“I had hoped that I could hold out till we reached Carthon,” Melora said, and Rohana realized that her kinswoman was sharing her sense of unease and dread. Rohana must somehow manage to be strong and confident
She said, “Look. They are making a fire, we will have light, and some hot food, and there is water near,” as she guided Melora’s steps toward the kindled blaze. “And we are in luck; one of these women was once a midwife!”
She was dismayed, now that she could see Melora by firelight: hands and ankles swollen, eyes red and feverish. She should have told us hours ago; we should have stopped … but then the child would have been born without water near. …
Melora sank down gratefully on the pile of blankets that the Amazons had arranged for her. For a moment she buried her face in her hands; Rohana could hear her breathing, loud and hoarse like an animal. Then she raised her head and said plaintively, “I am thirsty, Rohana-will you bring me a drink?”
“Of course.” Rohana began to rise, but Melora clutched at her hands. “No, no stay with me. Did I tell you why I suddenly knew I must escape, get Jaelle away, or kill her myself before this child was born?”
“No, dear, you didn’t tell me-”
“When I found her-playing with Jalak’s other little daughters-they had all of them, even Jaelle, tied ribbons about their hands, playing at being grown up, and in chains-”
Rohana felt herself shudder, deep down in the bones. She said quickly, “Dear, let me go. I will fetch you a drink; do you think you could eat a little?” She left Melora lying on the pile of blankets and went to the darkness near the water hole, kneeling to rinse the cup, trembling, glad to hide her face in the darkness.
After a little she managed to control herself and come back. Kindra said from the fire, “Tell her we will have some hot food soon, and something to drink; it may strengthen her for what lies ahead. And I think we can manage torchlight later, if we need it.”
Rohana somehow managed to thank her. She came back and knelt beside Melora, who was lying with her eyes closed; Rohana held the cup to her lips, and Melora gulped it thirstily. Rohana said, “We shall have some hot food for you soon; try to rest.” She went on talking, saying anything that crossed her mind, trying to sound encouraging; after a few minutes, Melora put out a hand to stop the flow of chatter.
“Breda-” She used the casta word for “sister”; in the intimate inflection it also meant “darling.” “Don’t lie to me. In memory of what we both were, once, don’t try to pretend, as if I were still an outsider; what is going to happen?”
Rohana looked at the sick woman, heart-wrung. So after all she is still Comyn, still telepath; she can read me so easily. “What can I say to you, Melora? You know as well as I that no woman so far in pregnancy should travel so far or so fast. But other women have survived worse than this, and lived to frighten their granddaughters with the tales of what they endured. And I’ll be with you.”
Melora clasped her hand. “Better you than the evil crone who brought Jaelle into the world,” she said, clinging to her cousin’s fingers. “She would not even free my hands….” She ran her fingertips, as with a long-habitual gesture, along the jagged scars at her wrists. “Jalak swore if I bore a son he would give me whatever I asked, save my freedom; I had it in my mind to ask for her head.”
Rohana shuddered, was grateful when Fat Rima approached them; she said, “Here is our midwife; she will do what she can for you, breda.”
Melora looked up at her; she felt-Rohana sensed it-skeptical and more than a little frightened. But she said (and again, poignantly, Rohana was reminded of the lighthearted and gracious girl Melora had once been), “I thank you, mestra; I did not know any of the Free Amazons would choose such a womanly trade.”