Elizabeth Haydon - Destiny - Child of the Sky

“Tis as it should be.” Oelendra took the scabbard and slid it through her belt, gave the mare a gentle pat to steady her, then reached out her arms to the child. He pulled back, a look of alarm on his brown face, and clung to Rhapsody.

The Singer leaned forward and spoke softly to the boy, speaking in the dialect of the far western provinces. “It’s all right, Jecen. This is Oelendra; she’s my friend, and she’s very nice. She’ll help you down; don’t be afraid.” The fear in the child’s dark eyes dissipated under the warmth of her smile, and he turned to Oelendra and extended chubby arms.

“What a nice little man. You must be hungry,” the gray-haired woman said, shifting him to her hip and taking the saddlebag Rhapsody held out to her. “Noonmeal is almost ready. Can you make it down with the baby, Rhapsody?”

“Yes,” Rhapsody replied, cradling die infant in her left arm and holding on to the saddle with her right. She swung down off the horse and slung her pack over one shoulder as one of the Lirin guards took hold of die reins and

.—bridle again. “Thank you,” she said to the man, receiving a giddy stare in return. She ran her hand up the mare’s chestnut brow. “Good girl,” she said softly. “Go get some lunch and a nap. You deserve it.” The mare whinnied as if she agreed. Rhapsody patted the nanny goat’s head and scratched its ears before the animals were led away.

“Let us see this little one,” Oelendra said, peering into the baby’s face. Wrapped in the leather bunting was the singularly ugliest Lirin newborn Oelendra ever remembered seeing, but Rhapsody was beaming down at it with a tender look that transformed her face into something radiantly maternal.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” she cooed. “She’s been so patient on this long trip. You’re going to love this one, Oelendra. She’s so good.” Oelendra couldn’t help but smile.

The guards led the horse away, and the two women carried the children toward Oelendra’s quarters, Oelendra feeding Jecen some of the kiran berries she carried in her pocket. “Any problems on the trip?” she asked as the child gobbled the fruit in her hand and then proceeded to raid her pockets.

“Not unless you count this little one constantly trying to nurse,” Rhapsody laughed. “I suppose that’s one of the reasons I like her so much; she’s the first person in the world who thought I had something of substance under my camisole.”

Oelendra smiled again. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“I wish I could have accommodated her, poor baby. I got used to riding with the two of them, the nanny, and a waterskin full of clarified goat’s milk sticking out of my shirt. Thankfully no one stopped me.” Oelendra began to laugh, and opened the flap of the shelter for them to enter.

At the opening they met Quan Li, the oldest of the children Rhapsody had brought to Oelendra. The Singer’s face lit up as she saw the girl. They embraced, and Rhapsody brushed a quick kiss on the side of her head. “How are you, Quan Li?” she asked as Oelendra lowered Jecen to the ground. Rhapsody took his hand and transferred it to the girl. “This is Jecen, and he’s very hungry. Do you think you could take him inside and set him a place for noonmeal? Go with Quan Li, Jecen. I’ll be right in; I want to speak with Oelendra for a moment.” Jecen waved as he was led away, and she waved back.

The women waited until the children were inside the shelter, then walked a few feet away. “How was the birth?” Oelendra asked, running her hand gently over the baby’s pointed head.

“If Fate is kind I will never will have to witness anything like that again,” Rhapsody said, paling at the memory. “I tried to ease the mother’s suffering as best I knew how, but it was all I could do just to deliver her baby and keep the mother alive long enough to get to hold her.” She drew the infant to her cheek and kissed her. “I shudder to imagine what the others have been like, without a healer there to help. They probably didn’t even get to see their children. It makes me ill to think about it.” Her eyes grew misty, and Oelendra put an arm around her shoulder.

“Well, at least ’twas the last one,” she said.

“Not quite,” Rhapsody corrected grimly. “I still have to go get the eldest. With any luck Llauron will have some good ideas about that one. Achmed has gone back to Ylorc already, and I’m not looking forward to going in without him. His help was invaluable in getting the first nine.”

“If you have the right reinforcements, you’ll be fine,” said Oelendra. “Sorbold gladiators are dangerous in the ring and one-on-one, but they are unaccustomed to fighting multiple adversaries. Just make sure you don’t go in alone. And remember, if you get into an untenable situation, kill him. Tis all very well and good to want to save him, but ’tis not worth your life.”

“No, it’s not,” Rhapsody agreed. The baby stretched and yawned, eliciting a delighted response from both women.

“You’re right about her,” Oelendra said. “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s a fighter,” Rhapsody said fondly. “She really did come through an unspeakable nightmare. I wish you could have seen her mother’s face as she held her. She couldn’t speak, but—” Her voice broke, and she bowed her head. When she looked up again, her expression was grim. “This demon really has given me motive to rip his heart out,” she said, without emotion. “It will be returning the favor.”

“Let your hatred pass; he will use it against you,” Oelendra said. She ran her long fingers through the baby’s black hair. “Your reason for destroying him should be this child’s future, not her past. If you keep that fixed in your mind, you will do it because ’tis the right thing to do, not out of revenge. There is more power in the former than the latter. ’Tis something I cannot do; my hatred is too entrenched, but you, Rhapsody, you have the chance to set things right. Don’t let the atrocity of his actions ruin your focus.”

“When you talk like that, you sound just like my mother did,” Rhapsody said, smiling. “I often wonder if the two of you were related.”

“She and I have some things in common,” Oelendra said, returning her smile. “Now, what are we going to name this little one?” She watched the scowl on the infant’s face deepen as her lips protruded in her sleep, making suckling motions.

“There she goes again,” Rhapsody laughed. “Some funny things come to mind, but I think I’d like to call her Aria.” She caressed the baby’s tiny hand, the memory of Ashe rising up in her heart. She felt the loss of him acutely, each time she was reminded of how things would never be the same, like the way she would never hear him call her by that name again. She thought about the future that was coming closer every day, a future that he would not be a part of, and she ran her finger over the tiny knuckles, thinking that these children might be some consolation when it finally came to pass.

Oelendra had her own memory of the name. “Perfect,” she said softly, thinking back on it.

“My first gift to her was a song, the song that gave her mother a few moments with her,” Rhapsody said, blinking back tears. “If it’s not too presumptuous, someday I’d like to give each child in Tyrian the same gift; a song that is theirs and theirs alone. Maybe even before they’re born, and then it can be their first lullaby. Do you think that’s silly?”

“No,” said Oelendra, smiling fondly at her. “In Serendair the queen I served did something very similar, but with a different kind of gift. You would be perpetuating a fine tradition. Come on, let’s go see the others, I know they’re waiting eagerly for you.” She pulled the tent flap back again for Rhapsody to enter, hearing the chorus of excited greetings as the children swarmed around her, all talking at once. She watched the Singer’s face glow with delight as she bent down to hug them and show them the baby, knowing that it would not be the only tradition of the Seren queen’s that Rhapsody would one day repeat.