White Blood (10 page)

She released Barilan’s hands and grabbed his feet. “Clappa clappa footikins, all the way to town. Clappa too close and I’ll gobble you down!” She made a great show of munching on his wiggly bare toes, tucking her lips over her teeth to cushion the mock bites. Barilan’s legs flexed, pulling against her grip, his arms waved in excitement, and his mouth split open in a broad gummy smile.

Maryn caught her breath. “Look Semprell, he’s smiling!” Once or twice before she’d though she’d caught the hint of a real smile from him, but this was unmistakable. She couldn’t help but laugh in response to the way his whole face lit up with unrestrained delight. After a moment his expression fell back into its normal eager watchfulness. Maryn attacked his toes again with even greater pretend ferociousness, and was rewarded by a squeal and another excited grin.

“Very good,” Semprell said, her voice approving. Maryn glanced up to find the Under;-;Stewardess beaming proudly at Barilan. “Letwillan says that smiling in the sixth week is a sure sign that his program is proceeding successfully. I must record this immediately.” She hustled off to find the book in which she meticulously noted every little detail of Barilan’s growth.

Maryn made a face at Barilan as soon as she was sure Semprell wouldn’t see. She kept her voice conspiratorially soft. “We know it has nothing to do with her precious Letwillan. Frilan started smiling when he was six weeks old without any…” She trailed off as her throat tightened. She turned away from Barilan and closed her eyes as the inevitable grief rolled over her. She could see Frilan’s smile, just as wide and carefree as Barilan’s was now. How much more would she have treasured those fleeting grins, if she had known how few there would be?

She had to find a way to get Litholl to help her nurse Barilan without so much pain. He was all she had, now. She couldn’t let him be taken from her, too.

After Maryn dressed Barilan in the finest of the new gowns, Semprell led the way to Voerell’s quarters. Maryn had only been there a few times since Barilan’s birth. Voerell evinced little interest in her child. Occasionally when the king visited her she would summon Barilan, but would invariably hold him as little as possible and send him away again as soon as Froethych left.

Maryn didn’t understand how Voerell could bear to have so little contact with her son. Didn’t the princess realize what a precious gift a child was, and how easily lost? Sometimes Maryn’s cheeks grew hot with rage when she thought about it. Maryn would give anything, her life, her soul, to have Frilan back in her arms again. And here Voerell was, casually throwing away the chance to spend time with her son like so much worthless garbage.

It was just as well Barilan didn’t have to be exposed to his mother very often, if that’s the way she felt about him. Far better for him to spend his days in Maryn’s company. She might not be his kin by blood, but at least she knew how to give him attention and affection.

They entered to find Litholl tucking Princess Voerell back into her bed. “Everything is well healed, your Highness. I see no reason why you should not attempt to conceive again as soon as you wish. I’ll be happy to take the last of your cloths and cleanse them for you. Unless you’d rather take care of the matter yourself.”

Voerell waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve already dealt with them. You didn’t think I’d leave them lying around asking to draw specters, did you? I may not be the sorcerer Carlich is, but I can certainly manage to cleanse my own—”

She broke off, seeing Semprell and Maryn. “Thank you, Litholl. You’ll excuse me if I don’t join you while you examine Barilan. I didn’t sleep well last night; I think I shall take a nap.” She beckoned to a servant, who began to draw the heavy curtains around the bed. “Perhaps you should take him into the solar.”

Litholl nodded as Voerell rolled away and pulled the covers up to her chin. “If that’s what you wish, your Highness. It’s important that you get your rest.”

Maryn suppressed a disdainful sniff. The princess had done little but lie abed in the weeks since the birth. It must be nice to have that luxury. Maryn had been back to all her usual work of spinning, cooking and cleaning within a week of Frilan’s birth.

The servant tugged the last curtain closed, shutting Voerell in. Litholl led Semprell and Maryn across the bedroom and through a set of heavy wooden doors. The room beyond was brightly lit by wide windows that gave a pleasant view of the palace gardens and furnished with comfortable upholstered chairs and settees. Maryn breathed a little easier when the stout doors closed behind them, releasing her from the subtle tension she always felt in Voerell’s presence.

“Come here, Prince Barilan, let me see how you’re doing.” Maryn surrendered Barilan into Litholl’s arms. His face clouded, but Litholl caught his eye and stuck her tongue out. Barilan forgot his distress, staring in fascination. She hefted him. “My goodness, I believe you’re twice as heavy as when I last held you. Your nurse must be feeding you well.” She smiled at Maryn, who blushed and dropped her eyes. “So, how are things going, my dear?”

Maryn shot a glance at Semprell. The Under;-;Stewardess was still paying close attention. Maryn shrugged. “Everything’s fine. He started smiling today.”

“How wonderful! Such a happy boy you are.” Litholl seated herself, laid Barilan in her lap, and continued examining him. She offered him her finger, and tested the strength of his grasp when he seized it. “I see he’s holding his head up.”

“Yes,” Semprell jumped in, before Maryn could say anything. “It’s clear how efficacious Letwillan’s exercises have been. We have adhered rigorously to the prescribed schedule. At least for the most part.” Semprell frowned briefly at Barilan.

“I see. Tell me about what you’ve done.” Litholl listened closely as Semprell launched into a detailed account of her work with Barilan. At first the Under;-;Stewardess skimmed over her dissatisfaction with Barilan’s fussiness, but in response to Litholl’s earnest attention and obvious sympathy she eventually gave a full airing of all her complaints.

Maryn shifted from foot to foot. Why was Litholl so patient with Semprell’s whining? The midwife must realize how ridiculous Letwillan’s teachings were. But Litholl continued to nod and murmur in commiseration. Maryn kept an anxious eye on Barilan. For once he seemed content enough, so she remained quiet.

At last Semprell wound down. Litholl shook her head. “That must be terribly frustrating. I’m impressed by how devoted you are, and how determined to persist in the face of such obstacles.” Semprell beamed at the praise.

Litholl turned back to Maryn. “Tell me more about how often he nurses, and for how long. Does he wake at night?”

Maryn was hesitant at first, but Litholl’s attention proved quite as effective at drawing her out as it had with Semprell. At last, someone to talk to who cared what she had to say. Maryn found herself describing Barilan’s nursing patterns in greater and greater detail. She kept her voice bright and positive, doing her best not to betray by word or expression how miserable every feeding had become for her. But she watched for any chance to speak more openly.

At last her opportunity came. Semprell’s attention wandered as Maryn spun out the minutiae of her account as much as she could. The Under;-;Stewardess drifted over to the window to gaze at the riot of flowers below. Maryn dared to lean close to Litholl and drop her voice. “Please, if I could speak with you alone, I can’t tell you everything while Madam Semprell is listening—”

Semprell turned back from the window. Maryn broke off. Litholl’s eyes widened a bit, but she only nodded gravely. “I see. If you could tell me a bit more about—Excuse me, Semprell. I need to get a few more details from Maryn, but you’ve managed to intrigue me about Letwillan’s work. You’ve had such good results. I must admit I haven’t read the full treatise. If you have a copy I might borrow…?”

“Of course.” Semprell brightened. “I’d be happy to fetch mine for you.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to take your own copy; you must need it often. But if the palace library has an extra, or if you could arrange for a scribe to prepare one for me, I’d be happy to purchase it.”

“No, no. I’m sure King Froethych would be glad to provide it for you. I’ll go see about making the arrangements right now.” Semprell hurried away with a bouncy step.

As the doors closed behind her, Litholl turned back to Maryn. She disentangled Barilan’s hand from the wad of her sleeve he had dragged to his mouth and gummed until it was drenched, and gave him her little finger to suck instead. “Now, child, what’s troubling you?”

Maryn dropped her eyes. “Barilan really does nurse the way I told you. But I couldn’t let Madam Semprell know how badly it hurts. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but there must be something, because my nipples are so sore. It was never like this with Frilan.” She struggled to hold back tears.

“Let me see,” Litholl said. Maryn glanced up, afraid to see condemnation in the midwife’s face, but Litholl wore only an expression of concern and interest. Maryn undid the ties of her shift and pulled it down to display her cracked and bloody nipples for Litholl’s examination.

“Oh, my dear,” Litholl exclaimed. She tutted to herself as she looked closely at Maryn’s damaged nipples. “I had no idea! How long have they been like this?”

Tears choked Maryn’s throat. “All along, really. It’s always hurt when Barilan nursed, right from the first day. I kept trying different ways to hold him, and nursing him less, or more, but nothing I did made it any better. I couldn’t let anyone know…” She scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

“I’m so sorry you’ve had to endure this, Maryn. I wish you had come to me earlier. I could have helped you fix the problem before it became so severe.” Maryn squirmed in shame, but Litholl put a hand on her arm. “Never mind. Let’s see what we can do now. Here, take Barilan back and offer him your breast, so I can see what’s going on.”

Maryn accepted Barilan into her arms, wincing in anticipation. Barilan was almost always happy to nurse when offered the opportunity; he seized her nipple now with his usual enthusiasm. Pain shot through Maryn’s breast, but she ignored it as best she could, focusing on Litholl as the midwife studied them. Litholl moved around and leaned over to get a better view of the place where Barilan’s mouth met Maryn’s breast.

“Yes, it’s just as I thought. See how his mouth is hardly open, and his lower lip is tucked under? No wonder you’re in such pain. He’s got too little of your breast in his mouth; all his sucking is right down on the tip of your nipple. I’m only surprised he’s managed to get as much milk as he obviously has, to grow so well.”

Maryn gulped. “I’m sorry. I knew he didn’t open his mouth as wide as Frilan always did, but I didn’t think it would make such a difference. I should have done something about it; I should have known I was doing it wrong—”

“By the Holy One, Maryn, it’s not your fault. If anyone’s to blame it’s me, for not checking on you sooner. Now let’s put aside regrets for what might have been and concentrate on solving the problem. Here, take him off before he does any more damage.”

“Can you? Solve the problem, I mean? You’re not going to tell Madam Coewyn to find another nurse for Barilan? You don’t think my nipples are hurt too much to fix? I don’t see how they can ever heal, if he keeps nursing on them and breaking the cracks open.” Maryn slipped her finger into the corner of Barilan’s mouth and broke the seal of his lips on her skin. The suction released and her nipple slid from his mouth, granting blessed relief from her pain. Barilan squalled in complaint.

“You’d be surprised. If we can get him latching correctly, the cracks will heal well enough. I think we can fix the problem, yes, though it won’t be easy. He’s had a long time to get used to doing it the way he likes; he won’t want to change. You’ll have to be stubborn and insist that he do it your way.”

“Whatever it takes.” The thought of being able to nurse Barilan with the same relaxed ease she’d felt with Frilan seemed an impossibly enticing dream. “But how can I get him to change the way he nurses?”

“Here, let me show you.” Litholl gestured for Maryn to sit, and moved around behind her. “Hold him the way you do when you’re beginning to nurse him. Yes, like that. Now, instead of letting him lie on his back, with his head turned to the side, turn his body so his belly faces yours. See, now he can look straight ahead at your breast; that will allow him to open his mouth much wider.”

Litholl put her arms around Maryn and adjusted the set of her hands on Barilan’s body. Maryn struggled to comply, though the new position felt awkward and unnatural.

“Now move him this way a little, and support your breast with your free hand. Instead of aiming your nipple at the center of his mouth, hold him so it points towards his nose.”

“His nose!” Maryn almost laughed. Barilan squirmed, struggling to get back into his comfortable accustomed position. Maryn couldn’t manage to aim her nipple anywhere, let alone the way Litholl wanted her to. Her hands slipped, and Barilan almost slid from her lap. She scrambled to get a better grip and repositioned him, feeling clumsy and self;-;conscious.

But Litholl remained patient, waiting until Maryn had returned Barilan close enough to the correct position. “Yes. He’s been keeping his chin tucked down into his chest. If your nipple is near his nose when you move him toward your breast, that forces him to tilt his head back to reach for it, and that will allow his mouth to open wider. Try it, bring him in.”

Maryn attempted to pull Barilan in close. He kicked, and fought, and her breast mashed into his cheek, nowhere near his mouth. Thoroughly upset now, Barilan began to wail in earnest. Maryn felt perilously close to doing the same.

“It’s all right. Try again.”

For a moment Litholl’s continued calm infuriated Maryn. What the midwife was asking was impossible; her ridiculous instructions would never accomplish anything, but only make Maryn appear incompetent and subject her to further humiliation. Nothing could ever allow Maryn to nurse Barilan properly. She might as well give up now, confess her failure to Semprell, and run as far and as fast as she could away from this miserable place.