has been some time since my blithering confession, the humility I feel returns whenever I relive that moment, the look on his face as he stared in utter disbelief. Well what is done is done, I doubt I can ever return even if I mustered the courage, his door would likely be bolted shut. It speaks volumes that he had also not knocked upon my door since, but what can I expect?
The Wardens arrow in my tree had at least distracted my thoughts for a while. If we are not in charge of our own destinies and our fates really are at the whims of these fate weavers, who meddle and stir the melting pot as they see fit, then mayhaps they looked kindly upon me in crossing my beautiful wardens path with mine again? After all, look at the chaos I cause when left to my own devices? But my mistakes are my own and I shall own them and not blame them upon the spinners.
Did the spinners intervene yet again this day? There is little doubt in my mind that they did indeed.
Freyda, a young mare I acquired recently and already with foal was nearing her time. She was early, all the familiar signs were there that she was foaling. I was on my own, Wil was visiting friends, Burle and Ned were both at a tea dance in Combe. I am more than capable of foaling a mare, but this night there were complications, I could tell by the colour of the birthing sack that something was awry and that the foal would suffocate if I did not drag her from her mother. I consider myself a strong woman, but the distress of one of my horses, in fact any horse is unbearable. Freyda was inexperienced and afraid and the truth of the matter is that I was too. I cut the bag but I did not have the strength nor the grip to pull the foal free and I yelled until I was hoarse into the darkness outside and this is where I believe it was fate that Seaver was riding home, the road taking him past my farm and he answered my distressed call.
Any awkwardness we might have felt since I had torn our friendship asunder would have to wait, for we are Eorling, horse lords and I thanked each and every god, the spinners...whomever else that they had sent Seaver my way that night. There was I, looking wretched, covered in blood, mud and all manner of other things, him in the finest quality clothes as ever, yet he discarded his outer robe, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and asked what he may do. All that could be seen where I had cut the birthing bag was the foals nose and fetlocks, we tethered the latter and Seaver had the strength to pull the foal free, but alas she had not been able to breathe the air for a long time and lay still amidst the blood and the birth water. I rubbed her sides vigorously with some hessian sack cloth but she would not draw a breath. There was only one other thing that I could do, an old method, I picked her up and then dropped her to the ground, once, twice, thrice and we were united in our joy for their was breath in her body and a beat within her heart, she was alive, Freyda's foal had survived against all odds.
I cannot find words to describe how I felt in the moments before I knew she was alive and the moments after for there are none capable of describing the panic, despair and elation, I still shake and in those moments my folly and all that had transpired between Seaver and I was matter-less for is there anything more precious than the bringing of a new life into this world? I think of each and every one of the lives of the babies I have failed to birth and in some small way my sorrow at my losses is dimmed a little by what happened this night, it may have been the fate weavers that entwined our lives again this night, but I think Seaver and I must take some of the credit for the outcome for we worked tirelessly.
I wonder what thoughts ran through his mind whilst we stood there and watched mother and foal after all that needed to be done was done and we awaited the foals first steps as nightfall grew deeper and deeper. Did he think of his own children? As the foal took her first steps, Seaver's own footsteps took him from the stable and back to the road and away from me again...
Before he departed he asked if he might call on me, I felt both a sense of dread and a sense of hope that we may salvage something of our friendship, a friendship that has lasted all these years. I am feeling the apprehension now as I wait for his knock upon my door, a knock I never expected to hear again and mayhaps his purpose for visiting is to tell me he will never knock upon my door again.
Drink your tea Neyaa Sunngifu...
