Page 27 of The Knucker King

She handed the baby to Emma so she could tug on her cloak and gloves. She hastily gathered her belongings, stuffing them into her medical satchel and strapping it across her body. Avice nodded and extended her arms to Emma. The woman pressed a kiss to her nephew’s head before relinquishing him to Avice.

“You will look after her?” the midwife asked, looking from Emma and nodding down at Matilda. “Start her lying in?”

“Absolutely, it certainly would not be the first time. Now please, do what you can for my nephew. May the Lord keep you.” Emma nodded and stepped over to her sister, who was already resolutely pushing herself up from the birthing chair with a sob. “Tilly!” she scolded. “Wait for me!”

Avice smiled wistfully at the sisters, the thrum of loneliness beating her heart for a moment. They had lost a son and a nephew, but they had each other, and of course, the six other children between them. The midwife tucked the baby under her cloak, hoping it would help him survive against the bitter cold. Avice turned to the door with a deep breath, threw it open, grit her teeth at the heartbreaking weeping behind her, and stepped into the early dawn.

12

Chapter 12

Trewoofe

Trewoofe had always considered himself a patient Knucker. It appeared that on the matter of Avice, the opposite was true. He waited, watched, and listened in the night. The Knucker finally ceased his pacing, and instead, lay on the frosted ground. To his surprise, the snappy, little familiar lay down next to him – close but not touching.

“Do you often wait for her like this?” Trewoofe asked, turning his snout to the Grim.

I spend most of my life waiting for her, Bramble huffed, not meeting his eye and steam rising from his nose. She serves the villagers with many medicines and treatments. Births are her most important service, and they take a long time in humans.

“Very different to my kind. Knuckers lay eggs,” Trewoofe said. “We males build nests, and the females will lay a small clutch. It is quite quick, but it will take her a while to recover.”

It seems as though the work is unfairly skewed. I am sure laying eggs is a lot of work, Bramble observed, face turned away. What else do Knucker males do?

Trewoofe’s tail twitched irritably at his question. “In Knucker culture, males are devoted to their soul-bound. We court her, bring her gifts, dance for her,” he explained. “If we are honoured and chosen by the female that we are a courting, we build her a nest and decorate it. We bring her food while she broods, and once the Knuckerlings hatch, we both take equal care of them.”

I—

Whatever the Grim was about to retort was interrupted by a young woman. She was thin as a branch and nearly blew away in the gale of the night.

“Hound? Are you out here?” she called. “The midwife asked if you could take me to Goodwife Emma’s home, so I can retrieve something, and then bring me back. Please?”

Bramble stood, moving across the barren ground in a blink to appear by the woman’s side. She jumped back with a gasp, her hand flying to mouth. Trewoofe watched, cocking his head curiously as the Grim yipped, disappearing into the night with the young woman following close behind.

Now alone, and while he waited for his little witch, he went to find the closest river. He easily cut through the woods like a fish through water, able to see in the complete darkness.

Spotting the frozen water, he carved his talons into the ice. Trewoofe gouged a hole wide enough to fit his body through and slipped in, unbothered by the frigid waters. He dove down, the gills behind his horns opening, allowing him to breathe underwater. He swam deeper until the midnight waters ran into his buried territory. He surfaced into a subterranean passageway and climbed onto the riverbank. He travelled further in and finally scented the healing waters of his Kingdom.

Trewoofe cast his gaze around, his tongue flicked at the air – it was cold and stale – the taste scratching his throat. It had been many turns of seasons since he had been in this abandoned tunnel, and none of his Faerie subjects seemed to be living here. The crystals that erupted from the rocky walls and ceiling were dull in their lustre but glowed more brightly as he padded past them.

He shook the leather bags free from his horns. Trewoofe used his forepaws to dip them into the lazily flowing river. The water shimmered and chimed as he submerged each bag, filling them to the brim. He pulled each up and deftly laced them closed with the very tips of his talons.

Avice will be happy. His tail swished excitedly. I will take these back to her cottage before I return to her escort her home.

He sat on his haunches. He lifted the now full water bags and hung them on his horns, making his head heavy. He flicked his tongue out again, scenting which direction would lead him back up and out of his Kingdom.

After dropping the brimming water bags at the door of Avice’s locked cottage, Trewoofe dutifully returned to his vigil outside of the labouring mother’s dwelling. Dawn was not far away, and he could feel the tiniest increase of temperature on his scales. The Knucker observed that the Grim had also returned to his watch while he had been gone.

Lord. Bramble lowered his nose to the ground.

“Familiar.”

Trewoofe settled next to the Grim, once again, close but not touching. He crossed his forepaws and rested his chin on top.

“King Trewoofe!”

The shout of Avice’s voice had the Knucker jolting awake.

“Oh, little witch!” he exclaimed with a wide yawn, tongue stretching far beyond the boundary of his fangs. “How goes the work?” Finally focusing on the midwife, her familiar stood diligently by her side. Trewoofe blinked in surprise at the obvious bump under her cloak. “Another?”