Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [185]
His eyes seemed pools of loneliness. For the first time, Rhodry realized, he was seeing into Evandar’s soul, and he found at last something human in that loneliness. After a moment, Evandar spoke again.
“It’s because of her that I began to love you. I want to know what she knows. Afterwards, I’ll go away, so I’ll understand what sorrow is, and the missing of someone.” “It’s not a thing most people want to know.” “But I do.” Evandar turned to him and laid a hand on his arm.
Rhodry hesitated, on the verge of shaking it off. Evandar looked at him steadily, his mouth a melancholy twist. For Gwin’s sake, Rhodry bent his head and kissed the sadness away. All round them the world turned sunny again, there on the island in the mist, and they lay down together in the soft grass.
As the time drew near for Elessario’s birth, Ocradda, who presided over all the childbirths in the dun, took charge of Carra. She brought the actual midwife up from the town, though, a stout gray woman named Polla, whose ready smile put Carra right at ease from the moment she walked into the lass’s bedchamber. Feeling very much in the way, Dallandra hovered in the curve of the wall while Polla had Carra lie down with her dresses hiked up. The midwife stared off into space while she ran gentle fingers over her patient’s swollen middle.
“Well, now,” Polla said at last. “It’s in a good position, head down and ready, sure enough. I’ll wager it drops soon.”
She was proved right not two days later. Dallandra was walking out in the ward when Jahdo came racing up to her.
“Oh, my lady, my lady, they did send me into town to fetch Polla. Lady Ocradda says you’d best come upstairs.”
Fearing trouble, Dallandra rushed into the broch and up the staircase, but she found Carra just beginning her labor. Her water had broken not long before, and now, dressed only in a thin shift, she crouched miserably on the birthing stool with Ocradda standing behind her, rubbing her shoulders and talking softly. When Dallandra came in, Carra looked up and groaned. Sweat beaded her forehead and upper lip.
“Does Dar know?” she gasped.
“Ye gods,” Ocradda said, “I forgot all about the prince!”
“I’ll go tell him, Carra,” Dallandra said. “And then I’ll be right back.”
Finding Dar turned out to be no easy matter. Some said he’d gone riding, others that he was down in the town or out in the stables. Dallandra walked all over the dun before she finally found the prince with Rhodry as the pair of them walked in the south gate. Dar was carrying blue ribands, looped round one hand, a present for his lady.
“Your Highness,” Dallandra said, “Carra’s time has come upon her. She’s upstairs with the women now.”
Daralanteriel turned dead white. Rhodry caught his arm.
“Come have a tankard with me, Your Highness. It’ll do to pass the time.”
When Dallandra got back to the chamber, she found things moving along. Ocradda had summoned a servant lass to clamber onto a chest and tie a stout rope from a beam in the ceiling, so that Carra would have support. Under the pierced stool, she’d spread a heap of rags covered by a clean, new cloth. Carra now sat astride with her shift hitched up round her waist and her face as pale as the linen. Over on the bed lay wraps for the baby, and a kettle of wash water stayed warm by the fire in the hearth.
“Your husband’s down in the great hall, waiting,” Dallandra said. “He looks terrified, I must say.”
“Good,” Carra muttered. “I wish he had to do this, not me.”
“I remember thinking the same thing,” Polla said. “All five times. Now breathe, lass, nice and steady. That’s right. Good deep breaths.”
There was nothing else to do but wait and suffer with Carra through contraction after contraction. Sometimes Polla would have her stand up to ease the pain, leaning into the midwife’s strong arms for support; at others, taking a few steps back and forth seemed to help her. Mostly she clung to the heavy knotted rope while she sat on the high stool and wept. After what seemed a very long