Blood of the Fold

Elayne's husband, Henry, was off with a crew cutting ice for the inns and, because of the weather, hadn't returned yet from his deliveries to nearby towns. There were several women in the house, but they were all in with Elayne. Zedd told Richard to make himself busy tending the fire and heating some water, and that he was likely to be a while.

Richard sat in the cold kitchen, sweat running down his scalp, while he listened to the most horrifying screams he had ever heard. There were muffled words of comfort from the midwife and the other women, but mostly there were the screams. He stoked the fire, melting snow in a big kettle to give himself an excuse to go outside. He told himself that Elayne and Henry might need more wood, what with a new baby and all, so he cut and chopped a good-sized pile. It did no good; he could still hear Elayne's screams. It wasn't the way they put voice to pain, but the way they were seared with panic that made Richard's heart hammer.

Richard knew Elayne was going to die. A midwife wouldn't have come for Zedd unless there was serious trouble. Richard had never seen a dead person; he didn't want the first to be Elayne. He remembered her laughter when she had taught him to dance. His face had been red the whole time, but she pretended not to notice.

And then, while he sat at the table, staring off, thinking the world was a very terrible place indeed, there was a last scream, more agonizing than the rest, that sent a shiver down his spine. It died out in forlorn misery. He squeezed his eyes shut, in the dragging silence, damming in the tears.

Digging a grave in the frozen ground was going to be near to impossible, but he promised himself that he would do it for Elayne. He didn't want them to keep her frozen body in the undertakers' shed until spring. He was strong. He would do it if it took him a month. She had taught him to dance.

The door to the bedroom squeaked opened, and Zedd shuffled out carrying something. "Richard, come here." He handed over a gory mess with tiny arms and legs. "Wash him gently."

"What? How do I do that?" Richard stammered.

"In warm water!" Zedd bellowed. "Bags, my boy, you did heat water, didn't you?" Richard pointed with his chin. "Not too hot, now. Just lukewarm. Then swaddle him in those blankets and bring him back into the bedroom."

"But Zedd… the women. They should do it. Not me! Dear spirits, can't the women do it?"

Zedd, his white hair in disarray, peered at him with one eye. "If I wanted the women to do it, my boy, I wouldn't have asked you, now would I?"

In a flurry of robes, he was off. The door to the bedroom banged closed. Richard was afraid to move for fear he would crush the little thing. It was so tiny he could hardly believe it was real. And then something happened — Richard began to grin. This was a person, a spirit, new to the world. He was beholding magic.

When he took the bathed and blanketed marvel into the bedroom, he was moved to tears to see that Elayne was very much alive. His trembling legs were hardly able to hold him.

"Elayne, you sure can dance" was the only thing he could think to say. "How did you manage to do such a wondrous thing?" The women around the bed stared at him as if he were daft.

Elayne smiled through her exhaustion. "Someday you can teach Bradley to dance, bright eyes." She held her hands out. Her grin grew as Richard gently put her child into her arms.

"Well, my boy, seems you figured it out after all." Zedd lifted an eyebrow. "Learn anything?"

Bradley must be ten by now, and called him Uncle Richard.

As he listened to the quiet, returning from the memories, Richard thought about what Cara had said.

"Yes, you will," He told her at last in a gentle tone. "Even if I have to command it, you will. I want you to feel the wonder of a new life, a new spirit, in your arms, so that you can feel magic other than that Agiel at your wrist. You will bathe him, and swaddle him, and burp him, so that you will know your tender care is needed in this world, and that I would trust my own child in that care. You will make foolish sounds to him, so that you can laugh with joy at the hope for the future, and perhaps forget that you have killed people in the past.

"If you can understand none of the rest, I hope you can understand at least this much of my reasons for what I must do."

He relaxed back in the chair, letting his muscles slacken for the first time in hours. The hush seemed to hum around him. He thought about Kahlan, and let his mind drift.

Cara whispered through tight lips and tears: a soft sound almost lost in the huge room and its tomblike silence, "If you get yourself killed trying to rule the world, I will personally break every bone in your body."

Richard felt his cheeks tighten with a smile. The darkness behind his eyelids swirled with dark plumes of color.