by D. H. Aire
Chapter
18
Juels filled a bucket with hot water and carried it across the room as Balfour said, “Fri’il, don’t push. The cord’s knotted tight around your daughter’s ankle. That’s what is delaying the delivery.”
“Bal,” Cle’or said, gesturing Juels to pour the water into the basin, “do something.”
“Excuse us, Fri’il,” he ushered Cle’or to the corner and whispered, “Do something? She’s not in any pain… and you and I both know she should be.”
“But, I thought you were doing that. You did for Me’oh.”
“I’m not… which has me doubly worried.”
Juels swallowed overhearing that as Fri’il took a deep breath, “Child, thank you.”
The girl took her hand and felt a powerful sense of calm. She glanced down at Fri’il’s ankle and saw something glowing. ‘There is nothing here,’ a voice whispered as time came to a pause.
Juels frowned sensing a tingle of electricity in the air. Fri’il abruptly squeezed her hand as a contraction hit, then she giggled, “Bal, it, ahh tickles…”
The elfblood healer frowned as he ushered the urchin girl away. Then he staggered as Je’orj’s mind-shout rammed home. Cle’or even winced, half catching Balfour as the backlash of that call nearly brought her to her knees as well.
Juels glanced back through the doorway seeing the matching anklet Cle’or always wore flaring.
:Je’orj?:
:I’ll be there soon… Ouch.:
:Je’orj?:
:Of all the… Bal, just let me see.
Balfour blinked, focused. It was as if Fri’il’s body were suddenly transparent to him and it felt as if he weren’t alone in his own head. :Focus,: Je’orj urged him.
The umbilical cord was tightly wound around the baby’s leg, pulling her back against every contraction. :Heartbeat from mother and child are strong, but the infant is clearly in distress, George,: Staff stated through their rapport.
‘I can’t untie it,’ Balfour said, unable to do ought but sever the cord, which at the moment was not safe.
:We’ll need to create a forceps maneuver to free the child and cut the cord psychically at the same time,: George offered from Staff’s medical data bank, then muttered, “Ouch.”
‘Je’orj, what are you doing?’
‘Trying to help you… or have you mastered doing it all, my friend?
‘This is Fri’il and your daughter we’re talking about.’
“And I’m Highmage today,” George muttered, leaning on his glowing staff in the bouncing coach’s seat.
Aaprin sought to steady him as Gallen and the boys watched, clearly worried. His eyes widened at the touch which abruptly threw him into rapport. :Aaprin? Fine, welcome to the party,: Staff said. :Monitor the baby’s vital signs… no, like this. Balfour, you are catcher, leaving George to handle the severing of the cord.:
A sequence played out in Aaprin’s mind, seeing the plan. “Why’s she giggling?” the apprentice muttered.
Gallen stared and wondered aloud, “Who’s giggling?”
Revit grinned, “At a guess, sounds like Fri’il having some fun.”
“Fun?” Gallen replied. “You figure she’s giving birth and it’s fun?”
Chuckling, Terus said, “What would you know about that?”
Gallen sat back and replied, “I know enough that she shouldn’t be giggling.”
Se’and would have paced, except she’d just suffered a dizzy spell, and was seated at the kitchen table. Between Me’oh, Andre, and the assorted host of dwarves, most of whom were supposed to be guarding the place but, instead, seemed inordinately focused on her and trying to ascertain from Juels exactly what was going on. Se’and was desperately hoping the Conclave was ended.
What mattered now was the birth of the baby and the hopes for the House. “Je’orj, where are you?”
Verny would have snapped the whip, but he was too busy holding on as the horse took another turn as they came in sight of the household walls. “Oh, no… OPEN THE GATE!”
Light blazed from the coach’s windows as Revit stuck his head out to see what the shouting was about. Saw and suddenly cried, “By the Empress!”
“What?” Terus stuck out his head, saw the dwarves on the wall crying out and pulled Revit back inside. “Hold on tight! The gate’s barred!”
“When I say, push,” Balfour muttered as Cle’or helped Fri’il half sit, “push with all your might.”
Fri’il frowned, then started to giggle.
Cle’or shook her head, “Bal!”
Canting his head, he shouted, “Push!”
Among the typical mounts in the barn the two rather large horses often mistaken for war horses stabled in the rear of Lord Je’orj’s and Balfour’s manor, suddenly stepped back in their stalls. Then they came forward and looked at each other, nodded, and almost in unison shoved open their stall doors with all their might. Wood splintered and the doors flew wide, allowing them to sprint into the courtyard. The pair paused.
There was a great deal of shouting and excitement in the house, but that was not what disturbed them. The dwarven guards were clustering around the house.
Soon enough they bolted around the property, spun about as the Imperial Guards cried out, “Hey!”
As one they kicked out with their hind legs again and again. The brace holding the stout wooden gate shut broke. The hinges were knocked free. The gate crashed outward and the horses bolted to the side.
The guards raced forward, stared a moment, then shouted, “By the
Empress! Run!”
That’s when Verny decided the life of a coachman wasn’t for him. The ruddy mages should be able to take care of themselves! He leapt free as the coach bounced over the fallen gate. The horse couldn’t stop easily, but Revit and Terus had had enough… and pulling this off would likely save their lives, while being rather fun.
Seeing Verny leap away, Gallen shouted, “What?!”
The two both clasped hands and shouted, “Brace yourselves!”
Gallen’s eyes widened as she realized that Lord Je’orj and Aaprin weren’t exactly able to react to that…
Balfour gently mentally grasped the babe’s head as the head was crowned only midway. Aaprin monitored the child’s now racing heart as she strained more for oxygen from the tightening cord.
“Push!” Balfour shouted and Fri’il strained.
‘Now!’ George mind cried as he cut the cord.
The babe was suddenly in the elfblood’s hands. Her eyes were a deep blue as she stared into the world she now found herself.
“Congratulations,” the healer said, “it’s a girl.” Fri’il settled back as Balfour blinked and muttered, “Je’orj?”
Tett and Spiro had come running, a host of dwarves at their back pouring from the main entrance. They all came to a halt and stared. The stone of the path in front of the coach suddenly turned viscous, into a sort of large pool of mud. The racing horse leapt over it, the coach wasn’t so lucky.
Raven flew down and settled on top of the abruptly stopped coach, which had partially sunk into the now once more solid stone path. She flapped her wings as Se’and came running out of the house. Tett shrugged, “Apparently, Lord Je’orj is home, Milady.”
Gallen gasped as Aaprin snapped out of his trance. “Get your foot out of my face,” Terus rasped as Revit grunted beneath him, struggling to extricate himself.
George groaned, blinked, “Sorry, lad.”
Spiro stuck in his head, “Uh, I think you are in too deep to ever open this door.”
“Deep?”
Terus crawled off as Gallen sighed and held onto to Aaprin, who was blushing, “Uh, excuse me… we, uh, did our stick in the mud trick.”
“Keep still,” Gallen replied as Revit jostled her legs. “They’ll never get out if we’re trying to, too.”
George glanced out and saw the stone cobbles against the door. “Can you undo it?”
Revit answered, “We tried t
hat once…”
“Promised Master Stenh we never would again…”
Aaprin tried to turn, which just pressed his cheek closer to Gallen’s. “Uh, the damage they did to the gardens took weeks to fix.”
“Made a really big hole,” Terus admitted.
“Master Donnialt complained about the soil and stone raining in a couple of the Underhill sections of the Academy for days,” Revit added.
:Now that sound like something I’d like to see,: Staff offered as it glistened, scanning the immediate area.
“I don’t want to know,” George muttered.
:In that case, should I tell you this coach is a total loss?:
“Shut up,” he muttered, fighting a splitting headache. “Or is this sudden banter meant to distract me?”
:Now, George…:
“Oof,” Gallen grunted as Aaprin was shoved back again. His lips… eyes wide he tried to shift again only to knock Revit into Terus, who jostled George as his staff flared and… blasted the ceiling by the doorway.
They all coughed, but George was able to stand up as dwarven hands, then Se’and’s reached to help him out.
“Sorry,” Aaprin muttered.
“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t get mad. I just get even,” Gallen promised sweetly.
“Um.”
“Boys! Out!” Se’and ordered.
Terus jostled Revit, who knocked the half rising Aaprin, who fell back into Gallen who was seeking a better position. “Oh, blast.”
Gallen felt enough was enough as her head hit the damaged but still cushioned seat back as the others scrambled out. Seeing stars, she grabbed Aaprin’s cheeks, pulled his face close and kissed him.
Verny didn’t feel particularly like getting up off the ground. The mare nudged him. He glanced up at her, “Thanks for breaking down the gate. Didn’t fancy smashing through it without elvin chainmail.”
The mare whinnied.
“I’m fine.” He glanced at the coach and winced. “Lady Se’and just bought that… Oh well.”
The war horse size mare was sheened in sweat. Its harness was damaged beyond repair. The overly large young stallion sauntered up to her and whinnied.
The mare nodded, whinnying back
The both glanced back at Verny as he was coaxed to rise. He seemed in good shape. Raven fluttered her pale wings and gave them a squawk before flying up to the open window as the newborn let out a decent cry.
The mare whinnied, nodding. Mission accomplished.
Me’oh greeted him in the doorway with her baby gently nestled in her arms, “Welcome home, Lord Je’orj.”
He paused, his desire to check on the baby upstairs momentarily eclipsed. “She’s beautiful, Me’oh.”
“Her name’s Rachiel after Bal’s mother.”
“Oh, that’s a lovely name.” His mind went blank. Name, he’d never even discussed a name with Fri’il...
:I’m sure she’s picked something suitably Cathartan like Hart’less or Dea’adly,: Staff offered, but there was something odd about the computer’s often sarcastic tone.
Se’and urged him forward, “You’ve a child who wants to meet her father.”
Juels and Andre hung back. Glancing askance, Andre whispered, “Juels, there are tears in your eyes.”
Quickly wiping them, the girl replied, “That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re a softy, aren’t you?” Andre whispered.
Juels hesitated. “No, I’m not,” but she watched every step Je’orj took as staff in hand he rushed up the stairs. She turned away and wiped her tears.
“What’s wrong?” Andre whispered.
“Wrong? Nothing, I’m just happy… so happy. This is a real family we’re part of.”
Andre hugged her, “I’ll say this for it, it’s a sight better than the one I once had.”
The rather disheveled looking Gallen and a red faced Aaprin entered the house with Revit and Terus coming up, smiling, behind them, explaining to Spiro that the dwarves really were much better off hacking off the carriage wheels and digging out the underframe.
“Gallen!” Andre shouted, racing up to her.
The former urchin pack leader stared, “Andre, why are you wearing that?”
Andre halted, smoothed out the black livery and glanced down at her bared legs and sandaled feet. “Uh, Cle’or, um, she’s sort of adopted Juels and I.”
Revit and Terus were staring as Aaprin muttered, “Andre?”
The much younger Juels similarly dressed, frowned and winced, practically hearing the errant pair of boys thinking, By the Empress, she’s gorgeous.
George hurried up the stairs, Raven bounding up in beast-form behind him, then he hesitated. Raven paused and glanced back at him as Se’and came up the stairs, “Why do I have the suspicion that you were somehow involved with the birth?”
‘We just offered a little help,’ Staff uncharacteristically said to her.
She blinked. “Staff, somehow I doubt that.”
George gathered his courage and strode through the door. Balfour nodded to him as Fri’il grinned, “Milord, we’ve a lovely daughter.”
Staff glowed as George smiled, “Hi, there, little lady.” He went up to the reclining new mother and planted the staff beside her. George caressed Fri’il’s face, bending, kissing his daughter’s cheek. “She’s beautiful, Fri’il.”
“I’ve named her Ri’ori.”
Shaking his head, he knew it could have been worse, “Is it all right if I just call her Rori?”
Fri’il nodded, “I’m sure she won’t mind.”
Raven sauntered up, shimmered and changed to into human form.
She canted her head and looked at the baby girl, then smiled. Fri’il grinned back at her, “Glad you approve.”
“Bal, how are our the ladies doing?”
“Just fine, Je’orj.”
Cle’or glanced at Se’and, who was broadly smiling. Knowing Lord Je’orj would never leave them now, access to the gate back to his homeworld or not.
Chapter
19
Being granted an audience was becoming more difficult, particularly after the announcement Her Majesty had just made before the rather contentious Court. “Thank you for seeing me, Your Majesty.”
“Lady Rowena, how nice to see you again.”
The elfblooded woman had always been one of her greatest supporters. So it came as no surprise, when Rowena instantly exclaimed, “You can’t be serious!”
“He’s the duly elected Highmage,” the Empress said again.
“He’s human.”
“Why, I thought you met him at the Ball? You certainly seemed pleased enough to meet him from my vantage.”
“Majesty, I’m your friend. Believe me, you must reconsider. He’s Highmage. That people will accept, well, it will take some time for many. But this… he’s human. There is precedent as with her Late Majesty, your mother.”
“That is the precedent I wish to avoid. The price is too high.”
“This is a matter of State. What matters is that you are the Empress. This is too much.”
The Empress shook her head. “My decision is made.”
“Please, at least consider delaying formalizing this, uh, decision.”
Terhun entered the room and simply nodded to her. She smiled, “Excuse me, Lady Rowena.”
The rear doorway she passed through rippled as Terhun followed her back through it. They abruptly stood on a balcony with stars frozen in the night sky. The Empress turned and looked back through the rippling doorway, which changed. A window formed and showed Lady Rowena rejoining the many other members of the Court seeking to appeal to her to reconsider her announcement. She could tell that several were asking Rowena if she had been joking. Rowena shook her head and said but a few words before walking away, leaving them grumbling.
With a wave of her hand, the image faded away. She turned to Terhun, who whispered, “That went over well… When do you plan to tell Je’orj?”
“He’s back, then?
”
“Uh, yes, and just in time for the birth of his daughter, sort of.”
She nodded, “Well, no one is going to be able to object on the grounds he is sterile.”
“I suppose that is a good thing to consider in a Consort, Your Majesty.”
“Don’t tell me you question my making it official?”
“Who, me? You appointed me your spymaster. It’s my job to protect you and the Empire. But you do make it a challenge.”
“I will not make my mother’s mistake. I will not treat my Consort such that my future heir grows up without a father.”
“Even those that supported the choice of Je’orj as human mage will question the necessity.”
“Senason is lost to me forever… Je’orj as Highmage is to be my consort. We shall marry. That is all there is to it.”
“Ahem, and the matter of his having two Cathartan bodyguard wives, Your Majesty?”
“They’re Cathartan… and he hasn’t married either of them. They were bonded as Balfour was to the other two.”
Terhun glanced away, thinking back to how Cle’or had occasionally looked at Lord Je’orj along their journey together from Lyai to the Imperial Capital. Understanding Cathartan morés wasn’t the easiest thing for even rather cosmopolitan Imperials to do. Best I not share that.
Juels held the half-asleep newborn in her arms, clearly delighted to be of help, but also wryly amused by something as she rocked her, “Rori, Rori, Rori… welcome to the world.”
Raven bounded back down the stairs, apparently feeling that she would rather be anywhere else at the moment. George was closeted with the recovering Fri’il and Se’and and the shouting grew louder.