The humble cottage of Azalla the midwife was located in a shady grove of willows and plane trees which grew along the banks of the River Tornîn. Constructed from whitewashed mudbricks with a roof thatched with river reeds, the small hut had a cozy and inviting appearance. Various herbs, flowers, and medicinal plants were growing in flowerboxes beneath the windowsills and in beds along the sides of the house; a much larger garden had been planted in the nearby clearing where the sun shone much brighter and the light was not dappled by the shadows of the trees. A short distance from the cottage was the gristmill for which the village of Blûgund was named.
Azalla came from a family whose women had been midwives and healers for generations, serving the people of the village and surrounding lands in times of need. A woman of middle years, she had been practicing the healing arts since she was a young girl and her mother taught her how to use the mortar and pestle to grind up dried herbs. Sharing her cottage was her assistant, a woman who was a few years younger than her and a skilled midwife in her own right.
The two women were pulling weeds from the vegetable garden when the messenger came galloping up the cobblestone path to the cottage, bearing news from Esarhaddon's villa. Azalla and her assistant hastily prepared the supplies they would need to assist in childbirth and packed everything securely on the backs of their horses. Then the two women hastened to Esarhaddon's villa.
The noonday sun was high above the fields of Nurn when the midwife arrived. After a brief greeting, Chamberlain Nobo swiftly ushered Azalla and her assistant into Lady Anúrnissa's chambers. Upon examining Lady Anúrnissa, Azalla confirmed that the expecting mother was in the early stages of labor. Followed by a retinue of helpful household servants, Azalla and her assistant returned to the horses to fetch the birthing chair and the other supplies they had brought from the village. While the two midwives were so occupied, Zamara and the other handmaidens fetched towels, sheets, and pillows, as well as a pail of charcoal to stoke the brazier when the time came to heat water.
The host of servants trailing behind her, Azalla soon returned with the birthing chair. This was a small chair that sat low to the ground, with a seat shaped like a crescent to allow the passage of the baby. The chair had a sturdy back the mother could lean against whilst in the midst of her travails, and well-worn arms to grip while bearing down. Although it was not yet time for the birthing chair, Anúrnissa would be needing it soon enough.
Now would come the waiting.
Nobo knew that his mistress must be in pain, for, though she tried to hide it, he could see the distress in her eyes. "Mistress, what do you wish for me to do now?"
"Call for the dancing girls and bid them come to my chambers," Anúrnissa told him. "Send servants to tell my friends who live in the village to make haste for I soon will be birthing, and I need their comfort. I need my friends to be around me in my time of travail." It was believed by many that expectant mothers often had a sense of intuition concerning their unborn children, and Anúrnissa feared that her first delivery would be a rough one. She wanted all the encouragement she could get from the other women and girls.
"Yes, Mistress. All will be done as you wish," Nobo replied as he excused himself.
Messengers raced to the village of Blûgund and the surrounding countryside, their fast horses eating up the distance as they brought word to Anúrnissa's friends. A kind, gregarious woman, she had many friends and acquaintances among both the rich and the poor. Given the momentous occasion, Mistress Juna decided to dismiss school for the day so that the students could help serve the Second Wife. By midafternoon, a small crowd had gathered in Lady Anúrnissa's chambers. The musicians had assembled and were playing a soft, soothing melody, while the dancing girls sat in a group upon a beautiful carpet of pale gold and periwinkle. Lady Shumeeren, Mistress Juna, and other honored guests sat on the wide divan that occupied three sides of the room. Goldwyn, not wanting to socialize with the women of the enemy, was absent. She claimed she was ill and stayed in her chambers. Women from the village sat in clusters around the room, chattering about birthing and babies. Others hovered about the communal tables which were heavily laden with pastries and other sweets, enjoying delicacies that were far richer than the simple peasant fare to which they were accustomed.
Elfhild and Elffled had only been five when their brother Eadfrid had been born, so they were curious about the process of childbirth. Back home in the Mark, a birthing was a private affair with only the woman's relatives and the midwife in attendance. How strange it seemed for someone to have a large party with singing, dancing, and storytelling when a woman gave birth! Elfhild thought this practice rather odd; if she were having a baby, she would prefer a quiet, peaceful environment, for giving birth would be stressful enough. However, she could see the benefit of having a horde of friends and relatives around to comfort and support the new mother. Besides, parties were always joyful occasions, and any excuse for merrymaking appealed to her.
Elffled felt uncomfortable with the whole commotion; she did not care much for large gatherings, and she thought that giving birth should not be a public matter. The presence of so many unfamiliar faces also made her uneasy. It would have been one thing if the party had been limited to the servants of the villa and the School of Industry students, but it seemed that every woman from Blûgund had been invited. Never having been to the village, Elffled knew nothing of these women or their customs. Feeling claustrophobic in the presence of so many strangers, she decided to console herself with food and drifted over to the refreshment tables. There seemed to be an endless supply of pastries, cheese, fruit, nuts, and sorbets. She had just taken a bite from the most delicious date pastry when she heard Anúrnissa groan in pain.
"Oh, my!" Lady Juna exclaimed as she frantically fanned her face with a delicate embroidered handkerchief. "Someone help the lady over to the birthing chair!" The headmistress was close to fainting; she always hated these affairs when one of Lord Esarhaddon's wives gave birth. All that blood unnerved her, and she would be shaky for days afterwards. She had to be present, though, for the sake of appearances. She simply must steel her nerves to pain, suffering and blood, and so she managed to mask her distaste with a calm smile.
"Mistress Juna, there is no need for the birthing chair yet." Anúrnissa smiled through the pain and touched her swollen stomach. "I do think that I will walk a bit, though. If you wish, you and Zamara can walk with me. In the meantime, let the celebrations continue."
The twins found a less crowded place to sit and listen to musicians. While she felt ill at ease in crowds, Elffled enjoyed listening to the music, the exotic melodies so different from those of the Mark, which now seemed dull in comparison. Her curiosity was also piqued by some of the conversations that were transpiring around her. The two women on Elffled's right were not from Esarhaddon's household, so she assumed that they must hail from Blûgund. They were both older women who were dressed in costly, though modest, garments. Though they kept their voices low, Elffled could make out enough of their words to understand that they were gossiping about the governor's youngest son, who apparently had gotten one of the maidens of the village with child.
"What a disgusting man!" exclaimed one of the white-haired dowagers, a scrawny old woman in a burgundy dress with pale yellow dots.
"A drunken, debauched sot who will never acknowledge the child as his!" remarked the speaker's companion, a short, dumpy woman wearing a gown of brown and green stripes.
"The poor child!" agreed the woman in burgundy. "No decent man will have her now, and I fear her father and brothers might cast her out for disgracing the family. They are a proud people."
"Let us not speak of such terrible things. This is, after all, a party," remarked the dowdy woman in brown and green as she accepted a cup of melon sorbet from a servant. "I just wonder why the lord governor cannot control his younger son."
A deep, throaty laugh caused the two women's attention to turn to a woman on the other side of the twins. A younger woman, dressed in a long, flowing red gown, her eyes heavy with kohl and her hair caught up under a cap with a long, trailing yellow chiffon veil, had been listening to the conversation with amusement. "Scandalous doings, of course, but they are nobility and nobility can do as they like." The woman's head craned to see around the twins as her voice lowered in a conspiratorial tone. "They say the young lord watches himself whilst he wages his love battles with his chosen for the night. The walls of his chambers, it is rumored, are covered in looking glasses so that he can see his prowess displayed for his own enjoyment. If it is to be believed," she added wickedly, "his blade is both long and thick, and he is an admirable swordsman. Many women would give everything for just one night with him!"
"Lascivious girl! Cease your babbling! We have no desire to hear such unwholesome talk!" The two older women were clearly offended, and with a self-righteous "humph," they looked away from her as though she were a leech that had crawled from the sewer. Their prudish sensibilities offended, the old women dropped their voices even lower and resumed discussing the amorous adventures of the governor's son, albeit in a more discreet manner of speaking.
"Elffled," her sister whispered in her ear, "let us find another place to sit. I find those three distracting."
"I was rather enjoying their conversation." The smallest frown puckered Elffled's face for a moment, but then she brightened. "Maybe the conversation is better someplace else." She looked back for a second, and saw that the three women were glaring at each other, and she laughed softly to herself.
While the twins looked for other places to sit, they noticed that Lady Anúrnissa and the midwife were consulting with one another. After several moments, the lady lay down upon a mattress near the birthing chair. Servants held up sheets on four sides of her, screening her from the view of the crowd while the midwife made her examination.
"I wonder what is going on." Elfhild tried to catch a glimpse of what was transpiring through the cracks in the sheets, but she could see nothing.
"That is something we will not know for a while," came a familiar voice. The twins had been so intent upon finding a place to sit that they failed to notice they had chosen a place right across from Nurma. "Do you mind if I come over and join you?"
"Of course not," Elfhild smiled, patting the carpet beside her.
Elffled's eyes were also drawn to the makeshift tent which surrounded Lady Anúrnissa. "I hope that all goes well with mother and child," she remarked, her brow furrowed with concern.
"We all wish the same thing, Fleda," Nurma replied. "I have never met a kinder person than the Mistress. What a shame that she and the Lady Shumeeren do not get along well, although that is Shumeeren's fault for the main part."
"Why is that?" Elffled asked, her mood perking up at the prospect of hearing some juicy gossip. In the fortnight she had been at the villa, she had heard rumors about the First and Second Wives, but she did not know what was truth and what was hearsay.
"Lady Shumeeren is a flighty, temperamental woman, and she has always been jealous of Anúrnissa, especially now that she is with child," Nurma answered, casting a glance over to Shumeeren, who was laughing at some joke with her friends. "Lady Shumeeren has been Esarhaddon's wife for five years, but her womb remains barren. As far as anyone knows, she and Lady Anúrnissa have never come to words, and they even drink tea together. What else can they do?" Nurma shook her head. "They both call this villa their home, and must abide the presence of the other out of necessity."
"Then I imagine that the addition of the Lady Goldwyn has added some coals to the fire," Elffled could not resist adding. When the two other girls raised their eyebrows, she hid her mischievousness behind a sweet, innocent smile.
Esarhaddon was perusing old records at the large table in his library at the House of Huzziya headquarters in Turkûrzgoi. He had been in meetings all day with Mordorian officials, an unpleasant enough ordeal as it were, but to make matters even worse, he had been suffering from a raging headache since morning. He was grateful for the respite; alas, though, it would be a brief one, for he had another council scheduled in approximately an hour that most likely would occupy the rest of his afternoon. The purpose of this council was to secure another contract with Mordor for the transport of slaves from the North. Esarhaddon would not be taking this journey, however. He had his fill of adventure and danger for the time. Instead, his cousin, Nykome, would be leading the expedition.
His attention was drawn to the door as a servant ushered a messenger into the room.
"My lord, I rode here as quickly as I could," the man exclaimed breathlessly. "I come bearing tidings from your household. Lady Anúrnissa's time of labor has come upon her. The midwife arrived at noon, and is with her now."
"This is excellent news," Esarhaddon proclaimed, pride and joy in his voice. "Unfortunately, I have pressing business with Mordor that cannot be postponed. I will be returning home after night has fallen. Perhaps the babe will be waiting for me when I arrive."
"Very well, my lord. I will return to the villa and give the lady your regards." The messenger bowed as he left the room.
Though he felt a pang of guilt putting business over family, Esarhaddon could not leave Turkûrzgoi and go back to the villa. One simply did not walk out of a council with the agents of Mordor. Even if he could leave, a birth chamber was no place for a man. The midwife could handle matters. He would see his new child when he returned home.
It was late afternoon by the time that all of Lady Anúrnissa's guests had inquired about her health and happiness and all the happenings at Esarhaddon's villa, brought her up to date with the latest gossip from the village, and given the expecting mother their best wishes and prayers for a safe delivery. With all formalities and trivialities out of the way, Anúrnissa looked around at the crowd which had gathered in her chambers. A few had come because they were truly friends, but most had come for the excitement, entertainment and food. She knew exactly who was who, but she gave no indication of this knowledge. Her calm, serene face was unperturbed, and to anyone who looked at her, they would have thought that she was thoroughly enjoying her party.
"My friends, I am overwhelmed by the abundance of kindness and concern that has been shown to me, and I wish to thank you all for journeying here to be with me at this time." A radiant smile was upon her lovely face as she looked upon all the curious and concerned faces in the crowd. "As my time of delivery draws nearer, I would ask of you to share in my labors. Whether you can dance or not, I want you to dance with me to call forth the child and aid him in his struggle to be born. Mistress Linnet, the instructor of dance at the School of Industry, will be leading our movements. Let the musicians play the Dance of Birth!"
The servants scurried to move cushions, goblets, plates, utensils and all the debris from the social gathering away from the floor. Those who did not know how to dance, or were unable to, moved to the carpets and cushions along the sides of the hall. The musicians struck up a melody which was slow and sensuous, and Azalla and Linnet led both the expecting mother and her guests in the proper motions. With clear, melodic laughter, the dancing girls swayed upon dainty feet and surrounded Anúrnissa as she slowly began to rotate her hips. The dancers crooked their fingers at the guests, inviting them to join as they swayed and gyrated around their mistress. Though they were not so skilled as the dancing girls, many of the women had been taught the dances of birth from earliest childhood.
Though dancing through one's travails might seem a strange practice to those in other lands, the dance was meant to relax and loosen the muscles in preparation for birth, as well as move the baby into a favorable position for exiting the womb. In many parts of Nurn and Harad, dancing was believed to bring about a less painful labor, by allowing the mother to move with the contractions and distracting her from her fears. Her senses lulled by the rhythmic throb of the drums, the chanting of the other women, and the repetitive motions of the dancers' lower bodies, the mother might enter a hypnotic trance, and through this altered state, have a relatively easy birth.
In the early stages of labor, midwives advised that the woman incorporate gentle, swaying movements into her dance; more lively maneuvers, such as the shimmy, were better suited for when the woman was further along in her progress. The dancers moved their hips in wide circles, isolating the movement to their lower bodies and keeping their upper halves as still as possible. At other times, they made their bodies perform more precise movements, moving one hip from front to back in an arcing crescent motion, or making alternating circles with each hip to resemble a horizontal figure eight. Their arms they held out from their sides, their wrists and hands twirling in gentle floreos; other women held their arms up to the heavens and waved them from side to side as if in praise or supplication.
Many of the novices from Elfhild and Elffled's classes had joined the dance circle, but the twins hung back along the sides of the room with the other partygoers who were uncomfortable dancing around so many people. Rufina was there as well, for the region of Rhûn from which she hailed did not have such complex rituals involving birth. The three girls shared their thoughts and opinions on these unfamiliar traditions as they observed the proceedings going on around them.
After playing several songs, the musicians decided to take a pause to rest their hands and allow the dancers to catch their breaths. Her face flushed and damp with perspiration, Nurma walked over to where the twins were sitting and plopped down upon the carpet beside them with a heavy sigh.
"I had to take a rest," she exclaimed breathlessly. "I fear I spend more time sewing and embroidering than I do exercising."
Elfhild giggled. "This sort of dancing can be very intense. It is far more complicated than the sorts of dances we do in the Mark." Did in the Mark, she thought to herself with a sudden pang of homesickness.
"I understand that there is nothing like a birthing party in the land from whence you came," Nurma remarked.
"It is completely unknown to call in all the neighbors for a grand celebration as a woman labors to give birth to her child," Elfhild replied. "In Rohan, we wait until after the child is born to commemorate this happy occasion. Of course, the customs here are different from those in the Mark."
"Do not be perturbed about the dancing and merrymaking." Nurma gave the twins a gentle smile. "Many swear by the dance for its benefits to the mother and child. The movements build muscles used in childbirth and thus aid in the delivery of the baby."
"Will we actually get to see the lady giving birth?" Elffled asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"No, that would indeed be awkward for the mother," Nurma chuckled. "When it is time for Lady Anúrnissa to give birth, the midwife will spread a wide sheet over her lap and legs for privacy. However, the whole room will be able to hear her quite well." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, beckoning the twins to move closer. "I do hope that Mistress Juna does not faint. She is quite squeamish."
The twins giggled at that. The headmistress was so very highly strung.
Soon the musicians had resumed their playing, and once again the dancers swirled around Anúrnissa, trying to draw forth the child with the gentle rhythmic motions of their own bodies. An ancient dame from the village, her arthritic joints creaking with age, rose to her feet and hobbled closer to the dance circle. Standing in place, she grinned a toothless grin as she swayed her hips and moved her ponderous belly back and forth.
"Well, if that old lady can get up and dance, then you can too!" Nurma grinned impishly as she grabbed Elfhild and Elffled by the wrists and pulled them laughing to their feet.
Though their dancing experience was limited, the twins tried their best to mimic Nurma's movements and keep up with the other women. While Elfhild was content merely to copy the other dancers, Elffled wanted to master the more technical aspects of the dance. She watched the dancers with spellbound awe, mesmerized by the sheer concentration they exercised as they effortlessly contorted their bodies into various graceful positions. She felt a pang of envy and wondered if she would ever be as good as them. Although she had been practicing for a fortnight, she felt she had not made much progress. She understood that it could take years to build up the muscle strength, stamina and dexterity required to execute particularly difficult moves. Perhaps with enough practice, one day she would be as skilled as these Nurniag women. She could hope.
Evening fell over the villa, and the light coming in through the windows of Lady Anúrnissa's chambers dimmed and gave way to shadows. As the hours passed, Anúrnissa's discomfort had continued to increase, and she would often cry out in pain when a particularly intense contraction struck her. The midwife informed her that, as the baby fought its way into the world, the contractions would grow stronger and closer together. The important thing was to keep moving, to let the rhythm flow through her body, to focus upon bringing the baby into the world.
The music grew faster and more intense, and the dancers shimmied and undulated around Anúrnissa. It was believed that these movements would help move the baby into position and ease its struggle through the birth canal. The dancers had been dancing for hours, stopping from time to time to rest and refresh themselves. Weary from the exertion, some of the older women lay down and slept on the carpets. They snored softly, barely noticing when the servants covered them with blankets. After they had rested, many of the women began dancing once again.
Though she was weary after hours of dancing, Elffled joined them. Elfhild decided to watch as she sipped a cup of calming herbal tea. Nurma sat beside her, working on her embroidery frame to pass the time. Whenever Anúrnissa gave voice to her agony, Nurma would draw out a small doll from her basket of supplies, cradle the tiny figure in her hands, and murmur comforting words to it. Elfhild thought that the doll, with its black fabric body and hair of braided black yarn, bore a striking resemblance to Anúrnissa. The doll even wore a frilly pink dress similar to the pastel gowns favored by the Second Wife. When Nurma saw the curiosity upon Elfhild's face, she gave her a mysterious smile, her brown eyes twinkling and her fawn-colored cheeks seeming to glow faintly with an ethereal light.
As Anúrnissa's contractions intensified, the midwife and her assistant helped her over to the birthing chair. Servants fanned the air around her with large, wide fans, and Zamara wiped over her forehead with a cooling cloth. Mistress Linnet instructed the women to gather round the lady, for this was the most important part of the dance. Isolating the movement to her lower body, Linnet pushed her pelvis forward, then tucking in her stomach, she pulled it back, moving in a continuous rolling undulation. One of the women began to chant, and several others spontaneously joined her, their voices joining together in a low, droning hum. The drums beat out a steady rhythm to usher the mother into the birth trance and summon forth the child.
At last, in the wee hours before dawn, the squalling cry of a baby was heard.
