Tortured: A bridge story between Birthmarked and Prized by O'Brien Caragh M

Author:O'Brien, Caragh M. [O'Brien, Caragh M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2011-12-06T07:00:00+00:00

“Please,” Gaia said. “We need a doctor.”

The tip of the Matrarc’s red cane nudged Gaia’s boot, but then she set the cane aside and extended her hands. “I want to see the baby.” There was a melodious, deep quality in her voice that took the edge off her direct command, and yet she clearly expected to be obeyed.

Gaia gently extricated Maya from the sling and lifted her into those expectant hands. Unbelievably scrawny and fragile, the baby was hardly more than a listless bundle of blankets. The Matrarc cradled Maya in one arm and ran quick fingers over her face and arms, settling at the baby’s throat.

Up close, Gaia saw the Matrarc’s complexion was a deep tan, with darker freckles splayed across her nose and cheeks. Her wrinkles were few. Despite prematurely white hair, which was arranged in a soft, heavy bun, the Matrarc was in her mid-thirties, Gaia guessed, and obviously competent with a baby. The clear, translucent brown of her sightless eyes was lit by an alert, trenchant expression, and then she frowned with concern.

“You see?” Gaia said. It reassured her to see the Matrarc clearly realized the gravity of the situation.

“It’s not good,” the Matrarc said. “When was she born?”

“About two weeks ago. She was premature.”

“Where’s Mlady Eva?” the Matrarc said.

A woman was hurrying across the commons carrying a baby of her own. “I’m here!” she called. Her apron had streaks of red, and her dark hair was coming loose from its braid. “I was just putting up my preserves, but Havandish told me this couldn’t wait. Why do you need my baby?”

“You’ll need him to get your milk flowing,” the Matrarc said. “A baby has just arrived who’s too weak even to suck. Do the best you can for her. Mlady Roxanne, take them in. Quickly, please.”

The Matrarc passed Gaia’s sister to a tall, angular woman who gave Gaia a swift look through her glasses, then took the baby into the lodge. Mlady Eva was untucking her blouse as she hurried after them.

“Wait for me,” Gaia said.

“No, stay,” the Matrarc said. “We need to get acquainted. What’s your name, child?”

Gaia peered anxiously through the screen door, but already the others were out of sight. She tried to follow, but her legs were still too wobbly. “Where are they going? I need to be with my sister.”

“She’s not your own child, then?” the Matrarc asked.

“No. Of course not.” Gaia glanced at Chardo to find him regarding her with faint surprise, as if he had been operating under the same misassumption as the Matrarc. “I would never have been feeding her rabbit broth if I could have nursed her myself,” she said to him.

“I didn’t know what to think,” he said.

“Obviously, you’ve been through an ordeal,” the Matrarc cut in, lifting a hand. “Let me see your face.”

Gaia backed against the railing to avoid the Matrarc’s touch. “No,” she said.

“Ah!” said the Matrarc in surprise, dropping her hand.

“Mlass, you need to cooperate with her,” Chardo said.

Cooperating, Gaia had learned, could be dangerous.

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