“I’m here.”
“Come closer.”
Bhumika reached a hand out and Priya took it.
“I don’t know anything about birthing,” Priya confessed, holding Bhumika’s hand tight.
“Oh, good,” said Bhumika. “Well. Neither do I. A shame that we’re going to need to learn like this.”
“I thought you’d know what to do,” Priya said, appalled.
“Well, I thought I’d have trained midwives with me,” Bhumika said through clenched teeth.
“You have me,” Khalida said, sounding hunted from the entry.
Priya gripped Bhumika’s hand tighter in comfort—a difficult task when Bhumika’s own grasp was iron.
“Khalida,” said Priya. “Get Sima.”
“Why?”
“Her mother used to deliver the babies in their village,” said Priya. “She’ll certainly know more than either of us.”
Khalida left at once. A few moments later, Sima’s quiet voice cut through the dimness. “I can help.”
The tent flap opened again, another woman entering with water. “And I’ll need some of the other maidservants as well. I’m sorry,” Sima added.
“This tent is becoming overcrowded,” Bhumika gritted out.
“I’ll go and keep watch.” There was an edge of relief in Khalida’s voice.
Women came back and forth, bringing water from the fire, boiled clean, and cloth, as Sima whispered to Bhumika, guiding her to breathe, coaxing her into one uncomfortable position after another. Helplessly, Priya sat and held Bhumika’s hand and talked nonsense at her.
She was watching Sima rub Bhumika’s back through the next set of pains when she felt one of the maidservants kneel at her side, passing her a wet cloth for Bhumika’s forehead.
“I have the boy,” a voice said quietly. “Come and speak to me, and I’ll return him to you alive.”
Priya looked up.
She did not know the woman’s face. But she knew those eyes. She’d seen them through a mask of wood.
Before she could do anything, the woman was gone, and Priya was clutching the cloth in her hands, the water dripping against her palms.
“Priya. Priya? Give that to me.” Sima pried it away. Then she turned back to Bhumika, and Priya could only rise to her feet. Turn to the entrance of the tent.
“Priya—where are you going?” Bhumika asked, alarmed.
“I’ll be back.”
“Priya—”
“I’ll be back.”
MALINI
The encampment was larger than their first sight of it suggested, long rather than broad, winding to match the narrowness of the space the seeker’s path allowed between the arch of trees. There were fine tents, and men sharpening their swords. No horses, and no fires—just a silent watchfulness that swelled into something new when Malini entered the camp with Rao at her side and Commander Jeevan and his small force of soldiers at her back.
Priya had vanished. Malini bit down on her tongue, a light and assuring pain, and did not look for her again.
