Constanta woke at her desk.
She found herself sleeping in the strangest of places, so weary both from carrying her child, and the weight of the village and its troubles upon her shoulders. She had not woken with the coming of the morning, or any great announcement, merely the arrival of her dearest friend, Morrigan.
They spoke of the awful quiet. Of the weariness they both felt.
"I don't know how much more I can take," said Constanta, weariness still clinging to her.
"As much as ourselves combined. I am nowhere near giving up. You may borrow from me, if you feel the need." Morrigan's reply warmed Constanta's spirit a little, but still the heaviness pressed against her weary bones. She felt the kicks in her belly, and wished wordlessly for the strength to bear it all, for the sake of the child within her. For her people. For Dimitry. She drew a few deep breaths. The air of the House felt stale in her lungs, embittered by the grief for its lost lord that enveloped it.
She needed air.
She walked with Morrigan through the village she loved. She tried to keep her worries concealed as she looked at the villagers, not wishing to frighten them. They looked to her to show strength, in Dimitry's absence. Her gait was a little awkward; the ground was muddied by the rain, and her steps were altered by the heaviness of her belly. She pressed on through the village and through the rows of tents that seemed now to be a natural feature of the meadows beyond. The prospectors went about their business. The guards stood, watchful. One in particular, Krofburg's Lance Corporal, Stefan Raducan, watched the road. They spoke for a short time of matters troubling the village. And then they heard it.
Through the rainfall, thick and heavy, it came. The din of hoof-beats, echoing in the mountain pass. They echoed through the high places, the stone throwing the sound so that it confused the air. It was impossible to tell how many came, except that there were many.
The horses were huge, taller than the trio - Constanta, Stefan, and Morrigan - and their horsemen were of stature to match their steeds. They did not slow at all as they passed them on the road, kicking up the mud and sending it flying over the three as they galloped past. Constanta noted their colours and crests as they sped past.
These were the Count's men, and they made for the village itself.
Constanta was already worn from her walk through the village; she struggled back along the road, gasping for breath, returning once more to her Lord's house. The carriage had come to a rest outside, surrounded by Von Zarovich's soldiers. The steps of the carriage were lowered, and one by one, the travellers within stepped out.
"It's been so long since I smelled that particular variety of shit." These were the words of the first man to descend the steps. Following behind, a larger woman in a gown of yellow and blue laughed at his words. Next, came a larger man, who immediately stood to the side of the carriage. Very soon afterwards, a young woman stumbled down the steps, almost falling, bracing herself against the larger man's shoulder as she hastily pulled her dress over her form. The larger man looked at her with contempt as she did this. Constanta's heart sank a little as she put it all together.
But after her came a figure that Constanta instantly knew, though she had not seen him before. He stepped down from the carriage in a leisurely manner, running the back of his hand over his mouth. He was whip-thin, a narrow man, but the family resemblance was striking.
"Edoard..." Constanta whispered, her eyes going wide. She fought back tears. She had known that he was coming, but to see him now, to see that the missive was true and their worst fears confirmed...
Edoard was taking in his surroundings, taking in the buildings he had never seen. Constanta felt anger well within her. He was last in the village before it burned, destroyed by the spawn of Iadul. He had been absent when Krofburg cried out in her suffering. He had been absent when Dimitry cradled his daughter's charred corpse in his arms, and mourned his wife Alina. He had abandoned his duty, and treated the kindness of his younger brother with scorn.
"You..." Constanta drew a breath, trying to speak loudly, to keep her tears back as the rain beat down upon her. "You are here at the House of Lord Dimitry Bochinsky. What... what business brings you?"
Edoard's entourage responded with cruel laughter, by and large, though the young woman who had been in a state of undress looked away. Constanta drew a breath, pushing back her sodden cowl, trying to keep her chin held high.
"There is no 'Lord Dimitry Bochinsky', girl," the first man said, "There was only a criminal and an usurper... and he has been brought to justice after many long years." Constanta sensed Stefan's jaw tighten beside her.
"Where is he?" Constanta asked, hesitantly. She believed that she knew, but could that have changed? Did her lord, her love, live or die? The man ignored her.
"Before you stands the lord of the mountain, granted to you by warrant of the Count himself. Lord Edoard Bochinsky, Burgomaster of Krofburg!"
There were gasps among Krofburg's guards. Stefan swallowed.
"We are to bow, aren't we, doamna?" Stefan whispered to Constanta.
"Kneel before your Burgomaster!" The first man commanded. Loathing, mostly for herself, rose up in Constanta as she knelt slowly in the mud, her child kicking more than ever in her womb. She held protectively to her belly. She looked down at the sodden, muddy earth and began to weep, silently, though this was largely masked by the rain that still pelted the village.
"Rise," came Edoard's voice, and he gestured with an upturned palm. Morrigan aided Constanta in her difficult ascent. Constanta leaned heavily upon her rod of office, offering Morrigan a look of gratitude for her aid.
"Welcome to Krofburg, Burgomaster," offered Stefan, formally. Constanta did not detect much feeling in it.
"And your name, guardsman?"
"Stefan Raducan, Lance Corporal."
Constanta trembled, soaked through with the rain, emotion welling within her.
"Easy, easy..." Morrigan's voice came softly. Constanta felt Edoard's gaze shift to her.
"And yours?"
Constanta tried to speak in a loud, clear voice.
"Constanta Lazarescu. Steward of Krofburg."
"You are my brother's concubine." Constanta's heart leapt, and it felt as though it had fallen into her stomach. What had he said to Dimitry? What words had Edoard drawn from her beloved's lips? What cries?
"I will not deny it," she replied, in a softer voice, now. Her hand remained protectively over her belly, the other still firm around her rod. "I would not. I am not ashamed."
"It is perfectly customary for Barovian lords to take concubines. Less so to make them their Stewards." Constanta did not feel shame. This is not how it had been at all, not for her and Dimitry. She began to speak.
"I was..."
Edoard drew closer. Constanta felt his eyes heavy against her form, changed as it was in maternity. She could almost hear the lurid thoughts in his head, and she trailed off, disgusted, before drawing a breath to continue. "His Steward, long before..."
"That said, I can see why my brother was tempted." Constanta's blood ran cold. She remembered all her love had said about his brother's lechery. How he often traveled, in his misspent youth, to Vallaki for the whoring. He will not have the same from me, she vowed inwardly. "But do not worry, madamoazela, I have no need of your services in that regard." Edoard looked at his woman, and she winced, looking down at the ground. Constanta's attention was drawn to her, worry creasing her brow. She wondered from where he had taken the woman, for surely no woman would willingly make love to the man before her.
Her attention soon returned to Edoard, however, as he began to whisper. "It's unfortunate, my dear, that your child's parentage should be so well-known. Otherwise, I might have been inspired to show mercy..."
Constanta shrank back. "No..."
"Lance Corporal!" Edoard barked, "Arrest this... 'Steward'. Put her in the cells."
"Stefan!" Constanta cried, looking at the man she had come to trust. The man who had prayed with her. The one who had stood with her on the mountain road as they watched for her lord. The one who had been loyal in these dark times. Beside her, Morrigan growled.
"She is complicit in my brother's crimes, I am afraid." Edoard added.
"Constanta," came Morrigan's voice in a whisper, "We have to go."
"No, that... that is death, Morrigan." Constanta eyed the many soldiers in the vicinity, the horsemen and those dark figures with red eyes....
"Now, Lance Corporal, I shall not ask again." Stefan was conflicted, his movements slowed by his loyalty. "Doamna," he said softly, turning to Constanta. She opened her mouth to speak... and then the sharp pang came.
"Agh!" She drew her hand tightly over her belly as the pain screeched through it. Slowly, slowly, Stefan took his shackles from his pack, still hesitating with every movement. Edoard was firm.
"Do not force me to ask these... friends of mine to do your job for you, Lance Corporal. You will regret it."
Constanta held out an arm for Stefan to shackle, surrendering herself. She could see no other way. All other paths were to death.
And then it happened. Constanta felt the water between her thighs, almost missing it for the heavy rain that still soaked her.
"Constanta!" Morrigan cried, as Stefan began to lead the trembling Steward towards the barracks. "Constanta, what would you have of me?"
Constanta's eyes were full of tears, her sight blurred. "Look... look to the people, Morrigan." A new wave of pain crashed through Constanta's body, and only now did it all sink in. "Help.... ah! Morrigan... get my mother!" Now that he was here, and now that the world was upside-down... now her child was ready to meet the world, wretched as it now was.
Stefan led her inside. "Stefan, the child, the child..." Constanta stammered with the pain, shivering as her sodden form met the sudden warmth of the barracks. Stefan reeled in shock.
"Is... is it coming?"
"I think so." Stefan was at a loss, still holding onto her shackles. "Take me to the cell, I don't want you in trouble." He helped her to settle down gently upon the floor of the cell, her back to the wall.
"Do you need help?" He whispered, worry in his voice.
"I asked Morrigan to fetch my mother. She... she will be so worried, but I need her now." Her words were cut short by another cry of pain. She felt it in her whole body, sore and desperate and damp. It was not meant to be like this. No, Dimitry was supposed to be here, and she was to be on his bed, in comfort, attended by her mother in calm and quiet. Not like this...
There came heavy knocks upon the door of the hut. Stefan ran to meet them. A man (who was not Morrigan) appeared with a smile.
"Dawn's blessings!" Constanta knew his voice; he had recently come to the village with his fellows from the Church of the Morninglord to ask to hold their ceremony there. But this was not the voice Constanta wished for now. She screamed again as the pain arced through her once more. Stefan gasped.
"Domn, are you skilled in helping a mother give birth?"
"I have seen it done many times. I have never done it." Constanta screamed again.
"Stefan! My mother... please, find her, I sent Morrigan after her..."
"Steward, Morrigan is on her way to your mother," came the man's voice. Through the pain, she managed to remember his name - Kerdic.
"Thank-" she began, before descending into sobs, trembling in agony, before the tears took over. She wept for more than her own pains.
She wept for the House that had been conquered by a terrible pretender. She wept for her people who would suffer under him. She wept for the office she had lost, the place she had been given to help her people. She wept for her lord, alone in darkness, if he still lived at all. She wept for their bed, and the sanctuary within it that Edoard would surely despoil.
She fought for breath as Kerdic knelt beside her, speaking soft words that she barely heard to try to comfort her. He told her to be calm, to count between the contractions. Constanta mourned aloud for her people. Her breaths were deep and sharp, like little knives in her lungs. Through the pain, Constanta saw a familiar face.
"Mother!"
"Constanta!"
Kerdic stood aside, allowing Anca Lazarescu to draw close to her daughter, still sodden, still trembling, still writhing in pain.
"Mama, please... help me. I am so afraid..." Anca knelt over her daughter, bringing her hands quickly to Constanta's belly, fear and worry writ large on her own face. Guilt welled in Constanta's trembling body, and she held her mother's hands as they lay over her belly, breathing in pained gasps.
More shouts echoed around the barracks as Morrigan returned, her friend Shannon in tow.
"Shannon, come on! She's in labour!" The air was frantic and tight, and it felt wrong in Constanta's lungs. Just then, a new voice pierced the din - that of Edoard's right-hand man.
"What's going on here?!"
"Sir, she is giving birth," came Stefan's reply through the shouts. Behind Edoard's man, a soldier dressed in Von Zarovich colours entered the barracks. One of Krofburg's men reached out to place a hand on the soldier's plate.
"Now, hold on, you can't just-"
He did not finish his sentence before the soldier's blade cleaved him in two.
"NO!" Constanta cried out. How much blood of the mountain had been spilled? How many had died? How many had she failed?
The response was visceral, frantic. More screams and shouts were flung around the tiny hut.
"Lance Corporal," Edoard's man began, "Everyone but the prisoner will leave immediately. Then we will deal with you."
"She's giving birth," Kerdic said.
"Do I look like I care? Out!"
Constanta clung feverishly to her mother's hand. "Mother..." She said, softly, desperately.
Beyond the bars, blood dripped from the Von Zarovich soldier's blade.
"She's to die in the morning anyway." Edoard's man added. The words barely registered with Constanta for a moment, so overwhelmed by her agony as she was. Anca Lazarescu refused to move, her voice quiet but firm.
"My daughter, I fear what they will do... this child is breached. The child must be born in a bed with proper attention. You must go from here."
"Mama, no..." Constanta's whispers were harsh for all the pain she was in, "How? They... they will kill me. My child..."
"I won't let them. I won't let them!" Anca's voice was anguished, but firm. Just then, Stefan pulled Anca back, as the man still shouted at those who were not Constanta to leave.
"DON'T HURT HER!" Constanta bellowed, fear rising in her as her mother was torn from her, her desperate vow still ringing in her daughter's ears.
"Outside. Final warning." The man's voice was stern, final. Anca Lazarescu drew close to the door of the hut, moving as though to leave. She paused. And then she shouted.
"DEATH TO THE TYRANT!" Anca cried, "DEATH TO THE TYRANT! DOWN WITH THE COUNT!"
Constanta's eyes went wide as the solider turned his attention on her mother.
"Mother! MOTHER!"
"Get up, when I say it..." Came Stefan's whispers beside her.
Anca fled.
The Von Zarovich soldier pursued.
Soon, the barracks were almost empty, save Constanta, Stefan, Kerdic, and Edoard's man. "Run, when I knock him down," said Stefan quietly.
Then, Stefan left the cell, not locking the gate behind him.
"Get that man out of here, Lance Corporal." Edoard's man barked, gesturing to Kerdic.
"Of course," Stefan said. And then he and Kerdic struck the man down. Constanta stifled a sob as the man's corpse hit the floor, pulling herself to her feet and leaving the cell. Constanta's office had been taken from her, but Stefan now surrendered his, bravely.
Constanta followed Stefan into the night, Kerdic at her side, and they hurried around the rear of the hut, out of sight. Constanta peered around the corner, and froze.
She saw her mother's face. Her head, severed from her corpse, lying in the mud. Before her stood the soldier. It spoke in a rattled hiss.
"The will of the Count must be done!"
Constanta wept, sparing a single sob in the night's gloom, the rain still relentless.
"Mother..." Constanta whispered. She looked to Kerdic, still beside her. Stefan was gone. Constanta would not waste the opportunity she had been given. Stefan had paid with his office, his safety. Her mother had paid with her life. She fought back the urge to scream in grief, knowing this would kill her and the child who was still being born, even now. "We... we must go. "
❆
They ran through the treeline, behind the buildings. Constanta did not run on her own strength, but was instead driven by the fear that if she was spotted... if she was seen by the Count's horsemen, then it would be over. She could not die. Her child could not die. Not after all that had been spent.
Spent... she felt it. She felt her child trying to come, but the child, like the world, was upside-down, and was tearing her as she ran. Her wrists were heavy with the shackles around them. And still the rain continued.
"I need a bed," she whispered, harshly, "She said... the child is breached. Mother..." She sobbed at the thought of her mother, the image of her severed head never shifting from Constanta's mind. The only thing that kept her from tumbling to her feet, from stopping and giving herself a moment to grieve, was the child that still fought to live. For the child's sake, and for hers, she had to fight.
"Can you keep going?" Kerdic asked as they continued to run, Constanta's breaths hoarse as her throat became raw.
"Yes, we must... to a bed." Down the mountain, they ran. Constanta's legs trembled violently, so sore that she could scarcely feel them at all. Down, down, down they ran, until the pain became unbearable, and for a moment Constanta believed that she was being torn in two. She screamed. Kerdic supported her weight, cursing under his breath. "Please..." Constanta begged him, hoarsely, "you are my one hope." With Kerdic bearing the bulk of her weight, Constanta managed to run with him along the final stretch of the mountain path. Barovia's sky was still dark and wet. Where could they go? Were they followed?
They were almost off the mountain now. But now, the mountain itself was shaking. Constanta's mind rushed for a moment as she thought of the mission that Edoard had forced her to abandon. The Sleeper was stirring.
A piece of rubble fell and struck Constanta's brow, dizzying her. She would have fallen down the steps had Kerdic not been there to bear her weight. For at least the third time that night, Constanta's life had been saved. He kept her still, when wolves gave chase, and he put them all down as she hid behind the rocks.
A dark shrouded figure appeared beside them. Constanta was about to scream, until she saw who it was.
"Morrigan!" Morrigan carried Constanta now, leading her towards a place of safety. For a moment, she was relieved that Morrigan was with her. How she had brought her mother to her side. Her mother...
"I..." Constanta sobbed. "I killed her..."
"You did no such thing, quiet. We are almost safe now." Morrigan's voice had taken on the sternness it had when she was passionate. Even in bluntness, it revealed that she cared much. She looked to Kerdic, now. "Find me Shannon, immediately. I will be here."
Morrigan bore Constanta inside, upstairs. Finally, she was able to lie down upon a bed, as her mother had advised, as Morrigan removed her shackles. The moment that she stopped running, and no longer was distracted with thoughts of her immediate survival, the pain grew to be immense. She cried out as it overwhelmed her.
"Constanta!" Morrigan's voice came again, worried.
"Morrigan, Mother... she said that the child is breached. I... I need help."
"Shannon will be here soon, she will help you."
"Mother..." Constanta whispered, hoarsely, the memory filling her mind again, "I am so sorry..."
Between rasps of pain, Constanta sobbed. Morrigan embraced her where she lay.
"I will protect you. Please do not give in. Do not give up. Take from me. Take from me, as I said."
"Raducan, he... he killed to protect me. He will be in grave trouble. Oh, Stefan..."
It was then that Shannon arrived. Constanta told her, in hurried breaths, of her child's dilemma. There was talk of a surgeon. Morrigan moved to help Constanta up from the bed, but she did not move. Her body refused. "No, I... I can't!"
"Constanta! We have to! You may die, you may both die!"
"Bring... bring them here, please. I... I have run all I can..."
Morrigan bade Shannon stay to tend Constanta's wounds and to try to keep her condition from deteriorating. Shannon placed a hand on Constanta's shoulder, healing her wounds, the claw marks from the wolves and the bleeding caused by the fallen rubble fading away. She told Constanta to drink from her flask, and she did, letting it soothe her throat a little before the pain overtook her again. When she began to complain, to mourn for her people, to curse Edoard, she bid Constanta focus on her breathing, placing gentle hands on her abdomen.
"You are doing well. You must remain calm. There is only peace for you and your child, we will make deadly sure of it." Constanta continued to work to ease her breathing, a few choked sobs occasionally tumbling out. Her pillow was soaked. "I'm sorry, Constanta, I meant to be there sooner. Please forgive me."
"You... there is nothing to forgive." Constanta spoke softly.
"This dawn belongs to you and your child. There will be another to right these wrongs." As Shannon examined Constanta, all she had been told about the breech birth was confirmed; the child was reversed, and the umbilical cord did not look as it should. "I need you to hold on a little longer. When Morrigan is here, everything will be alright."
It was only moments later that Morrigan arrived, the surgeon in tow.
"Where is the patient?!" Came the surgeon's voice.
"On the bed!" Morrigan's familiar voice brought a little comfort to Constanta, despite the pain and shouting. She groaned.
"Help... please, help me."
"Do not fear, my dear one. I will help you!" He reached out to examine her. "On second thought, you are going to die."
"What?!" Morrigan was incredulous. "This isn't the time for jokes!"
"I never joke!" went the surgeon.
Morrigan's response was swift and firm.
"There is a capable priestess of the Morninglord here, she will not die, with you two working together. Just instruct her!" The surgeon looked again to Constanta.
"I am going to have to move the child inside you, doamna. You may suffer great loss of blood. Outside, you two, let me work!"
"Do... do what you must." Constanta's voice was fainter as she replied.
"Be strong, Constanta." Shannon's voice echoed strangely in Constanta's ears for a moment as she fought to stay awake. As the door closed, the surgeon lowered his voice.
"Well, then, my dear. You seem to have gotten yourself in quite the pickle." Constanta was in no mood for his levity.
"My mother died for this. It must not be in vain, you hear me?" Her words were barely audible, through all her pain.
"I see. I am sorry to hear that. Life can be bitter, no?" He began to work to try to move the child, still speaking quietly. "I take it neither of those lovely ladies is the father?" Constanta thought of Dimitry, alone in the dungeons of Castle Ravenloft, and wept, knowing that it could be excused with the pain.
"He... he cannot be here."
"Ah, so it's like that, eh?"
"No, no... he... he is a good man. The..." She stopped for a moment, groaning in pain, "the finest of men."
Just then, Morrigan and Shannon burst back into the room, eager to assist, but in their eagerness, they had startled the surgeon, and his hands had slipped. A stab of pain ran through Constanta's belly, and she cried out for the agony it caused her.
"Every moment counts!" The surgeon cried, "If you want to be of use, come here and hold her down. Talk to her. But do nothing without my say so!" Constanta continued to sob, the pain growing no easier to bear for how long she had withstood it. Blood stained the bedclothes red. The pain grew and grew, until eventually, it wracked her entire body as all her muscles went into spasm at once. She screamed, a scream so loud that it filled the whole district.
Shannon tried to keep Constanta calm through her screaming. "She is watching over us, Constanta, your mother-"
"Mist weed. I need mist weed." The doctor's declaration was sudden, urgent. Morrigan was able to produce a single knot of it. "That's not enough! I need more... at least five!"
"No one's going to have that around here!" Morrigan's mind raced as she thought of a way through this.
"I can keep her alive, but I do not know how long. We must have it!" A thought crystalised in Morrigan's mind.
"Stay here and keep her spirits up, Shannon." And then she ran. Shannon turned her attention fully once more to Constanta, whose responses were less formed words and more sobs.
"Constanta. She is watching. You must be strong for her. I can feel it. I can feel her gaze. She is with the lord now, watching you."
"Mama, I... sorry..." She sucked in a deep breath before the pain took her again, and she sobbed.
"Do not be afraid. Do not let fear and guilt shackle your soul. Hold fast, Constanta. For in the dawn there is life again." Constanta continued to focus on her breathing, trying to stay awake. "There is still hope, Constanta. Morrigan will return. Be steady." She gave Constanta more to drink; she swallowed the water in sore gulps. "Let his strength be yours, Constanta. I ask you to endure just a little bit longer. For her."
Constanta thought of her mother. She thought of all she had given for her. She thought of her people, suffering. She thought of her lord, alone.
"I... I'll try."
"That you hold on is sacred. The Lord will not forget you. Do not let your eyes leave me. Please, tell me the name of your child, Constanta." She remembered one conversation she had with Dimitry, when he had kissed her belly, and they spoke of the child.
"We... we never chose, for fear of bringing about a cruel fate. It seems... that was not enough." She kept her focus on Shannon, her sight blurred with weary, anguished tears.
"True hope is going on no matter what. There are no bad turns in good intentions. There are only villains in disguise. Do not let these villains dishearten you. It is time to name your child whose life is about to begin."
"I... I do not even know if it is a boy or a girl who now wishes to come. But... if she is a girl, she... she must be Anca. After my mother."
Shannon regarded her with a calm that set her spirit a little at ease, but Constanta saw determination in her glassy eyes.
"She would have your mother's undying love for you. You have chosen well, Constanta." A thought formed in Constanta's mind.
"For a boy? Perhaps... Stefan, for what he did for me."
"The honours you place on those who have sacrificed for us will not be forgotten by the Lord. Keep holding on. Please."
Constanta fought as blood continued to pool below her. She blinked, remembering that night, all those years ago, that she had seen her mother on the steps of their home, losing the child between her legs. She remembered lying in Dimitry's arms as the child Stela stole from them left her body. But this was different. Now, it was herself she felt slipping away.
"I don't want to die..."
"Your mother's spirit is beside you. You will not die."
"Mother... you... you won't lose your girl yet. I... I'll try." A solemn smile came to Shannon's lips.
It was then that Morrigan burst through the door.
"Fortune must love me. I ran into Conner. He gave me everything he had." She gave the precious weed to the surgeon, who immediately took some instruments from his bag to begin macerating the leaves. Then, Morrigan leant against the bookshelf, utterly exhausted. The surgeon turned to Constanta and leaned over her, opening her mouth to place the leaves inside.
"Chew, please." Constanta did as she was instructed, and she felt a warming numbness spread through her body. Some of the tension in her exhausted muscles eased. The pain, while present, became easier to bear. "Now, doamna, I will need you to push."
"Tell... tell me when."
"Whenever's convenient. No... that was actually a joke. Now!" Constanta took a deep breath, and began to push with all she had left. She drew from stores of strength that were not physical. It was only force of will that allowed the former Steward to fulfill this duty. Shannon squeezed her hand with one of her own, the other pushing her down at the shoulder to steady her. Constanta clung with her free hand to the bloodied bedclothes.
"A new dawn comes. To life, from the dust and ash of death. Your mother's immortal spirit protects you, Constanta. Keep pushing." Constanta did, for all she was worth, for all she had and more, crying a desperate cry.
Feet first, the infant arrived. Constanta collapsed against the blankets.
"Is it a boy or a girl?" Morrigan's voice came, curious. Shannon held the child, large and wrinkled. A healthy little boy.
Constanta cried out again as a new pain took her, confusion creasing her brow. "What... what is...?"
"It can't be!" The surgeon announced, examining her, carefully. "It can!"
"What's the problem?" Morrigan's voice had that sternness again, the sternness that revealed the depth of her care.
"Doamna, there's... a second infant."
"Twins?!" Constanta's voice came out in a half-shriek from the shock of this revelation.
"The first infant was so large that he blocked me from feeling the second... no wonder they were contorted!"
Constanta drew another breath, readying herself for another push. "Now, doamna!" She did not know where she took this strength from, as every limb trembled and her sight blurred. Perhaps this was what they meant about mothers being strong. Constanta made a silent wish to be strong, in this. To be as a good a mother to her children as hers had been to her. Shannon's voice came again.
"Constanta, do not give in! The pain- do not let the pain overwhelm you! Push!" As she did so, she heard a loud, piercing cry. Her son, gasping in the air outside his mother's womb.
"My boy!" Her words were almost strangled. The pain arced one more time, subdued a little by the mist weed. And then it stopped. "Is... is it over?" She fell again upon the bedclothes, drenched in rain, tears, blood and sweat. Her dark hair clung to her neck, her bloodied legs cold with the damp and the air.
"Yes, doamna. You have a daughter, as well."
"Let me... let me see them." The surgeon laid the girl against her breast. She was smaller than her brother, and dark in colour, like burgundy wine. Then, he took her son from Shannon, and set him in Constanta's arms. Constanta sobbed in relief. There was a warm sensation that welled in her chest now, as the love she felt for her children bloomed through her whole battered body, lifting her spirits, granting her a second wind. Morrigan fought for breath, relieved but clearly still recovering from her run to find the herbs that had eased Constanta's pain, and allowed her to survive her children's difficult birth. Shannon's voice came again.
"Bless these new lives as they enter our world. Guard them as they begin their journey under your bright sun. Guide them with your light, lord..." As she finished her prayer, the surgeon interjected with more prosaic matters.
"I presume you can wash them and see to their immediate needs, doamna? This has been long, and I have other patients." Shannon nodded to the surgeon. Constanta thanked him, over and over, as the end of the harshest pain allowed new and better feelings to be felt. Love. Gratitude. Hope.
Morrigan paid the surgeon's fee. He had asked a mere one hundred fang for the miracle that had been performed. Morrigan saw that he was paid more than this. Shannon carefully washed the pair's faces while Constanta held them, kissing them gently, lovingly upon their heads. "A boy and a girl... it is just as you said. Anca and Stefan. The only prophecy worth believing is the one we can bring about ourselves. You have brought them into this world, Constanta, with your word."
Aided by Morrigan, Constanta sat up, bringing one child to each breast to nurse them. The pair nursed eagerly, but Constanta noted that Anca did not cry out, as her brother had done. She would need more help, more food, more care. But she would be alright. That was Constanta's solemn, silent vow.
Shannon looked upon Constanta as she nursed her children. "I have never seen such strength in my life, Constanta. Today, you have given them life, but you have also given me hope."
An aftershock rippled from the mountain, drawing the trio from their weariness, for a moment. Constanta thought again of their mission. The Sleeper under the mountain.
There was much to do. They would need allies to aid them with the Sleeper. To help Krofburg, the home to which they could not return. And when this was done, Constanta inwardly swore to see Dimitry, whether he lived or died, retrieved from the dungeons of Castle Ravenloft, and returned to his people, either to rule them once again, or to be buried and mourned. She prayed for the former, as she held their children in her arms. She wished to give them all her love, and all of his.
But first, they would have to hide.