Twice Upon a Soul

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Twice Upon a Soul Page 27

by Deborah R Stigall


  “Kaskin! What d’ye mean ‘tis gone wrong? She was well when I checked her this morning.” Quinlan rose from the bench, quickly pulling his cloak from the peg.

  Glancing nervously in Taylor’s direction, Kaskin wagged his shaggy gray brows as he nodded toward her. “The One could help her…make her feel safe. Then the little one would be born whole and well.”

  “Would ye come?” Quinlan held out his hand to Taylor, as he nodded toward the door.

  “Uh…yes…but what’s going on?” Taylor asked as she pulled her cloak about her.

  “It’s time for the Provider to give birth,” Magnus explained, his face grown serious, as he finished the last of the porridge in his bowl.

  “The Provider?” Mattie asked, rising from the table to join Taylor by the door.

  “No..no,” Kaskin muttered, shaking his head as he stood between Mattie and Taylor and Quinlan. “Only the One…only the Laird. The Provider fears all others. If anyone else nears at this time…the little one will surely die.”

  “Okay…calm down….I don’t want to harm the little one.” Mattie quickly returned to her seat in an attempt to calm the agitated sprite.

  “Just what kind of animal are we talking about here?” Taylor asked, following Quinlan out the door. Pulling the cloak tightly about her throat, she squinted against the icy blast of wind.

  “Come…Ye’ll see,” Quinlan shouted over the roar of the wind, wrapping his arm protectively about Taylor’s shoulders to lead her through the snow. Shielding her body as much as he could, they slowly worked their way down the shoveled path to the nearby stable. The same squatting stone structure Taylor had noticed her first time outside of the hall.

  Once inside, Quinlan and Kaskin quickly forced the double doors closed against the wind, instantly silencing the roaring outside, as they forced the latch into place. The inside of the stable was warm and humid, smoke from the peat fire in the corner hanging in the air. Animal smells mingled with the smoke, manure and freshly tossed hay. Taylor paused, pulling her cloak from her head as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior.

  “Quickly…please,” Kaskin urged them forward, quickly crossing the stone floor with his hitching gate.

  Taylor froze, her hand clenching Quinlan’s arm, as a low moan reached her ears. “What was that?” she whispered, clutching her cloak tighter about her shoulders.

  “’Tis all right, Taylor…she will not hurt ye. She’s the Provider.” Quinlan gently pressed his hand to the small of Taylor’s back, steering her toward a stall to the back of the room. Rounding the side of the shoulder high manger, Taylor’s mouth dropped open in amazement. “It’s…a….c-cow?” she stammered, clutching the supporting beam as she stared at the size of the great beast.

  “Not a cow,” Kaskin corrected, sniffing as though she had insulted him. “The cow…the Provider…provider to all of the valley.”

  The cow vaguely reminded Taylor of the lustrous black Angus breed raised in Kentucky. But this cow was the largest she’d ever seen, her eyes traveling slowly from its nose to its tail. “She’s as big as a school bus,” Taylor whispered, backing up cautiously as she spoke.

  As Taylor moved, the great black head slowly swiveled in her direction. As Taylor looked into the beast’s huge suffering eyes, she clutched her hand to her chest. “What’s wrong with her?” she asked, turning quickly to Kaskin.

  “The little one doesna’ wish to come.” Kaskin shook his head sadly, staring down at the cow’s heaving sides. “Please, ye must help her…help her bring forth the calf…lest they both shall die.”

  Shaking her head slowly, Taylor turned to Quinlan. “I don’t know anything about cows.”

  “Kaskin…leave us with the Provider. She senses the fear in yer heart.” Quinlan gently patted the worried sprite on his shoulder as he led him from the stall. “We’ll come for ye as soon as the little one arrives…go to the kitchen. Have Zelda feed ye.”

  Dismally shaking his head as he limped to the doorway, Kaskin donned his cloak as he opened the doors. Forcing the icy wind back outside, Quinlan quickly closed the doors behind him. Spreading his cloak on the floor of the stall, he held out his hand to Taylor.

  “Before ye can help her…I’d best explain. The Provider is not what ye’d call yer average cow.” Scratching the stubble of his unshaved face, Quinlan’s eyes narrowed as he carefully chose his words. “Once every fifty years, the Provider mates with the Great Red Bull of the North. When she finally calves, she provides enough milk to sustain all the valley until time for her next mating.”

  Sitting beside Quinlan on his cloak in the straw, Taylor stared first at the cow, then swiveled her gaze to Quinlan. “Fifty years of milk? You can’t be serious?” She shook her head in disbelief. “How old is she?” she asked, staring back at the cow, her mind reeling with what Quinlan was saying.

  “I dinna know,” Quinlan replied, shrugging his shoulders. “She’s been here longer then I.”

  “Well…” Taylor reasoned, shifting in the straw. “If she’s immortal…then she won’t die.”

  Shaking his head, Quinlan pursed his lips into a frown, as he laid his hand upon the cow’s sweat-soaked side. “I didna’ say she was immortal. I said she’d been here longer then I. This is the first time I’ve seen her in such distress. I wouldna’ wish to think what would happen to many in the valley if they had live without what this wee lass provides.”

  “Wee lass,” Taylor repeated, slowly crawling over to sit beside the cow’s head. Tilting her head to look into her eyes, Taylor’s heart went out to the poor creature. Hesitantly reaching out, she lay her hand on the cow’s forehead, gently rubbing the forelock between her eyes. Immediately, the cow’s breathing began to slow and her thrashing legs became still. Nudging Taylor’s knee with her great damp nose, she pressed her head into her lap. Softly stroking her neck, Taylor bent over the cow whispering reassuringly in her huge black ear.

  “How can we help her, Quinlan?” Taylor asked, looking up from the cow; her face stricken with concern.

  Smiling softly, Quinlan reached out to stroke the Provider’s sides. “I believe ye already have. She’s calmer now; more relaxed…that’ll help the little one as well. She’s resting now, ‘twill help her greatly when she needs her strength to push the calf into the world.”

  With her head in Taylor’s lap, the Great One finally slept, rousing briefly during her contractions.

  “This could take a while…are ye all right?” Quinlan asked, leaning back against the stable wall.

  Looking around the cozy interior of the stable, Taylor smiled at him in the flickering firelight. “I’m fine. I’ve never done anything like this before.” Grinning bashfully as she ducked her head, she spoke as she gently stroked the cow’s head. “I’m kind of anxious to see the baby. I’ve always thought little calves were cute.”

  With a grin, Quinlan nodded toward the cow’s huge sides, “Aye…he’ll be cute but none too little, I’m afraid.”

  They both fell silent in the warmth of the stable; each of them lost in their thoughts. Finally looking up to find Quinlan watching her closely, Taylor spoke softly as she looked into his eyes. “Tell me about us, Quinlan…what were we…like?”

  His eyes dropping to the piece of straw he twirled between his fingers, Quinlan swallowed hard as he tilted his head to one side. “We…were…very much…in love,” he whispered, struggling to speak the words.

  “Tell me,” she repeated; frowning in frustration over a long ago lifetime she couldn’t recall.

  “Ye were so frightened…so beautiful, the first time I saw ye; lashed to the sacrificial stone by the evil ones. Ye’d screamed yourself hoarse, rubbed your wrists bloody tryin’ to free yourself from the ones that had raised ye from a babe with only the intent of spillin’ your blood.” Quinlan’s face grew dark; his words coming faster, as the anger of her mistreatment quickly resurfaced. “I sent two of the bastards to the next life with m’sword; then freed ye and took ye to me castle.” />
  His voice growing quieter, Quinlan’s eyes grew misty as he stared back into the past. “Ye loved m’home along the banks of Loch Roag…said ‘twas the finest ye’d ever seen. I kept ye there and healed ye…we hid through the new moon. Ye said I was the kindest man ye’d ever known.”

  Taking the straw between his fingers, he snapped it, tossing it to the ground. “I knew that I loved ye the moment I saw ye. I took ye to a meadow over-looking the loch…I asked ye to be m’wife.” Reaching out to stroke the cow’s gently breathing body; Quinlan’s eyes suddenly grew troubled. “As ye said yes…that ye’d be m’own, the Druids appeared from beyond the hill. We ran to the stones to hide in the cairn…I knew the evil ones feared it.”

  Looking up from the floor, his head tilted to one side, Quinlan smiled sadly as he shrugged his shoulders. “The sunlight filled the cairn…then all was dark…until we awakened in this…place…in time.”

  Taylor was silent, mesmerized by Quinlan’s words, barely able to breathe. “Then what happened?” she whispered softly, reaching out to barely touch his arm.

  Placing his hand over hers, Quinlan held it gently as he smiled down at her ivory skin. Tracing the pale blue path of her veins, he hypnotically ran his fingers along the back of her hand. “Zelda found us…healed us…made us whole, and told ye of your ancestry.”

  “Ancestry?” Taylor repeated, staring down at her hand lost within Quinlan’s hypnotic tracings.

  “Ye are the last of the Ancient Ones, m’love. The last hope for this land…this plane of existence.” Quinlan raised her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against her upturned palm.

  “I…don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she felt his warm breath in her hand.

  Shaking his head as he cradled her hand to his heart, Quinlan frowned as he stared into the flames of the torch. “I’m no’ so sure I can explain it m’self…but Zelda knows all the history…she can tell ye what ye seek.”

  The Provider stirred her head in Taylor’s lap as a contraction rippled through her body. Soothing the animal through the pain, Taylor sensed it probably wouldn’t be too long now. Calming the animal, Taylor leaned back against the wall, shifting her stiffening legs into a more comfortable position. Hesitantly, she reached over, placing her hand back within Quinlan’s grasp as she whispered quietly, “Tell me the rest…did we live here together very long?”

  His lips tightening into a grim line, Quinlan took a deep breath before he continued. Eyes half closed as he watched the dancing flames, his voice dropped so low; Taylor could barely hear him. “No…we didna’ have much time together at all. Our happiness was verra short-lived. With Zelda’s family’s help, we built this stone croft where we are sitting.” Quinlan’s eyes roamed around the small stable as he spoke. “ ‘Twas small…but we knew we had the rest of our lives to build and grow across the hillside. The day after we finished sewing the thatch…the night of the full moon, we chose that day to take our vows…at midnight beneath the stars.”

  Quinlan shifted where he sat, moving closer to push an escaped curl from Taylor’s face. His face unsmiling, his eyes smoldering with memory, he barely caressed her cheek as he continued. “Our wedding night was…” he paused, searching for the words to describe the feelings roiling within his chest. Finally, he sighed as he dropped his hand, whispering, “ ‘Twas unforgettable…for me…”

  A tear escaped down Taylor’s cheek, startling her as it dropped to her lap. Quickly brushing it away with the back of her hand, she took a deep breath as she sadly shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring down at her hands. “I don’t…know why the memories aren’t there for me.”

  His dark brows knotting with concern, Quinlan shook his head fiercely as he took her hands between his own. “Taylor…I’m verra sorry. I didna’ mean to make ye cry. ‘Tis not your fault ye canna remember the past. The Furies tore ye away from me. The morning after our wedding…ye disappeared as ye lay sleeping in m’arms. When they found they’d wronged ye, discovered the deception of the evil ones…they stole your soul away from the judgement stone, scattering it among the stars.”

  Quinlan cradled Taylor’s face in his hands, his eyes troubled as he watched the misery in her face. “It took the Furies and the Goddess Brighid hundreds of years to heal ye…’tis a wonder ye made it here at all.”

  As Quinlan stared down into Taylor’s misty eyes, her lips barely parted as she turned her face up to his. Hesitantly, he slowly took her mouth with his; slightly trembling as he gently kissed her.

  With a groan, the Provider stirred her head, nudging Taylor, as she grew more uncomfortable. The delicate kiss interrupted, Quinlan laid his hand to the cow’s side; glancing up at Taylor with a quick nod. “The little one’s coming. Ye stay here at her head…whilst I make m’self useful at the other end.”

  Taylor nodded; her eyes round with uncertainty, wondering what to expect. She’d had all sorts of pets as a child, the usual assortment of dogs, cats and fish. But she’d never been around any sort of livestock…let alone attended the birthing of a calf.

  “Easy now,” Quinlan soothed the groaning animal. “The wee one is almost here.” With a whoosh, the calf was soon partially visible, as the Provider’s sides heaved with the strain.

  Stretching to peer over the cow’s bulging body, Taylor stared in open-mouthed wonder. “Is it okay?” she asked quietly, as she watched Quinlan ease the calf the rest of the way out. Grabbing a soft blanket torn into squares, Quinlan proceeded to rub down the calf.

  “Aye…he’s fine…a healthy young laddie,” Quinlan laughed as he worked the soft cloth over the glistening calf. Rubbing vigorously to stimulate his breathing and dry his coat, he smiled as the calf wobbled to his feet.

  “Uh…Quinlan,” Taylor raised her voice, pulling his attention from the blinking calf. “Something’s wrong with Mama here…I don’t think that she’s done.” Eyeing the cow’s sides as she spoke, Taylor struggled to sooth the exhausted animal.

  Placing both hands against the cow’s panting sides, finally laying his head against her and listening, Quinlan stared down at the cow in concern, as he moved back to his position in the rear.

  “Another one? I canna believe it…she’s never calved twins before..” His voice drifting off as he studied the cow, he stood still for a moment, patiently waiting. Shaking his head, Quinlan began unbuttoning his shirt, glancing up at Taylor as he spoke. “Something’s wrong…this one isna’ coming without a fight. Ye must hold her head while I help her.”

  Returning to her spot at the other end of the stall, Taylor scooted her legs beneath the cow’s head. Rubbing her ears, she spoke to her quietly as Quinlan tossed his shirt over the low-sided wall.

  Kneeling behind the straining bovine, Quinlan forced his long arm up inside her. Pausing as each crushing contraction came down, moving the tiny calf when the cow’s muscles relaxed. His cheek lying against her rump, his face dripping wet with sweat, Quinlan gradually worked the twin to a better position in the birth canal. Slowly pulling his arm, his muscles rippling in the torchlight, Quinlan’s hand finally emerged pulling two tiny hooves. Working with the mother during the next contraction, Quinlan firmly forced the snowy white calf into the light of the cozy stable.

  Rolling back on his heels, he stared at the still white body, shaking his head sadly. Raising his eyes to meet Taylor’s troubled gaze; he bit his lip as he raised his hands. “This little one ne’er had a chance. ‘Twas more then her little body could take.”

  Carefully sliding out from under the mother’s head, Taylor hurried over to the motionless calf. “Oh no…” she whispered over the tiny body, forlornly lying in the straw.

  Her lips pressing into a firm line of resolution, Taylor grabbed the remaining rubbing rags from the pile. Working over the snow-white body, she rubbed vigorously, pausing occasionally to pound on the little one’s side. Cupping her hands over the calf’s pink muzzle, Taylor blew hard into one side of the little one’s nose. Working f
or what seemed like forever, Taylor alternately pounded, rubbed and blew air into the soft pink nostril. Gently pulling Taylor back by the shoulders, Quinlan pressed his cheek to hers. “Let her go…’twas no’ meant to be….” He whispered into her hair.

  As Taylor sat back in the straw, exhausted with her fight for the little heifer’s life, she drew a trembling hand to the side of her face, a teardrop rolling down one cheek. “It’s not fair. She’s just a baby,” she mumbled, turning her face to Quinlan’s chest. Stroking her hair, Quinlan quietly rocked Taylor, shushing, as though she was a fretting child.

  The slightest of movements catching his eye, Quinlan grew still, his eyes narrowing, focusing on the tiny calf’s sides. “M’love…look!” he excitedly whispered, turning Taylor toward the faintly stirring calf.

  Sniffing, as she wiped the tears from her eyes, Taylor pointed as she hiccuped and laughed. “She’s alive! She’s breathing!” she cried, reaching out to lift the tiny body into her arms.

  Taking care not to step on either of her babies, the Provider slowly rose from the floor. Nudging the first of the twins to her side, she patiently washed him as he searched for her teat. Barely able to stand after crouching in the floor so long, Taylor struggled to her feet; the little white calf still cradled in her arms. She presented the baby to her mother, supporting her wobbly body as she tried to stand.

  Gently pushing the second calf toward her udder, the Provider turned to stare at Taylor as the little heifer stumbled to the floor. It was almost as though she were asking Taylor to help her baby eat, just as she’d taught the little one to breath.

  Standing over the baby, Taylor balanced the calf, guiding her to a full teat opposite her hungry brother. She stood patiently supporting the little calf’s body; her head leaned against the mother’s side. The little one finally took the teat in its mouth, suckling weakly but eventually succeeding in finding the nourishment it sought.

  Quinlan gently massaged Taylor’s back, as her muscles began knotting with the strain. “See if the little one can stand alone now…your poor back is roped with knots.” Kneading her shoulders with his hands, he steadied her as he worked down her back.

 

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