Текст книги "Warlord"

Автор книги: Elizabeth A. Vaughan

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter 12

One quick step, and I had my hand on the clenched fist that held the dagger, preventing it from touching the skin. I looked at Reness’s stark face, and gave her a serious grave look, even as my heart sang with happiness. “I’ve cut out babes before, and the women have lived.”

Hope flared in eyes where there’d been none. Some of the faces about us mirror’d hers. Reness stilled her hand. “You have?”

“I have.” I looked around at hopeful faces, including Amyu’s. “It is difficult and dangerous. But let me try.”

There was silence for a moment, as the theas around us considered each other.

“She is not of the Plains.” One spoke softly.

“Do not trust in this woman, Eldest Thea,” another urged. “The winds may rise up in anger.”

The woman moaned and writhed in pain. I didn’t look away from Reness, who stared at me.

Then Reness nodded her head and sheathed her dagger. “Do it.”

“Get a table in here, and get her on it,” I ordered. “I need water, cloths for the blood, and the sharpest, smallest blade you can find me. Quickly. This has gone on long enough.”

There was a flurry about us as they acted as quickly as I could ask. I concentrated on digging out one of my precious needles from my satchel, and some of the dried gut that I always kept there, trying to keep my joy off my face. My heart swelled, filled with a sense of comfort, of pure satisfaction and delight. Here was a task I could do, and do well, in a situation I’d been in many times before. A wonderful sense of being needed filled me, a sense of being wanted.

Of being home.

I schooled my face, and braided my hair up to get it out of the way as I watched the preparations.

Amyu was kneeling by my patient’s head, smoothing back her damp hair, and murmuring something in her ear. She stayed with her even as they lifted Eace onto the table. I caught the words ‘warprize’ and ‘help’. Eace’s eyes seemed more rational now, her head straining up so that she could see me over her belly.

A small knife, probably a skinning blade, was pressed into my hand. I recognized the black flint that was used in the tips of their throwing lances. Ironic that such an instrument of death could be used to save a life. Everyone else was stripping off their tunics, men and women, due to the heat. One of the men offered me a bowl and a pitcher of water, and I held out my hands for the ritual blessing, praying as the water poured over my hands and the knife. Goddess, please guide my hands.

I took my place, and watched as another contraction wracked through my patient. “Scream, Eace,” I of fered. “It will help with the pain.”

“I will not,” Eace panted, laying flat, her face white as snow, sweat pouring off her. “I am a warrior of the Plains. I will not move, I will not flinch. I will chant battle cries.”

I exchanged glances with some of the older women in the room, about to roll my eyes at that comment. But their faces were grim, and I realized that they expected the pain. They thought that was normal. I sighed, and shook my head. “I will not take a chance. Hold her down.”

Many hands reached, and Eace started to chant. “Birth of air, death of—”

Warrior that she was, the poor thing didn’t scream. She jerked under their hands at the touch of my blade, and then conveniently fainted away. I worked swiftly to take advantage of that, making my first cut carefully. Two men stood off to the side, and used cloths to keep the site as clean as possible.

Eln had developed a new technique with these births, pushing the muscles aside instead of slicing them, cutting only where absolutely necessary. I strained, working my hands in, trying to keep my cuts as small as possible.

Once through the womb, I handed the knife out, and reached in to sort out the babe, feeling for the cord, to make sure it wasn’t wrapped around—

I laughed right out loud as my fingers told me what I needed to know.

The theas looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. I just shook my head, and eased forth the babe, who popped out screaming. One of the men stood close, with a clean cloth held open for the child. I placed the crying boy in the blanket, the cord still attached.

“Heyla!” The man laughed and grinned at me. “Hear a warrior’s cries!”

The others broke out into smiles, but I just plunged my hands back inside. “Then here’s double the joy!”

I carefully pulled forth another baby, a girl, red-faced and furious, screaming at this new world. She was even louder than her brother, and she had every right to be, since it was her foot that had blocked the canal.

“Twins!” The theas around us crowed in joy, crooning to the babes.

Reness moved closer, and I looked to her. “Can you tie off the cords, Reness? I must finish here.”

Reness drew her dagger again, her face as bright as the blade. “I am honored, Warprize.”

I turned my attention to Eace, and worked to make sure that I cleaned her out well, before I started to stitch her closed. I tried to be careful, with small stitches, but I was fighting time and her bleeding. Amyu remained by Eace’s head, stroking her forehead, and stared at me with wide eyes.

The babes were off behind me, being cleaned and checked over. But theas remained with me, helping to keep the site clear of blood, dealing with the mess. No wonder she had such a problem, the babes were so large, and Eace a small thing. I concentrated on my work, mindful that my patient was a warrior, and would want to leap to her feet at the first moment of awareness.

Which gave me an idea. Once I had the birthsack closed off, I gestured to my satchel. “I’ve bloodmoss in there, wrapped in blue cloth. Could someone—”

“I know it.” One of the theas reached within, and held it out for me. I gave him a surprised look. He shrugged. “I was given some by one of Keir’s warriors.”

I checked first, to see that the birthsack was properly positioned, that the muscles had eased back into position. Then I pulled the skin together and applied the bloodmoss.

Sure enough, it started to seal the cut, leaving an angry red line in its place. I had to be careful, I didn’t want the herb to seal the layers together. But the bloodmoss did its work, turned color and then pulled clean away from the wound. I took a step back, and drew in a deep breath of relief. Eace was still unconscious, but her breathing had eased. I placed my hand on her chest to find her heart beating steadily.

“She’s ... ?” Amyu looked at me.

I smiled, tired and sweating and feeling so very good. “She’s well, so far. Only time will tell.”

The theas moved in then, with water and cloths, cleaning the unconscious girl, and removing the soiled bedding, making her more comfortable. One offered me a bucket of water, soap, and a scrubbing cloth. I plunged my hands in gratefully, and started scrubbing. I had to chuckle when I saw the state of my tunic. Anna the cook had often claimed that I didn’t own a piece of clothing that didn’t have blood on it at one time or another. She was right.

I glanced over at my patient, proud and satisfied. Two lives saved, by my skill and the will of the Goddess. One still hung in the balance, but only time would tell if Eace would survive. Tears of joy sprang to my eyes, and I focused back on my scrubbing, not sure that any around would understand my tears. Thank you, Lady of the Moon and Stars. Thank you.

I scrubbed harder, blinking my eyes clear. I’d have to send Eln word that I’d used bloodmoss for this procedure. Although, knowing my old master, he’d probably already tried it.

Reness approached, bearing a clean tunic. She offered it to me. I glanced around the tent, but everyone was focused on Eace, so I turned my back on her, and quickly changed.

I turned back, to see that she was looking at me oddly. “So it is true what they say, about those of Xy.”

I laughed. “Yes. Which is why I haven’t had a decent bath since I got here.”

“Bath?” Reness asked, puzzled. “But the lake—”

Eace stirred at that moment, looking around, dazed and confused. Amyu was beside her, crying and smiling. Eace blinked up at her. “What happened? Where is my babe?”

I looked about expecting someone to bring forth her babes. But I realized that the babes were gone.

“Where is my baby?” Eace cried out plaintively, struggling weakly to sit up.

The theas, male and female, all gathered around the table, hands reaching out to soothe her. Reness stepped over, to place her hand on Eace’s forehead. “There were two babes, Eace. Two tattoos for your arm. You have done well.”

“Two? Two?” Eace struggled even as they pressed her to stay down. “Where are they?”

“In the arms of the Tribe,” one of the others offered, in a soft voice.

“B—but I want—” Eace started weeping, and my own throat closed. Why didn’t they bring the babes back to her?

Suddenly, all of the male theas bowed low to Eace, low enough to show the backs of their necks, and left the tent. Reness stood tall at her side, and placed her fingers over the crying woman’s lips. “We are the life-givers. Life-bearers of the Plains.”

“This is our burden. This is our pain.” The others crowded around as they intoned the words, their voices soft and low. I doubted that they could be heard outside the tent. Reness looked over at me, and gestured me to step closer. I took a step, and arms reached out to pull me within the press of bodies. Eace was surrounded on all sides, being touched and stroked by every woman around the table.

“The Tribe has grown. The Tribe has flourished,” Reness chanted. Eace was still weeping, her eyes closed, but she’d stopped crying out.

“This is our burden, this is our pain.”

“Our babes are taken. Our arms are empty.” Reness’s voice was a whisper. Eace stared up into her eyes.

I bit my lip, wanting desperately to go get the babies and place them in her arms. But it was clear that this was part of their world and their tradition. Eace’s sorrow was deep, and reflected in the eyes of every woman around us.

“This is our burden, this is our pain.” The other women were hugging each other, arms on each other’s shoulders, forming a circle around Eace. I was included, wrapped in the press of their bodies.

Eace was nodding her acceptance now, although her pain was still there, raw and ugly. She whispered along with Reness, “This is the price of our freedom.”

The tent was silent, then Reness leaned forward, placing a kiss of Eace’s forehead. “You have served the Tribe well, child. Bare your arm, and receive your tattoos.” She stood, smiling. “Then we will dance, yes?”

The women around us cried out in joy. Some were bringing out new supplies, and calling the men back in to the tent.

Eace frowned then shifted on the table, putting her hand on her flaccid stomach. “I thought you were going to cut the babes free? How do I live?”

Amyu spoke. “I brought the Xyian healer.”

Eace’s eyes widened. “Did she bring me back from the snows?”

“No.” I wasn’t going to let that rumor start. “I used my skills to cut the babes out, Eace. You will be well, although it will take time to heal. Sleep is the best thing.”

Eace just looked at me in astonishment. The theas started moving then, and Reness pulled me back, out of their way as they prepared to tattoo Eace’s arm. She gestured for Amyu, who moved over by us reluctantly.

“She will heal?” Reness asked me, and at my nod, pressed further. “Will she bear again?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. That is in the hands of the elements.”

“Her milk will come?”

“It should.” I bit my lip. “Will she feed her own babes?”

Reness shook her head in response, gathering up my satchel to put it in my hands. “No. She’ll nurse others.”

“And what happens if she can’t bear more?” I asked, curious. “I know that you require five before—”

Reness’s eyes flickered to Amyu for a moment, and I followed her look to see that Amyu was in the process of putting on her tunic. She froze under our gaze, but all I could see was her left arm. Her bare left arm. No tattoos.

No children. Amyu had no children. My eyes met hers, and I saw another kind of pain in their depths.

Reness frowned. “You must return to your tent, before your absence is discovered. Go now.”

Startled, I protested. “Eace must be watched for signs of—”

“We will do that.” Reness threw my cloak over my shoulders. Amyu was pulling on her tunic.

“But...” I didn’t want to leave my patient without aid. “You could have a warrior-priest check—”

Reness barked a laugh. “What warrior-priest would trouble themselves over a birth?”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. Reness ignored my reaction, and hustled me out of the tent, Amyu following behind with my satchel. “We will watch her carefully, I swear it,” Reness said. “Now go, and quickly.”

Rafe and Prest were waiting, and we started back in silence, much to my frustration. Amyu avoided my eyes, and I didn’t press her with questions. I huffed out a breath, and pulled my cloak close around me. My questions could wait, until I’d had more sleep.

But as I left that tent, I knew one thing for certain. When the time came, if the time came, no one was taking my babe from my arms.

Unless I was dead.

I broke Amyu’s silence at breakfast. She served kavage and food, and then tried to bow herself from the room, but I spoke first. “Amyu.”

She stopped, clearly not happy, her eyes down.

“Amyu—” Now that I’d started I wasn’t sure what to say.

“I am barren.” Amyu’s voice was flat, her face void of any emotion. “I have not quickened since my moon times came on me.” She didn’t look up, didn’t move, but her hands clenched into fists. “I have prayed to the elements and tried every remedy suggested by countless theas and initiators. I even managed to convince a warrior-priest to treat me, but still my body will not bear.” She remained unmoving, but her knuckles were white. “What once brought pleasure is now almost too painful to suffer.”

“Amyu.” I gestured to the stool opposite mine, but she did not move. “I don’t—”

“I was chosen to serve you, because even if I was contaminated by your ways, it would not matter.”

I stiffened. “Why doesn’t it matter?”

She lifted her face, proud and detached. “Bearing no children, I remain a child myself, unable to serve the Tribes as a warrior. I will perform this last task, then I will seek the snows.”

That explained why Essa and Reness had called her a child, then. I had thought it a form of endearment, but it wasn’t. It was her status.

“Amyu.” I leaned forward, desperate that she understand. “I have ways to aid a woman to bear children, but I don’t have them with me. There are herbs in the mountains, horse grass for example, that might—”

“So I turn to your ways to bear for the Tribe?” Amyu spat. “What does that make me? Of the Plains? Of Xy?” She grimaced and turned to go.

“You asked for my help for Eace. Can’t you accept that help for yourself?”

She paused, back straight, then headed for the tent flap. “Eat, Daughter of Xy. They are seeing to a bath for you.”

She left me sitting there, with food before me, and no real appetite. What a waste that would be. How many lives, like Amyu and Marcus, did the Plains lose because of their ways and traditions?

I took a drink of kavage, dark and bitter on my tongue. Maybe there was a good reason to take babes from their mothers, but I couldn’t see it. And I’d die a hundred times before I’d allow a babe of mine to be taken from me.

Suddenly, it seemed so hopeless. The idea that I could change anything about these people, even with Keir’s help ... it seemed so ridiculous. So impossible. That we could combine our peoples, and benefit both, despite their differences.

Keir. My throat suddenly closed. I missed him so much. I wanted him close, to talk, to argue, to touch. I hated this separation, hated not knowing what was happening to him. Maybe I could get a message to him, somehow. Maybe Rafe, or Prest? I took up the flat bread, and started chewing.

I stopped in mid-bite. Did she say something about a bath?

“This wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” I tried not to laugh at them, since it wasn’t their fault. But my hosts had very odd ideas of what ‘bathing under the bells’ meant.

They’d put up a tent over a stream that pooled deeply next to the bank. The tent stretched from bank to bank, and down into the water. There was no top. They’d carefully asked if I had to be private to the skies, and I’d solemnly told them that it wasn’t a problem.

“It’s private,” I conceded. The warrior-priests were glaring at me rather fiercely. Apparently Reness carried a bit of weight and they’d been told in no uncertain terms to arrange a bath for me.

“Of course, my Warlord provided warm water,” I added sweetly.

Amyu suppressed a slight smile as my offended guards filed out. “We will guard upstream and down, so that you are not disturbed.” Amyu offered a basket full of drying cloths, and a clean tunic and trous on top. I dropped my satchel on the shore, and took them with a great deal of satisfaction. It was going to be chilly, but it was a bath, and I couldn’t wait to wash my hair.

Amyu gave me a nod. “Call out if you need me.”

I waited until the tent flap fell shut, then stripped off my clothes. The sun was high, almost to the nooning, so that would help keep me warm as I dried. I’d wash out my underthings as well. Naked, I sat on the grassy shore, and dug out my precious bar of vanilla soap. There was a bit of vanilla oil left too. I’d save that for my hair. I chortled in delight. A bath. Finally!

I set everything out where I could reach it, and then slipped into the water, gasping as the cold stole my breath.

The bottom was sandy under my toes, clear of sticks and rocks. I reached down and added some sand to my hands as I worked the soap for suds. I was determined to get as clean as possible. The sand added a bit of grit as I worked the soap over every inch of my skin.

It didn’t take long for the water to feel warm and the air cool. I waded out into deeper water, holding my breath to submerge myself completely, and started in on my hair. It would take time to dry but it would be worth it. It felt so good to scrub my scalp.

Finally, after sudsing and rinsing twice, I stood up straight. My hair felt heavy with all the water and I wrung it out as best I could. Twirling it up in a long rope, I laid it over my shoulder, and moved toward the bank. I’d dry it out and comb it once I was—

Something grabbed my ankle.

I jumped, squeaked, and dropped the soap.

Keir rose from the depths, dripping wet and glorious. I gaped in amazement, drinking in his face.

“Lara,” he whispered, reaching out to me. “We need to—”

I leaped into his arms, reaching out to pull his head down, and claimed his lips with mine.

Keir moaned into my mouth, and his arms came up to wrap me in their strength. I kissed him again and again, craving his touch, his taste, his hot breath on my chilled skin.

Keir broke the kiss, gasping for air. “We must talk.”

I reclaimed his mouth, and raised my leg to rub his hip, trying to get him closer. His arm moved down, his hand under my buttocks, and then both hands, supporting me, lifting me.

I held on for dear life, grabbing his shoulders, refusing to release his mouth. He groaned as he entered me, and moved me with ease, his arms and shoulders flexing under my fingers. I broke the kiss, and wrapped my arms around him, urging him on with soft demands in his ear, letting my fingers play with his wet hair.

It had been so long.

We both shuddered in release at the same time, holding each other tight, fearful of making a sound. The air was chill, yet there was nothing but heat burning within. I listened to Keir try to catch his breath as I stroked his damp shoulders. “The skies favor the bold,” I whispered softly.

He pulled back his head to smile at me, and kiss me again. “I had to see you. To know that you were well. To taste—”

I kissed him again, desperate for more. Part of me trembled at the risk he was taking, at the thought that we might be caught.

The rest of me trembled for other reasons.

Keir shifted me then, lifting me a bit higher, and carried me over to the bank where my clothing lay. He placed me on the grass, and stood before me, gently stroking my cheek. “There’s not much time, Lara. We—”

I threw my arm over his neck, and fell back, forcing him to cover my body with his. He groaned again, a sound filled with longing, want and need. My soul sang to hear it.

He braced himself over me, breathing hard. “Lara.”

I looked up into those wonderful blue eyes. “Take me, my Warlord.”

That was enough to unleash my Cat. He growled low, and moved between my legs, and the entire world exploded. I was pressed hard into the grass, and met each thrust with an answering movement. I wrapped my arms around him, and buried my face in his neck, muffling my cries against the damp skin of his neck. And just as I could feel my body reach the heights, I bit his neck, playing with the thin skin with my teeth. He arched his back and pressed deep within, convulsing in my arms.

“Xylara?” Amyu’s voice cut though my daze.

Keir pulled me up and forward, and we fell into the water together, the cold shocking me with awareness of the danger. I exploded up out of the depths, to find Amyu standing on the bank, her dagger drawn. My hands jerked over my breasts. “Amyu!”

“I thought I heard something.” She scanned the area closely.

“I dropped my soap.” I turned my back. “Now, if you don’t mind . . .”

I looked over my shoulder and made sure that she left the tent. I bent down, peering into the water that surrounded me—

But Keir was gone.