Blood Countess (On Hold)

Chapter 11

1604

"Push harder! Breath!" the midwife said, huffing and puffing, mimicking the sound of someone breathing heavily.

Erzsébet Báthory (Elizabeth in Hungarian) wasn't going to do that. She wasn't going to look like an out of breath dancer. She was of nobility. She was above all more than any other pregnant woman. Stubbornly, she kept her mouth shut tight, breathing harder with her nose. She could smell the herbs scattered on the floor. The last time she was gave birth, fresh rushes were used. Her eyes stared hard at the low ceiling she was so familiar with. Her hands gripped the coverlet tighter. This was the sixth time she has been in here. It is a wonder that she was still alive. She knew many died of childbirth. Those were the unfortunate ones.

She kept her eyes shut. The pain down below was also so familiar to her. She remembered wishing that child birth wasn't such a painful business.

"I see the baby's head!" the midwife said.

Erzsébet breathed harder and heavier. She want it out as quick as possible. She pushed and pushed as hard as her body could. Once she felt the weight lifted, she let out a sigh and sunk back into the soft coverlet.

She could hear the midwife carrying out her duties. The baby let out a cry. A good sign that it was alive. She knew she was tying the baby's umbilical cord now.

"Congratulations. It's a boy," she said, cleaning him up and wrapping him in a swaddle.

"Let me hold him," she said, raising her arms, managing a weak smile.

The midwife placed him gently into her arms. He was so delicate.

"Shall I tell Count Nádasdy of the good news?" she asked.

"You may. Tell him, his name is György Nádasdy," Erzsébet said.

The midwife walked out of the chamber slowly while Erzsébet had some time to herself with her youngest son. There was something strange about this baby. He didn't make a sound anymore. Suspicion rose as she placed her finger below the nose. She waited. There wasn't any breeze. Panicked, she unwrapped the swaddle and placed her palm on the baby's chest. She couldn't feel his small beating heart.

She yelled for the midwife to come back. The midwife rushed back, this time with Anna, the wet nurse who cared for her other children.

The midwife looked her in the eye and concluded that he was dead. Erzsébet let out a lone tear. There was no more György Nádasdy. This was going to be her last child. The seventh.

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(I hope you didn't get confused. This happened in the past, 1604)