The Treasure_ A Novel - Iris Johansen [72]
“It’s not nonsense. Many women have this affliction when they’re with child. And I never asked you to—”
“Shh, I know.” She gently brushed the hair back from Selene’s temple. “It’s a wonder that women have more than one child if this is the way of it.”
“Don’t be foolish. How would they keep from it?”
“There are ways.”
The illness was subsiding at last. She sat back on her heels and drew a deep breath. “You’ve never had a child?”
Layla shook her head. “And probably just as well. As you see, I’m not overgentle.”
Selene sensed a hint of pain beneath the carelessness of Layla’s words and said impulsively, “I think you’d be a very good mother.”
Layla’s eyes widened in surprise.
“You would,” Selene insisted. “You’re clever and strong and protective.”
“That would make me a good father, not a good mother,” Layla said dryly.
“Well, who is to say there must be softness. Besides, I believe you could be . . . gentle.”
“You near choked on that word.” Layla took the wet cloth and dabbed awkwardly at Selene’s lips. “And you clearly must be dizzy from your sickness. It’s time you went back to your pallet.”
“I’m not dizzy.” But she was weak as the babe she was carrying, she realized as she struggled to her feet. “I don’t have to sleep all morning. Just a small nap. I know we should not linger.”
Layla nodded as she stood up. “No, there are too many people at Sienbara who knew Tarik had a ship in Genoa. Nasim would have little trouble finding someone who would tell him about it, and Genoa is a small place.”
“But we’re no longer in Genoa.”
“But Mario is still there, and he has a tongue as loose as his wits.”
“You think he would tell him our direction?”
“With a little persuasion.” She shrugged. “Or maybe not so little.”
“Then we should leave at once.”
“And have you fall off your horse and break something? Then we would truly have a problem. A few hours will make no difference. We’ll make it up by stopping later for the night.”
Selene was not so sure it wouldn’t make a difference. “Just a small nap.”
“We will see.” She grasped Selene’s arm and gently pushed her toward the fire. “Leave it to me. I feel the need of a nap myself after witnessing the disgusting spectacle you made of yourself.”
“I did not ask—” Protests to Layla were like rain beating against a stone wall. Besides, she was beginning to learn she should pay more attention to Layla’s actions than anything she said. Her words might be harsh and completely lacking in sympathy, but during the last days she had been constantly at her side, unobtrusively watching, helping. Perhaps Layla could be no other way after the life she had lived. Selene could understand the need to build walls. She had erected high ones of her own. “I . . . thank you for trying to help me.”
Layla looked at her in surprise. “Then I’m no longer cruel and unnatural?”
“Yes, but I’ve decided you cannot help it and should be forgiven.” She smiled faintly. “But I give warning I may not feel the same when you rant at me tomorrow morning.”
“Then you should try to control this sickness. It annoys me.”
“Tell that to the babe.” She had reached her pallet and sank to her knees. “I seem to have no control of it. My sister’s illness went away after the fourth month.”
“It should not be so. It’s not fair that women must suffer like this. If I were with child, I’d find a cure that would prevent this idiotic—”
“I’m sure you would.” Selene nestled beneath her blankets and closed her eyes. “By all means, seek out a preventive. But quietly.” She yawned. “Very quietly. I need more sleep.”
“Oh, very well.” She heard Layla nestling into her own blankets across the fire. “But you should not give in to this. It insults our bodies to have to undergo this trial. We should find a way for women not to have to suffer to give birth.”
“Fine, you find a way. I need to nap.”
“So it goes away in four months. What if you have another child? Would you have to go through this again? It would not be—”
“Layla.”
Layla sighed and then fell silent.
Selene was almost