Chapter 70: Arddwn

It had taken five years for Feywn to bear the fruit of her union with Rhedwyn, but within three months from the night Caelym first entered her private chambers, the chief priestess’s belly was swelling.

Nine months to the day after Caelym swore his vows as her consort, she was in active labor.

Lunedd’s announcement at breakfast that Feywn had entered the shrine’s newly renovated birthing room had confirmed what they’d all suspected when neither Feywn nor Rhonnon nor Aolfe nor any priestess who might assist with birthings had been at the Sacred Sunrise Ritual. Already jittery, Caelym had dashed out of the main hall, only to come stamping back, tearing at his hair and decrying the injustice that Rhonnon had declared him too emotional to be allowed into the birthing chamber “or even in its courtyard!”

Now, with no patients in the healing chamber to keep him occupied and no hope of his mustering the concentration to rehearse even the simplest ode for that night’s oration, he was all but wearing ruts into the classroom’s stone floor as he paced from one end of the chamber to the other, alternating between reciting random lines of poetry and muttering supplications to the entire pantheon of known gods and goddesses (excepting, of course, the disreputable Christian one).

Herrwn had knots in his own stomach and was carrying on his superficial conversation with Olyrrwd to keep his memories of Lothwen and Caelendra at bay.

Olyrrwd seemed to understand. He answered Herrwn’s irrelevant questions as though they were about vital matters, slipping in bits of lighthearted japery to pass the time even though laughing invariably set off his racking cough. He was still gagging and hacking from his most recent witticism when there was a rap on the classroom doors.

Caelym rushed to jerk them open just as Blodwen, Feywn’s chambermaid, was raising her hand to knock a second time. Apparently accustomed to Caelym’s vivacity, she brought her palms together in the courteous gesture of a servant about to speak to a high priest and began, “Priestess Rhonnon calls you to—”

Since Caelym was halfway down the hall before she could complete her message, Blodwen turned to Herrwn and Olyrrwd and finished, “come to the courtyard beside the birthing chamber, as she has an announcement to make.”

It took Olyrrwd several moments to finish clearing his airway, and Herrwn wasn’t about to leave without him, so the courtyard was packed by the time they got there.

There was no sign of Caelym, but as they made their way through the crowd Herrwn caught sight of Rhonnon, her apron damp and tinged with blood, standing in front of the closed birthing chamber door and looking impatiently in their direction, tapping her right foot.

“That’s a good sign,” Olyrrwd muttered reassuringly as they took their places in the front row of priests. “If it were bad news, she wouldn’t be in a hurry to give it.”

“Shhh!” Ossiam hissed. “Our chief midwife is about to speak!”

Giving Ossiam a cool nod, Rhonnon began to recite the formulaic announcement that they hadn’t heard in the twelve years since Arianna’s birth. She had just reached the all-important ninth stanza—the part where the gender and name of the newborn were announced—when the door behind her opened and Caelym stepped through, holding a baby-shaped bundle.

“It’s a boy! His name is Arddwn!” His voice was soft and awed as he repeated, “Arddwn!”