Death was familiar to me. Birth, not so much. What did I know of such things?
I knew how to guard, to hunt, and to protect. That was what I had been trained for. It was what my orders required of me. Since the day I’d foiled the assassination attempt on princess Neema, I’d been a constant fixture in the royal residence, a shadow haunting the halls with Dog at my side. We’d had no specific directions other than to be alert and on watch for similar attempts. They’d trusted us to uncover any further attacks in whatever form they might take.
So it was that we were stalking the halls of the ground floor of the residence when we felt an undercurrent of excitement running through the royal. Servants were rushing about, chattering about something. Their was an infectiousness about their excitement, and I found that Dog and I were getting carried away with their emotions.
As we eavesdropped to figure out what was going on, Princess Neema came to find us. She swept into the room, all long-legged grace and seriousness in a long dress that dragged the floor in her wake. Her straight hair fell in a curtain around her face, and her eyes were alert, full of excitement.
“Captain Goren!” She called over, placing one hand on her hip while the other fell at her side. She almost looked at ease around us, but Dog and I could see the way her fingertips tugged nervously at the fabric of her dress.
“Princess.” I stepped over to her and bowed slightly, keeping my eyes on her. “There is quite a disturbance this morning…”
“The baby is coming!” She said, grinning widely.
“Your mother is?”
She nodded excitedly. “It’s finally time.”
That made sense. It certainly explained much of the talk I was hearing. “What would you have of me? How might I help?”
“You’re not a midwife are you?” She asked suddenly.
I shook my head, frowning. “No.”
She laughed. “Captain Goren, there is nothing you can do for my mother. The baby will come without any help from you or I.”
“I know that.” I said softly. I hadn’t meant to imply that I would deliver the child myself, obviously. I waited for her to say more.
“You can wait on the second floor. Father wants you watching the stairwells in case there is another attempt while he is occupied with the arrival of his child.”
“Good. I can do that.” I preferred to be kept busy anyhow.
“Come with me then.” She turned on her heel, she strode off toward where I knew the stairs to be.
I watched her body language as she strode purposefully across the residence. She was making a strong attempt to look confident, but there was a tenseness in her stride that showed how little she liked having a creature like me at her back, where she couldn’t see me.
Dog and I sped up, putting ourselves beside her, if a half-step behind on account of her higher status. “You have nothing to fear from us.” I whispered to her, just loud enough to be heard.
Her step faltered, and then she stopped. Her hand drifted to her face, pulling a lock of hair away from her cheek. Then she took a breath and turned toward us. “I know that you think that.”
Dog shifted at my feet, staring up at her. “There is no think about it, princess. It is the truth.” I said firmly.
Her sharp eyes searched our face for any hint of falsehood. There were no lies in us, not about this, so she found nothing. There was a slight shift in her expression, that of acceptance. “I know that you saved us the other day, but your presence here is something that is blended with lies, lies about who and what you are and why you are here.”
“I have done nothing but the duties your father and mother have asked of me.” I replied.
“Nokomi trusts you implicitly, my father believes in your abilities to keep us safe, and my mother has also asked you to watch over us. I am thankful for that, but we are not friends, Captain Goren, and my trust is something given slowly, something to be earned.”
I smiled toothily. “I understand completely, princess.”
“Furthermore,” she continued, “I believe that you are a dangerous person. Like an unsheathed blade, you are something to be watched and handled with care. I fear that I will never be completely at ease around one such as you.”
Dog let out a whine at hearing this description of us. His tongue lolled out and he moved to press his muzzle against the princess’ hand.
Frowning at the two of us, she pulled her hand back. Then she eyed Dog. “Your innocent act does not fool me, Dog. You are every bit as dangerous as he is, perhaps more.” She nodded toward me and gave me a flash of her eyes.
I found myself appreciating her forwardness. She had the family’s strength in her character, and I liked it. Dog whined and tried a second time to press a nose to her hand. “Stop, Dog. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
The princess snorted at that, and, as if to prove me wrong, she gave Dog the smallest and most chaste pat on the top of the head I’d ever seen. Dog gave a little growl and nosed at her hand for more, and she obliged, cracking the slightest of smiles.
“I don’t even like dogs.” She declared, giving Dog one last scratch on the jaw before drawing her hand back at last.
“It appears that way.” I agreed, doing my best not to smile.
“Come on then.” The princess ordered, heading once more for the stairs.
I followed behind her, observing the change in architecture and design as we arrived on the second floor. The ground floor was very open, with many pillars supporting the upper floors of the residence, and wide expanses of floor between them. Certainly, there were meeting rooms and chambers along the periphery of the ground floor, but the general feel of the ground floor was one of openness. In contrast, the second floor was more closed down, more intimate feeling, even if the ceilings grew taller as we exited the grand staircase. I stood at the top for a moment, looking this way and that, trying to get a mental picture of the layout.
“This is your first time upstairs, I take it?” Neema asked.
I shook my head. “Second.”
She stared at me in surprise. She’d noticed my unfamiliarity with this part of the residence. “Then why?”
I leaned in conspiratorially and smiled. “Last time I came in through your sister’s balcony, but I never made it out of her room.”
She stared at me wide-eyed, blushing fiercely. “That is most improprietous.”
I shrugged, wondering what she thought of her sister’s dealings with me now. “Don’t worry. We only talked. Then Dog and I left. Besides, Halina wouldn’t have let anything happen.”
“Oh.” She went silent, frowning.
Dog made a noise that got Neema moving once more. She cast a sideways glance at us more than once as we walked. I smiled to myself and looked around as we went.
Gold gilt had been worked into the pillars that held up this floor of the residence, worked into veins that shimmered in the marble. A major hallway crossed from the stairwell to another directly opposite, more than a good stone’s throw away. A similar, perpendicular hallway crossed directly through the middle, making a full X across the entire floor that effectively divided the second floor into quadrants.
Carpeted runners in a deep red ran up and down several of the smaller, side hallways, offering quieter passage to the chambers that were most likely occupied by the royal family and their closest servants. Up and down the halls, I could see guards stationed at regular intervals, and a bevy of servants hurried back and forth with both speed and quietness.
My nose was hit with a tang of sweat, pain, and exertion. There was a hint of blood in the air, too, and the odd scent of the Empress’ birth water. I’d been around the births of horses and dogs, so I knew what it was, but this was the first time I’d been so close to a human birth.
“She’s close.” I said, gauging how close the child was by the muffled cries from a nearby room.
Neema gave me another look. She wasn’t used to someone with such sharp senses, and it was disquieting for her to be witness to my abilities. She might understand what I was, but she would likely never be fully comfortable with me.
“This way.” She said, tearing her eyes away from me.
She hurried now, heading down a side hallway near the intersection of the two major hallways. I followed easily, Dog trotting alongside me. It was there that we came upon Princess Nokomi waiting outside a set of doors with her father and General Navid.
I almost growled upon seeing the general here, but no matter my opinion of the man, he was still part of the royal family. He appeared to be waiting with the Emperor to congratulate him on the newest addition of the family. There was almost a brotherly air between the two, but there was a cloud of tension hanging over that affection nonetheless.
Nokomi’s eyes lifted to meet mine, and she broke into a smile. She stood to greet me warmly, “Captain Goren! We all feel safer with you here.”
She all but glided across the floor to my side. As always, she was a vision. Her hair was coiffed elegantly, gathered to one side. Her dress was brilliant teal, with a white ribbon wrapped multiple times around her middle, accentuating her small waist.
Dog’s tail thumped happily at her greeting. “Princess Nokomi.” I bowed politely.
I carefully watched Navid’s reaction. The man observed with a surprisingly neutral expression. This was a man who could hide his thoughts very well, if he cared to. He met my gaze with a knowing look, as if he understood everything he needed to about me now.
Had Nokomi’s familiar greeting given him some hint to our ties? Did he know about that? Or had Dog’s happiness at seeing Nokomi betrayed our closeness? Would he use that against us? I couldn’t be sure.
Nokomi turned to her sister. “The baby is near. Mother wanted us both to go in to help her.”
“Then we must not keep her waiting. Let us go greet our sibling.” Princess Neema inclined her head slightly to me. “Captain.”
“Princess.” I bowed again.
“Could you keep my uncle and my father company while we wait, Captain Goren?” Nokomi asked, smiling in a way that would have lit up anyone’s day.
“Certainly.” I grinned back at her.
She winked and took her older sister’s hand, moving toward the doors to the Empress’ chambers. They knocked twice, and a woman in nurse’s garb, complete with a bonnet and an apron, opened the door. They whispered among themselves and then the princesses were let in. The nurse cast a suspicious gaze at the men in the hall, and then closed the door. A cry from the inner rooms punctuated the door closing.
“The mysteries of women.” Navid said with a chuckle, trying to add some levity.
Emperor Baraz smiled politely, but did not laugh. His mind was clearly on his wife’s ordeal, and he waited with clenched fists and a tight jaw. He met my eyes, as if wondering if I knew what he was going through.
I could not, of course, know what it felt like to be him, having no children of my own. I knew the anxiousness that sat on one’s mind and heart before a mission. I’d passed many sleepless nights before ordering friends and companions to their deaths on raids we’d been ordered to carry out. There was an inevitability and helplessness to that, which I felt related to what the Emperor might be feeling.
There was nothing he could do to ease his wife’s pain. She simply had to endure this, pushing until it passed. But the Empress was a strong woman, a mother to two strong-willed daughters already, and I knew she would make it through this.
I wondered how it would be for the Emperor to have a son after so long. And I wondered how Navid would feel to be put one more step away from the throne on account of a crying babe. I found myself getting more tense.
“Emperor, I thought I might walk the halls once?” I suggested. After all, it was what I’d been asked here for, even if it seemed as though he really just wanted another witness to keep his brother on his best behavior.
I was surprised that Kalb was not here. Then again, despite their close ties, he was not family. Not that I was, but Kalb was also open about his distrust of Navid.
The Emperor nodded, waving his hand to dismiss me to do that. His jaw clenched tighter as another cry came from the chambers within, the agonies of birth carrying through the walls.
I took off to patrol those main halls with Dog at my heels. I hadn’t realized how fast I was moving until I passed a group of maidservants going the same way as me. They were carrying steaming water and fresh linens, clearly heading toward the Empress’ birthing suite. Dog and I slowed down, gave them a passing sniff, and headed to what we figured to be the back wall of the birthing suite after making a sweep of the halls.
Through the walls, I could hear the Empress’ cries as she pushed. It went on for some time, her agonized cries and the tired exhaustion she pushed through until her child came into the world. It took some time, but I could hear the sobs of relief from the tired mother and the mewling cries of the newborn.
I took that as a sign and rushed back down toward where the Emperor and his brother waited, pausing only to check the halls once more on my way. I found a nurse greeting the Emperor with the news as I approached.
Nokomi came out of the room then. There was a sheen of perspiration on her face. From the expression on her face, I knew that she’d found it difficult to watch someone she loved in pain, especially when she knew that one day she would face the same. Still, there was a glow about her face, for she’d just basked in the presence of her newborn sibling.
Dog and I walked up to deliver our report. “Sir, everything looks clear. Congratulations are in order, I understand.”
The Emperor nodded and made a decision. I could see it in his eyes. “Captain. Would you accompany us inside?”
Navid’s eyebrow rose, and he gave his brother a questioning look. “Brother?”
The Emperor smiled. “You have to meet the newest member of the family you are sworn to protect.”
“It would be a great honor, Sir.” I lowered my eyes and put my arms at my side, where Dog sat patiently.
“Come then, Captain.” He waved me along, pushing me into the room ahead of himself.
The nurse protested. “You can’t bring an animal in here!”
The Emperor barked a laugh. “I trust that Dog every bit as much as you, woman. That ‘animal’ saved the princess’ life the other day.”
“Sire.” The nurse bowed her head and backed away, ashamed that she had raised her voice in the presence of the Emperor.
Dog and I entered the outer sitting room, which was filled with servants bundling up bloodied linens and carrying away tubs of water that had been used in the birthing and the cleanup afterward.
We let the Emperor and his brother pass us then. It was only fitting that they go into the birthing room first. Nokomi fell in beside us. It was good to have her at our side as we entered the presence of the Empress, now a three-time mother.
The Empress was arrayed on a large round bed, surrounded in white silks. Her face was flushed with exhaustion and effort. Her sweaty hair clung to her neck and forehead, but she glowed with new motherhood. Her clothes had been changed, so she was now swathed in glowing white that reminded me of Nokomi’s outfit the first day I’d met her years ago.
A small, pink babe was clutched against her chest. Its dark hair was plastered to its head, still wet from birthing and the gentle bathing it’d had after its birth. It was tiny and helpless looking, but it glowed with an inner fire that pulsed with each strong heartbeat.
“Emperor, my husband, meet your new son.” The Empress announced proudly. She had eyes only for Baraz.
The Emperor swept to her side, kneeling beside her on the bed to reach out for his child. The Empress pulled the babe from her breast, though he protested angrily at being removed from the comfort of his mother and feeding. As she handed the baby over to his father, the Empress covered herself quickly.
Emperor Baraz stared at his child, a worshipful look filling his face. The baby cried out, opening his eyes just long enough for us to see the fire glowing inside them.
“My son.” The Emperor said joyously, holding him up for us all to see. “He shall be known as Shapur, the first of his name.”
“Shapur.” The family echoed, even Navid, whose expression was carefully guarded.
Nokomi’s hand clutched at mine as we watched the Emperor climb into the bed beside his wife. Together, they held the baby that would take the throne one day, if only he lived long enough.
National Novel Writing Month 2019: The Emperor's Dogs