Vengeance (31 page)

I hold my breath as
she draws near to the side of the bed.  I realize as her feet
whisper across the carpeted floor that she does not wear shoes.  As
I release my breath and take in air I discover a new taste on the
air, like fresh honey bread just out of a hearth fire.

“My name is
Lurime,” she says as she sinks down onto the edge of my bed.  

“You are a
Faeus?”

Her eyes widen in
surprise.  “You know of my people?”

“I knew a
man...a friend,” I amend, “who once loved one of your
people.”

She lowers her hair
and I watch a cascade of shimmering black hair fall over her
shoulder.  “I am sorry for him.  We do not love
easily.”

I nod, knowing that
Hyde did not either.  “My friend would have been pleased
to have met you.  He did not know there were more of your people
on this planet.”

“There are
very few of us left.  Wars. Plagues.  Men from the stars.
 We were scattered or killed.  I am among the few that
remain now.”

I smile up at her,
knowing exactly how she must feel. Being part of such a small knit
group back on Earth after the invasion left us dependent on each
person.  Everyone mattered.  Everyone was vital.  The
human race was on the brink of destruction before I came into power,
and I will see to it that if I ever return to my throne that I will
set things right.  Not just for my own people, but for the Faeus
if possible too.

“Well, it is
nice to see that my friend’s claims are true.  Your people
truly are breathtaking.”

Lurime glances away
and I realize that the darkening of her cheeks gives evidence to her
blush.  “Why did he come here?” She asks, lifting
her hair out of the way so that I could see her again.  

“For love,”
I smile, wistfully.  Eamon would do the same for me, if he knew
how to find me.  If he survived the battle I know without a
doubt that he has been scouring the stars in search for me, waiting
for some sign as to where I am.  I must find a way to signal
him.  Perhaps I can speak with Bastien about that tomorrow.
 Surely our new hosts have the equipment to send out a message
so that we can be located.

I blink and realize
that she is staring at me.  Laughing, I shake my head.  “I’m
sorry.  I do that sometimes.  Daydreams seem to be the only
way to get through the day sometimes.”

She nods.  “But
you have your man with you.”

“Who?
 Bastien?”  I clasp my hands over my stomach.  “No.
 He is not my man.”

Not in any sense of
the word.  After we spoke earlier in the day he refused to
acknowledge me anymore.  He tried to sleep but grew restless too
easily.  He flipped through his book but I knew he wasn’t
really looking at it.  Not long after he locked himself in the
bathroom to get washed up I fell asleep.  I don’t remember
hearing him leave, but it bothers me that he did.  I didn’t
mean to hurt him, but I can’t have him thinking that I can just
live a lie.

Do I love Bastien?
 I know that I do.  At least a large part of me does, but
that doesn’t change my feelings for Eamon.  He is my
rightful husband.  He is the father of my children.  Bastien
made his choice and no matter how much it must hurt him, he has to
accept that, one way or another.

“Lie back,
please.”  She tries to clear her throat but is wracked by
a small coughing fit.

“Are you
sick?” I ask.

“It is nothing
to worry about.”  Lurime grabs a pillow and eases it
behind my back, helping me to sink down so that I can prop up my leg.
 A month ago, and definitely all the time before that, I would
have been mortified at exposing myself in such a way to a complete
stranger.  Even now I feel some discomfort, but the nearer I
draw to birth the more I long for anything to help speed up the
process.

Her touch is light
as a feather and refreshingly cool.  Her examination is over
much sooner than I would have thought.  She helps adjust my
dress, a welcome addition to my wardrobe since my pants are no longer
an option, as they began to split down the seams only a week ago.
 She makes sure that I am fully covered before she moves toward
my leg. She smirks as I jerk away from her touch.

“The pain you
feel now will be a welcome one once your children decide to come.”

“Gee, thanks,”
I mutter, forcing myself to relax as she deftly changes my soiled
bandage. I did my best to wrap it after I settled into Bastien’s
room but most things are too difficult to manage around the girth of
my stomach.  Bastien tried to help me but managed to be far more
clumsy than I would have thought.  “That makes me feel so
much better.”

She chuckles and
gently pats my leg.  I blink, surprised to find that she is
already done and I have done nothing more than grit my teeth in pain.
“Really?”

“You
are healing nicely.”  She gently lays my leg back onto the
bed and covers me with a blanket.  She comes to the head of my
bed and grasps my arm, assisting me into an upright position so that
I can lean back against a stack of pillows, easing the pressure on my
back.

“How did you
get to be so good at this?  Are you a midwife on your planet?”

Lurime looks away,
turning to grab a bowl and cloth.  She sinks down beside me and
dips the cloth into the water, gently dabbing at my forehead.  “My
mother was a Briathi, a healer.  She taught me her ways, though
I won’t admit to liking her training very much.”  A
softened smile graces her lips at the memory.  “She was a
hard woman to please, but when I did, her smile would light up the
room.  I worked hard for her.  Healed many illnesses.
 Watched many births.  When I was brought here, my skills
became useful.”

“How so?”
I grunt as I try to shift.  She instantly reaches for me and
stuffs another pillow behind my back.  The pressure eases and I
breathe a sigh of relief.  “I don’t see many women
around in need of your services.”

“No.”  I
hear the sound of water dripping as she wrings the cloth again in her
hands before placing it across my brow.  She draws back to cup
her hand to her mouth, covering over another raspy cough.  I can
smell a light floral scent and breathe deep, discovering a peaceful
calm has begun to settle over me.  “I usually tend to the
victims.”

“Victims?”
My eyes flutter open though with far more difficulty than before and
I realize that she has placed something in the water that makes me
drowsy.  “What victims?”

“The Symaica.
 The snake people.”

“Is that what
they are called?”  I yawn and feel my eyes growing heavy.
 “I never knew…”

Lurime leans in
close, her fingers deftly picking up strands of hair from my face and
shifting them away.  “These Symaica are a peaceful people.
 They do no harm to us.”

I try to open my
eyes again but find it easier to keep them closed.  “They
kidnap people.”

“They are only
following orders,” she whispers.

“Orders?”
 I hear a slight buzzing in my ear.  Not like a bee of
Earth but something soft and pleasant.  Like the sound of waves
lapping against the shore or a crackling of fire. “Whose
orders?”

“The Duturi.”

I focus all of my
efforts on opening my eyes now.  “The Duturi are all
dead,” I say, slurring some of the words.

Lurime’s face
becomes a blur before my eyes as she shakes her head.  She turns
her head to the side and coughs twice into her hand before she places
her fingers along the ridge of my eyebrows and slides them down,
sealing my eyes closed.  Then she leans in and whisper into my
ear.  “No, sweet child.  They are not.”

I feel groggy when I
wake the next morning but I am surprisingly aware of only a  minimal
amount of pain.  When Bastien arrives with a tray of steaming
food I don’t snub my nose at it for the first time since
hoisting myself aboard this rocking vehicle.  Instead I tear
into the mystery meat with enough gusto to even bring a smile to his
face.  With juices running down my fingers and chin, I laugh and
slowly lower the meat back to the plate.

“Sorry,”
I pause to wipe myself clean on a small towel he brought for me.  “I
don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“It’s
fine.  I’m sure you are going to go through several
changes as your due date gets closer.”

The tension in his
voice pains me.  I know that I’m the cause for it, but as
hard as I try to convince myself otherwise, I know that I’m not
in the wrong.  Whether Bastien likes it or not, my mind will not
change.  No matter what my feelings for him may have once been,
I am bound by my vows.

He turns and heads
toward the door.  “You’re leaving again?”

Bastien has taken to
leaving me for extended periods of time.  Something I would
never have expected from him.  I frown, reminded once more of
the changes that I have seen in him since he returned to me.  He
has never spoken of the things he must have done to survive.  I
can’t even imagine how he managed to talk Hendrix into moving
an entire army across this filthy swamp in order to find me.  It
must have been one heck of a rousing speech!

His shoulders
stiffen and for a moment I think that he might turn back, even if
only to look at me, but he doesn’t.  He presses his hand
to the keypad.  A bright green light scans his prints and the
doors hisses open and then shuts behind him once more.  I shove
aside my food, suddenly no longer hungry.

I know that he is
angry with me but why does he leave?  I just wanted him to back
off, not be so in my face about his feelings, but I still need him.
 Now more than ever.  Doesn’t he know that?

As I consider his
action I realize that I have to think past my own needs and remember
that he is hurting.  He tried to leave, to let me live my life
and he came back to help me.  By doing so he tore off the barely
healed scab over his wounded heart, and he has been left sickened
with worry and grief for two months.  Can I really blame him for
needing space to sort things out in his mind?

Leaving my partially
eaten meal on the tray, I grab for my walking stick and plant my foot
firmly on the floor.  I take several calming breaths, knowing
that the instant I try to rise my knee will begin to buckle under the
weight.  I place one hand upon my belly and then lift.

I grin in triumph as
I rise to my full height and manage to gain my balance all on my own.
 “See,” I grunt, hopping to adjust the stick under
my arm.  “This isn’t so bad.”

I take one step and
then another.  I’m nearly halfway around the end of my bed
when a shooting pain rips through my stomach.  I double over,
crying out as my leg gives way and I spill to the floor, my only
thought to protect my babies.  I take the brunt of the fall on
my side, slamming my temple into the ground.  Tears erupt from
my eyes as I bit down on my lower lip to still my cries.  My
walking stick clatters to the floor and rolls under the bed and out
of reach.

Curling my legs up
into my stomach I clench my eyes shut, trying to focus on my
breathing around the pain.  It is intense, as if someone has
plunged a knife right through my abdomen.  I grasp the covers,
pulling them down onto the floor.  I wad up a bit of the fabric
and shove it between teeth, biting down hard as a low groan rises in
my throat.

Help
me!
I
know that I should scream for help verbally but the pain is too
great.  I fear that if I remove the gag I will bite down through
my tongue and choke.

Seconds drag into
minutes, perhaps longer, and I come close to blacking out as the
waves of pain come fast and hard.  So quickly that I struggle to
breathe evenly.  I can feel my muscles pulling and contracting.

I hear a knock at my
door nearest my head but it sounds hollow in my ears.  A voice
calls out but my grunts of pain mask it.  Only the shift of air
upon my face makes me realize that someone has entered the room.
 Small, cool hands press against my belly and I beat their hands
away.

“No,”
the voice cries.  I feel myself being turned. The blanket is
pulled from between my teeth and shoved under my head.  The
lower half of it runs down the length of my body and curls under my
good leg, tying my legs together at the thigh.  “Illyria,
listen to me.  You must not push.  Do you understand me?
 Do not push!”

I blink against the
pain, trying to see who hovers over me.  Although I can’t
make out the details of her face I know it is Lurime.  “It
hurts.”

She presses a cool
hand to my face.  “You’re burning up.  Hold on.
 I’ll be right back.”

“No!” I
scream, flailing to grasp a hold of her.  Tears sting my eyes as
I feel her move away.  “Don’t leave me,” I
whimper.

She grips my
shoulder with a firm, reassuring hold.  A small eruption of
coughs escape her lips but she manages a tight smile.  “I’m
right here.  I just need to get you a drink.”

I try to nod, to let
her know that I understood her but I can’t.  Another jolt
of pain takes my breath away and all I can focus on is remembering to
breathe.

Why
can’t I push?  Isn’t that what I’m supposed to
do?  
My
head rolls back and forth as I fight against the need to push.  

“Here,”
I feel something solid press against my lips as she lifts my head.
 “You must drink this.”

I try to swallow the
cold liquid but it tastes rancid.  I choke, spluttering as the
fluid gushes into my mouth.  Lurime holds my head steady,
forcing me to drink the liquid.  When I’ve downed the last
drop she slowly eases me back onto the makeshift pillow.

I can feel the
potent waters slipping through my chest, turning my stomach to ice.
 I begin to shiver, my teeth chattering as the pain begins to
abate.  Lurime holds my hand as time inches past, gently
stroking it.  She hums a beautiful tune, all the while cradling
me beside her.