It takes no time at all for Saoirse to realize that it was, in fact, Moss to whom she was speaking. That she was married to Feargus, and that they had no children. What a disappointment it was for the poor lass. And Feargus likely away at war leaving the poor woman all alone. With no one to tend to her, to protect her. Suddenly, a great smile comes across Saiorse’s face

“Dear Auntie Saoirse, what are you thinking?" Moss’s question is tainted with nervousness, as she squeezes the older woman’s arm.

Saiorse looks at the healer, analyzing her features, the slight crow’s feet at the sides of her eyes—she sees a white hair on the younger woman’s temple, crying out to be seen against the otherwise dark hair. “Tha’ lowly scoundrel hain’t gotten ye with child, an undoubtedly he’s off t’battle fer the clan. He’s a real piece o’ copper tha’ Feargus, t’leave ya like this wi’ no one to look after ya, an’ no chil’ in yer womb.”

Moss started nodding, but was soon to shaking her head with Saoirse’s words. “No, Auntie Freedom, it’s…”

The boulder of Saoirse’s determination had already begun its descent down the hill, and there was no interrupting her now. “C’mon then, it’s time me self was up an’ out of this place.” Something about Moss’s very presence there was causing a surge of vital energy into Saoirse’s old frame. “Y’know, fer a healer, ye should know somethin’ about the herbs t’keep yer man at home long enough t’give ye his seed. Time w’ found ‘im. The Clan can do wit’out his sword him fer a few months…an’ by the looks of ye, there’s no great amount of time left afore yer womb dries up.”

Saoirse was standing by this time, and her memory felt immediately refreshed—she even remembered the young girl’s name who had been tending to her. “Braca! Find me me ol’ clothes, me brat an’ me…” Suddenly, it felt as if a sword had been impaled into her abdomen, as the familiar and ongoing pain rushed over her, creating a rush of blood from her face and causing her to crumple onto her pallet.

“Damnation and Manuan’s balls!” she cried out in frustration. “Healer!” she screamed, as Braca approached. There were tears in the old woman’s eyes as she held her hand toward the child to stop her. “No, it’s experience me want. Moss, surely ye’ve brought something fer this evil malady?”