‘She’s still in pretty bad physical shape, too. Once I got a proper look at her I was shocked at how much she’s been neglecting herself. But I’m hoping we’ll be able to find a healer this morning and-’
‘No. I mean yes, her physical state worries me, of course it does. But right now I’m more concerned about some of the things she’s been saying.’ He was clearly very troubled.
‘She has been coming out with some nonsensical stuff lately, it’s true. But it’s likely she’s feverish after what she’s been through.’
‘I don’t think it’s just that. This is more specific.’
‘You mean this fixation she has about confessing?’
‘Yes. I’m starting to think she might really have something she needs to get off her chest.’
‘We know that Tan killed a violent client over in Rintarah. But she has no reason to feel guilty about that. It was self-defence.’
‘It’s not that she’s been referring to.’
‘What, then?’
The baby began to cry.
‘He’s got his dad’s lungs,’ Serrah said. ‘It’s all right, he just needs feeding. I’m not sure Tan’s up to it though. I’ve got some milk here. We can warm it for him.’
‘I’ll do that and bring it through.’
‘Sure?’
‘I’m a father now, I’ve got to learn these things. Here.’ He gave back the baby. ‘I think you’d better go in.’
In Serrah’s arms, the child calmed down almost immediately. She found Tanalvah looking as white as the fresh sheets Kinsel had put on her bed, but her bleak expression brightened when she saw the baby.
‘Here he is,’ Serrah announced cheerfully, trying to lift the tone.
‘Is he all right?’
‘He’s a fit, beautiful little boy, Tan. Can you manage?’ She gently lowered the baby into her arms.
Tanalvah gazed at her son with the adoration of a new mother, but there was an evident sadness in her expression, too. She kissed the child and whispered soft endearments.
Kinsel arrived with the milk. He’d poured it into a small pottery flask with a teat made from a twist of spongy wool.
‘Let’s see that,’ Serrah said. She shook a few drops of the milk onto the back of her hand. The improvised teat worked pretty well. ‘Fine, and it’s not too hot. I can see you’re going to be good at this.’
Giving them some privacy for their baby’s first feed, she went back to the washroom. Filling a bowl from a jug of tepid water, she washed her face. She was exhausted. A lack of sleep, taking narcotics, and a big expenditure of emotional energy really took it out of you, she had discovered. But she dared to hope that things might improve with Tanalvah now she had the baby to hold.
Serrah was towelling herself dry when Kinsel came back in.
‘Can you come, please? I need you.’ His tone and looks invited no argument. Serrah tossed the towel aside and followed him.
Tanalvah still had the baby, but she was trying to hold it away from herself. She appeared physically worse than she had ten minutes before.
‘What’s this?’ Serrah asked. ‘Are you tiring?’ It was an absurd question. Tanalvah was patently shattered. But it wasn’t that.
‘I don’t deserve him,’ she said. ‘I’m not worthy.’
‘You what?’
‘You’ll think so too, when you know.’
Serrah could see that Tan’s arms must be aching from the effort of pushing away her son, not to mention the stress she was subjecting herself to. So she took the child and handed him to Kinsel, who tiptoed to the other side of the room and laid him in a cot someone had found for them.
Meanwhile, Serrah perched on the side of the bed. ‘Now what’s this nonsense about you not being worthy of your son, for the gods’ sake?’
‘It’s the way it is, Serrah. He’d be tainted by me.’
‘Look, Tan, I know some mothers feel down in the dumps after they give birth, but it passes. There’s no way your boy’s going to be tainted by you or anything else except loved.’
Tanalvah laughed. There was absolutely nothing joyful or amused about it. It was weak and cynical and despairing. ‘You wouldn’t make excuses if you knew what I-’
‘And what is it we should know?’ Serrah was fatigued enough to be feeling irritable, and starting to show it, despite her sympathy. ‘You keep hinting, Tan, but you’re not telling us. What is it that’s so terrible? Please, tell us, and let us be the judge of how awful you think you are.’
‘It’s about the great betrayal.’ She spoke low, almost in a whisper.
‘Did something happen to you at that time, darling?’ Kinsel asked kindly. ‘Something bad?’
‘You could say that.’ Her eyes moved to Serrah. ‘You vowed to kill the traitor, didn’t you?’
‘Damn right I did.’
‘Well…go ahead.’
‘You’re not making sense, Tan.’
‘You can honour your vow, Serrah.’
‘Karr told me somebody called Mijar Kayne was suspected,’ Kinsel offered.
‘A Righteous Blade man. He’s supposed to be dead.’
‘But if you know better, Tan,’ Serrah put in, ‘if you’ve seen him alive somewhere or-’
‘Listen to me,’ Tanalvah demanded, ‘both of you. I’m the traitor.’
There was a moment of silence, then Kinsel responded, ‘That’s in poor taste for a joke, my dear.’
‘It was me,’ she repeated.
Serrah and Kinsel exchanged concerned glances.
‘Why would you do such a thing?’ he said.
‘For you, my love, and for the children. For all of us as a family. I thought I’d be saving life, not taking it.’ She broke into a coughing fit. Kinsel held a mug of water for her to drink from, his hand at her nape. The drink seemed to help.
‘How did you do it?’ Serrah wanted to know.
‘I went to the clans. Eventually I got to see Devlor Bastorran. I gave him a little information, to let him know I had the connections. He didn’t take much convincing.’
‘What did you expect to get in return?’
‘Kinsel. I wanted him back from that terrible galley. Bastorran said he could do it. And he told me nobody would come to harm if I told him things about the Resistance, so I did. But he lied.’
‘How could you expect him to do anything else?’
‘Just a minute, Serrah,’ Kinsel interrupted. ‘You’re not taking this seriously, are you?’
She didn’t reply. Her instinct was to say, No, it’s insane. Tan would never dream of doing such a thing. However, she was starting to think the unthinkable.
‘Come on,’ Kinsel pleaded, ‘this is hysteria or something.’
‘It was a terrible, terrible mistake,’ Tanalvah said, ‘and I’ll burn in hell for it.’ There was the shadow of enormous weariness on her face.
‘You’re asking us to believe something incredible about you,’ Serrah remarked.
‘Wouldn’t it be even more incredible if I made up something like this?’
For Serrah, that was close to being the clincher, but there was another possibility. ‘You’ve been sick, and under a lot of pressure. How do we know it isn’t your illness talking?’
‘Because this is a deathbed confession, Serrah.’
‘Nonsense,’ Kinsel mocked, not entirely convincingly. ‘Isn’t it, Serrah? It’s rubbish. You’re just run down.’
On a hunch, Serrah reached out to the sheet covering the bed. Tanalvah didn’t try to stop her. Their eyes locked, and Serrah saw something of the old Tan there. Serrah pulled back the sheet.
‘My gods, no,’ Kinsel gasped. He involuntarily looked away.
The bed was soaked through with blood, as was Tanalvah’s nightgown. Serrah looked on in horror. She didn’t know where to start, what to do.
‘Now do you believe me?’ Tanalvah said, her voice barely above a whisper.
‘You didn’t say. If you’d told us you were losing blood again we might have been able to help you. Gods, Tan, we were standing here talking to you, and all the while…’
‘I’m beyond help in this world.’ The strength was going out of her.
‘We have to get a healer,’ Kinsel said.
‘Kinsel…’
‘Don’t look at me like that, Serrah. What do you know about it? You’re not a doctor.’
‘No, but I’m a fighter. I’ve seen blood loss before.’
‘We can’t just-’
‘Kinsel,’ Tanalvah whispered.
Kneeling, he grasped her hand and pressed it to his lips. ‘My love.’
‘I’m so sorry, dear.’