David Gemmell - The Winter Warriors

'She wants to know why the queen is in pain,' said Conalin.

'Well,' began Kebra, uneasily, 'she's.. slim in the hips and — ' Sufia's bright blue eyes were locked to Kebra's gaze. '- and…' He swung and called for Nogusta. The child has some questions,' he said, brightly.

'Answer them,' said Nogusta, walking away towards the stream.

Thank you so much,' Kebra called after him. He turned back to Sufia. 'I can't really explain,' he told the child. 'Childbirth is sometimes painful, but soon the queen will be well, and you will be able to see the baby boy. That will be nice, won't it?'

The queen shrieked once more, and Sufia dissolved into tears.

Kebra moved away and began to prepare breakfast. Sitting beside the stream Nogusta and Dagorian talked in low voices. 'Does Bison know what he's doing?' asked the young officer.

'Yes. Believe it or not many of the camp whores request Bison when they are ready to deliver.'

'I can't think why.'

'Maybe he fathered most of the children,' ventured Nogusta. 'But I believe she is in safe hands.'

'Safe hands? How safe are any of us?'

Nogusta heard the fear in the young man's voice. He was concerned, for he had noticed the growing tension in the officer ever since the wolf attack. 'Nothing has changed since you rescued the queen,' he said.

'I didn't rescue her — Ulmenetha did that. And the children. I just came later. And we would all have been killed had you not arrived to kill the lancers. I don't feel that I have been of any real use.' Dagorian sighed. 'I am not like you, Nogusta. Nor the others. You are tough men. The stuff of heroes. I. .' he faltered. 'I am just a failed priest.'

'You do yourself a disservice,' said Nogusta. Dagorian shook his head.

'You remember when you warned me about an attempt on Banelion's life? I went to him, as I told you.' 'Yes. He advised you to stay away from him. That was good advice.'

'Maybe it was — but a hero would have disobeyed him. Don't you see? I was glad to be relieved of responsibility. I thanked him and I left. Would you have done so?'

'Yes,' said Nogusta.

'I don't believe you.'

'I wouldn't lie to you, Dagorian.'

'But would you have felt relief?'

'You are torturing yourself unnecessarily,' said the black man. 'What is really at the heart of this?'

'I am afraid.' He looked into Nogusta's face. 'What is it that you have seen? I need to know.'

'You do not need to know,' Nogusta assured him. 'And it would serve no purpose to tell you. This gift I have is like a sharp sword. It can save a life, or it can take it. At this moment you and I are alive, and we have a mission. All we can do is try to stay alive. What I have seen, or not seen, is irrelevant.'

'That is simply not true,' said Dagorian. 'The future is not set in stone. You could, for example, have seen me walking on a particular cliff top. The ground gives way and I fall to my death. But if you warn me I will not walk on that cliff top. Then I will live.'

Nogusta shook his head. 'I told you once before that the gift is not that precise. I do not choose what to see.'

'I just want to know whether I will survive,' said Dagorian. 'Have you seen that, at least?'

'Ultimately no-one survives,' hissed Nogusta. 'That is the way of life. We are born, we live, we die. All that counts is the manner in which we live. And even that does not count for long. History will forget us. It forgets all men eventually. You want certainty? That is certainty.'

'I fear I may be a coward,' said Dagorian. 'I might run from this mission.'

'You will not run,' said Nogusta. 'You are a man of courage and honour. I know you are afraid. So you should be — for so am I. Our enemies are great in number, and our friends are few. Yet we will do what we must, for we are men, and the sons of men.'

The queen cried out again. Dagorian jerked at the sound, then pushed himself to his feet and walked from the camp.

For more than an hour the group waited, and there was little sound from within the roofless tent. Then Bison emerged, wandered to the fire and ate some of the hot oats Kebra had prepared for breakfast. The bowman approached him.

'What is happening?' asked Kebra.

'She is resting a little,' the giant told him.

'How soon will she have the child?'

Bison shrugged. 'The water sac has burst and the baby is on its way. How long? I don't know. Another hour. Perhaps two or three. Maybe more.'

'That's not very precise,' snapped Kebra. 'I thought you were an expert in this.'

'Expert? A few times doesn't make you an expert. All I know is that there are three stages to birthing. The first is under way. The baby is moving.'

'And the second?'

'The contractions will become more severe as the child enters the birth canal and on into the vagina.'

Kebra smiled. That's the first time I've ever heard you use the correct term.'

'I'm not in the mood for jokes at the moment,' said Bison. 'She's a slim girl, and this is the first child. There's likely to be a lot of torn flesh. And I know little of what to do if anything goes wrong. Has anyone tried again to wake the priestess?'

'I'll sit by her,' promised Kebra.

'You do that. Smack her face. Pour water on her. Anything.'

'As soon as she wakes I'll send her to you.'

Bison rose and ambled back to the tent. Kebra moved to the sleeping priestess. She was no longer bathed in sweat. Her skin was clear and firm, and Kebra was surprised to see how pretty she was now that the excess flesh was gone. And she looked so much younger. He had thought her to be in her forties, but now he saw she was — despite the grey in her blond hair — at least ten years younger. He took her hand and squeezed her fingers. 'Can you hear me, lady?' he said. But she did not stir.

The morning wore on, the sun climbing towards noon. Nogusta, normally so cool and in control, was pacing the camp. Once he approached the tent and called out to Bison. The response was short, coarse and to the point. Nogusta strode to the stream. Kebra, still unable to wake the priestess, joined him there.

'We are losing the time we gained at the bridge,' said Nogusta. 'If this goes on much longer the enemy will be upon us.'

'Bison doesn't know how long the labour will last. It could be hours yet.'

Nogusta suddenly smiled. 'Would you want Bison as the midwife to your first-born?'

'It is a ghastly thought,' admitted Kebra.

No nightmare ever suffered by Axiana had been worse than this. Her dress removed, her bare feet pressing into the damp earth, her lower back a rhythmic sea of pain, she squatted like a peasant beneath an open sky. Her emotional state had been fragile ever since the horror of the events at the house of Kalizkan, and everything since had conspired to fill her with terrible fear. Her husband was dead, her life as a royal princess a diminishing memory. All her life she had been pampered, never knowing hunger or poverty; the heat of summer kept from her by servants with peacock fans, the cold of winter barred from the palace by warm fires and fine clothes of wool.

Only days ago she had been sitting in a padded satin chair amid the splendour of the royal apartments, servants everywhere. And despite her husband's disdain of her, she had been the queen of a great empire.

Now, naked and frightened, she squatted in a forest, wracked with pain, and waiting to birth a king in the wet and the mud.

Beside her the giant, Bison, was supporting her weight. His ugly face was close to hers, and when she turned her head she could feel the coarseness of his bristling moustache against the skin of her face. His left hand was rubbing gently across the base of her spine, easing the pain there. Back in Usa Ulmenetha had showed her the satin covered birthing stool, and quietly explained all the processes of birth. It had almost seemed an adventure then. Fresh pain seared through her and she cried out.