Page 114 of The Knucker King

She shifted there. “Goodwife Matilda.”

“Yes?” she replied, gripping her sister’s twitching fingers.

“You should still be lying in,” she chided, pulling back the blankets that covered Emma’s bloodied legs.

“Yes.” The woman dipped her head in agreement. “But I have recovered well, and I have had enough children of my own to be able to help Em.”

She turned up her patient’s skirt and was pleasantly surprised to find there was moss stuffed between her legs. It was soaked through with lochia and fresh red blood, which explained Emma’s half-conscious condition.

“Did you put this here?” Avice said, nodding down at the moss.

“I did.”

“Well done. It was enough to staunch the bleeding until I got here,” she complimented, beginning to peel it away.

Matilda smiled. “I remember that you have done that for me before.”

Avice exposed the injury between Emma’s legs. She had torn, worse than she had ever seen. She suspected it was due to the solid nature of her baby’s skull. While newborn’s heads were soft and pliable, Mary’s had not been. Avice quickly pressed the moss back to the bleeding wound.

She flicked her gaze back to Matilda. “I will try to get her to drink willow bark, and then I will have to sew her up. She will die if she continues bleeding like this.” Avice retrieved a cup and poured the willow bark powder and healing waters, stirring it into a slurry with her finger. “You will have to hold her down, as she may still feel it.”

Matilda nodded her agreement and moved behind her sister’s head with her hands ready to brace Emma’s shoulders. Avice knelt beside Emma. She pulled down her chin and opened her mouth. She tipped in the tincture and tilted her head back while rubbing her patient’s throat, forcing her to swallow. On some impulse, she placed a singing crystal on Emma’s belly, hoping that in combination with the healing waters and treatment, it would save her life – much like it had with Trewoofe.

Matilda had no reaction to its tune, only furrowing her forehead at Avice’s actions. The midwife wondered if – like the Good Neighbours – the crystals could only be heard by those who had the sight. She moved between her patient’s legs, brandishing a needle and thread.

Avice met Matilda’s face. “Ready?”

The woman tightened her grip on her sister’s shoulders. “Ready.”

43

Chapter 43

Trewoofe

Trewoofe galloped through the vibrant, viridian woods. One paw tucked to his chest, keeping the baby safe, and the other three moving him at a dizzying speed. He wished he could have stopped to linger in the fruits of his and Avice’s labours. After seeing nothing but barren frost for so long – except for at the top of his hill – it was like seeing Albion anew.

But Mary needed him, and Avice had given him the important task of saving her. His healing saliva had helped her breathing for now, but he knew she would need a permanent change to keep her alive and well.

So, save her he would.

He could not help his mind from wandering as he reached the base of Knucker Hill. He daydreamed of Avice’s lips on his, of her writhing against his hardened cock, of her excitement at the words he told her, and lastly, the image that always stayed the longest, her belly rounding with his Knuckerling. She had looked so perfect, the way she held Mary to her chest, and it made him purr at the thought of her doing that with their own offspring.

Mary grunted and wriggled in his paw. “Nearly there, little one,” he reassured as he loped his way up the slope.

Life had exploded across the hill. Swathes of daisies, lavender, and bluebells accentuated the soft grass under his paws. Rabbits bolted at his approach, as like all animals they could spot him even when he moved unseen by human eyes through the landscape. He reached the summit, and even his garden had increased in its richness. The moss and tiny flowers now tickled his belly, and the blossoming trees brushed their branches at the pinnacle of the protection ward.

He paused for a moment, dumbfounded. Had he and Avice done this? Was it their magic? Their passion? Was it – dare he think it – their love? He had never seen anything like the raw fecundity that now dominated the area. It pulsed with life, humming up through his paws from his snout to his tail tip. He rolled his coils, feeling a tingle down his long spine, before loping down the flagstone path to the entrance of his well.

The vines that grew around the stone arch opening had multiplied tenfold, each leaf bigger than his paws, and large violet flowers popped up in between the foliage. The dandelion offerings from Avice – back before the endless Winter – were huge, each flower bigger than her hands. They smelled delightful. He snuffed at them as he dashed passed and descended into his Kingdom.

Trewoofe’s nesting cavern reeked of Tall One: rancid flesh and rotting bone. He flicked his tongue in and out of his mouth, trying to rid himself of the foul taste. Clearly, the Faeries had been running rampant in his Kingdom in his absence, even daring to invade his private chamber.

He dug his talons into the earth as he stalked past his nest. It had been pilfered. The geodes embedded amongst the ancient branches had been ripped away. He had been so excited to show Avice his home, and now it was ruined. He suppressed a snarl, catching it in his throat, not wanting to wake Mary.

Trewoofe had taken this path through his cavern as it was the shortest way to Bucca-led, and now he was glad he did. He would be going directly to the Tall One’s territory after making sure Mary was safe. They had much to answer for, and at least one would be forfeiting his life for his crime against Avice.

Deep in the Underneath, Trewoofe emerged from the crystal-lined tunnel and out into the gargantuan cavern that held Bucca-led. The water was smoother than the inside of a shell, and the surface shimmered like jewels. The lake reflected the glitter of the dramatic dagger-shaped stalactites that hung from the looming ceiling. He approached the shore and flicked a crystal pebble with a talon tip. It sloshed into the water, disappearing with a plop. Air bubbled up, popping at the surface in honey tones, making his ears twitch at the pleasant sound.