But in his heart, he already knew. There was nothing on earth more precious than the woman he held.
She was going to die.
Because of him.
It was all his fault. All of it.
He alone had brought the wrath of the Northern clan's gods down upon their heads.
There was no way to stop it. No way to keep her by his side.
The pain of it was more than he could bear. "I have offered up sacrifices to the Morrigan, but the Druids tell me it isn't enough. What more can I do?"
"Maybe this is the last. Maybe it will end now."
He hoped so. The alternative...
Nae, he couldn't lose his Nynia. Their gods could have anything but her...
Talon groaned as his dream shifted forward, into the future. He held his wife as she labored to bring their baby into the world.
They were both covered in sweat from the fire and hours of exertion. The midwife had opened a window and let in a cool breeze from the snow that was falling outside.
Nynia had always loved the snow, and the weather had given them both hope that maybe everything would work out. Maybe the baby would be a new chance for all of them.
"Push!" the woman ordered.
Nynia's fingernails bit into his arms as she gripped him and screamed. Talon placed his cheek to hers, holding her close and whispering into her ear. "I've got you, my love. I'll never let you go."
She groaned deep and then relaxed as their son rushed out from inside her, into the hands of the midwife.
Nynia laughed as he kissed her cheek and hugged her tight.
But their joy was cut short as the child refused to respond to the old woman's attempts to wake him.
"The babe is dead." The woman's words rang in his head.
"Nae!" he snarled. "He sleeps. Rouse him."
"Nae, my triath. The child is stillborn. I'm truly sorry."
Nynia wept in his arms. "I am so sorry, Speirr, that I couldn't give you your son. I didn't mean to fail you."
"You didn't fail me, Nyn. You could never fail me."
Horrified and heartbroken, Talon held Nynia close as the midwife washed and dressed their son's small body.
He couldn't take his gaze from the babe.
His son had ten tiny fingers, ten perfect toes. A mop of thick, black hair. His face was beautiful and serene. Perfect.
Why did the child not live?
Why did he not breathe?
Grinding his teeth to stave off the pain, Talon willed the child to wake. Silently demanded his son to cry out and live.
How could something so perfect not breathe? Why couldn't the baby move and squall?
He was their son.
Their precious babe.
There was no reason why the child should not be alive and well. No reason other than the fact that Talon was a fool.
He had killed his own son.
Tears welled in his eyes. How many times had he held his hand over Nynia's stomach and felt the strength of his son's movements? Felt the loving pride of a father?
They had marked the days to the baby's birth. Had shared their hopes and dreams for him.
And now he would never know the boy who had already won his heart. Never see the child smile or grow.
"I am so sorry, Speirr," Nynia murmured over and over again, weeping.
He tightened his arms around her and whispered words of comfort. He had to be strong for her. She needed him now.
Kissing her cheek, Talon forced his tears away and offered her solace. "It's all right, my love. We'll have more children." But in his heart, he knew the truth. The god Camulus would never permit a child of his to live, and Talon would never again put Nynia through this. He loved her too much.
He was still holding her an hour later when all the color had faded from her face. When the last of his hopes had shattered and left him bereft of anything except resounding agony.
Nynia was dying from blood loss.
The midwife had done all she could, but in the end she had left them alone to say their goodbyes.
Nynia was leaving him.
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't function.
She was dying.
Talon had picked Nynia up and cradled her against him. He was covered in her blood, but he didn't even notice. All he could think of was keeping her with him, making her well.
Live for me!
He willed his own life force into her body, but it wasn't enough;
Silently, he bargained with the gods to take anything else-his life, his lands, his people. Anything. Just leave him his heart. He needed it too much to lose it like this.
"I love you, Speirr," she whispered softly.
He choked.
"You can't leave me, Nyn," he whispered as she shivered in his arms. "I don't know what to do without you."
"You will take care of Ceara as you promised your mother." She swallowed as she traced his lips with her cold hand. "My brave Speirr. Always strong and giving. I shall wait for you on the other side until Bran brings us together again."
He closed his eyes as tears seeped past his control. "I can't live without you, Nyn. I can't."
"You must, Speirr. Our people need you. Ceara needs you."
"And I need you."