9th March 1103

Varda and Lekha waddled along the beach, their huge bellies swaying pendulously before them, their swollen feet crunching in the icy snow.

It was such a relief for Varda that Hepsie had finally decided she could go outside and get some fresh air. She had deemed that the baby was big enough now that it didn’t matter if it came a few weeks early. Her baby was big enough, her baby was strong enough. She had cried silently when Hepsie left, the accumulation of so many months of fear and worry. Her baby was coming. It was only a matter of time now.

And so she may walk outside again and “air the belly” as Lekha liked to say. Lekha liked to take these walks too, in her country, she had told, a woman didn’t stop walking until the baby came, even when the labour pains hit. Varda had attended enough births to know that it was very different for the women of her race who lay prostrate on the bed, writhing and screaming and falling back on the pillows over and over in exhaustion. Varda wasn’t afraid. She wouldn’t let herself be.

“Goodness me Lekha, it’s a simply beautiful day,” she smiled at her friend, licking her finger to test the direction of the wind.

The chill on the skin of her finger thrilled her, so used was she to stuffy rooms that smelt of sickly sweet breath and underneath it the sharp scent of salt and damp wood.

“A northerly if I’m not mistaken. The gentle breath of Andulas rides in from the north,” she quoted a Ulanbaat poem whose author she had long forgotten.

“Bad, boring weather,” Lekha grumbled with a scowl, “How your people live like this I am understanding not. Bad and grey. Always grey.”

“Oh but Lekha dear, don’t you realise. You have to embrace the grey. It will stay for months whether you like it or not. It makes it so much easier if you decide to like it.”

She threw her head back, opening her mouth to let tiny flakes of snow twirl onto her tongue where they melted in an icy sizzle. The wind on her face was so cold it made her teeth ache but it felt so good, so refreshing. She was more alive than she had ever been, two lives sharing her one body.

“Humpf, I do not want it, to how you say, embracing grey. It is making me happy to hate it. Bad, bad weather. Horrible, cold snow. Give me the hot desert. That is better.”

“Oh, but what is that there Varda?” Varda followed the other woman’s gaze out past the melting ice floes to the churning current between the towering cliffs on either side of the natural harbour.

“What, I don’t see anything Lekha… I don’t…” suddenly Varda saw what had caught her friend’s keen eye.

Out past the breaking waves a tangled black mess floated on the water’s surface like dark weed, bobbing around in the current. Varda squinted her eyes to try and make it out when suddenly the matted, black mass broke the surface, a pale face floundering for a few seconds before it went under again.

“Oh my God! Someone’s out there!”

She reached her shivering hands up to pull off the heavy cloak to dive in and help whoever it was, but on the way up they brushed the giant swell of her belly. She couldn’t go in. She was a strong swimmer but she simply could not risk the life of her unborn child. And how could she swim with a belly this big, she could barely walk.

“What we do… what we do?!” Lekha’s English had deteriorated to a disjointed mess in her panic.

“Call out! Someone must hear… HELP… HELP… SOMEONE HELP!!!”

“Adak! Adak! Adak!… Help!”

A large wave came submerging the struggling figure for so long that Varda held her breath sure they would not reappear. But a small arm broke the surface, then another followed by the dark head. Varda took a deep, gulping breath gazing up to the castle ready to call out again when she saw one of the guards careening across the beach towards them.

“There’s someone in the water!” she cried out and he began to pull off his heavy mail tunic, fumbling with his belt, kicking off his boots.

He stripped off his leggings and sprinted into the water, slipping and skithering over the ice floes. He must have been cutting his feet and legs on the jagged pieces but if so he did not make a sound. He waded in, surrounded by floating chunks of ice, his powerful arms pushing them aside as he dove into the frigid water.

Osras swam out past the breakers, strong arms stroking through the water until he reached the struggling figure. She saw the figure’s arms waving frantically, battering him until he hoisted them out of the water with one arm and held them tight against him.

He began to swim back towards the shore and Varda saw that the drowning person was actually a young girl, her long black hair tangled and wet, her dark eyes wide with fright.

Osras carried her struggling in his arms through the jagged ice floes and onto the beach. She kicked and scratched at him, squealing in fright as he gently lowered her to the ground. She was wearing next to nothing, her slender body clad in a thin robe which clung transparently to her skin so Varda could see the swelling bumps of her tiny breasts and the rounded forms of her thighs.

Varda rushed up to meet them.

“Don’t yew worry now lassy, yer alright now, yer alright,” Osras clucked comfortingly, reaching out towards the girl.

“Nej, nej,” she shrieked, “Rör mig inte!” she swatted Osras’ hand away.

Varda came up beside him, “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you. You don’t need to be frightened.

“Snälla, snälla… skada mig inte,” she whimpered, shrinking away from Varda.

Her face was obscenely pale except for two startling red marks either side of her mouth where the skin had been rubbed raw.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” she backed away trying to reassure the terrified creature.

“She doesn’t seem to speak common,” Osras murmured, “where is she from, I’ve never heard that language before?”

“What do you think happened to her?” Varda asked softly.

“I don’t know, but just look at those red marks on her face and her wrists. Someone’s trussed her up good and simple.”

The girl was gazing at them, her black eyes roving wildly like a caged animal.

“She’s bleeding too…” Varda noticed with shock the spreading stain at the front of her dress where the thin fabric clung between her legs.

“I don’t know what they’ve done to her but we’d better get her inside. And I think yew’d better send for Hepsie,” Osras added.

“It’s okay, you’re safe with us. We won’t hurt you,” Varda murmured reassuringly as she grasped the girl’s arms.

“Nej! Nej! Nej!” she shrieked, squirming and writhing but she was exhausted by her ordeal and Varda’s arms were strong.

“Help me bring her Osras, Lekha… send for Hepsie and then get word to the King. He’ll need to know about this. Don’t worry dear, everything is fine now…”

Inbar, Shildfrith