“Yes, more than one. Now get one of the serving boys to heat some water, and fetch me some clean cloths.” They were now at the top of the stairs and making their way to the guest bedchamber. Nedjem stopped and squatted, groaning and pushing as though she was about to relieve herself as humans do. “Not yet, not yet,” Dorus begged. “Sekhemet, fetch a midwife. Now!” he bellowed when she did not move. Sekhemet gasped, then ran. The look upon her face showed she was relieved not to have to go up there and help. Nedjem groaned again. “Cassandra, please come.” Dorus glanced over his shoulder at me. I had never attended a birth. I had watched women grow fat with child and heard the screams of pain when their labour began, but I had never been called upon to assist.
When I entered the chamber Dorus was helping Nedjem onto her bed, for there was no birthing chair. MeryAmun was brushing her hair from her sweat-drenched face affectionately. She perched on the edge, leaning back so her body arched through the pain. I stared as her stomach contracted over the child beneath her gown. Dorus laid his hand upon her belly and felt around.
“It is low and I think the head is down.”
I did not know what that meant, but Nedjem clearly did, for she was nodding frantically. MeryAmun was watching her; eyes round and wide open like a frightened animal, yet he never left her side.
“Cassandra, take a look, tell me if she is ready.”
I blinked at him.
“You have attended a birth?”
I shook my head.
“You do it,” Nedjem gasped, her hands crushing the straw mattress into hard lumps. “It’s all right. There is no dignity in birthing anyway, just do it.”
I watched in wonder and Dorus got down on his knees before her, lifted her gown and looked between the woman’s legs. Then, to my even greater astonishment, he slid his fingers into her cunny. I clapped my hand over my mouth.
“You’re there,” he said, withdrawing and sitting back on his haunches. “With the next pain, push.” But his last word was drowned out by the screaming of Nedjem as she bore down hard on the child. Her face turned red, then purple as she pushed with all her strength. All I could think to do was rub her back through the agony. I knew not why anyone was ever born when giving life was so difficult.
“Very good, very good. I can see the top of its head.”
Curiosity was overwhelming. I got down beside Dorus and looked. Sure enough, there was the crown of a babe’s head, just appearing in the hole that had stretched wide enough to let it through. The pain came again and Nedjem heaved down.
“Lord Zeus,” I gasped. Dorus cupped the head in his hands and held it gently as it slid out as far as its throat.
“Good, the head is out.” He encouraged Nedjem. “One more.”
Nedjem didn’t wait to be asked again. She screamed hard and deep and the baby slipped out in a gush of liquid and greasy blood.
“Pass me a cloth,” Dorus said to me. I looked around for I had not noticed the serving boy come in and leave them on the bed beside Nedjem. MeryAmun passed one down to me. Dorus reached into the sheath at his waist and drew out his dagger. For a horrifying moment, I thought he would kill the child. But then he cut the cord that bound it to its mother and tied it off close to the infant’s navel.
“A son!” he said, getting to his feet and handing the child to his mother, but he was not given chance. For Nedjem screamed again, her belly tightening once more. “It is all right,” he said, handing he child to MeryAmun instead. It’s just the after-birth.”
But Nedjem was shaking her head vigorously. She gripped at her belly, tears running down her cheeks. I thought she was dying. I pictured my own mother at the moment she had birthed me. How much pain I had caused her in the last moments she had drawn breath. I watched MeryAmun cuddled his infant brother close, kissing his tiny forehead, fearing the worst.
Dorus felt around on Nedjem’s belly again, as tight and full as it had been before the child had come away.
“Twins,” he said more calmly than I could see he felt. “This one is upside down,” he added, his hand beginning to shake.
“How can you tell?” I asked, wanting to put my hands on the baby belly too.
“My youngest brother Adrian was the same way.” He glanced at the door. “Where in the name of Zeus are Sekhemet and the midwife?”
“Upside down is bad?” I asked stupidly. Nedjem was rocking her body from side to side.
“The pain, it’s worse now,” she looked exhausted. “My third was breech,” she added.
“All right, then you know what to do.” Dorus looked a little less afraid. Nedjem nodded.
“He died,” she gasped as another contraction wracked her body.
The baby in MeryAmun’s arms squirmed. His little face screwed up tight like a wrinkled date. His skin turned red and his dark eyes vanished into his cheeks. He threw his head back against his brother’s chest and screeched loud and high. MeryAmun rocked him hoping it would be soothing, but the child began to fret more.
Nedjem wailed and pushed. Dorus and I waited, watching.
It seemed an age had gone by, an age of pain and screaming. Then just as Nedjem fell back on the bed in exhaustion Dorus looked up at me with a faint flicker of a smile.
“I see something. It’s finally coming.”
I was only half aware of someone coming into the room and standing beside me. She was gripping her waist as though she had run ten times around a chariot arena.
“Midwife is at another birth,” Sekhemet spluttered once she had enough breath.
“Then we will manage on our own.”
“Twins,” Sekhemet stated, once she realized MeryAmun was already holding a new-born in his arms. I nodded, as she leaned over the babe and smiled.
“She’s beautiful,” she said, and I noticed she was crying.
“He,” her betrothed replied. She looked at him in wonderment. It was as though she had only just noticed his kind and gentle nature.
“You must sit up Nedjem, please,” Dorus glanced over at me. I got up onto the bed and helped Nedjem to sit back up. As soon as she was in position Dorus slid his fingers inside her again. I dare not ask what for. He twisted his body around, leaning up to Nedjem, feeling about, then,
“Ah!” the next moment a little leg eased out of its mother and flopped down, hanging like a rope, a moment later the second joined it. “Breathe Nedjem, wait.”
Nedjem began to pant like a dog. The strain of not pushing seemed almost greater than the effort of doing so. Her belly contracted and she screamed so loud Sekhemet and I both near leapt from our skins.
“Now, but slowly,” Dorus said calmly. Whatever he was doing, it seemed to work, for the babe began to emerge, until it reached the pits of its arms.
Once again Dorus was required to help it, gently tugging out one arm, and then the other, then, suddenly the child was out. He caught her in his arms as she dropped. Quickly he cut the cord and tied it off just as he had with her brother. But unlike the elder twin, she was not pink and wriggling. Her skin was tinged blue and her body floppy and unresponsive.
“Cloth,” he said to Sekhemet. She handed him the nearest one. Wrapping it around the babe he began to rub her, as though trying to keep her warm.
“What’s wrong, why isn’t she crying,” Nedjem sagged against me, exhausted and full of fear.
Dorus turned the child upside down and tapped her on the back. The room was silent. He tapped her again, tipping her back and forth. He slipped a finger in her mouth and cleared out anything that might be blocking her air. But there was nothing.
“Come on little one,” I heard Sekhemet say.
“Help her,” Dorus said to me, as Nedjem began to shake and push again. “Make sure the after-births are complete,” he instructed. I was not sure what he meant. I sat down on the floor and watched, cold and numb as the dead child. Two red liver-like lumps slithered out of Nedjem, landing on the hard floor splattering blood over my legs and gown. I was not sure what they were meant to look lik
e but there seemed to be nothing torn away.
At the doorway, Urhiya appeared.
“Come in Father, Mother needs you,” MeryAmun sounded more commanding than I had ever heard before. Nedjem held out her hand to her husband. He fell to his knees, laying his head against the side of her bare legs.
MeryAmun looked down at the infant in his arms, kissed his forehead and handed him to his shaking father. Urhiya began to cry as he held his living child close, and stared at the other, cold and blue as Dorus hung her upside down and gave her a sharp slap on her backside. When she did not respond her laid her down on the floor before him and stroked her peaceful face.
“I am so sorry,” he said, looking up at Nedjem and Urhiya.
Urhiya was shaking his head,
“You did all you could.”
“Thank you,” Nedjem sobbed. She reached down and placed a hand upon Dorus’s head.
“Let’s make you comfortable,” Sekhemet helped Nedjem back onto the bed, propping her up with a camel skin cushion. “Pass me the water and a cloth,” she said to MeryAmun. He collected a bowl of water and helped his betrothed wash Nedjem with such great tenderness I failed to see how Sekhemet could still dislike him. Dorus got to his feet, his body looked heavy, and dark rings had settled around his eyes. Behind us, the sky began to lighten casting a thin grey haze around the room. I threw myself into his embrace. He held me tight, burying his face in my neck, tears soaking through the shoulder of my now blood soiled gown. I set him back, kissing him lightly on the lips.
“Go rest, I will come to you soon.”
He walked away with tired legs and slumped shoulders. The moment he was gone, I reached for the dead child. Her body was soft like a small bundle of rags and bone. Gently I folded the cloth over her face and carried her out, down the stairs and into the entrance hall. I knew not where I was taking her, but I knew we needed to have her cleaned and buried as soon as possible, for the heat was already rising, and the summer was unforgiving with death. I took her through to the courtyard and sat down upon the bench beneath the orange tree.
The sun was not high enough yet to harm me, and I was not certain at that moment that I cared. I had seen others grow old and die, living out their lives until they were done. Some cut short by sickness or the sword, but I had never before been there at what should have been the start of life, not the end.
To see the dead babe was like looking at death itself. I raised her to my breasts and held her tight, not wanting to set her down. I kept her there, close to me for a few moments, looking up at the silver sky.
Then I stopped and held my breath. I could feel something, very faint at first, like a tiny flutter. I waited. There it was again. Quickly I unwrapped the child. Her little blue lips were parted and her face like marble. I thought I was mistaken, but then, a twitch of her foot. I pressed a hand gently to her chest.
A heartbeat. So very faint and rapid, but there nevertheless. I rubbed at her back again, as I had seen Dorus do. I tapped her foot. A flicker of movement. Then, like a miracle of magic she sucked in a deep gasp of air and her face began to turn pink. With a second gasp, she puffed out her lips, opened her mouth and let out a cry so identical to her brother’s I could not have told them apart.
On a balcony above a drape swished back and Dorus was standing there looking down at us in awe.
“How? What did you do?” he called, his face brightened with joy. I began to feel my skin tingle and so scurried back into the house. On the stairs, I near ran into Sekhemet. She was staring at us, gawping.
“You brought her back from death?” Her voice held a hint of accusation.
I shook my head; appalled she could think I would turn the child.
“I did nothing. She did it on her own,” I said quietly. On the landing, MeryAmun and Urhiya had come out of their bedchambers and were watching us in astonishment.
“She should be with her mother,” I smiled.
*
The joy a birth can bring is overwhelming, but the joy of a child brought back from the dead is never-ending. The twins began to thrive together, and I could not help but think of my bookend cousins out there somewhere in the world. I wondered if they were still together, but each time I searched my dreams they were apart.
Though everyone was exhausted from the turn of events, Nedjem insisted that the celebrations go ahead as planned. Sekhemet delighted in the news. The servants were called upon to decorate the villa and cook a sumptuous feast for all the guests.
When the day finally came Sekhemet could not be prevented from smiling. Her angry words to Dorus and me seemed to have been forgot, by all.
The celebration was to be in the morning when the lotus flowers would be in full bloom. Sekhemet rose at dawn, and I with her, fussing over her gown and weaving gold threads through her long natural hair. I had persuaded her not to wear a wig that day, for I thought she should reveal her true self to her husband upon their first married day together.
Perhaps I was just being sentimental, but Sekhemet agreed. So instead of the thick Kushite plaits, she wore her own hair tied up in a Grecian style knot. I clipped a small gold lotus flower to the side of her head and threaded a pair of matching earrings through her earlobes.
“These were your mother’s,” I said, standing back to admire her beauty. “She asked me to give them to you on your turning of age day. Sekhemet picked up a polished disk of bronze and peered into it, turning this way and that to assess her reflection. I was grateful she was not like me, for the reflection of a Vampyr is ghostly and thin. I prayed Sekhemet would live a long and happy, human, life. She tugged at the front of her gown so that her small cleavage looked a little bigger.
“You are still very young, give it time,” I grinned, remembering my own unfounded fears on that account, so many years before.
“Will he find me beautiful?” she asked. I laughed for I had never once heard her doubt her self in any manner before.
“Of course. He already does.”
“Yes, yes he does, doesn’t he? And he will be a kind husband, and let me do whatever I wish,” she grinned. I rolled my eyes and laughed again,
“Yes, I believe he will. What changed your mind?” I asked, knowing very well the answer.
“I saw how tender he was to his mother and baby brother,” she said as though it were obvious. She put the mirror down on the table by the window and spun around so that her gown floated out around her legs.
“I think you will be very happy together, as long as he lets you rule the house,” I grinned too. She stopped spinning.
“You know you cannot marry Dorus.” Her tone was so matter-of-fact that I almost did not comprehend her at first.
Dorus had asked me to go back to Crete with him the evening after the twins were born, and I had agreed. After all, my promise to Neferet was complete. Though I knew not what Dorus recalled of Sekhemet’s words to us in the courtyard that night, or if he had any notion as to what I really am. But I loved him, and after all that had just happened, I had not thought any further than that. I sat down on her bed.
“He will grow old, and you will not. If you make him like you he will go mad.”
I had not known she was aware of that fact. I rubbed my hands over my face.
“My father told me all about your kind.” She came to sit beside me. “Forgive me. You know I love you like my own mother, and you have been so good to me. But what you are, your kind, you cannot be with a human. It would be cruel, and wrong.”
I had heard such words before; back in Troy, when my affair with Polydamas was discovered, and it was not just human’s who had disapproved. My heart sank in my chest like a granite block. I knew of only one pair that had survived in such a relationship: Isis and Osiris, but Isis had been forced to turn him in the end. It was only determination and luck that had brought him through it.
“If you truly love him, let him go. Let him return to Crete and live his life with a good human wife.”
“Perhaps for a little wh
ile,” I said selfishly, more to myself than to Sekhemet. She took my hand.
“And let him love you more? Then it will be worse.”
If I had not thought she was right, I would have slapped her and told her to mind her own business.
“Are you almost ready?” Nedjem’s voice called from the other side of the door drape. “It’s time.”
Sekhemet stood and took one last look down at her self before flouncing out onto the landing, and heading downstairs to her new married life. I followed her out.
The villa was beautiful. Pale blue lotus flowers had been placed in bowls on every table, their petals opened wide. The air was sweet and heady with the floral scent, and a light warm breeze was drifting through from the courtyard. The entrance hall was filled with guests. Human’s bustled about with smiling faces and cups of wine. Servants walked around holding platters of bread and sweets.
“Happy birthday,” MeryAmun emerged from the crowd. He was dressed in his best kilt and wore a lotus flower pinned at his waist. “My wife!” he said, presenting her to the room. I was pleased to see Sekhemet so happy.
From my position on the stairs, I could see all around the room. I glanced over the faces looking for Dorus. The moment I saw him my heart ached. He was looking up at me. For a moment he was smiling, but as he read my expression his face dropped and his eyes grew dark. It was broad daylight and I could not go out into the courtyard. I fled back upstairs and pulled down the drape of my bedchamber, wishing that there was a wooden door I could use to close out the world. I threw myself upon the bed and prayed for the day to pass quickly so that I may go to the brothel and bury my pain.
I should have known he would come. I heard the drape swish back and the scuff of a sandal on the floor.
“Forgive me for intruding. But, please tell me what’s wrong.”
I turned over to reveal my tear-stained face.
“I cannot go with you,” I sobbed.
He sat down beside me and threaded his fingers together. Without looking at me he said,
The Dark Evolution Chronicles Page 14