by Nhys Glover
“No, tonight I awoke in a cold sweat after dreaming, yet again, the dream I had throughout the month of his absence. In that nightmare he was being tortured and I could never reach him. Why do I continue to dream it when I have him home, lying next to me every night, alive and well? It makes no sense.”
“Just because a traumatic situation is over does not mean the effects of it are no longer felt. The event is like a stone falling into a pool. The ripples go on long after the stone has reached the bottom. It will get better, though, Marcus. And it will for him, too. You both just have to keep focusing on all the good that is in your life now.” I spread my hand out to encompass more than just the silent kitchen.
“Who would have thought a few years ago that we would have everything we ever wanted? We have the men we love in our beds, we have the ability to be ourselves and live our lives by our own terms. Well, almost. And we are happy. Are we not happy?”
He nodded and smiled through his tears. “Yes, my dearest wife, we are happy. Thanks to you and the loyalty of your people, who keep our secrets.”
I had laughed at that, even as I squirmed a little. It had not been all smooth sailing in the beginning. When I had sat Minerva, my nurse/handmaiden, and Tallia, the cook and force-of-nature, down to explain my unique living arrangements, they had both been horrified and rejected it out of hand. It took me standing my ground and being the Mistress before they gave in. And because of them the rest of the house slaves came to heel as well.
I had no idea if it was loyalty that kept them all keeping my secret or fear of my men, but no one had spoken of our unusual sleeping arrangements, then or now.
We had reached the atrium and the winter sunshine from above filled me with contentment. I saw Talos at the front door talking quietly to Phaedrus, and both Marcus and I smiled at the sight of them.
“He is still the most handsome man I have ever seen,” Marcus murmured softly. “That slave mark gives his face distinction. He is not just a pretty boy anymore; he is a warrior, complete with scars. That is how it appears to me, at least.”
I nodded and wrapped my arm around his narrow shoulders. He was now my brother, and the affection I felt for him overflowed me. “Yes, he is striking. Had I not four men already I might try to win him from you.”
The old Marcus returned, batting his lashes at me provocatively. “You could try, darling. But once a man has had this... “ He gestured down his body with a flourish. “He never looks elsewhere. The things I can do with my mouth!”
I blushed as Marcus had expected, and waddled faster, as if to escape the image in my head of what he might do with that mouth. It was too much information. Far too much.
“Accalia, how are you doing?” Talos asked immediately, a smug grin on his face.
The expression seemed to be designed to remind me what I had done with my mouth recently. To Talos and Typhon. But of course Talos could not have heard Marcus’ words, nor was he someone who enjoyed making me uncomfortable about our intimacies.
Though our bed-sport had become more and more limited the further into my pregnancy I went, we still all found ways to share pleasure. And, as odd as it seemed, the more whale-like I became, the more like a cat-in-heat I became. It was amazing any of us got any sleep.
“I am –”
“As grumpy as an old bear,” Marcus finished for me, fluttering his eyelashes at me again.
“Not an old bear,” Talos argued in amusement. “Never old.”
I punched him in the rock-hard muscle of his upper arm. “I am not a bear, either, I will have you know. And even if I am, you should try being this size! I swear, this babe is going to burst right out of my belly the way my skin is pulled so tight.”
“My son will be a giant among men,” Marcus crowed happily, leaning in so his head rested on Phaedrus’ shoulder.
They made a lovely couple, and the love they shared lifted my heart every time I saw it.
“Our daughter will be a giant among men,” I countered.
The three men laughed. We always referred to the child as ours. That meant it would have six fathers, no matter if it was a boy or a girl.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Talos, stroking the sleeve of his tunic, wishing I could be as open with my affection as Marcus was. But though the slaves kept the secret of my bed-chamber, I had thought it better to keep up appearances outside it. I was still a noble matron, after all.
“Just waiting for Orion to relieve me. He will have finished with his training session by now,” Talos answered, still smiling broadly.
We had agreed that they would not go back into the arena. Their desire for fame and glory had already been satisfied and they preferred to be at my side here at home. The Parthian threat had not been just an excuse to keep my men at my side. It still remained a possibility in the background of our lives. But with as many gladiators around me as I had, I felt as assured of my safety as any pregnant woman could be.
But because my men were still who they were, they could not content themselves with just being my bodyguards, so they had taken over many of the training duties in the barracks. And because of their fame, both the other doctores and the boys accepted them.
So, while one or more guarded me and Marcus, the others trained the boys. It kept them active and happy.
I felt a twinge in my belly and then warm liquid running down my inner thighs. Grabbing at my belly, I let out a stricken cry.
In the distance, I could see Orion loping toward us, his blonde hair shining in the winter sunshine. He looked so handsome and happy. Or he did until he realised something was wrong. Then he was racing up the track toward us.
Talos grabbed hold of my elbow, taking some of my great weight so I could remain upright.
“What is it?” he demanded urgently.
I looked down at the tiles and saw the puddle there. Embarrassment warred with fear and excitement. “My waters have broken. I am about to have our babe!”
It was like I had declared the enemy hordes were upon us. Men started running in all directions while Marcus gave orders in a high, panicked voice.
“Get the midwife. Get Minerva. Get the rest of the pack!” he cried, grabbing up my elbow as if he thought I was made of glass.
“I will get the midwife,” Talos decided, taking to his heels and rushing back down the hill as Orion raced up it. They did not pause to speak. What was there to say? This was the moment we had all been waiting for, for seven long months. This could be the end of our bliss. The end of my life.
I wanted to cry. For all I loved the babe who had grown in my belly, I feared it. Not because it was fearsome, in and of itself, but because Orion was right, I was small and any babe of his would be large. It would not be an easy birth. And even if I survived, if the child looked too much like its father we were all in trouble.
“Where is Ariaratus?” I demanded after one sharp pain had released its hold on me.
“The midwife will not be happy if you bring him in,” Marcus said. “But he is in the breeders’ compound... a newborn fell ill.” He did not seem to want to tell me this news, as if it would only serve to increase my own concerns. He was right.
“Why was I not called? Oh, never mind. I know you are all keeping me from my duties because of this!” I pointed at my huge bulge. “Leave him then... You are right, the midwife will not want him here.”
Orion reached my side and took charge. He almost carried me, lump that I was, all the way to our apartment and deposited me gently onto our monstrous bed.
Few people entered this apartment because the evidence that five people shared one bed was plain to see. It had been an exercise in engineering to have three beds made that could be connected together so three oversized feather mattresses could be placed on top of it. It was designed to be separated when visitors and their nosy slaves came calling. Which had happened several times since I came home and after Marcus joined me. His family seemed intent on making up for lost time now he was a respectable married man an
d father-to-be.
Now I worried what the midwife would say when she saw the massive piece of furniture.
“You should separate the beds,” I told Orion.
He frowned in annoyance. “Why? Will it make the delivery easier?”
I shook my head and then shrugged. Maybe it would be easier to get around one bed rather than three. Clambering up onto it to help me would be difficult for the aging woman.
“More room to move. Please Orion...” I offered, feeling another contraction starting up. His eyes grew wide with fear, and he held tight to my hand as I rode out the pain.
When it was over, he began shoving the beds apart, pushing the two outer beds against the walls and turning them into divans, complete with covers. The oversized linen pulled free and remained with the central bed on which I lay.
Minerva bustled in at that moment, saw what Orion was doing, and nodded her approval. “Best to keep your love life private. Tongues wag,” she scolded.
Although she had accepted our odd arrangement, she was not happy about it. And told me so as often as she felt the need.
“Oh, don’t be such a worry-wart, Minny dear. No one would believe our mistress had the stamina to satisfy four men,” Laria scolded her right back as she rushed into the room behind her.
My dear old nurse’s cheeks grew bright red.
“How is that babe?” Minerva asked me, ignoring the comment, and coming to my side to place a hand on my belly, which felt as tight as a drum now.
“I am not sure. Ready to be born?”
I felt another contraction coming on. They were coming fast. No more than a few minutes between them. I was not sure if this bode well or not. Most deliveries of first babes were long, drawn out affairs.
Orion finished his bed moving and rushed back to take my hand. I clamped onto it tightly as I rode out the pain, trying hard to tamp down the urge to push that had just begun. I had seen enough births, had helped with most of them, to know that pushing before it was time could tear up a woman’s insides. So I panted as I fought the need and clung to Orion as if he was my floating barrel in a stormy sea.
Phemia, the midwife, arrived a little later looking bloody and exhausted.
As she moved toward me, I drew back, throwing up my arms to keep her away. “No, you know how I feel about cleanliness. You cannot come to me until you are clean.”
Phemia grumbled in annoyance. “You didn’t give me much time for the niceties. I’ve been busy with a birth. I’d of called you in but there weren’t no time. And looks like you couldn’t have got there anyway. How long between pains?”
“A couple of minutes. No more. And my waters broke not long ago. This babe is coming quickly,” I answered.
The old hag nodded and hustled away. I breathed a sigh of relief to have her gone. The sight of her covered in another woman’s blood scared me more than I wanted to admit.
“Gods, Accalia, what can I do? You’re so big!” Orion said, his voice laced with panic.
I clung to his hand, needing him to be strong for me. “All mothers look big. I will be able to do this. Just be here for me, all right?”
He nodded and kissed my brow. “I will. I won’t leave you for a second.”
I laughed. “You can leave to relieve yourself. If this goes on, you will need to do that.”
“I will use a receptacle. I won’t leave you.”
He sounded desperate now. I hated to see my strong, in control lover reduced to this fearful being.
The rest of my pack arrived in the next moment, hovering in the doorway, looking as worried as Orion.
“The midwife will not be happy about you all being here,” I said as the next pain began to come on. I cried out as I fought the urge to push.
Asterius rushed to the other side of the bed and took up the hand Orion did not hold. Talos climbed on the bed behind me so he could rest my head in his lap. I groaned with amusement. This felt like one of our lovemaking moments. Only Typhon remained uninvolved.
Marcus arrived with the midwife in tow, cleaned up but looking no less exhausted. I would have laughed at their shocked expressions, but I was in no mood.
“They need to be here,” I snapped, getting in before Phemia voiced her disapproval. “If you need them to get out of the way at any point they will. But they aren’t leaving.”
“’Tis bad luck for men to be in a birthing room,” the midwife argued.
“I have been in enough birthing rooms to know that luck has nothing to do with it. They stay,” I said with all the power of my patrician birth behind me.
“We stay,” Marcus said, adding his weight to my decision, though I could see a sickly green tinge to his pale face.
Grumbling under her breath, the old hag ventured forward.
I needed to check the wellbeing of my babe, but with the contractions coming so fast I was not sure there would be time between them to sink into my quiet place to observe. I would try after the next pain.
And I did.
I had visited my babe many times in the last months. I would quieten my mind, seek out the Light and then look for it in my belly. I would see the lines of Light pulsing through the child as it grew. And though I could tell it was healthy, I was not able to identify the sex.
He or she was positioned well, I immediately determined, and seemed anxious to leave the only world it had ever known. I wondered if a babe feared birth as much as a person feared death. To me, they were both transitions into new worlds and usually involved pain and struggle.
But my babe was not struggling, I was happy to realise.
Opening my eyes, I saw Orion staring at me intently, his bright blue eyes filled with concern. I smiled and nodded to him.
“All is well, my love. All is well,” I told him.
But the fear in his eyes did not abate.
Turning away, he asked the midwife, “It did not go well, the birth you just attended?”
She shook her head. “One of the field slaves. A little thing like the Mistress here. The boy was early but should live. The mother bled to death. It happens.”
I shivered, knowing what question Orion would ask next.
“Was the babe too big?” he asked.
The woman shook her head. “No... No. As I said, it came early, and both parents were small people. Or that is the gossip. The father denied it was his. And maybe he was right. She was not wed to him and she did not confine herself to one man... or boy.”
From the way she lifted an eyebrow, I wondered if Phemia meant the woman had been one of the women who went to the barracks. It was clear what she thought of the dead girl. And probably me. Because I, too, did not confine myself to one man.
“Watch yourself, woman,” Asterius growled.
Fear danced in the woman’s eyes then.
I had never liked her, as she resented my skills and held to her territory to the detriment of the women she tended. And no matter how often Ariaratus or I insisted she stay clean and keep everything she used during the birth sanitary, she was slovenly. It did not surprise me that this latest woman had died without me being called in to help.
Another contraction drove all else from my mind. The hag pulled back my gown and spread my legs. Marcus looked sick and glanced away. Phaedrus, who had come up behind him, patted his shoulder.
Maybe having everyone here was a mistake.
But as Typhon stood watching intently behind the midwife, and the rest of my men supported me, I had no desire to send them away. We were one pack. This birth was important to all of us.
Time lost all meaning after that. I screamed with each contraction and rested between them, though the chance to rest grew shorter and shorter.
The babe moved down and the midwife told me to push. I did so gratefully. Holding back was far worse than the actual pain.
“I can see the head!” Typhon cried, looking up at us with excitement in his eyes. “How is that possible?”
I laughed as his expression shifted to one of amazement. Seeing a
babe’s head cresting was truly an amazing sight. The way a mother’s body expanded to accommodate the passage of her babe never ceased to astonish.
“It is very possible. What is also possible, and I know you are worrying about right now, is that my body will go back to the way it was.”
Typhon looked away, embarrassed. I laughed tiredly before I cried out once more. The pushing took every thought from my head.
“The head is out... and now the shoulders...” Typhon informed us. He had forgotten his concerns and was transfixed by the birth once more.
I looked at Orion, who was sweating as much as I was, even though the room was quite chilly. When he noticed, he leaned in and kissed my forehead.
“How big is it?” he asked Typhon.
“For the place it came from... big!” Typhon replied. “I don’t know how it can happen.”
I cried out, began pushing again, and felt a sudden whoosh followed by a sense of freedom and relief.
The midwife held up a bloody, wriggling mound still attached to me by a pulsing cord.
“It’s a girl!” Typhon exclaimed in triumph, as if he was the one who had done all the work.
Phemia placed the babe on my chest before busying herself with the final stage, the delivery of the afterbirth. I barely noticed. All my focus was on the mewling, bloody lump on my chest.
I disentangled my hands from my lovers’ so I could touch the tiny being. She was hairless and bigger than most babes I had seen. It amazed me that I had given birth to such a giantess.
“She’s got all her fingers and toes,” Asterius pointed out dazedly.
“That’s good,” I said with a smug, tired smile.
My daughter was taken from me so she could be washed and wrapped tight for warmth. I knew it had to be done, but I regretted her absence immediately. For the last nine months she and I had shared the same body. Now... Now she was gone. It hurt.
But tiredness was overtaking me. Although the birth had been comparatively fast and problem-free, it had taken its toll.
“Is... Is she bleeding too much?” Orion asked as I drifted off. “Will she live?”
