Taniel (The Taverner's Daughter I)

74: Taniel

In the birthing room, my feet were guided into birthing stirrups and my ankles secured from slipping. Ironical, really, since they intended putting a baby in me, not help one out. My smallclothes lay on a nearby chair and a thin blanket screened my lower body.

Olivia pushed another pillow under my backside, apologising again for the restraints. Obviously, she doubted my commitment to complete the procedure. My wrists were loosely tethered. A leather strap was buckled over my waist. They did not want me to hurt myself, she said.

I almost shouted, then, that I carried her grandson inside of me, already, and this humiliation was naught but show. I did not understand why the witch thought we had to go through with the charade. Surely, she might have found another way to stall until Driscoll came. Why had Jarryd agreed to let them do this to me?

I sighed.

The agreement was mine.

Katerine smiled at me from behind the iron frame at the foot of the bed. I wished I had accidentally kicked her in the face when she positioned my feet.

"Where is the witch?" My voice rasped.

"My husband is still having problems." Olivia sounded strained. "Paget went to offer her expertise. I'll go hurry her up."

"Can't Dax fix him?" I asked her, curious, as she stalked to the door.

"Wizards cannot heal. Only a witch can," she said. "Paget is the best."

Left on my own with Katerine, I was glad I had not booted her grinning face.

Seconds later, Dax knocked, opening the door only far enough to hand over the glass-stoppered jar. He mumbled an apology for my benefit. The door banged.

"You're going to do it," I said, more to myself than to Katerine.

Ignoring me, she took the jar to the table by the end of the bed. She fiddled with the contents, adding liquids, mixing and pouring. Eventually she dribbled it into the device, which Paget had shown me earlier after helping me up on to the high bed. The narrow piece of flared glass tubing appeared harmless enough.

The preparations complete, Katerine began pacing about the room. Back and forward, back and forward, she paced until she threw her hands up. "I haven't got all day," she declared. "We do not need a witch for this."

Katerine folded my blanket back. Exposed, I flinched.

"Taniel, I will not hurt you," she said, handing me a folded handkerchief from her pocket.

I dried the corners of my eyes.

"I still don't understand why we never got on," she said, checking the placement of the padding underneath me.

I stared at her, lost for words.

She shook her head at me and smiled a proper smile. "Try and relax." Picking up the tubing, she crouched at the end of the bed. "This will take but a moment."

I clenched my eyes, face burning, with every nerve anticipating torment when the tip touched me.

My body tensed.

Painless, and warm, the glass smoothly invaded my innermost recess with ease. Though the physical act was lightly administered, my ego was battered and my worry intensified. I told myself that it was only a little fluid, what could possibly go wrong? What if they damaged my baby... did the witch remember to kill Dax's baby makers... and... I was getting a dragon, what did it matter? Dax seemed nice enough... I would marry him if I must... but... but...