Three days and nights had passed, and Rohana had given up expecting pursuit or capture. If there had been pursuit at all, it had taken the wrong direction or been left hopelessly behind. Or else Melora was right, and Jalak's heirs, finding him dead or wholly disabled, were busily dividing up his remaining wives and his property.
Gradually the character of the land had changed: the first days had seen dry, burning, gritty sand, broken only by scruffy thorn bushes and feathery spicebush; now there were endless, trackless leagues of low, rolling dunes, covered by grayish Dryland bracken, with now and again a sharp black outcrop of rock. As if, Rohana thought, recalling the old tale, when Zandru made the Drylands, even the very rocks rebelled and broke through their cover, thrusting up in rebellion ... the very bones of the world refusing to be covered in these barren leagues of desert and sand....
It was nearing twilight; the fierceness of the sun was tempered by the lengthening angle of the shadow. All that day they had seen no living thing, and Kindra had cautioned them to drink sparingly from their water-skins. "Should anything delay us," she had warned, with a sharp glance at Melora, "we might not reach the next water hole this night ... and we cannot carry too much in reserve."
Melora rode just ahead of her, head down, braced stiffly in her saddle. She had not spoken since they left the site of their noonday rest, and when Rohana would have felt her forehead for fever, she had turned away, refusing the touch, refusing even to meet Rohana's searching eyes. Rohana was desperately worried about her. This trip was far too long, far too arduous for any pregnant woman. Melora had not complained; Rohana had the chilling sense that she had ceased to care. She seemed to have expended all the effort of which she was capable in making the original contact with Rohana that had resulted in her rescue; that accomplished, it seemed to Rohana that Melora no longer cared. She had not even asked any further questions about her home, about their kin, about what lay ahead when they should leave the Dryland country and return to the Domains.
The sun descended, a great blood-colored orb, blurred at the horizon with the first clouds Rohana had seen since they crossed the river at Carthon. Kindra, riding ahead, stopped to let Rohana come up with her, and pointed to the purpled sunset. She said, "Those clouds hang over Carthon; and beyond Carthon we are in the Domains again. Even if Jalak came so far, he would have to come with an army. Safety lies there. How does the Lady Melora?"
"Not well, I fear," Rohana said soberly, and Kindra nodded.
"For her sake I shall be glad when we cross the river and we can travel at a pace more fitting her condition. It goes against me, to force the pace this way, but there is no safety for any of us in this country."
"I know," Rohana said, "and I am sure Melora understands. She knows, better than any of us, the dangers for women of the Domains, here in the Dry Towns."
Kindra said, "Well, we will make camp yonder"-she pointed to one of the great black tumuli of rock, up thrust like jagged teeth against the low horizon- "and there, if the Goddess is good to us, we will cook some hot food, and perhaps even wash the dust from our faces."
"Do you know every water hole hi this territory, Kindra?"
The woman shook her head. "I have never traveled here before, but I can see the kyorebni circling as they do only over water. And tomorrow before midday perhaps we will ford the river, and be safe in Carthon." She grimaced. "I am hungry for hot roast meat and good hot soup instead of this unending porridge and dried meat and fruit, and some fresh-baked bread instead of hardtack."
"Me too," Rohana said, "and I shall stand surety for the best meal we can buy in the best cook shop in Carthon, believe me, once we cross the river!"
Kindra looked back and said slowly, "Pray to your Goddess, Lady, that domna Melora is able to enjoy that meal. Ride back to her, Lady Rohana, and reassure her that we will make camp just a little farther on. She seems almost ready to fall from her saddle." Her face, in the gathering darkness, was deeply troubled.
Rohana did as she was bidden, sighing. It seemed that never in her life had she known such prolonged and incessant fatigue. The thought of sleeping in a bed under a roof, eating hot, fresh-cooked food, bathing in a hot tub of scented water, comforts she had taken so much for granted that she never even thought about them, made her whole body ache with an almost sensuous longing.
She supposed the Amazons would think such longings soft and weak. Well, she would show them that she could endure hard living if she must; she was Comynara and she would be strong as any man of her caste. But she wished there were a few comforts for Melora.
Melora was riding next to Fat Rima; as Rohana neared them the big Amazon lowered her voice and said, "Look to your kinswoman, Lady. No, she has not complained, but I earned my bread for a time as a midwife in the Lake Country, and she has a look to her that I do not like."
It's good to know there is a midwife among us, at least. Rohana drew her horse even with Melora's; Melora raised her head, slowly and wearily, and her look shocked Rohana. Her face was swollen, with a dull pallor; even her tight lips were colorless. She tried to smile at Rohana, but could not quite manage it. Her face contracted in a sudden spasm of pain, and Rohana knew at once what her kinswoman had been trying to conceal.
"Breda, you are in labor!"
Melora grimaced. "For some hours, I fear," she said apologetically. "I had hoped we could reach a campsite near to water. I am very thirsty, Rohana," she added, in the first hint of complaint Rohana had heard from her lips.
She leaned over and took Melora's hands in her own. She said, "We are very near to water, love; can you ride just a little way farther, just a few hundred steps more? See?" She pointed through the falling dusk. "One or two of them are already dismounting; see there? Listen; I can hear Jaelle laughing."
Melora said softly, "She is like a little animal let out of a cage. I am so glad that they are so good to her. Poor little rabbit, I have had so little strength to spare for her, on this journey-----"
"I am sure she understands," Rohana said softly. "I hope she does not," Melora said, and in the twilight her face twisted. They were near to the place where the others were dismounting; again Rohana heard Jaelle's light merry laugh. In the days of the journey she had quickly become a favorite with all the Amazons; laughing, chattering, full of endless questions about the world and the life before her. They had competed with one another for the privilege of carrying her on their saddles when she grew weary, saved her such tidbits and choice morsels as they could scrounge from their sparse meals, told her stories and sang songs to while away the tedium of the trip, even fashioned her small toys and playthings from odds and ends.
If nothing else, we have freed Jaelle, and she is a daughter of whom any of the Domains could be proud. Jalak's blood may be a handicap when the time comes for her to make a good marriage, but that can be overcome. She has laran, / am sure; I will have her tested when we come to Thendara....
She slid from her horse, relinquished it to Rima, who came to lead it away, and tenderly helped Melora from her saddle. Melora's knees buckled and Rohana had to support her cousin's weight in her arms; she held her upright, but suddenly frightened, called to Kindra. After a moment the Amazon leader came from the shadows, took in the situation with one appraising glance. "So your time has come, domna? Well, only two things in this world are sure, birth and next winter's snow, and both come when they will and not when it is convenient. Thanks to the Goddess, we are near to water. A pity we had to abandon the tent; no child should be born with only the sky for a roof."
"Better under the free sky than in Jalak's Great House," Melora said fiercely, and Kindra held her hand for a moment. "Can you walk just a little, Lady? We will prepare a place for you to rest."
"I can do what I must," Melora said, but she leaned very heavily on her kinswoman, and Rohana felt an all-encompassing dread. Here, in the black night, in the desert, with no skilled hands to help ... Rima had been a midwife, perhaps; but the Free Amazons renounced womanhood....
"I had hoped that I could hold out till we reached Carthon," Melora said, and Rohana realized that her kinswoman was sharing her sense of unease and dread. Rohana must somehow manage to be strong and confident
She said, "Look. They are making a fire, we will have light, and some hot food, and there is water near," as she guided Melora's steps toward the kindled blaze. "And we are in luck; one of these women was once a midwife!"
She was dismayed, now that she could see Melora by firelight: hands and ankles swollen, eyes red and feverish. She should have told us hours ago; we should have stopped ... but then the child would have been born without water near. ...
Melora sank down gratefully on the pile of blankets that the Amazons had arranged for her. For a moment she buried her face in her hands; Rohana could hear her breathing, loud and hoarse like an animal. Then she raised her head and said plaintively, "I am thirsty, Rohana-will you bring me a drink?"
"Of course." Rohana began to rise, but Melora clutched at her hands. "No, no stay with me. Did I tell you why I suddenly knew I must escape, get Jaelle away, or kill her myself before this child was born?"
"No, dear, you didn't tell me-"
"When I found her-playing with Jalak's other little daughters-they had all of them, even Jaelle, tied ribbons about their hands, playing at being grown up, and in chains-"
Rohana felt herself shudder, deep down in the bones. She said quickly, "Dear, let me go. I will fetch you a drink; do you think you could eat a little?" She left Melora lying on the pile of blankets and went to the darkness near the water hole, kneeling to rinse the cup, trembling, glad to hide her face in the darkness.
After a little she managed to control herself and come back. Kindra said from the fire, "Tell her we will have some hot food soon, and something to drink; it may strengthen her for what lies ahead. And I think we can manage torchlight later, if we need it."
Rohana somehow managed to thank her. She came back and knelt beside Melora, who was lying with her eyes closed; Rohana held the cup to her lips, and Melora gulped it thirstily. Rohana said, "We shall have some hot food for you soon; try to rest." She went on talking, saying anything that crossed her mind, trying to sound encouraging; after a few minutes, Melora put out a hand to stop the flow of chatter.
"Breda-" She used the casta word for "sister"; in the intimate inflection it also meant "darling." "Don't lie to me. In memory of what we both were, once, don't try to pretend, as if I were still an outsider; what is going to happen?"
Rohana looked at the sick woman, heart-wrung. So after all she is still Comyn, still telepath; she can read me so easily. "What can I say to you, Melora? You know as well as I that no woman so far in pregnancy should travel so far or so fast. But other women have survived worse than this, and lived to frighten their granddaughters with the tales of what they endured. And I'll be with you."
Melora clasped her hand. "Better you than the evil crone who brought Jaelle into the world," she said, clinging to her cousin's fingers. "She would not even free my hands...." She ran her fingertips, as with a long-habitual gesture, along the jagged scars at her wrists. "Jalak swore if I bore a son he would give me whatever I asked, save my freedom; I had it in my mind to ask for her head."
Rohana shuddered, was grateful when Fat Rima approached them; she said, "Here is our midwife; she will do what she can for you, breda."
Melora looked up at her; she felt-Rohana sensed it-skeptical and more than a little frightened. But she said (and again, poignantly, Rohana was reminded of the lighthearted and gracious girl Melora had once been), "I thank you, mestra; I did not know any of the Free Amazons would choose such a womanly trade."
"Why, Lady, we earn our bread at any honest work," Rima said. "Did you truly think we are all soldiers and hunters? The Guild-house in the city of Arilinn, where I was trained, has a specialty of training midwives; and we compare everything that is known about the problems of birth from Temora to the Hellers, so we are the best of midwives; even on the great estates, sometimes, women will send for us. Now, my Lady, let me see how far this thing has gone, and how long you must expect to wait-here." She knelt, feeling all about Melora's body with gentle, expert hands. "Well, it is a strong child, and a big one, too."
She broke off as Jaelle came running toward them. The child's face was drawn and white in the firelight. "Mother-oh, Mother-" she said and burst into tears.
Rima said firmly, "Come, my child, that will not help Mother. You are almost a woman now yourself; you must not behave like a baby and trouble us."
Melora dragged herself upright, letting herself lean heavily on Rohana. "Come here, Jaelle. No, let her come to me, I know she will be good."
Struggling to fight back her sobs, Jaelle came and knelt beside her mother; Melora seized her hi a fierce embrace and said, not to any of them, "It was worth it all. You are free, you are free!" She kissed the small wet face hungrily, again and again; then laid her hand under Jaelle's small quivering chin and looked at her a long time in the wavering firelight before saying, "You must go now, my darling, and stay with the other women. You cannot help me now, and you must leave me to those who can. Go, my dearest love, try to sleep a little."
Crying, Jaelle let Gwennis lead her away into the darkness beyond the campfire. Rohana heard the child sobbing softly for a long time; then she was quiet and Rohana hoped she had cried herself to sleep. The night wore on slowly. Rohana stayed with Melora, holding her hands, now and then sponging her sweaty face with cold water. Melora was still and patient, doing what she was told, trying to rest between the spasms; now and then she talked a little, and after a time Rohana, with a shudder, knew Melora had lost track of where she was and what was happening. She talked to her own mother, years dead; once she started up with a shriek, crying out curses in the Dry-Town language; again and again she sobbed and entreated them not to chain her again, or cried out, over and over, "My hands! My hands!" and her fingers went again and again to the long ragged scars at her wrists. Rohana listened, murmured to her soothingly, tried now and again to break through the delirious muttering . . .. If Melora knew she was here and free, here with me.... She tried, with all her telepathic skill, to reach her cousin's mind, but all she could feel was horror and long dread.
Blessed Cassilda, mother of the Domains . . . Evanda, Goddess of light, Goddess of birth ... merciful Avarra ... what she must have endured, what horror she must have known....
None of the other women slept, although Kindra had ordered them all to bed; Rohana could sense, like a tangible vibration in the air, their awareness, their concern. At times like this it is a curse, to read the thoughts of others....
Once, when Melora slept for a moment, in exhaustion, Rima met Rohana's eyes over the struggling body and shook her head briefly. Rohana closed her own eyes for a moment. Not yet! Don't give up hope yet!
Rima said, pityingly, "She has no strength left, I think, to be free of the child. We can only wait."
Rohana suddenly knew if she stayed there another moment she would break into hysterical screams and sobs, herself. She said thickly, "I will be back in a moment," and rose, plunging away, around the campfire, toward the crude latrine the Amazons dug at their camps. She leaned against the harsh rock-face, covering her face, struggling not to vomit or scream. After a moment, controlling herself a little, she went to the fire, where a pot had been left with the hot drink of fermented grain, which the Amazons used in place of bark-tea or jaco, just simmering. She dipped herself out a cup and sipped it, fighting for self-control. Kindra, tall and almost invisible in the darkness, stopped and laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Bad, my Lady?"
"Very bad." Rohana felt for a moment that the hot bitter brew would choke her. "She is not-not a woman who could ever have borne children easily; and here, without skilled help, after so much suffering-after this hard journey-without care or comfort . . ."
Kindra's sigh seemed to come from the very depths of her being. "I am sorry, truly sorry. It is cruel that she should suffer so much for freedom, and never live to enjoy it, after so much courage. It must add greatly to her suffering, to know that even if her child is born alive, there will be none to suckle him or care for him."
A resentment she had not known she felt, against these women who had chosen to spare themselves the pains of womanhood, surged up in Rohana, out of control. She had forcibly to restrain herself from flinging the scalding contents of her cup at the older woman. She said bitterly, "You! What would you know of that fear for a child?"
"Why, as much as you, Lady," said Kindra. "I bore four children before I had turned twenty. I was given in marriage very young, and my first child died before I could bring him forth; the midwives said I should not try to bear another, but my husband was eager for an heir. My second and third children were daughters both, and he cursed me. I came very near to death with my fourth child-he was three days in the bearing-and this time, instead of curses, when he saw our son, he showered me with gifts and jewels. And then I knew a woman's lot in our world was wholly accursed. I was of no value; the daughters I bore him at risk of my life were of no value; I was nothing but an instrument to give him sons. And so when I could walk again, I left my children sleeping, one night, and cut my hair, and made my way alone to the Guild of Free Amazons, and there my life began."
Rohana stared at her in horror. She could think of nothing to say. Finally she stammered, "But-but all men are not like that, Kindra."
"No?" Kindra said.4"I rejoice you have not found them so, Lady, but that is luck and good fortune, and no more." She glanced at the reddening sky, and said, "Hush," listening to the sounds that had changed, in the last few minutes, from long, patient sighs to harsh, gasping breaths and hoarse short grunts of effort. She said quickly, "Go to her, Lady. It cannot be long now."
There was enough light in the sky now so that Rohana, coming to kneel beside Melora, could see her kinswoman's face, strained and swollen as she fought, panting, for breath.
"Rohana-Rohana-promise me-"
Rima said, imperatively, "Don't talk, dear; pay attention now. Take a good deep breath, and hold it. Come now, dear, that's right, another nice long breath. Now, bear down- come on, hold on tight, just push-"
Rohana let Melora take her hands, cling to them with agonized strength as the inexorable process of birth seized her body, wrenching her into spasms. Rima said, in the singsong that Rohana supposed was common to all midwives, "Come on, now, sweet, that's a good girl, another nice big push, hard now. That's right, that's a good girl, come on now, just a little bit more-"
Rohana felt Melora's nails dig into her hand; the contact wrung her with agony. Wide open to her cousin, she felt the tearing pain wrenching at her own body, gasped with the weight of it. Too much, too much . . . worse than when Kyril was born . . .. She felt the smothered scream Melora was fighting back, thought in dismay, Gabriel stayed with me; now I know how he felt . . . 1 know now he felt all I was enduring. I never knew . . . too much, too much . . ..
She felt the pain ebb away, felt Melora relax for a moment. Rima said authoritatively, "Come on, now, breathe deep, get ready for the next one; a few more good ones like that and it'll be all over." But Melora ignored her, clutching at Rohana's hands. She gasped, "Rohana, promise-promise-if I die-care for my children. My baby, take my baby-"
She gasped, and arched her body again under the fierce, wrenching pain. Rohana could not speak; she reached for contact with Melora again, directly to her mind.
-I swear it, darling, by the Blessed Cassilda and by the Lord of Light.... They shall be as my own children, may the Gods seize me if I make any difference between them and the children born of my own body....
Melora whispered, "Thank you-I knew-" She collapsed again. Over her head, dark with sweat, Rima looked up, and Rohana met Kindra's eyes. Kindra said quietly, "I had better fetch Jaelle now."
Rohana looked up indignantly; looked at the swollen, unconscious body, the spreading bloodstains, feeling the wrenching agony seize Melora again, and herself flinched before the terrifying assault on body and mind. She said in violent indignation, "How can you? Is this any place for a little girl . . .?"
Kindra said gently, but inexorably, "It is her right, Lady. Would you wish to sleep through your mother's deathbed? Or are you still lying to yourself, Lady Rohana?" She did not wait for Rohana's answer. Rohana, kneeling, letting Melora grip her hands with that anguished death-grip, heedless of Melora's nails digging into her and drawing blood, was seized again by that moment of terror she had known at the climax of her own child-beds.... Breaking, tearing, splitting, coming apart... dying. ... Rohana struggled to keep herself a little apart from Melora's terror, to give her kinswoman some strength, something to cling to outside her own agony and fear. She held Melora, murmuring endearments, whispering, "We're with you, love, we're right here, we're going to take good care of you.”, but she did not know what she was saying.
For the first and last time Melora shrieked aloud, a long, terrible cry of anguish and dread; and then, just as the sun was rising, into the terrible silence there was another sound: a strange, sharp, shrill sound, the uplifted howling of a newborn child.
"Praise to Evanda," said Rima, holding up the naked, bloody child, feet first. "Listen to how strong he is! I didn't have to slap this one into life-"
Melora whispered, almost inaudibly, "Give him to me," and reached out for him, her face changing. The never-failing miracle, Rohana, thought. Always, no matter how hard and terrible the birth, there was this moment of joy, when the face changed, alight and glowing. Melora looks so happy, so happy; how can she? Rohana wondered, not remembering her own happiness. Rima wrapped the baby in a fold of clean towel she had laid ready, and placed him on Melora's flaccid belly. She said matter-of-factly, "He will do weir enough."
"Jalak's son," Melora whispered, and the joyous smile slipped away. "What will become of him, poor little wretch?"
Rima said sharply, "My Lady-"
Melora reached out her hands. She said, "Jaelle- Jaelle, come here and kiss me-oh, Jaelle-"
Rima cried out in consternation; blood came forth in a great gush, and Melora sighed and fell back, her face white and lifeless. And there was no sound in the sunrise except the crying of Melora's motherless children.
"Will you truly have Jalak's son to foster, Lady Rohana?" Kindra asked.
The sun was high in the camp. Jaelle had cried herself to exhaustion and was lying on the sand between them, limp, like some bedraggled little animal. Rohana was half sitting, half lying against a pile of saddlebags. She had wrapped the naked child and thrust him inside her tunic against her breasts, where he squirmed and nuzzled, already lively and seeking the nourishment he did not know would be denied him. Rohana patted the warm bundle tenderly. She said, "What else can I do, Kindra? I swore to Melora that her children should be to me as my own in all things." '
Kindra said fiercely, "He is a male of Jalak's blood; do not your kinsmen and your foster-brother's blood cry out for revenge, that you should cherish him? Is there not blood-feud and a life between you and Jalak's son, my Lady?" She bared her knife, handed it to Rohana, hilt first. She said, "He cost Melora her life, so she came never to her hard-won freedom; and he is Jalak's son. Avenge your kinsmen, Lady."
Chilled, sick with horror, Rohana knew that Kindra spoke no more than simple truth. The men of the Ardais and Aillard Domains would have echoed her words: Jalak's son must pay for Jalak's crimes.
She felt the child move against her body, warm and strong. Melora's child; and I took him up from her dead body. She looked at Jaelle, who was curled tight beside them, her eyes shut in rejection. She is Jalak's child, too. Must she pay?
Kindra said earnestly, "Rohana, he will die, whatever you do now. There is no nurse for him, no food, no proper care. Don't wring your heart for him; let him lie here beside his mother."
Slowly, Rohana shook her head. She handed back the knife, meeting the Amazon's eyes. She said, "Blood-feud and revenge are for men, Kindra. I am glad to be a woman, and bound by no such cruel law. Let this child's life, not his death, pay for my foster-brother's death; Ardais lost a son in Valentine, so this boy shall be called Valentine." She laid her hands, as if in ritual, on the small squirming body, "And he shall be foster-son to Ardais, in place of the one who died at Jalak's hands."
Kindra put the knife away, raised her face with a grim smile. She said, "Well spoken, my Lady. An Amazon would say so, indeed; but I had not thought you were so free to discard the laws of your clan and caste."
Rohana said violently, "I hope I will always feel free to ignore any law so cruel! It may be that he will die, as you say; but not at my hands, and not if I can save him!"
Kindra nodded. "So be it," she said. "I will speak to Rima; she has fostered motherless babes before this. Our women sometimes die in bearing, too, and Rima is skilled in all the secrets of the Arilinn Guild-house." She rose, saying, "There is another child of Melora's who needs your care; look to her, Lady."
She went off to join the other Amazons, who were burying Melora in the hill behind the water hole. Rohana turned to Jaelle and began to stroke her hair gently.
"Jaelle," she coaxed, "don't cry any more, darling. I know nothing can heal your grief, but you must not make yourself ill with crying. I swore that I would be a mother to you, always. Come, darling, look at me," she pleaded. "Don't you want to see your little brother? He needs someone to love and comfort him, too." She added, "You had your mother for twelve years, Jaelle; this poor little mite lost his mother before she had ever looked into his face. He has none but his sister; will you not come and help me to comfort him?"
Jaelle pulled away with a shudder of violent revulsion, her sobs rising again to a frenzy, and Rohana, in despair, let her go. Jaelle had not spoken since Melora's death; Rohana feared that in those last few moments of Melora's life, spent in terror and dread, in the fear of death, the child's mind had been roughly opened to the terrifying telepathic rapport, her latent Gift wakened in that dreadful instant of shock and agony.
No one could have blamed Melora for reaching out, with her last conscious thought, in the only way for which she still had strength-for one last, desperate attempt to touch her beloved child. But what had it done to Jaelle?
As if he sensed Rohana's desperate unease, the baby began to stir and fret and whimper inside her tunic again. She stroked him, thinking of the long leagues that still lay between them and Carthon, where she might at least find a wet-nurse for the child. For him it was a simple matter of survival; handled, fed, carefully cared for, he would survive. But what of Jaelle? She would not die, but what had that shock done to her? Only time would tell.
Perhaps the Amazons can do more for her than I. I am, in her mind, still part of that moment of terror and death. But perhaps they can comfort Jaelle and help her.
She must leave it to them, at least until Jaelle was calm and recovered her senses. After that-Rohana looked longingly at Jaelle's soft tangled hair, but dared not touch her-after that, only time would tell.