was.
She didn’t know where it was. She wasn’t even sure that there was an emerald.
But everybody knew that she’d been told about the jewel by Benna nus-Katarz.
Thanks to Masha’s blabbermouth drunken husband, Eevroen.
Three weeks ago, on a dark night, Masha had returned late from midwifing in the
rich merchants’ Eastern quarter. It was well past midnight, but she wasn’t sure
of the hour because of the cloud-covered sky. The second wife of Shoozh the
spice-importer had borne her fourth infant. Masha had attended to the delivery
personally while Doctor Nadeesh had sat in the next room, the door only half
closed, and listened to her reports. Nadeesh was forbidden to see any part of a
female client except for those normally exposed and especially forbidden to see
the breasts and genitals. If there was any trouble with the birthing, Masha
would inform him, and he would give her instructions.
This angered Masha, since the doctors collected half of the fee, yet were seldom
of any use. In fact, they were usually a hindrance.
Still, half a fee was better than none. What if the wives and concubines of the
wealthy were as nonchalant and hardy as the poor women, who just squatted down
wherever they happened to be when the pangs started and gave birth unassisted?
Masha could not have supported herself, her two daughters, her invalid mother,
or her lazy alcoholic husband. The money she made from doing the more affluent
women’s hair and from her tooth-pulling and manufacture of false teeth in the
marketplace wasn’t enough. But midwifery added the income that kept her and her