“I’ve three women I’m tending the next day or so,” Plumestra said. “When I’ve time and if there are no other calls, I will come to the palace.”
“Ask for Mira,” Mira offered, but Plumestra had already turned back to the woman on the bed, reaching to pull on the dangling birth cord. “Now push, girl. Let’s get this done.”
“Oh,” Mira was fascinated, but Avice snatched up her cloak and pulled her from the room and out to the street.
“Stand guard,” Avice ordered the guards. “Wait for the midwife Plumestra and keep her under guard. See to it that she reports to the palace tomorrow.”
“As you say, Lady,” the guard acknowledged. “But it’s growing late, and this is not the best part of town. Do you want us to escort you back?”
“We can see to ourselves,” Avice said. “Come, Mira.” She headed down the lane, out of patience with midwives and babies. An altogether messy business.
“I wanted to watch,” Mira said. “Did you notice that her belly turned flaccid? After the babe was out?”
“Don’t mention that to the Queen,” Avice strode on. The shadows were growing longer, and there were no street lamps in this part of town.
People were moving about, closing up shop, heading for their homes. There was enough traffic that they had to press against walls in some places, to avoid the crowd. At one such place, a man stepped out of the shadows in an alley and blocked their path.
“Ladies.” He bowed, his smile wide. A gold tooth gleamed in his grin.
“Out of our way,” Avice demanded as she moved to walk past.
The man shifted, blocking her once more. “Now, Bondmaiden Avice, don’t be like that.”
That focused her attention.
“And Bondmaiden Mira.” He bowed to both of them.
“What do you want?” Avice demanded, searching the shadows for others. As far as she could determine, he was alone.
“I’ll not waste your time, ladies, but get straight to the point. My master wishes to give your mistress a gift.”
“What gift?” Avice took a step into the alley, reaching into her skirt slit for one of her daggers.
“This,” The man kicked a large bundle of rags on the ground. It moaned.
Mira stepped forward and realized a man sprawled there, emaciated and smelling of vomit.
“And what does our mistress need with a wreck of a man?” Avice asked.
The gold-toothed man smirked. “A wreck he surely is and addicted to letheon. Still, blood mages be hard to come by.”
Avice went still, but Mira tilted her head with a frown. “Blood mage? This?”
“Aye,” Gold tooth flashed his grin again. “A piss poor one, truth be told, but beggars can’t be choosers, now can they?”
“The price?” Avice asked.
“Let’s say ‘good will’ and let that rest for another day.” The gold disappeared as he grew serious. “We help each other. Queen gets her way and we have disposed of a…problem, shall we say? In the future, perhaps we can deal again.”
“And if I refuse this gift?”
There was a shrug as the man faded further back into the shadows. “Leave him to die, it’s no matter to me.” His chuckle came from even further away, “But then what will your Queen do for a blood mage?”
Rapid steps raced off and they were left with an empty alley and a wretch at their feet.
Mira had him by the wrist. “His heart beats strong,” she said with a wrinkled nose. She reached for an eyelid. “But he’s drugged to be sure.”
“And no knowing if it’s voluntary,” Avice scowled. “Or if he truly is a blood mage.”
