Githa comes early

Theobald smiled tenderly at his wife, who had come waddling into the twilit barn.

“Am I making supper late?” he asked. “I thought I had time.”

Githa tried to smile back at him, but her lips trembled slightly.

“What is it, dear?” he asked gently. “Are the children wearing you out?”

“No, no,” she said in her soft voice. “They’ve been quiet today. It’s – oh, I couldn’t wait until dinner to see you.”

“I am honored by your visit, fair lady.”

“I couldn’t wait any longer. I couldn’t wait,” she repeated, her eyes filling with tears.

“What is it, Githa?” Theobald was genuinely worried. There was something she hadn’t told him.

“Theobald – I haven’t felt the baby move since yesterday morning or afternoon. I don’t know what to do. I couldn’t wait any longer.” The poor dear sounded both frightened and brave.

“Perhaps he’s only sleeping,” Theobald suggested. “And, you know, there isn’t much room left for him to move around in there.”

She shook her head. She knew.

“Do you want me to go for Mother Duna?”

She nodded. “Send a man for Mother Duna. And Colburga. You stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone any more.”