[The X Phial]

The sun was getting strong and Aldhelm had long before started on the grinding for the day when Maedlyn finally made it out of bed. She had been awake for hours, listening to the snoring of her husband and then watching him as he gulped down a cold breakfast and hurried to the mill. Before long she had heard the tell-tale creaking of the gears and rumble of the stones as they crushed grain into flour for the local farmers. The day after market was always a busy one. Work stacked up while the mill was idle.

Maedlyn was not a lazy woman by nature. In fact, watching her husband and daughter as they moved about the house, being unable to care for them, gnawed at her a bit. The midwife had made it clear, however, that she was only to get up from the bed when absolutely necessary. Fear for the child she could often, now, feel moving inside her kept the advice in her mind. She would not lose another baby, not if anything in her power could prevent it, and so she endured the nagging sense of uselessness.

Still, some things could not be ignored. She struggled to right herself and grimaced a bit when Lathyn silently moved to her side to help her to her feet. She was so proud of her daughter. Never much of a talker, the young girl had taken over most of the running of the household with never a complaint or whimper. She seemed to enjoy the work, to an extent, and smiled richly when she accomplished something well. She had help, of course, from some of the farmer's wives who sent food with their husbands when the grain was delivered. The wives themselves never visited, being far too busy in their own households, but the breads and simple meals were much appreciated by Maedlyn, at least, who hated to see her daughter work so hard.

On her way back from the privy, a trip she had been making far too often for her liking, she paused to feel the sunshine on her face. It was a fine day, and a good one for bearing a child. Maedlyn hoped her time would be soon. Not too, soon, however, because she still had a visitor to prepare for. It wasn't often that people from the city came to visit the mill. Aldhelm usually went there for business and, when in full health, Maedlyn sometimes accompanied him. She loved her life at the mill, but had been longing for more social contacts recently. Confinement had been difficult.

Lathyn had taken the opportunity of her absence to change the linens on the bed and Maedlyn was proud and thankful to have such a helpful daughter. She washed and tidied herself and her clothes, sighing at how tired she felt, and decided against going back to bed. She picked up her knitting, instead, and sat in one of the large and comfortable chairs in the kitchen where she could still be off her feet, but talk with Lathyn and be able to greet Bethberry when she arrived. Lathyn was humming as she started to mix a honey cake, her only real concession to her youth in the way she occassionally sampled the batter.

"Are you excited about our visitor, Lathyn, dear?" Maedlyn enquired.

"Oh yes! I love seeing Miss Bethberry when I go to market with Papa." She glanced back at her mother, as if realizing that her words might be contrued as a complaint. "Not that I mind staying here and taking care of you, Mama!"

"I know you miss going to the market, so do I. You're a good girl, and hopefully, when your new brother or sister gets here, you'll be able to go again. I know your papa sure appreciates your company. He's been jealous that I have kept you all to myelf for so long."

Lathyn smiled and began to hum again. When the batter was mixed she wiped her hands.

"It needs to set. Can I go and get some flowers for the table? The animals are taken care of and I think it would be so pretty for Miss Bethberry when she arrives."

"Of course, sweeting. Just be sure to leave some flowers for the bees," she winked back. Maedlyn smiled as her normally stoic little girl rushed out the door to gather some wildflowers for the house. She felt the beginings of an ache in her back and knew it wasn't just from sitting up. This was far too low. The ache was still faint, just a presage. Still, she was glad her new son or daughter was finally getting ready to meet her.