Tara Runeweaver's Arc

Chapter 26 of 29

The wolf's quiet had barely settled the camp when a hard gust struck the tent. The flap tore loose from its tie and snapped open. Cold air poured across Tara's bare skin. The midwife cursed and pressed a hand to Tara's belly. "The babe will chill the moment it comes. Hold the cloth, girl, hold it." Tara reached for the warning post outside through the open flap and called Bjorn's name once. He did not leave his place, but he tore his own cloak free and threw it over the gap. He pinned the heavy wool against the leather pole with his shoulder, holding the wind out while still gripping the wood as she had asked. The midwife bent low and her hands went still. Her face changed. She reached fast for her worn pouch and drew out the iron scissors and the smooth whale-bone hook. "Two," she said. "There are two heartbeats, Tara. Twins." Tara laughed once, short and stunned, then cried out as the first child came. The midwife caught the babe in warm cloth and passed it to the fur-lined satchel laid open by the hearth stones. She turned back at once, hands wet, and lifted the carved stone basin closer to measure the herbs again for a second birth she had not planned. The second child came faster, smaller, fierce. Two cries rose together inside the tent. Outside, a clan woman ran to the iron bells on their weathered frame and struck them both. The doubled note rang across Cleavepeak, and the warband understood. Bjorn pressed his forehead against the warning pole and did not let go. The midwife laid both babes on Tara's chest. "A son and a daughter," she said. The wind still pulled at the cloak, but the cold no longer reached the children. Tara looked down at two small faces and knew the rune Bjorn had carved would have to be carved again, for a name that was never meant to be shared.