The Caged Bird

39. Birth

The night had settled cold and deep on the mountainside as Vayn and Devroe approached August's estate. The guards were on high alert but the small group of assassins were stealthy and skilled. Devroe was the least experienced among them but managed to move quietly as they approached the high walls. This was to be the night of their retribution as Lark lay helpless in her chambers. They would face the wrath of August and his guards. But Vayn was confident that they would defeat them. Their months spent hiding would not be in vain. She and Devroe led the group carefully up the sheer rock face and over the walls. They landed in the courtyard in a small grove of trees. Here they would wait for the opportune moment. Vayn sent a scout ahead to seek an opening for their attack. And there they waited in the darkness for the opportune time to strike.

Within the walls of the estate Lark had been suffering in labor for many hours. She and August were ignorant to the intruders that waited so close by. The patrolling guards were vigilant but had not yet detected them. Lark's pain had increased in the last minutes of labor and both August and the doctor stood dutifully by to assist her. But she was having grave complications. She cried out as contractions coursed through her. But they seemed abnormal and strangely intense. The doctor's expression was grave and desperation was beginning to show on August's face. Lark had begun bleeding and it showed no sign of stopping. She screamed and August held her as close to him as he could manage, fighting back sobs of fear and anguish. He could not lose her like this. The life of their child was such a precious gift. But it was beginning to become clear that to grant them life, Lark would have to sacrifice her own. Her own panic began to subside as her body weakened. Even if she did not survive she knew that August would care for their baby as tenderly as any father. If only her own life needed to be taken to ensure her child would thrive she was ready to make that choice. With the last of her strength she gripped August's hand tightly and pushed the infant from her body where it was quickly gathered up by the doctor who cleaned the child and delivered it to Lark's arms. It was a boy.

His cries were strong and healthy and Lark held him against her chest as a rush of relief flooded through her. The worst was over. Her son was safe. And he was beautiful. His delicate features and tiny body were perfectly formed and Lark and August were overtaken by their intense love for the tiny child they had made together. But as his light began to grow, his mother's quickly began to fade. August took his son carefully into his arms and laid beside Lark. There was nothing the doctor could do but attempt to ease her suffering. Sara entered the room with tears running freely down her face. The doctor had informed her of Lark's diagnosis. It was unlikely that she would survive the night. Sara brought her a sedative tea and held Lark's hand as she drank it, unable to find the words to thank her for her kindness and companionship. The room was filled with a mingling of joy and sorrow that made the atmosphere painful to experience.

"Thank you, my friend," Lark whispered to her. "For everything."

Sara let out a broken sob and leaned down to press her forehead against Lark's. It was the closest they had ever been. August stood awkwardly to the side, trying to comfort his new son as his own world began falling into pieces. He would need to find the will to continue even after this devastating loss. Even his centuries of life had not prepared him for the depth of his own despair. As Sara left them to spend Lark's last hours together with their child, he broke down completely. He sobbed openly as Lark fed the baby resting quietly between them. It might be the only time she would ever be able to nourish the life she had created. Even in her weakened state she reached out a pale hand to comfort her husband. He laid his head beside hers and allowed his grief to overwhelm him. As the minutes passed he could feel that her life force was waning. Soon she would be gone.

He looked deeply into her eyes, seeking words that might comfort her. But Lark was already at peace. Her smile was gentle and understanding. She reached for his hand and he held it carefully.

"I love you," she whispered. Her skin was cold against his. Colder than it had ever been. The end was near. He could already taste the bitterness of his impending loneliness. He would soon lose another woman who had touched him so deeply. It was a pain beyond imagining.

"I love you too," he replied. "You are the light in the darkness of my existence. I cannot lose you so soon. You are my life. How can I comprehend a world where you do not exist?"

"You have lived so many lifetimes, my lord. And you must live many more. Our son will look to you for guidance. You will not fail him." Her hand rested on his cheek. "You have given me a life I could have scarcely dreamed of. I would die today rather than imagine a life where you did not choose me."

She remained calm and serene as she moved her new son from her breast and delivered him to his father. As the family lay together they were for a few precious moments united in both love and grief. But all too soon Lark's eyes slowly closed and she lapsed into unconsciousness with a smile still present on her face. And it was this moment, as a veil fell over the scene of devastation, that Vayn's scout returned and their attack began.