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.
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