Maggie had lost her match at the tourney Marche-Limousin and therefore decided to travel ahead to make preparations for the up-coming tourney in Touraine. She bid a very fond farewell to her husband as he was still in the lists and could not accompany her, but she did have Breci in tow. Dugan had headed out for Touraine as soon as Brian had arrived at Marche and re-claimed his bride.

A message had been sent to Dugan as soon as Maggie had received word from her Queen that money had been made available to finance the endeavor and she was sure that he would have much underway. She was not disappointed.

However, before she could even begin going over the preparations, Dugan insisted upon a tour of the shire house. It was truly lovely and he already had a full staff installed in anticipation of the crowds that would come to attend. To this end, he inquired about numbers.

"In her loving graciousness, our Queen bade me invite one and all to the tourney, to celebrate this glorious time of year. Any willing to pariticpate will be welcome, be well feted and housed. Not to mention given the opportunity to cover themselvels with glory in the lists."

As she went about preparing for the tourney, Maggie was made constantly aware of the child she carried and there was much consternation when she had announced that she was going to participate. Nevertheless, she would have her way and her clothing and armor were adjusted to make allowances for her ever increasing middle.

When the lists were finally announced, she groaned inwardly as she realized she had been matched against her Queen. It did not bode well for her changes of advancing in the lists. However, in the end it was for the best. Fully aware of Maggie's condition, the Queen, while giving no quarter, did avoid any blows that might injure Maggie or the babe.

The melee was another matter, but Maggie did not allow the fact that she was great with child dictate her aggressive attacks and, much to her surprise, found herself to be the last one standing. She did much credit to her beloved husband for he had engaged the opponent before she had and although exhausted and bested by the man, Maggie felt he caused some exhaustion in their opponent as well.

Her thrill and celebration in her win was cut short with a pain that rippled up her back. At first she was not alarmed and went along to the tent she was sharing with her husband to speak with Breci, telling her she was in need of a balm for a spasming muscle. A short while later, when the next pain came Breci, who had a great deal of experience in such matters, knew it was no spasm caused from exertions upon the field and went off in haste to fetch the mid-wife. After an examination, she did pronounce that Maggie’s time was at hand. Brian entered the tent at this juncture and left just as quickly.

When he next arrived, their carriage was at the tent door and he scooped his wife up and into the coach and made for the manor house. There, in a flurry of activity, she found herself ensconced in her bedchamber with the mid-wife and a bevy of maids, her husband and Dugan consigned to the sitting room with a decanter of fine French brandy.

Long into the night the ordeal continued, but near the rosy breaking of dawn, there was a squall of a child and shortly Brian was allowed into the room. Propped up in clean bedclothes, a tired but very happy Maggie introduced her husband to his newest daughter. "Brian, she is so perfect!" Maggie revealed a tiny head covered with red hair, marveled over the miniature fingers and toes. Looking up into her husband's face, her own full of love, she asked a question that she'd not even considered, "What shall we name her?"

It had not been difficult to find a high priest among those who had traveled from Ireland for the Queen's nuptials and ensuing tourneys. Maggie did not wish to wait until such time as she and the babe were able to travel home. It was the full of the moon and they were gathered in a small grove of trees not far from the manor house. The priest had been busy all the day making sure the site was suitable.

When it was time Maggie, Brian and the babe bundled warmly against the frigid night air entered the grove and the ceremony was begun. The priest intoned the blessing as he held the child, swaddled in furs, up to the moon.

"The little drop of the Father
On thy little forehead, beloved one.

The little drop of the Son
On thy little forehead, beloved one.

The little drop of the Spirit
On thy little forehead, beloved one.

To aid thee from the fays,
To guard thee from the host;

To aid thee from the gnome,
To shield thee from the Spectre;

To keep thee for the Three,
To shield thee, to surround thee;

To save thee for the Three,
To fill thee with the graces;

The little drop of the Three
To lave thee with the graces

A wavelet for thy form,
A wavelet for thy voice,
A wavelet for thy sweet speech;

A wavelet for thy luck,
A wavelet for thy good,
A wavelet for thy health;

A wavelet for thy throat,
A wavelet for thy pluck,
A wavelet for thy graciousness;
A wavelet for thy graciousness."

There was a lusty squall issued forth at the end; the babe letting all know she was mightly put out at being away from the warmth and comfort of her mother. The old priest smiled as he lowered the child and placed her back in Maggie's arms.

"A good sign, my Lady." He then turned to the small gathering of people, "Welcome into this world, Gormflaith Reardon Boru. Protect her as you would your own for we are all of the same. May she be nurtured by the good earth as are we all."

The assembled then hurried back into the warmth of the manor house's hearth; where they were met with hot soup and mulled wine to warm them from the inside out.