The Elder Blood Chronicles – Book Three(96)

“No,” Jala snapped, her voice frantic. The simple thought of giving her child to another brought an instant wave of panic to her.

Valor smiled and nodded. “Protective. That is the first sign of a good mother. You are nervous. That is normal. Chastity was, too. My Mother’s advice to her was simple so I’ll pass it on to you and see if it helps any. Love them, protect them, and teach them. That is all there is to being a mother. Each of those three things is equally important. Never forget one of them, and never place the importance of one above the other two.”

“As much as I still have to learn, I think I’ll have to let the teaching part fall on Sovann’s shoulders,” Jala sighed.

Valor frowned at her and shook his head. “The most important lessons in life come from our mothers, Jala, not from lesson books. Our mothers teach us right from wrong, they teach us to be compassionate, and they teach us respect. My father taught me how to fight, but my mother taught me what to fight for.”

“Is your advice about being a High Lady this sage?” Jala asked as she leaned back in her pile of clothes and watched him. Her son shifted inside her and she felt a moment’s discomfort as he pushed hard against her stomach. She shifted her position again trying to find one more comfortable.

Valor shrugged. “That was mostly words from my mother. The only advice I have on being a High Lady comes from my great grandmother’s journals and I’m not sure if you want to follow in her footsteps or not. Her path did not have a pleasant ending.”

“High Lady Veyetta,” Jala surmised, her interest peaked. The city War had shown her was a beautiful sight and the statue of Lady Veyetta had been modeled after a woman that was poised and confident. Somehow, she doubted High Lady Veyetta had ever crumpled to tears like an infant into a pile of discarded clothing. Her son shifted again and pain lanced through her body. Holding her breath for a second Jala slowly released it until the discomfort passed and waited for Valor to continue.

“Are you OK?” Valor asked, his blue eyes fixed on hers.

Jala bit her lower lip and smiled bitterly. “Do I look OK to you, Valor?” she asked sarcastically.

“No, I mean health wise, Jala. You looked upset when I entered but now you look pale and I swear that was pain I saw flicker on your face. Are you all right, physically?” Valor pressed as he stretched his legs out and leaned closer to her.

“My son is active. It’s nothing. He kicked a bit roughly,” Jala explained as another pain tore through her and she felt the clothes go damp beneath her.

“Bloody Aspects your water broke. I’ll get a healer,” Valor said quickly as he scrambled to his feet his eyes wide. Moving quickly he crossed the room and threw the door open. “Emily get in here and help her to bed,” he bellowed as he headed out into the hallway.

Jala watched the open door swinging on its hinges in shock and listened to the clattering of his boots as he rushed down the stairs. His words slowly gained meaning in her mind and she looked down at her lap in dawning fear. “Oh dear gods no,” she gasped, her mind irrationally searching for some form of magic that would stop this from happening. She wasn’t ready yet. A few more days. That would be enough. “No, no no!” she mumbled as another contraction rose.

“Here we go, nice and gently,” Emily said in a hushed voice and Jala felt herself being lifted from the sodden clothes. “You will be fine. Valor has gone for Wesley,” Emily assured her.

“Wesley?” Jala gasped as Emily lowered her to the bed gently. “Who in the bloody hell is Wesley?” Her voice rose as she spoke as the irrational fear grew.

“Wesley the healer you hired in Sanctuary, remember? He is the one that healed you after the Darklands,” Emily said her voice soothing.

“Is she truly having the child now?” Wisp’s voice came from the door sounding frantic. Moving as quickly as a hummingbird, the Fae crossed the room and looked down at Jala with wide bright green eyes. “Valor says you are in labor,” she said quickly, her hand moving to brush stray curls from Jala’s face.

Another contraction surged through Jala and the words she had been about to speak came out in a strangled scream. Grasping Wisp tightly by the arm, she pulled her closer. “Not Wesley. Get Kendry,” she gasped. If Wesley had been the one to heal her mangled hand she didn’t want him anywhere near her newborn son.

Wisp nodded quickly and rose from the bed once more. “Kendry then,” Wisp agreed quickly and left the room in a rush.