SG was cold. She wore nothing but a long brown woolen robe and sandals made of wood and rope. There were patches of snow on the ground, and she could see her breath when she exhaled. She sat on a flat stone at the top of a small rise, next to a stone and thatch hut. In the shallow valley below, a band of adults and children were struggling through the snow and mud. One of them looked up and saw her. The figure pointed to her, and soon two dozen faces had been turned toward her. She could hear their excited talk even from this distance. They climbed toward her, and one child, barefoot and wearing a frock of coarse cloth, broke into the lead. She came within a few feet of SG, then halted, suddenly shy.

"Are you afraid of me?" SG asked. "I will not hurt you." The child was thin, so terribly thin. The others had caught up. They stood behind the child, gazing at SG in wonder. Their faces were gaunt. It appeared that all the adults were women. "Who are you?" asked one of them. "I've come to lead you out of this land of famine," SG said. The words came unbidden - and unexpected. SG rose. She was much taller than any of them, and they seemed awestruck by her size. "Where are your men?" SG asked. "Taken to fight for the Duke," answered a red-faced woman who was missing most of her teeth. "Or dead," said another. SG knelt beside the little girl who stood nearest her. The child bowed her head timidly. The gesture was like a stab wound to SG's heart. If she could save anyone, she would save this little girl. She felt a strange sensation in her breasts. It was as though they were growing. "Can you make it over the mountains?" SG asked. "Not without food," said the red-faced woman. "We haven't eaten in two days." SG pulled the long robe over her head, revealing her beautiful naked body.

"I will feed you," she said. She knelt again and offered her breast to the little girl. The child without hesitation began sucking, and SG felt the milk surging from it. "I have another," she called out. "Send me another child." A mother pushed a little boy forward. "Go and suck," the mother whispered loudly.

As hunger overcame his shyness, the little boy came forward and started on SG's other tit. SG was filled with compassion, and with milk. She fed all the children first. There were 14 of them. Then she fed the mothers and grandmothers - 11 in all. The women cried as they nursed. They said prayers of thanksgiving. God was delivering them from death by starvation. They would survive and start in a new land, beyond the mountains. This miracle-working saint would lead them. Saint SG was experiencing feelings entirely new to her. Never before had she lactated. It was a wonderfully sensual experience. And she was happy to be helping these poor people. If only she could help more. They needed so much. When everyone in the group had been fed, SG took a wooden staff that had been leaning against the hut and began marching toward the mountains. The group, now fortified, followed.

# # #

They walked until sundown. By some means she didn't understand, SG knew the route they must take - a route that would take them across a mountain pass that had been used for years by marauding armies but had rarely been attempted by peasant folk. But lactation had weakened her, and her pace was slower than she had wished. Not that any in the group could have managed a faster one. Near the end of the day, SG had to carry an old woman on her back. They reached a patch of level ground just as the sun disappeared behind the peaks to the southwest. SG gently laid the old woman on the ground, then patted her cheek and asked how she was doing. There was no response. The woman was dead, probably had been dead for over an hour. The woman's daughter and two grandchildren wept and prayed beside her.

The ground was hard and cold. Burial underground was impossible. SG told the group to make a fire while she scouted for a cave in which to place the corpse. If all else failed, they could cover it with loose rock. "Be careful, madame," said the red-faced woman. "There are wild beasts in these mountains, and things worse than beasts - thieves and killers." "Have no fear," said SG. "I will return quickly." Using her staff for support, SG made her way up the steep mountainside. The light was fading, and she despaired of finding a burial place. But at last she spotted a rocky overhang that appeared to be the entrance of a cave. I will return here tomorrow morning, she thought, and the grey-haired one will have a proper funeral.

The sound of falling water in the distance called her on. She climbed another few hundred feet and found herself looking down on a long slope to a wide valley below. In the moonlight, she could see a river running through the valley. It was good land, a land where her charges could make a new start. On her way back to her group, she heard the howling of wolves. She hoped her group had stuck together and built a fire. Numbers and flames would keep the beasts at bay. She didn't worry about her own safety. She should have. As she came around a large boulder, she found herself face to face with four gleaming grey-green eyes. The wolves had heard her coming and were crouched to spring.

She swung her staff into fighting position. But at that instant something hit her back and knocked her face-forward to the ground. It was a third wolf, and when he attacked, the other two quickly joined in.