Out of the Darkness

“I should say so,” Krasta exclaimed. She rested her hands on her enormous belly; her arms seemed too short to go round herself, though of course they weren’t. And she had something else on her mind, too, something Bauska couldn’t have dwelt upon: “And once this baby finally comes out, everyone will see it’s a proper little blond, not some nasty Algarvian’s bastard.”

Bauska’s mouth tightened. She left, even though Krasta hadn’t told her she could. Krasta snarled something vile under her breath. To her way of thinking, having a normal, Valmieran-looking baby would automatically wash her clean of all the times she’d opened her legs for Colonel Lurcanio. Anyone would be able to look at the child and see at a glance that, when it really mattered, she’d lain with one of her own countrymen-and a nobleman to boot.

Her womb had been tightening every so often for some weeks. She’d got used to it, though she found it annoying-it squeezed on the baby, which was uncomfortable to her, and it evidently made the baby uncomfortable, too, for the little brat always did some extra thrashing and wiggling after things eased up. Krasta didn’t like that, either; by now, the baby was big enough to kick and poke hard, and didn’t care what tender parts of her it abused in the process.

Three days before her brother’s wedding, the labor pains started in earnest. They were rhythmic, they were regular, and they were much more irksome than any pangs she’d known before. She cursed before calling for Bauska. She’d hoped the baby would wait till the middle of the marriage ceremony. If she’d started screaming for a midwife then, that would have taken everybody’s mind off the catastrophe befalling her family.

But no such luck. When she became convinced these pains weren’t going away, she shouted for Bauska. Her maidservant took her own sweet time getting there. When she did, Krasta demanded, “What was the name of that woman?”

“What woman, milady?” Bauska asked. Krasta had another pang then, and clenched her teeth against it. That told Bauska everything she needed to know. “Oh, the midwife,” she said. “She’s called Kudirka. Shall I have her summoned?”

“No, of course not,” Krasta snapped. “I just wanted to know her name for no reason at all.” And then, in case the maidservant was a fool or felt like pretending to be one, she made herself perfectly clear: “Aye, fetch her. This is going to be over, and I am going to show everybody what the truth is.”

Bauska didn’t answer that. She went away, which satisfied Krasta well enough. Presently, the carriage clattered down the walk and away from the mansion. After what was about an hour and seemed much longer, it came rattling back. By then, Krasta’s labor pains had advanced to the point where she hardly noticed its return.

Kudirka walked into the bedchamber without bothering to knock. She was as broad-shouldered as an Unkerlanter and had a face like a frog, but something in her manner got through even to Krasta. “Take off your trousers, sweetie, and let’s find out what’s going on in there,” the midwife said.

“All. . right.” Another pang seized Krasta before she could. Kudirka waited till it was over, then yanked the trousers off the marchioness herself. She proceeded to feel Krasta’s belly and then to probe her a good deal more intimately than any lover ever had. Krasta yelped.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Kudirka told her. “Your hips are nice and wide. You won’t have any trouble at all. A few hours of grunting, then some pushing, and then there’s a baby in your arms. Easy as you please.”

“Good,” Krasta said. It all sounded simple and straightforward.

It didn’t turn out to be that way, of course. It turned out to be boring and painful and exhausting. She discovered exactly why the process was called labor. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead. It seemed to go on forever, and to hurt more and more as it continued.

At one point, Krasta started cursing every man she’d ever lain with, and cursing Kudirka, too. The midwife took it in stride. “It’s a good sign, honey,” she said. “It means you’ll be ready to do your pushing pretty soon.”

“There’s more?” Krasta groaned. She’d been going through this for an eternity-it was getting dark outside, and she’d started in the morning. Kudirka only nodded. Then she went to the bedchamber and spoke to someone. Krasta paid little attention till Merkela came in. No matter how far gone she was, that registered. “Get out of here!” she squawked.

“No,” the peasant woman answered. “I am going to see this baby before you have the chance to do anything with it or to it. If it’s blond, it is. If it’s not… I will know that, too.”

Krasta cursed her as savagely as she knew how. She had no inhibitions left, none whatever. Merkela gave back as good as she got till Kudirka nudged her. Even she respected the midwife, and fell silent.

“I have to shit,” Krasta said. “I have to shit more than I ever had to shit in my whole life.”

“That’s the baby,” Kudirka said. “Go ahead and push it out.”