Livingstone Saga, Book One: Birth

by Janell Rhiannon

  “Entonces, what harm is there? If he has taken to stone.”

  “Even I do not know what a gargoyle experiences while transformed to stone. It is best you do not distract him from his duty. Whatever that may be.”

  “But—” Iseo argued.

  “There is nothing further to discuss. Do you not understand, Iseo?”

  “If your words have further purpose, then speak them plainly.”

  “You are bound to him as his Maker. He can feel your true heart. You cannot hide from him. It is his nature to know the human heart. It is how he can reach inside a soul, clutch the demon, and not bring harm to the possessed.”

  “Why did you keep this from me, when you taught me the mystery of the livingstone?”

  “I did not think it would matter.”

  “It matters. A great deal! You have bound to me to something that I should not be feeling. You have bound me to a sin.”

  “Makers have always been men. You were...unexpected.”

  “What am I to do now?”

  “How so now?

  “I love him, Father. I love him with all my heart and soul. He knows it. He knows.” Iseo wept into her hands. Hopelessness filled her. She would have to live with this forever.

  “You must ask the Lord to deliver you of these feelings. You will destroy him if you do not.”

  “How will I destroy him?”

  “Because, he returns your love, Iseo.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “He has described his pain to me. I know it for what it is. I, too, loved once. There is only one chance to save you both. If you are delivered from this love, his love will diminish as well. Do you not understand? The greater your love for him, the deeper you pull him to his own destruction. You are human. Weak. You will give in to love. It is the nature of us to do so. Fight it, Iseo, pray for deliverance. If you give in to loving him, he will follow you.”

  “May the Lord help us both, for I am already lost. I am lost, Father.”

  “Pray child. Ask so that it may be given you. For now, it is best you think only of the task at hand. Help him save the souls of our town.”

  “Sí, Father. I will do my best.”

  “Your escort awaits.” He kissed the top of her head. “Peace be with you.” Iseo dried her eyes and straightened her shoulders. She would focus on the task at hand. Celestino’s mission depended on her. She would not fail him.

  As soon as Iseo walked out the door, Father Tomas went to his desk and took out a sheet of parchment, opened his ink well, and picked up a sharp-tipped quill. He drafted a letter to Iseo’s father, telling him it was time to retrieve his daughter from the church’s keeping. He wrote that marriage and family were God’s calling for her, and that whatever his fatherly conviction was regarding his daughter, it was time to see it through.

  Father Tomas could not risk her remaining in close proximity to Celestino. It was dangerous for them both. He did not tell her that gargoyles are forbidden from loving because it weakens them. Gargoyle’s hearts are powerful instruments meant for exorcism. Father Tomas knew that she would be helpless to resist his pull. Celestino would not be able to resist her innocent affection. He did not tell her she had already become a target of the underworld. The Lord of Hell desired all gargoyles for his own army, because he was incapable of creating anything. Satan and Lucifer recruited, lured, turned good to evil purpose, wherever they could, but they could not create life. God alone commanded that domain.

  Chapter 16

  The Midwife’s Stone

  “What purpose do you have to apprentice as a midwife?” Madia asked Iseo.

  “Until my father requires me, I hope to become useful among women in the village,” Iseo answered.

  “How long have you been at Compostela? I have not seen you about before now.”

  “Two years this Christmas Eve.”

  “Your father sent you rather late into the care of the church. That is odd, is it not? Unless there was another reason…,” the widow mused aloud, more to herself than to Iseo.

  Iseo took the meaning perfectly. “My reputation was intact, señora. My father sent me to live with the nuns after my mother died. He intended to take no other wife. His grief was deep, he said. He deemed it wise to keep his only child protected...and unspoiled.”

  “He was a wise man, keeping your best interests close to heart.”

  “I do not think it was so much for my benefit. Rather for his.”

  Madia understood the apprehension behind Iseo’s thoughts. Marriage was an eternal bond the female had no control over, always at the mercy of her father’s choices. “Do not let your fear of marriage cloud your thinking. Men blame women for being sinful creatures, but in all my years on this earth, it is not the women begging for lustful ventures.”

  “I am thankful I have been spared that experience,” Iseo said.

  Madia smiled and patted the young woman’s arm. “For now. You will not be long at Compostela once your father lays eyes on you again.”

  “What do you mean?” The woman’s words alarmed her. It flashed in her mind for the first time that she could truly be separated from Celestino forever.

  “My child, is there no polished glass at Compostela? No clear window to catch your reflection? One look at you and your father will realize what an asset you are. You will not be unmarried for long, if I had to wager on it.”

  “I find little comfort in that,” Iseo quipped. What she wanted to say was, I do not want to marry anyone if I cannot have Celestino. But that would never be an option, so it was best to push the very inkling of the idea as deep as she could, bury it into the deepest recesses of her mind.

  “Someday, child, you will not be so adamant about being alone. But, for now, let the lusts of men upon other women be your concern.” Madia stood up from the stool she sat on and motioned for Iseo to follow her. The main room was no wider than ten steps, so Iseo crossed the space in two blinks of her eyes. The elder woman opened a small door. “It is not much space, but it will serve your purpose presently. Privacy is a luxury on this end of town.”

  Iseo ducked slightly to enter the small chamber. There was a small cot with hand woven coverlets, a small hearth, and a tiny slip of light serving as the only window. She had not truly appreciated her accommodations at Compostela until this very moment. “I am grateful for your hospitality on my behalf. I know Father Antony’s request was rather sudden.” She set her trunk along the wall opposite her bed.

  “I am sure you will earn your keep.”

  “When will I begin my apprenticeship?”

  Madia laughed at Iseo’s innocent question. “When some poor child comes knocking at the door hollering for a midwife for their mother or sister.”

  “When will that happen?”

  “There is always a child coming into the world,” she huffed, and put her hands on her hips. “Men’s desires keep midwives busy.”

  Iseo settled into her small chamber. Pulling her overdress off, she crawled into her cot. The blankets were soft and heavy. She noted that Madia was a skilled weaver. A down-stuffed pillow felt like heaven. She felt exhausted, and soon her eyes grew heavy and the swim of sleep washed over her body.

  A loud crash startled her. “Iseo!” She blinked but everything remained blurry. “Iseo! Get up!” Sitting bolt upright, she recognized Madia’s voice. Hearing the urgency it dawned on her...a child must be coming! She threw her legs over the side of her cot so fast the room swam for a moment.

  “I am up, mi señora!” she answered.

  “Get dressed quickly. The mother is young and thin as a rail,” Madia explained. “She will suffer more than most.”

  When Iseo entered the kitchen, Madia was already waiting at the door with a basket on her hip. “Hurry mija. We have no time to waste.” Together, they walked quickly in the cold darkness of early morning. Iseo’s ears ached from the cold and her chest burned from their pace. Stumbling on a small rock, Iseo landed hard on her knee. Madia turned arou
nd. “Keep up. I have no use for a lame helper.” Her tone reminded Iseo of Father Antony. At this moment, she missed the warmth of the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around her waist and pushed forward.

  It seemed an eternity before they arrived at a small cottage where a few men sat outside drinking in front of a small fire. They all nodded their heads. “She is in there with her sister,” one man said.

  “Are you the father?” Madia asked the youngest man. He looked barely old enough to grow a beard, let alone father a child.

  “I am,” he answered proudly.

  “Entonces, say a prayer or two for your wife while you fill your belly with ale,” the midwife directed. “She will need them.” Iseo could see the young father’s eyes grow large with the warning.

  Inside, the kitchen had been transformed into a lying-in room. It was the largest room, and the only room with a hearth to heat water and keep the chill from the air. A bed had been moved to the center of the room, the floor was swept clean and fresh rushes had already been spread across the floor. A stack of clean linen sat in a basket just waiting to be used as swaddling cloth for the newborn and to clean and care for the mother.

  A woman with long dark hair pulled up messily behind her head, with a few wispy tendrils escaping the fasteners, turned to greet them. “Gracías, Madia, for coming so quickly. You know the concern.” She nodded to the young woman lying in the bed, who seemed to be sleeping.

  Madia took the side of the bed opposite the dark haired woman and sat on the edge. She gently stroked the young woman’s face. “How long has she been laboring?”

  “Most of the day. She refused to lie and rest, hoping the work would bring the babe quicker.”

  “Luisa, it is Madia. Can you hear me, mija?”

  Luisa opened her eyes and smiled weakly. “I am glad you are here. I am so tired.”

  “I am going to feel for the child. It will be uncomfortable, but you are strong enough to bear it,” Madia reassured her. The midwife pulled the coverlet down and Iseo’s gaze fell on the large mound of belly beneath the thin veil of a night dress. She had never seen a pregnant woman’s bare stomach before. The sight frightened and fascinated her. It suddenly pressed on her how enormous the responsibility was to help a woman bring a child into the world.

  Madia laid her hands on Luisa’s stomach, pressing and moving her belly like she was kneading bread at the table. Madia nodded, but said nothing. She stood up and reached for her basket. She drew out a sun-bleached apron and pulled it over her head. “Iseo, fill that basin with warm water.” Iseo did as she was told while Madia washed her hands vigorously, then wiped them on her fresh apron. She sat back on the edge of the bed, this time closer to Luisa’s feet. “Luisa, I need to feel for the child’s head. Iseo, hold her leg down. Sofia, you hold the other. I do not want a kick in the head.”

  During the procedure, Luisa cried out in pain. The room became stifling hot, and Iseo wiped sweat from her brow with the crook of her elbow. Iseo’s knees buckled and she swayed against the bed. Closing her eyes, she steadied herself. She thought of her conversation with Celestino about procreation. No, I definitely have no desire to procreate. Luisa’s babe had not yet arrived, and already the experience of childbirth made her feel faint.

  When Madia finished examining the mother, she washed her hands in the basin again. “Iseo, empty the water and refill the basin with fresh, hot water.” Again, Iseo obeyed.

  “Well?” asked Sofia. “Has the babe turned? Are the feet yet beneath the babe?”

  Madia’s serious face answered the question. “The babe is making its way feet first...with one little foot already stepping into the world.”

  Sofia’s eyes filled with tears. “Are you certain?”

  “There is no doubt,” Madia announced.

  “Dear, sweet, Blessed Mother. Shall we call a priest?”

  “For what purpose?” Madia asked.

  “What is wrong?!” Luisa cried. “Is it the babe? Holy Mother, I have to push it out!”

  “No! Do not push until I tell you.” Madia patted Luisa’s hand reassuringly. “I have no intention of losing this child. It is breech, and I must turn it around. If you push now, you will kill it...and possibly yourself.”

  Luisa’s eyes grew as round as two full moons. “Will it hurt?” she sobbed.

  “Not as much as the hurt of losing the babe. Luisa, you need to be strong to bear the pain. There is no other way to save you both.” Iseo admired the way Madia spoke to the young woman. “I must push the babe’s foot back inside the womb, and turn it around so he can enter the world head first.”

  Luisa began sobbing, “I have to push!” Then screaming, “Help me! I cannot stop it!”

  Madia commanded, “Get my vile of flaxseed oil, Iseo! Now!”

  Iseo flew to the basket. She pulled linens out and found the vials at the bottom. “Which one? Which one?!” Iseo asked. Luisa screamed again. Sofia tried to comfort her younger sister with a cool cloth against her forehead. Luisa grabbed Sofia’s arm and squeezed with all her might.

  “The one with the blue ribbon!” Madia answered. “Hurry up!” Iseo fumbled through the contents and found it. She rushed to hand it over to the midwife.

  Madia opened it and poured a generous amount into her palm, rubbing it all around her hand and over her wrist. She then began the task of pushing the babe against the womb’s tide.

  “No! No! No!” Luisa screamed at Madia. “It is too late. I can feel the babe coming! Do not touch me!”

  “If I do not put that babe back to begin anew, you will both die!” Madia hollered at the hysterical, laboring Luisa.

  Luisa’s cries alternated between sobs and screams, as Madia worked carefully to shift the unborn child into a safe position. Iseo stood ready to take any further commands, while Sofia whispered encouraging words into Luisa’s ear. Luisa panted for breath. Sweat drenched her body. Finally, Madia announced success, “Luisa, my dear, when you feel the need to push this babe to the light, push hard. Push with all your might.” The midwife turned to Iseo. “Get the rose oil from my things. It has a black ribbon. Rub the oil into Luisa’s thighs to help encourage the birth, and ease her pain. Sofia, is there vinegar in this house?”

  “Sí. Sí, there is,” she answered quickly.

  “Bueno, fetch it. Pour a small measure into a cup and mix with the sugar I brought. Make her drink it. Fetch also the sard stone.” Sofia brought the concoction to Luisa and held the cup to her lips. Iseo watched as Madia held the reddish stone over Luisa’s stomach and chanted what sounded like prayer in a foreign tongue.

  “Just a small sip. We want to ease her suffering, not cause her stomach to lose its contents,” Madia warned. Within moments, the young mother calmed and focused on bringing the child into the light. “That is it, mija. Breath and push this child out.” Luisa inhaled deeply and pushed until her limbs shook. Iseo watched in awe as the child’s head appeared. “Come on push this child out, Luisa!” Urgency speared through Madia’s words.

  “I cannot. I am so tired,” Luisa said, as she let her head fall back onto the pillow. “So tired.”

  “Your task is not complete, mija, you must push again. Unless you wish me to reach and pull the babe myself,” Madia threatened.

  “No! No,” Luisa cried. “I will push...I will...I will.”

  Sofia encouraged her younger sister, “Come, sweet little sister. You can bring this babe to light quickly. Do as the midwife suggests. Push! Push!” Luisa sat up, inhaled, and bore down as hard as she could. A single scream escaped her lips, just as the child slithered into the waiting hands of Madia. Luisa fell back onto the birthing bed, utterly exhausted. The babe was an awful shade of blue. Iseo watched as Madia quickly cleared the mouth of the newborn.

  “Why is there no crying?” Sofia asked. She stepped around the bed and caught a glimpse of the child and gasped. “Holy Mother of Jesus!”

  “What is wrong?” Luisa panicked. “What is wrong with my child?”

 
Madia held the child upside down and rubbed its back and chest so vigorously Iseo thought she might injure it. Iseo sent up a silent prayer, Sweet Mother, por favor save this child! Por favor. And as if God had answered her prayer specifically, the child squalled. Iseo’s eyes welled with thankful tears and she smiled. Madia then used a sharp knife to cut the lifecord yet tethering mother to child. She handed the severed piece of slippery rope to her apprentice. “Throw this in the fire.” Iseo did as requested. The umbilical cord spat and sizzled and shriveled in the cleansing flames. Then, Madia tied a thin string around the section of life cord that remained protruding from the newborn’s belly and handed the child to her new apprentice. “Never cut the cord too short. Wash him off.”

  Iseo took the child in her arms...he was so tiny and noisy. And covered in sangre and birth. She carefully cradled him in the crook of her arm as she lowered his legs into the basin of warm water. He stopped crying momentarily. She took a corner of a towel and dipped it in the water and began washing the babe clean. Iseo thought how different this birth was compared to the birth of a gargoyle. And yet, both were truly miracles. When the babe was cleansed, she wrapped him in a clean, sun-bleached blanket and presented him to his mother.

  “Gracías,” Luisa said, as she kissed her son on the head. “I have been waiting to see you, little one.” Iseo marveled at how the hours of suffering melted from the room right before her eyes.

  Madia finished cleaning up the afterbirth and attending to the new mother. “Perhaps it is prudent to baptize the child now. He struggled into the world. Let us make certain he travels safely to Heaven, if something should go ill.”

  “Sí. Sí. By all means,” Luisa agreed.

  Iseo riveted her attention on the midwife. Her heart pounded. Warnings clanged in her head. It cannot be Madia...She stood horrified. Madia pulled a bottle of clear liquid from her basket. “Holy water, blessed at Compostela,” the midwife said. She handed Luisa a stone. “Hold this piece of jasper over the child. It will ward off evil.” Then, she anointed the child with the water, intoned God, the Son and Holy Spirit. Iseo watched as the happy young mother held her child and prayed that Celestino and Father Tomas were wrong about the midwives’ stones.