Join the authors at #MFRWHooks here http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com for some great excerpts Mine continues the birth of the Three foretold in ancient myths.
Return to the world where Midra and Midran rule. The god and goddess have two faces. Midra is Mistrees on the Moon and also Mistress of the Dark. Midran is Lord of light and Lord of shadows. Rons ago, the Three and Three rose, Seer, Warrior, Healer defeated the Lord of Shadows, though remnants of his worshipers remain. As generations pass in the four nomes of the land only a few remain to honor the Mistress. Once again the followers of Midran prevail, leaving trouble to roil beneath the surface. Prophecies abound and many point to change. Will the Three and Three come again?
In Nilos, Healwomen have become only midwives. Their hodara lies in ruins on the bank of the Nilos River in the city of Memphos. Only a few women come for training and remain in the city. Others serve in the highlands and on the desert. The Eldest, she who rules the midwives, sets upon a scheme fo bring the Three to life and to rule the nome.
What will happen when the Eldest sets her plan into action? Will there be just three women or will they find their opposites becoming the fabled Three and Three? Who will rule the changes to come?
In the tent, she stripped off the robe. Another pain began. No, no. She sank on the sleeping mat and pulled her leather pouch toward her. Was it too late to drink the tea that might stop the labor?
Besa knelt beside her. “What should I do?”
Cala tried to send her for hot water to make a tea but a sharp pain followed by a second brought a gasp. “This daughter refuses to wait. You must help me. You know what to do.”
“Basin. Hot water. Empty blue pouch in the water and wash your hands and clean the knife. Have one of the servants bring two mugs of hit water after my daughter arrives. Hurry.”
Besa departed. Cala found the oiled leather and covered her sleeping mat. The contractions continued. Soon Besa returned. She washed her hands and knelt between Cala’s bent knees.
The pain escalated. Cala screamed and bore down. Besa lifted the babe. A loud cry sounded.
“What?” Cala asked.
“Give her to me.” Cala gasped as another strong sensation gathered. As Besa placed the infant in Cala’s chest, she screamed.
“A second child,” Besa said.
“Two girls.” Triumph rang in her voice. She laughed. One for me and one for the Eldest.
“No. A girl and a boy.” The older woman chuckled. “You will be busy.”
As Besa handed her the boy babe, Cala pushed him away. "He’s not mine.” She had no desire or need to waste her milk and love on a boy. The tiny girl in her arms deserved all she could give. At the end of this lunar she would have to leave her child with the servants so she could greet the Eldest with the sad news.
“Your son,” Besa said.
“Take him into the desert. Expose him. I can only care for my daughter. Then bring me these teas.”
Besa left the tent. A stir outside made Cala tighten her hold on her daughter. The older serving woman brought the mug of tea. “What is happening?” Cala tensed. Had the Eldest somehow found her?
“The priest bought the boy. He gave me a god piece to pay for a nanny goat. He leaves tonight and you will never see them again.”