"Magnus!" She flicked her eyes up to meet his, ready to give him a piece of her mind. His eyes were bright with restrained laughter. He was teasing her, and she did not know what to make of it. "I am just being an obedient wife. You said you wanted me to get larger, so here you have me."

He bent down, ran his hand over her stomach and kissed it. "That is big enough, my sons. Time to come out and meet your sire." He turned his attention back to her and smiled. It was a different kind of smile, and his jaw was clenched, his eyes blazing with a fire she had not seen in months. Oh, how she had missed this look.

"I never agreed to give you two sons," Lida said. "I still think a daughter might scare you straight. Wait until your girl holds a sword and then we will have this conversation again."

"My daughters will hold swords, and a bow, and learn to throw a blade. My daughters will be unmatched and have no need of a man to defend them."

"Your daughters, as in more than one?"

He shrugged. "I had no idea of the usefulness of daughters before I spent time with Katia."

"Usefulness?"

"Aye, they are beautiful, they smell good, they are soft, they bring you joy, they teach you new tongues, they organize your quills in interesting new ways, they warm your knee, they are funny, they make your steward seem less dull, they are beautiful . . ."

"You said that one already." There was a painful lump in her throat and Lida wanted to cry, but she forced herself to smile instead. "Did Katia tell you all those reasons herself?"

"A few, but a few are of my own. More like her would be good, wife. After you birth these two, I will be glad for more." He kissed her, cupping her cheek, holding her firmly in place, then kissing her more deeply. His muffled growl caused her to squirm. He wanted her . . . and she needed him to want her.

"I want to go back upstairs, Magnus," she panted.

"I better send Tero to take you up. I will tear that gown off you if I go with you."

She giggled, "Why must you tear it? I like this one." She stood before him, offering him her hand, and offering him more with her eyes.

Magnus followed at Lida's snail's pace back up to her chamber. He helped her into bed, and she pulled his arm around her as he settled in behind her.

"I think they are both sons some days and then both daughters the next. I cannot wait to meet them," she mumbled, the pull of sleep taking her under.

His lips pressing against her neck, he whispered, "Neither can I, Lida."

For a brother that hid himself away for years at a time, Hk was proving most reliable as of late. The old Sami tribeswoman that he had brought to Lida was small with narrow black eyes and a rope of white hair.

His brother translated as the woman moved her hand over his wife's stomach.

"She says that the babes are in a good position."

"Hk, tell her my wishes, if things go wrong," Lida said. "Tell her what I want her to do." She smiled meekly to reassure the two men.

"She knows, Lida," Hk answered softly.

"Tell her anyway. I want to see her face when you say it," she said, her words stronger now.

"Wife," Magnus said, "the woman is wise. Leave her to her duty."

"Magnus, you can wait outside. Please see to Katia's lessons; I am busy in here." She turned away from him, back to his brother. "Tell her, Hk."

As his brother spoke Lida's instructions, the old woman looked directly into his wife's eyes. She never changed her expression, but slowly moved across the chamber to her rolled bundle of sealskin. She returned to his wife and raised a thin blade with a whalebone handle.

"She has done this before. On women and horses," his brother said quietly.

His wife closed her eyes, nodding, and repeated the words "thank you" in Sami.

Magnus turned away, working to control the murderous rage building inside him at the thought of his wife being gutted.

Lida's back pain abruptly grew worse and she moaned softly. She rose and began to limp around her chamber, holding his arm. Unannounced, water gushed out of her and onto the floor.

"Kiss me, Magnus," she said calmly. He did. "Now leave. I do not wish to see your angry face every time I clench in pain. Go, and keep Katia occupied. Ask her to write a list of all the names she knows. We will need two."

"Katia will not be naming my sons."

"Of course she won't. I will be. But it will give you both something to do. This will take a long while." She arched her back. "You can go too, Hk. Seija and I will be fine."

Dismissed like an ineffective boor in his own house! Magnus was about to tell her nay, he was staying, but his brother wrapped an arm around his shoulder and said, "Arguing with her will do you more harm than good, brother. I must say, being here to see you put in line by a woman was worth the long hike." Hk laughed, dragging Magnus away down the corridor.

Taking deep breaths, Magnus walked the perimeter of his battlement. The early summer rainstorm had picked up strength, brightening the fields with a crisp emerald green.

He returned inside the fortress to find three dejected souls sitting at the head table-four, if you counted Lika.

"Layla, Beau, Bell, Hanna, Sissi, Rose, and Flora." Katia beamed with pride.

Magnus shook his head and groaned.

"Kukka and Mia." Hk beamed with equal pride.

"I will have daughters next year. Start again," he ordered, and the table groaned in unison.

Magnus paced before the head table. Katia had given up on boy names. She said they were not fun or pretty-sounding, so she drew instead.

After the evening meal, Magnus could no longer be satisfied with reports from Brita. He stole into his wife's chamber, where he found the window coverings removed, offering the scent of fresh rain. The Sami woman stroked his wife's temple with a cloth while humming a hypnotic tune and Brita and Rakel watched over the proceedings protectively. Lida lay on her side, her eyes closed as the midwife rubbed circles on her back. His wife was taking deep, long breaths, almost appearing to be in some sort of trance.

The midwife nodded to him and moved from her position. She took Magnus's hand and placed it on Lida's lower back. He began to rub in small circles.

Not opening her eyes, Lida said, "What big hands you have, Seija."

Terrified to the core, Magnus asked, "Are you-"

"Shhh, stay. Do not speak, Magnus. My pain is great. I must center." Her face crunched and seized in agony, a sharp hissing sound coming through her clenched teeth. She blew out slowly and said, "Your hand feels good-press harder."

Three more hissed breaths from his wife and the midwife apparently decided it was time. She raised the white nightgown, spread his wife's legs, and placed her hand to Lida's contracting stomach. His wife made very little noise, moaning and breathing hard. Five muted, grunting pushes later, she cried out a guttural scream.

"What is it? Let me have him." Lida's hands reached between her legs for the wet, slippery form. The midwife wiped the babe's face, and placed him, slimy cord and all, on his wife's chest. Bloody ooze smeared across her white gown.

"Magnus, he is perfect." The babe cried but quieted quickly, staring up at his wife. "Oh, he is beautiful. Is he not just the most perfect babe ever born?" She cooed and kissed the blood-smeared little head, rambling on and on about how beautiful the squished-up, purple complexion of their son was. "Rot it . . ." His wife's head tossed back. "Do not just tower over me. Do something!" she shouted at him. Why was she talking to him? She should speak to the midwife.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Take your son, you bleeding idiot. Sack of . . . Ohhhh, why is it so soon? Get me some water to drink, Magnus. I can barely . . . you rotten, foul-breathed-" His wife was seemingly possessed with the spirit of three different people all at the same time.

In his hands there was suddenly a slime-covered, squawking babe. Magnus held him out in front of him, not wanting the bloody mess to get on his clothes.

"Brita!" his wife screamed. "Get a blanket for my son before my good-for-nothing husband drops him on the floor. I swear, Magnus, if you drop my child I will drop you-Oh, why is the pain worse already, Seiji? Magnus, next time I will have a midwife that speaks my tongue-Apologies, Seiji. I did not mean that-'tis just so frustrating." The old woman smiled and nodded. "Again, so soon, but I . . . we are not having more children. This is it. Two is enough. Greedy bastard." She clamped her mouth shut and bore down. The soft humming noises from before were replaced with an angrier snarl.

The midwife smiled her toothless grin and held up a blood-covered, purple mass. Magnus held back the vomit that rose. "What is that?"

"Jarl, that is the afterbirth. 'Tis normal," said Rakel calmly. Magnus had almost forgotten that the maids were in the room.

"Oh," he said, relieved.

"Oh! What did you think it was?" his wife said, panting.

"This is my first birth, wife. How am I too know?"

"You have been out to the stable when a colt is birthed, or a litter of pups, surely." She flopped back onto the pillows as Brita mopped her brow. "May I see him?" she asked, smiling at the maid.

"He is very large, Lida," Rakel said. "As large as Ragna's last birth, or larger."

His wife went quiet and closed her eyes. She breathed strangely and went back into her hypnotic trance once more. The old woman continued to massage his wife's stomach and side, humming and chanting a tribal tune.

Long stretches of time passed, the only sounds his wife's muffled moans.

"Why is it taking so long?" She rocked her head back and forth. "What is wrong, Seija? What are you not telling me?" she cried. The midwife nodded, appearing relaxed.

If the old woman was not worried, Magnus breathed and decided he would not be.

"Fear not. All will be well," he said to his wife.

"Fear! You think I am afraid? Why, you weasel, I am not afraid. I am being ripped in half . . . Oh, for the love of all that is holy and good, get this child out of me. Now!"

The old woman continued to nod like she was watching an evening dance performed in perfect time.

"You trollop-loving, blockhead of a two-faced mule. 'Tis all your fault." Lida let out her held breath, quickly refilling her lungs and pushing again. "All will be well. Ha! Does this look well to you?" She took in another breath and pushed.

"Is that a foot?" Magnus asked. This was not good. Panic consumed him and he swayed. He knew enough to know that this was the wrong way for a babe to come out. He knew that babes sometimes died inside the mother and could be removed so that the woman could live. He had his one living, healthy, screaming son. If she continued to insist on saving the unborn child and sacrificing her life, could he stand by and allow that to happen?

Sweat from his brow ran into his eye.

Chapter 22.

The old woman forced her small hand inside his wife.

"AHH! Get my babe out safe. Now!" his wife raged, making the sounds of an attacking bear.

The old woman lured the babe's second leg out. The red, bloody, slippery mess spilled out onto the bed.

A cry erupted out of the twitching, slimy babe. He had had a strong vocal and bodily resemblance to a wet seabird. Magnus's tiny offspring had the lungs the size of giant-he was shouting the foundation of his fortress to the ground.

"He's out, Lida. He's out." Magnus stood beside Lida, patting her sweaty head, not knowing if any other part of her body was safe to touch. The midwife wiped the babe's face once and placed him onto his wife's chest.

"Oh, they are here," she said. "They are both here. Where is my son? Where is he?" Clutching the latest slippery babe to her chest, she twisted her head until Brita came around the bed with their quieter son and held him close. "Oh, they are just gorgeous. Are they not the most beautiful, perfect creatures you have ever seen, Magnus? Oh, look how big they are. I thought for certain they would be small, but look at them. So long, and those cheeks, so sweet, and . . . what the devil are you doing down there, Seija?" His wife's head snapped back onto the pillow, her face twisting, seizing in pain. "Take the babe, Magnus. Take your child before I-"

"What is happening to her?" He looked to the two maids.

"Simply the second after birth, my jarl," Brita said.

"Simply! Easy for you to say." His wife cursed at the devil himself.

Magnus held out the second smooth, pink babe. His wet hair would surely be as bright gold as his mother's when it dried. Rakel draped a cloth around the babe, bundling him up tight.

"Do we have two sons or one of each?" His wife smiled at him for a brief moment, then turned her attention to the midwife. "Truly! Are you about done? Mother of mercy!" She flopped back and let out another calming breath.

"I did not see the sex in all the milky slime," he answered his wife.

"Milky slime? Did you think birthing a babe was as clean as selecting a rug at the market? This was your idea, Jarl. I never asked you to be in this chamber." She let out another loud, annoyed breath, closed her eyes, and fell back into the pillows. She breathed deeply several times. When she reopened her eyes, she was no longer possessed. "Please, Brita, may I hold him?" She pulled her soiled linen shift down and put their child to her breast. She rubbed her nipple to the babe's lips.

"Magnus, can I hold whoever it is you have too?"

He passed her the second babe and she offered him the second breast, both babes soon tucked under her arms like large loafs of bread.

Magnus dropped to his knees, his head at the edge of the bed. He was not one for praying, but he owed a few prayers to the gods for this one. He might as well make himself useful down here anyway-his legs no longer had the strength to stand.

"Two sons." His wife sighed. "I should have known you would get your way," she whispered. He leaned over her and crushed his mouth to hers.

"Katia will be disappointed. We will have to try again for a girl," he said.

"You filthy dog. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?" she said, smiling.

"You appeared uncomfortable, but it was worth the entertainment to hear your vocabulary of foul words." He kissed her again. He may get up and dance. This is what euphoria feels like.

"Do not tell Katia I cursed. She will use it against me as an excuse to talk like her uncles. We must stick together. Trust me, we have just become out numbered."

Magnus held both bundled sons in his arms as Seija bathed his wife and helped her dress. He then carried her across the corridor, to his bed. It was a place from which she had been absent, yet it was where she belonged and where he would forever secure her. She closed her eyes and, a moment later, was asleep.

"I shall take you both on a tour and show you your new home," he said to the blue-eyed babes. They did nothing but stare, opening and closing their mouths. How could a creature so small be so enthralling?

Half of Tronscar was crowded on the stairwell. He passed the screamer, babe number two, to Hk, and bent down to pick up Katia.