Movement V: Birthing Song

    “Janya has gone into labor!” the boy announced as he ran to Haleth. She was sitting beside Gelvar and Malron after their evening meal, admiring the sunset. The boy bowed belatedly to Haleth, who hid a sigh of weary amusement. She had no doubt that Gelvar would be afflicted with the anxiety of all expecting fathers—even if it was Haldar’s child, not his.
    “Malron, get him out of here,” she muttered. “I do not want to see the blunders he’ll make if he manages to get inside the birthing room.” Malron grinned and all but dragged away the protesting Gelvar as Haleth bent down to the boy.
    “If you ever do that to another father again, I will personally make sure that you have only bread and water for the next few weeks,” she said, although she was careful to grin at the boy. He grinned back unrepentantly and trotted off as fast as his legs could carry him. Haleth followed him at a more sedate pace. When she reached the place where Janya was, she sat down and waited. She wasn’t sure if she would be better or worse than Gelvar, and neither was she interested in finding out.
    Janya’s labor stretched far into the night, and her child was born as the first rays of the sun touched the sky. Haleth thought that was an interesting omen. The midwife invited Haleth inside when she heard a thin voice wailing, although it grew in volume every moment. Then she heard another voice and she paused in the threshold of the door, staring at Janya.
    “Twins?” The pale but radiant mother nodded tiredly, motioning for the midwives to close the door. One quieted after a moment, examining the stranger with blue eyes.
    “I’ll go get Gelvar. He should name them,” Haleth said, but Janya shook her head.
    “No,” she said firmly. “You have naming right.”
    Haleth’s mouth dropped open. Naming right was a great honor among the Haladin, and usually the mother granted it to the father as a matter of course.
    “You are Haldan’s sister,” she said. “I give you naming right.”
    “If you are sure…”
    “Yes.” Janya handed one child, and then the next, to her, and Haleth looked upon the faces of her brother’s children.
    They were male and female, just like her and Haldar. After a moment’s study, she had to swallow a lump in her throat and wipe her eyes, struck by the resemblance between Haldar and the boy. The boy had Haldar’s wide-eyed curiosity and bright, innocent eyes, full of friendliness and good will. The girl did not look anything like her father or mother, and Haleth was shocked to see her own fire in those blue eyes.
    Although she was tempted to name the male either Haldad or Haldar, she knew that it would be a cruelty to name him after his father or grandfather. The people would expect him to live up to their image.
    He grabbed at a stray lock of her hair as it brushed his cheek; however, the girl kept her eyes fixed upon her sword. Haleth gathered all the gravity she could and said, “Let him be known as Haldan Haldar’s son, descendant of Haldad.”
    It had been fairly easy to pick the name, but she was empty of ideas for the girl. She stared at the girl, seeing her face overlaid with dozens of other women who had fallen in battle, but none seemed to fit. Janya waited patiently until she heard Gelvar pounding at the door. A frowning midwife opened the door and glared at him. She was hissing at him furiously, and looking abashed, he backed away as the midwife not-quite-slammed the door behind him. After he left, Haleth was struck with a sudden flash of inspiration.
    “And let her be known as Mareth Haldan’s daughter, descendant of Haldad and his wife Mareth.” It was a nice way to honor the mother she had never known.
    She drew her dagger and lightly cut her palm, letting blood drip on the infants’ forehead. This was not part of the customary naming ritual, but they were Haldar’s children and would never know their father. The blood would only bind them closer to her, for the same blood flowed in their veins. The boy flinched back as the wet blood splattered on his face and began crying, but the girl remained quiet, blue eyes still fixed upon hers.
    “I stand as your surrogate father as Haldar, my brother, cannot stand as your father,” she said. “You’ll look very much like your father,” she said quietly to Haldan, then turned to Mareth. “And you—I think that we shall look much alike. And I think that you shall be a warrior as well, fighting alongside your brother.” Then she gave the children back to Janya after wiping away her blood.
    “Take care of them,” she said to Janya. “And tonight, as the sun sets, I shall give birth to a new hope for the Haladin.” And ignoring Janya’s puzzled look, she strode away and let the impatient Gelvar inside.
 
    By sunset, everyone knew the news, and everyone brought their cups to celebrate. After filling a cup with wine, everyone stood and grinned as Haleth, carrying Haldan’s children, walked to the head of the first table. She had ordered the tables to be set outside today, and torches had been lit for light. Malron closely trailed her, carrying her weapons, and Janya walked a few steps behind Malron, carrying a box. Gelvar brought up the rear, proudly displaying Haleth’s standard. The falcon fluttered in the wind, and everyone quieted as the procession arranged itself. Janya set the box at her feet unnoticed.
    Haleth held up the boy and shouted, “This is Haldan Haldar’s son, grandson of Haldad and Haleth’s brother-son. Today, here and now, I name Haldan as my heir to the leadership of the Haladin. Are there any who doubt my wisdom and would gainsay me?”
    None spoke, and she handed Haldan to Janya and raised Mareth into the air.
    “This is Mareth Haldar’s daughter, granddaughter of Haldad and Mareth and Haleth’s brother-daughter. She shall be her brother’s support, and should Haldan fall, she shall succeed me as leader. Are there any who doubt my wisdom and would gainsay me?”
    Again, no one spoke.
    “Then, my people, there is only one thing more. My sisters, those who helped to heal our wounded this past battle, I call upon you to come forth.” The men muttered amongst themselves, but stopped after a stern glance from Haleth.
    “My sisters,” she said as quiet fell once more. “I honor you for your sacrifice and courage on the field of battle. No mere speech or award could give you the honor you deserve, and I fear that all I can give you besides my gratitude is more work. I ask you here and now if some of you are willing to train as healers. Fear not; you shall be permitted to take husbands and have children. All I ask is that you serve the Haladin as healers rather than simply as mothers.” Some whispered amongst themselves, and in the end, less than half stood forth. The others looked apprehensive, but Haleth nodded to herself. She had not expected every mother to abandon her children, and indeed, most of those who remained were young.
    “You are the healers of the Haladin,” she said gravely. “May you serve our people long and well.” The other women left and the to-be-healers stayed at her side, beaming proudly.
    “My brothers, those who fought upon the field of battle, I call upon you to come forth.” The warriors stepped forward with their hands on their hearts, bowing before Haleth. “I ask from you what I asked your wives and sisters—to accept my command, and serve where I will.”
    “I will,” Malron said, and Cullan echoed him. “I will,” and then Haleth heard her people’s assent as more and more knelt before her.
    “Thank you,” she whispered in response to each man as the knelt before her. Some had tears openly streaming down their faces when Haleth thanked them.
    “My sisters, those who fought upon the field of battle, I call upon you to come forth.” The men remained utterly still this time as women, many with minor wounds, stepped forth. Most with major wounds had not survived.
    “First, I ask you to raise a toast to the women who fell defending their children and family,” Haleth said, and raised her own glass. “Hail the courageous fallen,” she said as Haldad had long ago, and the entire gathering repeated her words in a rumble. She drank unwatered wine this time, and drained her cup. “And now—my sisters, I ask of you the same I did of the healers. Will you train and fight under my command, and swear to protect the Haladin as the warriors do?” Amazingly, no one protested, not even Cullan and Kellan.
    No one stepped forward, and Haleth’s heart sank. She had not expected many, but she had hoped for a few.
    “My lady,” someone almost whispered, then raised her voice. “Lady Haleth, I will be proud to serve you, if you would have me.” After a moment, the woman stepped forward and Haleth was astonished to recognize Bríani. She knelt before Haleth and presented a sword laid flat in the palm of her hands. Her eyes widened as she recognized the sword she had left on the battlefield, the one she had trained with. “I offer you my sword.”
    So that was where my sword went, she thought with a faint touch of amusement.
    “Then, my lady Bríani, I would be proud to accept it,” Haleth answered steadily. She offered Bríani a hand up, and the two women stood together.
    And then, even more amazingly, one by one all of the women who had fought knelt before her, repeating Bríani’s words. She hid her soaring joy behind her grave mask but smiled warmly at each woman as they presented a sword—or any weapon. Other young women were stepping forward as well, begging her to take them into her service.
    And to each one, Haleth said yes.
    I think that you would have been proud of me, Haldad, she thought as a girl of sixteen or so knelt before her with a simple kitchen knife in her hands.
    It was only then that she noticed what was in Janya’s box. Each healer had been gifted with a scarf embroidered with a shield and hound—Haldad’s standard.
    The warriors had been given one embroidered with a falcon carrying a crossed sword and arrow in its talons—her standard.
    Her eyes met Janya’s, and then Malron’s, and both nodded in reply with a tiny smile hovering about their faces. It was a priceless gift that she would treasure always, and she thanked them with her heart in her eyes.
    She thought it was then that she truly began her healing, and that she truly accepted her leadership of the Haladin.
    Yet her thoughts were filled with bleak sorrow as she looked down again. I have given new hope to the Haladin and kept none for myself, she thought. She raised her eyes and met Malron’s once more. The same bleak sorrow was mirrored in his blue-gray eyes, and she inclined her head to him. They both had dispelled their doubts, but they had also lost loved ones and still had ghosts.
    But they still had each other, bound by the blood oath. She took some small comfort in that, even as he did.

    A week later, the Haladin raised Haleth’s banner above the host and began the long trek to Estolad.

Contents  Previous  Next
top