92 - I Will See My Child Born

Shashi nodded, climbing to her feet and pacing next to her friend. “Walking helps,” she said.

“Oh good. You’ve done this twice before.”

“Yes, my sister. You can do this.” The servants brought the things that Mother had demanded and finally, mercifully, withdrew, taking their noise with them. The bees came down from the ceiling the moment the doors were closed and there were more of them.  The dragonflies came out of the curtains, the ants had never moved.

“My daughter.” Mother said quietly. “They know.” She held out a glass of juice to Mariush. “Have some juice and let me feel how the baby sits. It looks to me as though you have some hours to go before she’s born.”

“She?” Mariush turned toward Mother Thriti. “You know?”

“I have a feeling, sweetheart. I could be wrong.”

“Mother...” the next contraction stopped her, panting. “Are you sure His Radiance is safe and all right?”

“Yes, my dear. I caught the dart, Shashi redirected the neck cutter disguised as a serving tray, and I’m sure the physician will put the old man to bed to recover from his exertion.” She rose and came to settle her solid old hands on Mariush’s belly. “Ah, yes.”

“Exertion?”

“He pulled a sword, my dear. Cut the man behind the knee and dropped him so the bees could take him. Then he sat down again. Not bad for a man his age.” She directed Mariush to sit down. “You should get as much rest as you can. You are in for a long time. Are you sleepy?”

“MOTHER!”

“Now, now, I know an endeavouring woman is allowed all, but really.” She put her arms around Mariush and the labouring young woman put her forehead into Thriti’s shoulder.

Shashi sipped her own juice. “We’ll be here for you, sister. And we have other sisters to keep watch over him. Now, Mariush you have some of the bees' food to keep your strength up. You know the little sisters will be here for you. He sent to to you.”

The ceiling of Mariush’s closed room was humming and glistening by now and she looked up and wiped a tear out of the corner of her eyes.

“He did? He did. Mother. Why could I not have been his Zardukar when he was younger?”

“Child. Child. You were not yet born. But we are here. And you need to go into yourself. The Immutable is with you. He is resting and when he is recovered he will be here in spirit.”

Shashi smiled. “If he is recovered enough he will be here in body, Mariush. You know he will. No one will know, but us.”

Mariush rose and paced again, pushing her sleeves up, lifting the hem, kicking it out as she walked. “Oh! This horrible dress!”

“Take it off, my dear, if you need. All is allowed an endeavouring woman.” Mother smiled. “Shashi, why don’t you and I sing?”

She laughed. “Mother I don’t have the space to sing!”

“So... practice, my dear.”

Mariush drew her dress up over her head and flung it on the bed, next to the towels and the basins, the purged thread and the cleansed scissors and all the things necessary for the birth of a baby. Then she went back to pacing as Mother raised her voice in one of the traditional Lainz birthing songs and Shashi joined her.  For all that she protested, she had a sweet singing voice.

**

In the High Bedroom, Diryish propped himself up against his pillows, against his physician’s hands. “Let me up, man! I can breathe better upright!”

“Of course, My Immutable. Let me adjust your pillows.”

The bees ringed Diryish’s wrists and along his collarbone and the physician made no move to brush them away. “I’m fine, thank you. Thank you. I will speak to my Rasheem Emir-al tomorrow, not today, my physician, thank you.”

He accepted a glass of honey’d raghnall juice, still bitter enough to make him grimace. He choked back a memory of explaining to Ty protesting a medicine... why do all medicines that are good for you have to hurt or taste bad?  

Little boy, the physician wants you to get better as fast as possible. If the medicines are sweet we might not struggle to get away from them so hard. Rest in your tomb my little great grandson. You are beyond bitter medicine.

From somewhere below, in the lesser rooms, women’s birthing songs rose. The early ones to hearten a young mother. To encourage a first time birth. Mariush. Be strong, young woman. Be strong for your Emir-al, safe in the northcountry struggling to bring an heir home to Lainz. Dukir... don’t fail me, old friend, or you are going to have to defend the baby being born today. He sighed and closed his eyes. I need to find out the subtle assassin who has been stalking my family and the blatant one who tried to kill me today. I do not think they are the same man. But I do not want to send my little prince or princess into hiding, set up a fairy story scenario. Too many people die during the reign of the ‘Evil Emperor’ before the true Heir can grow up. Does anyone notice that the storytellers never focus on the people suffering in those kinds of stories?

The bees staggered up off his wrists and neck and another necklace and bracelets of workers descended on him. You can only do so much, little sisters. Thank you. He dismissed his attendants and lay in the humming quiet, listening to Mother--he recognized her and Shashi’s voices – sing.

From the songs she has some time to go. I will sleep and then I will go down the secret ways and see my child born