Soth shivered at the recollection. Then he looked at Isolde, saw the joy in her eyes, and knew he couldn't bring himself to share with her the sense of dread that was clawing at his heart. "That's wonderful news," he stammered.
"It doesn't sound as if-"
Isolde's words were cut short by a knock upon the door that led out into the main hallway.
"Who is it?" asked Isolde, her voice calm.
"Beg your pardon, but is… milord with you?"
Isolde looked at Soth, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and fear.
"Who dares to call for me here?" bellowed Lord Soth, letting the person outside know that he didn't look favorably upon such a blatant invasion of his privacy.
"It's Caradoc, milord."
Soth rose from the bed and moved toward the door.
"What is it?" he asked, the irritation gone from his voice.
"It's your wife, milord," said Caradoc. "She's birthing the child and is calling for you."
"I will be there at once."
He turned to face Isolde, unable to say anything.
Fortunately, he didn't have to. "Go," said Isolde. "Your wife needs you."
Soth dressed hurriedly and as he rushed down the hallway found that he could hear the agonizing screams of Lady Korinne even before he reached the healer's chambers.
She was obviously in pain, a great deal of pain.
It is said that the pain of childbirth is the most easily forgotten, but
Soth found this hard to believe.
When he reached the healer's quarters he knocked on the door even though, in this situation, he wasn't required to do so. After waiting a few moments, Soth realized no one had heard his knock over the loud cries of Lady Korinne. He opened the door and suddenly heard Korinne's screams at full volume.
At first Soth winced at the sound. Although he'd heard men in battle cry out in agony, he'd never heard such screams as he was hearing now.
He hurried over to Korinne's side. When she saw him, she relaxed somewhat and her wails lessened. He took her hand and held it as she panted to catch her breath.
She was drenched in sweat, her hair pasted down onto her forehead and across her face. Her lips were dry and cracked and her chest rose and fell at a frantic pace, as if she'd just completed a nonstop run from
Palanthas.
"Loren," she said when she was able. "I've been calling for you. Where have you been?"
Soth found it hard to say anything. He saw the trusting look in her eyes, the relief on her face upon his arrival and felt sick that he'd betrayed her. "I was," he said. The next few words seemed to get stuck in his throat for a moment. "I was… reprimanding one of the knights."
"Really," she said, seemingly happy to have her mind diverted by chatter. "Who was it? What did he do wrong?"
"That's not important now," said Soth. "What's important is how you are feeling."
"Can't you see, I'm doing wonderfully-" A sudden stab of pain sliced through Korinne's body and she arched her back. She let out a sharp cry, then lay back on the bed, her eyes closed and at rest.
Soth brushed a hand over Korinne's face and looked over at the healer.
Istvan had been busy off in the corner preparing herb mixtures while
Soth and Korinne had spoken. Now he moved to Korinne's side, wiping her face with a damp cloth.
"What is happening?" asked Soth.
Istvan shook his head. "Everything appears to be progressing normally. I have delivered twenty-seven children in my time and all is as it should be. The pain she is feeling confounds me."
"Can't you prepare something to lessen it?"
"I've tried," Istvan answered with a shrug. "But nothing seems to be working." He looked Korinne over as he patted the damp cloth across her forehead. "Your presence seems to have calmed her. This is the first she's been able to rest for hours."
"Then I will stay until the child is born."
"Thank you," said Istvan. "It might help."
Soth looked at Istvan, wondering about the healer's choice of the word might. Something told Soth that the healer, as was his custom, knew more than he was letting on.
"I can see the head!" cried the healer, sweat dripping down off his nose. He'd wanted to call in an assistant hours ago, but Soth had forbidden it, not wanting any more people than were necessary to see Lady Korinne in such a compromised state.
Soth was out in the hall just on the other side of the door. He had been in the room for the longest time, but his constant concern over
Korinne's agonized shrieks had prompted the healer to ask Soth to leave the room, allowing him to do his work without the interference and misguided concerns of an impassioned observer.
"You must push," said Istvan. "Push harder!"
"I can't," cried Korinne, at the point of exhaustion.
Istvan believed her. He had never in his years seen such a lengthy and painful birth. Everything about the delivery of this child was slow and complicated when in truth there were absolutely no signs warranting complications, or pain for that matter. But here was Korinne, in labor half the day.
"You must try," Istvan said, his voice showing far more compassion than normal. Usually he was very hard on women during birth, forcing them to work harder in order to end their ordeal more quickly. But Korinne had already suffered too much, for too long.
Korinne cut short a moan and pushed.
The child's head moved slightly, no more than the width of several hairs. "Yes, that's it! Very good! Again!"
"It moved?" exclaimed Korinne, her voice breathy and filled with relief.
"Yes, it's coming. Now, push again."
She grimaced and tightened her body, tensing her stomach muscles and trying to squeeze the child through the far-too-small birth canal.
"I see an ear!" cried Istvan. "Keep going!"
Korinne was almost laughing now. She probably felt the child beginning to move a little more each time. After so many hours, she was happy to see it finally out of her body.
She closed her eyes, pressed her lips together and grabbed at the wooden rails on either side of the bed.
Then she groaned sharply, and pushed.
Her fingernails cut deeply into the hard, polished wood of the rails.
The child's entire head appeared, followed quickly by its shoulders, neck.
And then… The rest of its body slid out into the world, almost in a gush. Istvan caught the child, and gasped.
He held the child in his hands and for the longest time his mouth moved, but he was unable to speak.
Finally, he said in a whisper, "Mishakal have mercy."
Outside the room, Soth had been waiting for what seemed like hours. The screams of his wife had pained him and now that they had stopped, he feared the worst.
But as he continued to wait in silence, not knowing what had happened was far worse than hearing the constant cries of pain. At last he rose up from where he sat and opened the door to the healer's chambers.
The room seemed even quieter than the hall had been.
Korinne was lying on the bed, her chest rising and falling in a deep and regular rhythm. Istvan sat at his desk with his head in his hands, no doubt exhausted by what had been a lengthy birth.
Soth looked around for the child, but did not see it.
When Soth closed the door behind him, Istvan jumped.
The healer looked over at Soth, his face pale and his eyes wide in something very much like fear. As Soth moved closer, he noticed the old man looking even more aged and haggard than he remembered.
"Is she all right?" asked Soth in a whisper.
Istvan nodded. "Lady Korinne is resting. She will recover."
Soth nodded. "And what of the child?"
"It is resting as well, in the bassinet over there." He pointed to a small cradle made of dark wood, a simple but well constructed piece