The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [76]
“I thought I’d come pay my respects,” Val said, her voice hesitant. “And see if you needed anything.”
“I don’t, my thanks.”
“Come see the pretty little lass.” Grallezar, who knew nothing of Val’s murdered lover, spoke cheerfully. Her voice broke the spell motherhood had worked on Dalla’s mind.
“Please do,” Dallandra said. “I suppose she’s pretty, anyway. She’s still awfully red and squashed.”
Valandario laughed, a normal soft chuckle, and walked over to the crib. As she stood looking down at the baby, Dari woke, yawned, and briefly opened her murky blue eyes. Val went tense and leaned a little closer. Dallandra felt that Val was looking through those eyes to the soul who inhabited this little body, so fragile and new. All at once Val smiled, but tears glistened in her eyes. Dari yawned again and fell back asleep.
“She’s very pretty indeed,” Val said, then spoke in Elvish. “And not at all the fellow of whom we spoke, not any longer. Dalla, I know that the core of the soul’s the same, but by the Goddesses, she’s not him.”
“Yes, that’s very true,” Dalla said. “And this time, I’ll make sure she doesn’t suffer the way he did.”
Grallezar was looking back and forth between them, her mouth a twist of annoyance at being shut out of their talk.
“I’m sorry,” Val said to her in Deverrian. “I forget that Elvish is so hard to learn. I keep thinking that you know it.”
“Not well enough, truly.” Grallezar smiled again. “It be a complicated affair, your language. Not all of us have a hundred years or so to spend upon the learning of it.”
They all shared a laugh. Dallandra would have explained, but the door opened again—Branna, come for a look at the baby, followed by Carra and her daughter, Elessi. They stayed but a little while to chat, then left, taking Val with them, when Galla, her daughter Adranna, and her granddaughter Trenni came up for a look. Galla brought a small clay pot of honey to keep the new mother’s strength up, or so she said.
“I’ll mix somewhat of that with boiled milk,” Grallezar told her. “My thanks.”
Galla handed Grallezar the pot, but she did it at arm’s length, as if offering a tidbit to a dog who might bite. “Now, Dallandra,” Galla went on, “I want you to know that you’re welcome to stay here for your lying in. Travel could be dangerous.”
“My humble thanks, my lady,” Dallandra said. “But I’ll be up and about soon.”
“Is that wise?” Adranna put in.
“My folk heal differently from yours,” Dallandra said. “If we lie in after childbirth, the blood pools and makes our legs swell.”
At that, they stopped fussing. Dallandra got out of bed to demonstrate and walked back and forth across the chamber a few times. When they left, she sat up to nurse her daughter and then was glad enough to lie down again.
Once Dallandra’s baby had arrived safely, the first person that Branna sought out in the dun was Midda, her old nurse, whom she found up in the chamber shared by Adranna’s children. In a shaft of light from a window, Midda sat mending one of Trenni’s dresses. When Branna walked in, Midda dropped her sewing and got up. She rushed to Branna’s open arms.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you safe!” Midda stepped back, her hands on Branna’s shoulders, and surveyed her former charge. “You look well, but why are you wearing lad’s clothing?”
“It’s not lad’s clothing. All the Westfolk women dress like this.”
Midda snorted and pursed her lips.
“But how are you?” Branna said. “Adranna told me that she’d taken you as a nurse for the children.”
“For the child, rather, Trenni that is. They’ll be sending Matto off to be a page soon.”
“Well, it’s time for him to start his training, truly.”
Branna looked around