Death of the Dragon - Ed Greenwood [70]
Alusair stared in horror at the men dying all around her, some of them crying her name. Men she knew-some of them men she'd bedded or gotten drunk with-died in bloody horror. They were protecting her with their own bodies… and their lives.
21
Tanalasta woke feeling like someone was kicking her from the inside and discovered it was so. There was some little creature down in her abdomen, punching and pushing and trying to find its way out of her of belly. She wanted it out, too. Groggy and confused, she pushed herself up in bed and found herself looking down at a swollen belly that could not possibly be hers and saw little ripples working their way across the tight-stretched skin and tiny bulges rising where the thing was trying to push out through her skin.
"Guards!" she cried. "It's alive! In the name of the Flower, get it out!"
"Tanalasta, it's all right. Nothing is wrong." The voice was male, kindly, and vaguely familiar. A dark, work-weathered hand appeared from beside her and gently forced her head back to the pillow. "Stay down a moment. You've been asleep."
"Asleep?" Tanalasta asked, growing calmer but continuing to stare down at her belly. The thing looked more familiar now, though she still could not understand how it had grown so huge-or why it was jumping around so. "How long?"
"Not long." A weathered face with gray, close-cropped hair leaned into view, and Tanalasta recognized the man as her friend and spiritual mentor, Owden Foley. "Only a few days."
"Only a few?" Tanalasta gasped. She frowned at her swollen belly. "What happened?"
"Happened?" Owden asked, sounding as confused as she was. He followed her gaze, then chuckled heartily and laid a hand on her stomach. "Nothing bad. Your baby has learned to kick, that is all."
"My… baby?" Tanalasta repeated. She noticed the soreness in her breasts, and the scabs where the snake's fangs had pierced her skin, and everything that had happened came flooding back to her. She stared down at her writhing belly and suddenly felt tired and frightened and guilty. "In the name of the goddess! How could I have forgotten?"
"Forgotten, my dear?"
Tanalasta felt something wet and warm rolling down her cheeks, then realized she was crying. The fact surprised her, for she had considered herself long past tears-and far, far above the station where such luxuries could be permitted. She used the edge of a silk blanket to wipe the drops away, but they reappeared instantly, running down her face in such a torrent that they cascaded from her jaw and soaked the blanket.
A muted clanking drew Tanalasta's attention to her anteroom door, where Korvarr Rallyhorn and one other guard stood watching their crown princess sob like some delicate little girl who'd skinned her knees. Tanalasta wiped her eyes again and willed herself to stop crying, but her tears flowed all the more, unleashed by her embarrassment and a sudden appreciation of the risks she had been taking with the life of her unborn child.
Seeing that the princess's eye had fallen on him, Korvarr bowed cautiously. "The princess called?"
Tanalasta started to order him away, then realized that doing so would only compound Korvarr's concern and send a flurry of concerned whispers fluttering through the castle halls. She started to blubber an excuse about a bad dream but made it only as far as "I was having…" before she realized that reacting so strongly to a nightmare would make her appear even weaker. Tanalasta let the sentence trail off unfinished.
Korvarr's dark brows came together. "Yes, Highness?"
When Tanalasta could think of nothing to say, Owden came to her rescue by furling her blanket back and proudly pointing to her swollen stomach.
"The princess's child is quickening," Owden explained happily.
Korvarr looked rather confused and did a quick scan of the room, no doubt trying to fathom whether there was some secret meaning to the priest's words. When he found nothing amiss, he gave Tanalasta an uncomfortable smile.
"That is very good news, I'm sure." His