“And you have come without Bain.” Nurias’ raised eyebrows emphasized the unspoken question, “Why?”
“He was unable to come. And also we did not want to arouse speculation.” Phaera found her voice. “Kort knows, as you see. He has sworn to tell no one.”
Nurias acknowledged Kort with a quick nod before turning her attention back to Phaera. “Good.” She indicated her two worn chairs and reached for some branches of dried herbs hanging from her rafters. “Raspberry and…” She eyed Kort. “Chamomile, I think, for both of you.”
As Nurias bustled about making the tea and setting out a pot of honey to sweeten it, she kept up a light banter.
She is trying to put me at ease. Phaera smiled inwardly. And it is working. I do feel calmer already. Aloud she quipped, “So I am special. I get two kinds.”
Nurias chuckled. “I think Kort has no use for raspberry leaf tea.”
She turned and handed them each a steaming mug. “Add your own honey.”
She pulled a stool out from under the table and settled herself facing them but directed her question to Phaera. “Do you wish that Kort remain as we talk?”
Phaera stiffened again. “I had not given it any thought yet.”
“I thought you might not.” She patted Phaera’s knee. “May I suggest that he remain? It will have two benefits. As Bain must attend to other duties you will have someone near you with whom you can discuss things without wondering how much he understands…” As she spoke she leaned closer and took both of Phaera’s hands in hers. “And it will be useful for Kort’s training.”
Phaera studied Kort. Can I allow him to see me at my weakest? Will he understand? She thought for a moment about all Kort had experienced; his loyalty, and his friendship, all the pain he had been through. And she had certainly seen Kort at his weakest.
“Kort may stay. He has proven his loyalty many times over. I trust him.” She grimaced. “Though it will not be easy for me to…”
She felt Nurias give her hands a reassuring squeeze. “Good. You have never shied from what is best. And Kort will be a good support. He will be nearer at those moments when your fear threatens to overwhelm you. Those times may come when you least expect them.”
Kort spoke for the first time. “You may rely on me … always.” He leaned his lanky frame slightly forward, his face alert.
When Nurias released Phaera’s hands and sat back so she could see both of them the warmth and reassurance lingered.
“Kort, you will listen. Do not say anything.” She turned her attention back to Phaera. “Tell me what happened. I know you would not come here so suddenly without cause.”
Nurias assumed what Phaera liked to call her listening pose, relaxed, attentive, and receptive, but with an underlying air of meditation. Phaera knew she would remember everything.
When Phaera finished Nurias once again took her hands.
“Now that you have accepted the truth of your condition you will be better prepared to deal with the fear. The worst is, perhaps, already over.”
Phaera could only give a timid nod.
Nurias gave her hands a small shake and a squeeze. “You will not take this journey alone. You have three people who understand and will comfort you. I promise to see you regularly.” She let go Phaera’s hands and sat back on her stool.
“Here is the first thing you must remember. How many births have you assisted with?”
The question took Phaera by surprise. “Why, I don’t know. Let me think … Perhaps near thirty.”
Nurias nodded. “Yes, that seems likely. Now tell me how many of those mothers – or their babes – have died.”
“Two. It was terrible.”
“Why did they die?”
“One had the cord around its neck. I could not remove it in time to save the child. The mother lived, though.” Phaera took a deep breath. “The other was because the afterbirth sat too low, blocking the birth canal. The mother bled to death and I could not save the babe.”
“Excellent.” Nurias gave a satisfied nod. “Many healers have much poorer records. Your training must have been very thorough.”
Nurias looked like she was waiting for Phaera to say something. When Phaera remained silent she went on. “I have delivered over 300 babes in my life as a healer. Some have been difficult, such as those in the wrong position that have to be turned before the mother pushes. But I have lost only five babes and four mothers. You were present during a very difficult birth. You know that even then both mother and child survived.” Nurias bent forward and again took Phaera’s hands in her own, holding her gaze intently.
“This is what you must remember. This is what you must continue to tell yourself. This is how unlikely it is that you will not survive a birth, or that your child will not.”
She looked at Kort. “And this is what you must remind Phaera of.”
She let go of Phaera’s hands again, facing Kort and Phaera in turn. “Do you understand?”
Phaera glanced at Kort and saw him nod before adding her own. “Thank you, Nurias. It does help to know that. I know there are other midwives and healers with much poorer success.”
Nurias smiled at her. “There is another advantage you have. As a good healer and midwife yourself you will know what to expect and what to do.”
Kort piped up. “That is true Milady. And I will continue to learn.”
The rest of the evening was spent in comfortable chatter. Phaera slept well that night, perhaps due to the valerian tea Nurias gave her. She left for home the next morning feeling much more relaxed.
Chapter Forty-Seven
AN UNEXPECTED BIRTH
“Milady, come quickly. You are needed in the kitchens.” The scullery maid stopped just inside the door of the apothecary, heaving to catch her breath, eyes wide with fright, and clearly distraught.
Phaera wasted no time. Even as she grabbed her basket she asked, “What is amiss? Has someone cut herself?”
“No, Milady. But …”
Phaera shooed her out with one hand as she pulled the door shut behind her. “Well, what is it then? Tell me so that I may be prepared.”
“It is Nisha, Milady … she … she is giving birth.”
Phaera frowned, trying to picture the girl. “Is Nisha the plump one with dark hair?”
The girl nodded, still looking frightened.
“She has not been to see me. I did not know she was expecting a child.”
“No Milady. She told no one.”
They had reached the door to the dungeons. Phaera unlocked it and pushed it open, carefully locking it again before commenting further.
“Then she will be very frightened.”
“Yes, Milady.” The girl scurried after her as she strode the long hallway and mounted the steps to the hall that led into the kitchens. Before she reached the entrance she recognized Velna’s voice.
“Stop gawking and get back to work. All of you.”
Phaera followed the direction of the voice as she entered. There, at the back, in a corner against the wall, Cook stood bent over, barring Phaera’s view from what must be the girl in labour. She hurried over.
“Thank you, Velna.”
Velna looked over her shoulder with a start, then straightened and backed out of the way. “Milady, I am so relieved you have come.”
Phaera barely heard. She assessed the wretch huddled on the stool in front of her. A spasm took her and she cried out. Phaera waited until it passed.
“You are Nisha, I believe?”
The terrified girl, likely no more than fourteen nodded. Before Phaera could ask anything more she wailed, “I will be sacked!”
So. That is why she has not seen me.
“We will speak of that later. Now we need to help you bring that babe forth. Please stand and …” Phaera looked around until she spotted a table behind her. To Velna she said, “Clear that table. Then find clean cloths, hot water, and a small blanket to wrap the babe in.” She did not wait to see if her orders would b
e obeyed.
“Now, Nisha, I will help you up onto the table. Lie down. I must examine you to see how far along you are, and to check the babe’s heartbeat.” She placed a supportive arm under Nisha’s. “You can walk. Do not fear. It will be well.”
The girl calmed at her words enough to obey. By the time Phaera had helped her onto the table Velna had returned with the hot water, followed by a kitchen maid carrying cloths and a blanket.
I have never seen a girl so terrified while in labour. She is too afraid of what will happen to her after. This will not be an easy birth.
“Nisha, I want you to take slow deep breaths. Count to five with each one in, and six with each one out. Do you understand?” She took the girl’s chin and made her look at her. “With me, now … one, two, three, four, five – yes, that’s it – one, two, three, four, five, six.” Phaera counted aloud with the girl for three more breaths, feeling her begin to calm as she concentrated on counting.
“Good, now keep doing that while I see how things are.” Phaera spotted another scullery maid, hand still over her scrub brush, eyes wide. “You, come stand at her head and if Nisha falters, count with her again.”
The child’s eyes grew even rounder but she hurried over to obey.
Phaera nodded encouragingly. “Here, take Nisha’s hand. Count aloud with her, quietly.” She turned her attention back to Nisha.
“Your waters have broken.” Phaera looked over her shoulder at Velna, who stood behind her, attempting to get a better view. “How long since her waters broke.”
“Not long Milady. I sent the maid as soon as Nisha cried out and I saw the wet.”
“Phaera lifted Nisha’s skirts above her waist and placed her listening horn on the taught belly, the other end to her ear. Good, the beat is strong and steady. Aloud she said, “Your babe is strong. What do want? A son or a daughter?”
Instead of answering Nisha let out another anguished wail before clutching the edge of the table, half sitting as another contraction overtook her. Phaera watched the ripples under the girl’s skin, waiting until it passed.
“Keep counting, Nisha. Good. Now spread your knees apart so I can see.”
Phaera shook her head in exasperation. The girl had clearly not bathed in a while. She grabbed a cloth, dipped it into the bowl of water and wrung it out, then carefully bathed the girl’s nether region. The water was soon soiled.
“More water. Quickly.”
Another contraction passed by the time the fresh bowl arrived. Phaera repeated the washing. When she had finished she called for yet another bowl of fresh water. After washing her hands again, she spread the girl’s knees wide and gently probed the opening of the birth canal. She removed her hand when another contraction hit and looked up at the girl with a reassuring smile. “All is well. The head is in position and you are opening nicely. Two fingers already.”
As labour progressed Phaera coached the girl to breathe between contractions, and slowly got her to answer some questions, keeping up some reassuring chat in between. The girl panicked again when it came time to push.
“No, it will not be safe here. No, no, nooooo…”
“Yes, your child will be safe and so will you. But you must do as I say.” As the first urge to push overtook the girl Phaera had Velna lift her shoulders. With no birthing stool available that she could sit on Phaera had her shifted to the end of the table where she could catch the babe.
“Small quick breaths, Nisha. No. Hold back as much as you can. There, good girl. I see the crown. Your babe has a lot of hair.”
As the next contraction hit the girl began to grunt with effort. “Yes, Nisha, now is the time to push. Do not clamp your teeth. Make as much noise as you like – but push … push ….”
Nisha let out a long guttural wail as the head emerged.
“Your babe is almost here. One or two more pushes.”
Nisha gave a long, almost desperate push on the next spasm and the babe slid into Phaera’s waiting hands.
“You have a strong daughter, Nisha.”
When the cold air hit the little body the babe erupted with a lusty cry. Phaera let out a relieved sigh, and heard that the entire kitchen joined in. She set the babe on the waiting blanket, checked her breathing and made sure her mouth and nose were clear. She watched until the cord stopped pulsing before tying and cutting it. Then she wrapped the child snuggly and laid her onto Nisha’s chest.
As she did so Phaera saw the girl’s belly contract again and caught the afterbirth. Nisha had a small tear but did not need stitching. But if the mother was not to die of festering she would need strict instructions on how to keep the area clean. And decisions would need to be made about the pair’s future. Phaera knew they could not be made by her alone. For now, Phaera ordered a cot to be prepared in the small closet where she had set up her first apothecary. It was just large enough and offered the pair warmth and privacy until better arrangements could be made.
Once they were comfortable and Phaera had shown Nisha how to get the babe onto her breast to nurse she gathered her basket together and made to leave. On her way out she gestured to Velna to follow her into the hall.
“Did you know of this?”
“I suspected, Milady, but she hid it well. I suspect she feared she would be sacked as soon as I found out.”
“So you did not ask her?”
“No, Milady. I thought it best to let her have her secret as long as possible. Here she was warm and fed. She has no family and there seems to be no man about to care for her. If I knew, I would have been obliged to tell Lady Flor or Lord Makin and I did not know what they would do.”
“That was well done. But I wish you had told me. Something could have been arranged and this would have been much easier.”
Cook looked chagrined. “Forgive me, Milady. I was afraid. What will happen to them, now?”
“I will need to discuss that with Lord Makin, Lady Flor, and Lord Bain. But you may be sure they will not be sent out the door with no means to live.”
“Thank you, Milady. Nisha is not a bad girl. She is not very bright and I suspect she was easy to take advantage of.”
“Then I must make sure she gets the advice she needs to care for herself and her child.”
Cook’s shoulders relaxed and she gave Phaera a relieved look. “Thank you, Milady. I ought to have told you of my suspicions.”
“It is done. Take care of them until tomorrow. I will return to check on them both and hopefully I will have a plan.”
“I will, Milady.”
With a nod Phaera turned and walked away. The child was so frightened. And yet both are well. Will I do as well? I must. Phaera shook herself. I must.
Chapter Forty-Eight
BAIN’S ENVY
Once Kort had been given the position of confidant and helpmeet during her pregnancy Phaera included him, as a matter of course, in their evening meals with Lord Makin and Lady Flor. She had not asked permission. Bain understood that to her it simply made sense. Kort was a lord’s son and thus merited a place as guest at their table even under normal circumstances.
Bain, while he could find no reasonable objection, and while he agreed with Phaera’s unquestioning acceptance of Kort as her equal, found the arrangement rankled him. For several weeks he pushed his growing irritation away, ignoring his increasing unease. So when Phaera confronted him her question came as a shock.
“My love, something is amiss and I wish you would speak to me about it. You have grown increasingly silent, even when we are alone. What is it that bothers you so? I thought we had promised we would not keep anything from each other.”
“You imagine it. There is nothing. I am pleased that you are feeling so well and have been able to continue your work.” But there is something. She is right. Why do I not know what it is?
Phaera echoed his thoughts, though they belied his words. “There is something. I feel it, a hesitation, a distance that was not there before. And you have not asked about how our child grows, or
how I am faring for several days.”
“You have Kort, and even my mother, for that.”
And there it was. The thing he had pushed away. He could hide from it no longer.
He watched Phaera’s face change from one of concern to shock. She looked as though she had been slapped, though she said nothing.
Could she not understand that he, too, was struggling with the new revelation? Why not? His thoughts tumbled over each other, leaving him unable to grasp any one of them long enough to form a response.
After a few moments Phaera said, in a low voice heavy with sadness, “Bain, we need to talk this out.”
Bain let his shoulders slump and gave a weary nod. “It seems we do,” and turned to sit in one of the two chairs in Phaera’s chamber.
Phaera took the one opposite, pulling it close enough so that their knees almost touched. She watched him with an intensity he had never received from her before. It was a look she reserved for her patients when they had something seriously wrong with them or when they resisted her instructions. The directness of her gaze made him squirm.
She said nothing for a time. Finally, she leaned slightly forward. “Speak to me. What has Kort to do with anything and why does that trouble you so?”
Bain fought back a flare of anger and clenched his fists in his lap to control it. What has Kort to do with it? Kort, who spends all day with you, even our evening meal together, who knows your most intimate fears, who supports you through the growth of our child - my child - while I can do no more than stand by and hope for the best. Who is there to listen to MY fears? I fear I will lose you, lose our child, lose everything I hold dear. It is Kort who comforts you. That is my place. Do you not see that?
Bain said none of those things aloud. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice seemed to say, ”Stop. Think. This is like facing a battle. Use reason. Do not act rashly.”
Instead he took a deep breath and said, as calmly as he could muster, “I need a few moments to think.”
Altered Destinies- Earth Reborn Page 27
