Chapter Twelve
Davos tipped his head to the side, as if he couldn’t quite make out what Blake was telling him. “Say that again,” he said, his voice sounding puzzled.
“I think I may be pregnant,” Blake replied, watching his face carefully.
“As in…?”
“As in expecting a child. Got a bun in the oven. I’m knocked up! Damn it, Davos, try to keep up! I think I’m pregnant.”
He stepped closer, looking a little wary, and put a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “Did you take your medicine today?”
“Yes, I took it. And I’ve taken it every day for the past month or so, and that’s probably why I’m in this fix now!”
“I-I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either, really. It must be the medicine your so-called doctors are giving me. It has to be hormones. Pregnancy hormones! That must have been in those injections too, at the hospital. I already have a uterus, so it wouldn’t have taken much to start things up again. And I was always pretty easy to get pregnant.”
“Wait a moment, slow down. Why would they give you such a thing? You’re letting your imagination run wild again and making yourself upset. The doctors have simply been giving you medicine to calm your nerves.”
“Calm my nerves, huh? Get them up here and let’s ask them exactly what they’ve been giving me. Tell them to bring whatever they need to do a pregnancy test on me too, because I’m telling you. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a baby. Your baby.”
Davos rolled his eyes and patted his arm again. “Settle down. I don’t want to have to ask them to sedate you again.”
Blake narrowed his eyes at him and replied through clenched teeth. “Get. Them. Up. Here.”
With only one more small sigh, Davos spoke into his communicator to his assistant. “Octavion, come to my private chamber. I need to speak to you.”
“Not him. The doctors. You don’t need to talk to Octavion about this. It’s my baby. Talk to me.”
Davos turned impatiently toward him. “I would like it very much if you went over there and sat down. You’re distracting me.”
The door opened and Octavion walked in without knocking, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Blake balling up his fist and pulling it back to hit Davos. Davos caught his fist in a practiced hand, then grabbed the other one as it came around his other side. He held Blake effortlessly to him and glanced up at Octavion, frowning. “Ah, come in, Octavion. Blake and I were having a small disagreement.”
“I…see, Sire. Can I be of assistance?” he glared at Blake, as if any “assistance” he gave would be in the form of tossing Blake headfirst out the nearest window. Blake had long suspected Octavion had a huge crush on Davos, but naturally, could never express his feelings because of the difference in their stations. It must have been excruciating for him to see Davos take up with someone like Blake. Blake knew all this, intellectually, though it still didn’t make him like Octavion any better.
Over the last two weeks he and Derrick had been there in the palace, Octavion had grown increasingly unfriendly. He always acted toward Blake with icy politeness, but Blake always knew it was just that—an act. Each time he walked in on Blake and Davos in their rooms, which never seemed to bother Davos in the least, but drove Blake crazy, he gave Blake his bitter looks. And every time he noticed Davos touching Blake in any way—and he always seemed to notice and stare—Blake felt the coldness growing until he expected frost to begin forming on the interior walls.
Blake glared back at Octavion, daring the aide to say something negative about him, because Blake seriously wasn’t in the mood for this. In the past when he’d told Davos the news of another successful attempt at a pregnancy, it had been a tender and joyful moment for the two of them, incredibly different from this one. There had never before been someone staring at him with bitterness and jealousy and cold contempt, for one thing, nor had he ever had to try to convince Davos that he wasn’t totally insane and imagining things.
“Blake thinks the injections and the medicines the physicians have been treating him with contain hormones.”
“Pregnancy hormones,” Blake broke in. “I recognized the pain from the injections.”
Davos ignored him and continued speaking to Octavion. “Please explain to him that he’s mistaken.”
Octavion glanced from Blake back to Davos and lifted one shoulder, his oddly tinted hair falling across his brow. “I-I’m sorry, Sire, but I can’t give that reassurance. I believe they do contain some of those hormones.”
“Aha!” Blake shouted, twisting around to look at Davos, who was still ignoring him and frowning at Octavion.
“What? But why would they? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“There are two types of hormones, I believe, in the injections, though you’d have to talk to the doctors to make sure. They both have agents that aid in the maintenance of blood-sugar levels, memory function, and emotional balance. They help with relaxation and reduction of anxiety, I believe. As you know, we have no drugs for mania, no anti-psychotic medicines as we have no mental illnesses in our people. We are far superior to humans in that regard,” he glanced over at Blake. “… as in many others.”
“Bullshit,” Blake muttered and Davos squeezed him.
“Hush, Blake, I’m trying to understand this. Why was I not informed that my bed slave was being treated with pregnancy hormones?” Davos said, getting louder.
“I…uh…Sire, I believe that the physicians didn’t know he was a bed slave at first. And they seemed to calm him quite a bit, so they simply...continued their use. But they switched him to tablets, which I think are much milder. They had no idea he would be so susceptible to them.”
“Gods!” Davos thundered, dropping Blake’s hands and rounding on Octavion. Blake had seen Davos in a rage before and wanted no part of this one. He backed slowly away as Davos advanced on Octavion, waving his hands in the air and speaking in that rapid and incomprehensible Tygerian they used here on Tveir. Turning his back on the scene, Blake slipped quickly into his own room, which now adjoined Davos’s and went over to the window to look out and try to calm down, as Davos kept telling him to do. The weather outside couldn’t seem to make up its mind. First there had been snow and then that had turned to icy rain and now snow had begun to fall again, though it was only little white fluffs, drifting lazily down, not sticking to any of the building yet, but dusting the ground a bit.
Blake hugged himself, shivering a little, whether from reaction or the cold slipping through the crevices around the windows, he wasn’t sure. Davos was still yelling and banging around in the other room. Blake hadn’t expected him to be happy about the news, but he’d hoped… He’d hoped that he might be a little pleased and maybe excited about the possibility of their bringing a new life into the universe. Although, come to think of it, what universe might that be? He still longed for his children and his home—his real home. If and when—he had to think when because he couldn’t envision a life never seeing his children again—he returned to that real home, he wanted no ties left behind him to this world. He had to convince Davos to come with him, of course, and he thought he needed to go back before the child was born, while it was still a part of his body.
According to Derrick and Rhaegar’s theories about the Never Never and alternate universes, the baby didn’t exist at home, so it might be fine. But what if the baby simply disappeared like his crewmen had done? He tried to imagine how that might feel to have his baby snatched by an indifferent universe right out of his arms. An insupportable thought! It might be fine, but there were just too many uncertainties and he couldn’t rely on their “theories.”
Blake bit nervously at his fingernail, biting the cuticle and making it bleed. How could he be in such a mess? If he couldn’t get back soon…then what was going to happen to him? To his baby? The yelling had finally stopped next door, and Blake could hear Davos’s voice rising and falling rapidly, but without the anger it had contained before. What were they saying to each other?
The door opened suddenly and Davos came in, followed by Octavion, whose eyes were stormy and whose normally pale face was splotched with red. Davos walked immediately over to stand by Blake. He took his hand in his and frowned as he saw the torn cuticle. He pulled Blake into his arms.
“You’re upset. But there’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m going to take care of this.”
“What do you mean?”
Davos was patting his head. It was irritating in the extreme to be patted like a pet animal, but because it was Davos, and because Blake knew he probably meant well, he endured it, trying to keep his temper on an even keel. “The physicians are on the way upstairs now to do their examination. Let’s hear what they have to say and let them run their tests. In the meantime, try not to worry. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”
“Bad? What exactly do you mean by bad?”
“No human has had a child on Tveir in over thirty of your Earthan years,” Octavion said. “Your human male physiology makes it difficult to have a successful outcome, besides the obvious difficulties in having our people accept such a child.”
Blake turned in Davos’s arms and fixed Octavion with a look of unadulterated dislike. “Maybe your so-called doctors should have thought of that before they gave me the fucking injections.”
Octavion met his look head-on and returned a similar one of his own. “I’ve already explained the physicians had no idea a-a…person like you was having sex with the king.” He glanced up at Davos. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I certainly meant to cast no aspersions on you, Sire.”
Before Davos could reply, the door opened to admit two of the doctors who had been treating Blake. The third one was still back at the prison hospital, they explained to Davos, as they came in, speaking Earthan for once. But they had been in touch with him on their communicators, they said. Davos released Blake and stepped back as the doctors came to take his arms and lead him over to his bed. Davos sent Octavion from the room with a curt nod and then stood by the window looking out as the doctors did their examination.
Blake had been through many such examinations before, but none quite so thorough as this one. He was undressed, then poked and prodded within an inch of his life until he thought he might scream. They took a quick blood sample and used their portable scans all over his body, speaking softly to each other as they worked. When they finished, they left him without a word to go over and confer with Davos, bowing deeply to him and not quite meeting his stern gaze. Blake could make little sense of what they said, but it was obvious from Davos’s expression that the news was not what he’d wanted to hear.
When they finally left, Blake sat up, putting his clothing back on and waiting to hear what Davos had to say. Davos had turned back to stare out the window at the falling snow, and he looked both sad and angry. Finally, he came over to sit beside Blake on the bed and put his arm around him.
“I don’t know what to say. They’ve confirmed you are indeed pregnant. Just barely, they said. They both strongly agree that to have the child would be…almost certain death for you. They might be able to save the child, but you would…” he put his arm around Blake and held him close to his side. “You would almost certainly bleed to death. They wouldn’t be able to stop the hemorrhaging.” He kissed the top of Blake’s head. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to worry about this, however. They’ve assured me an abortion would be quick and easy at this stage and perfectly safe. You’ll be up and around in no time at all. Sweetheart? Did you hear me?” Davos said, kissing him again. He pulled Blake to his feet to stand between his legs so he could peer down into his face.
It was sweet the way he’d adopted Blake’s word, sweetheart. He had used it at first in a mocking tone to show his jealousy of Derrick, but now he used it more and more often in a much different way. Still he only pulled the word out to use it when Blake was in extreme favor. Or when he was in Blake’s extreme disfavor.
“Do you understand, sweetheart? Do you have any questions?”
“No.”
“Really? None at all? And you’re not worried about any of this, are you?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Oh? Well…good. I’m relieved. I thought you’d be more upset.”
“No reason to be. Because I’m not having any fucking abortion. Not now, not ever.” He rubbed his belly as it made a growling sound. “Hey, do you think you could get them to bring me another food tray? I think I could eat a little something now.”
****
Derrick came in right in the middle of the fight. Blake saw him at the door, staring in and trying to decide whether or not he should interrupt the yelling. Davos turned and growled at him.
“Get out of here!”
“Don’t speak to him that way!” Blake beckoned to him. “Come on in, sweetheart and stand over here by me. I need the support.” Derrick hurried over to stand beside his omak, and Davos shot them a look so poisonous it should have killed both of them where they stood.
Derrick ignored it though and defiantly put his arm around Blake, then pulled him down to sit on the bed beside him. A double offense, since it was against law and custom to sit in the king’s presence. Davos scowled ferociously at Blake.
“I will not speak about our private business in front of this boy.”
“Then leave, if you wish. But I meant what I said. I refuse to kill my own child.”
Derrick gave him an alarmed look and Blake patted his knee. “Not you, baby. The one I’m carrying. Your father wants me to have an abortion.”
Derrick’s mouth fell open a little and he glanced back at Davos as he yelled something at Blake and then back at Blake as he answered, feeling like he was watching one of his omak’s “Ten S lessons.” He was pretty sure that was what Blake used to call it. Blake had once tried to teach him and his brothers the “game,” as Blake had referred to it, though it wasn’t at all like any of their tournament games, or any of the other war games they enjoyed. They had all been out of school at the time, due to some holiday or other, and Blake had rounded all of them up to go “get some exercise.” All except for Mikos, who was off fighting the war, and as the eldest, got to have all the fun.
Derrick secretly thought the game was a silly kind of thing where they ran around a patch of lawn batting a small ball back and forth to each other across a long piece of see-through cloth his omak called improvised and called a “net.” It certainly wasn’t a manly game or any kind for a warrior. No one got bashed by anybody’s weapon or got the least bit bloody, which was what Blake said was the point. His omak could be very confusing sometimes.
Nicarr and Larz spent most of their time during the lessons batting each other over the head with the flat, wooden club anyway. It had a wire screen in the hollowed out middle. His omak called them “Ten S racquets.” Anarr was supremely bored with it all and complained that the racquets weren’t any good to hit someone with because they wouldn’t hurt anybody, so what was the point? Blake replied that you weren’t supposed to hit people with them. You were supposed to hit the ball with them. Which made absolutely no sense, because how would that help you win a fight? Especially when his omak said they couldn’t aim the ball at each other’s heads.
He and Derrick finally came up with the idea of using the racquet things to spar with, like swords, to his omak’s great disgust. The only one who showed any aptitude at all was Anarr’s twin, Vannos. Blake said he showed some promise, though he still had a long way to go. Then his father caught them at it and put an end to the “lessons,” saying his boys needed to be learning the tournament games and not wasting time on these silly human pursuits. His father and Blake had a bad fight about that, as Derrick recalled, but the lessons ended all the same, with Blake storming off, saying his father could entertain them then, for all he cared, but not to bring any of them back until he’d worked off some of their excess energy, because they were driving him crazy and breaking up all the furniture with their constant fighting.
Derrick let his mind roam through that old memory for a while as his two fathers’ argument ebbed and flowed around him until it finally reached a critical point. “I’m not having this conversation!” Davos thundered. “You’ll do as you’re told and that’s an end to it!”
“I will not!”
“We’ll see about that!” Davos shouted and turned abruptly to storm out of the room, slamming the door furiously behind him.
“Impossible man,” Blake muttered.
“Omak, explain to me what’s happening. Why does he want you to have an abortion?”
“Oh, something about the idiot doctors here haven’t had a human male pregnancy in over thirty earth years, and they think I would bleed to death, or something like that. I wasn’t paying that much attention.”
“What do you mean you weren’t paying attention? Omak, tell me!”
“Oh honey, I don’t know all the details. There has to be a surgery, you know, when the baby is born. The bleeding has to do with the blood supply to the uterus—it’s complicated, but once the doctors cut open the uterus, the blood supply is severed, and sometimes, and not often, I’m sure, they can’t stop the bleeding. It’s never been a problem on Tygeria, because the doctors there know just what to do. They used to do it here too, but it was a long time ago, apparently. I’m sure they can locate the old records, read up on it…”
“Read up on it! Omak, this is serious.”
“Don’t you think I know that, Derrick?” Blake replied, his tone a little sharp. He shook his head then and grasped Derrick’s hand. “Honey, I don’t know what to do about it. I won’t—I can’t have an abortion. And I can’t convince Davos to believe me when I tell him what happened and who I really am, and-and I can’t get back home! So what am I supposed to do?” He put his face down in his hands and blew out a long sigh.
“That’s what I came to tell you, omak. I just saw Rhaegar!”
“What? Where?”
“In the garden downstairs. And then he told me to meet him in the palace passageways. Did you know this palace is an exact replica of the one at home? Even down to the secret passageways in the walls?”
“I knew it was a replica, yes, but I didn’t know they carried it that far. My God. So someone could spy on me in my own room? At any time?”
“Yes, of course. Not in the king’s room though. I’m sure Father wouldn’t stand for that.”
“Yes, but tell me about Rhaegar. Tell me everything! Only…” Blake looked around suspiciously and lowered his voice. “Not here. Let’s go in Davos’s room and then I want to hear all about it.”
Derrick followed Blake through the connecting door and then Blake turned to Derrick excitedly as he pulled him down to a low, uncomfortable bench that was far away from any walls. “Now,” he said in a soft, whispery voice. “Tell me everything.”
“He said he came back for us. For me and you and that he would take us to the Never Never.”
“What? But that’s amazing news! Did he locate the Lycan’s ship?”
“No. That’s the not-so-good part. He hasn’t found a ship yet of any kind, but as soon as he does, he says he’ll come for us. He’s been hiding in the forest, I guess, all this time. Oh, and he said if we need him before he returns, to put this kerchief on the garden door and he’d get the message and come.”
“How does he plan to manage that?”
Derrick shrugged. “Rhaegar always knows people in low places. He probably knows someone on the kitchen staff. He says it pays to get to know people because you never know when you might need them to do you a favor.” He pulled the red cloth out of his pocket and held it up proudly. “Here’s the kerchief. You know, I knew all along he’d come back for me. I never doubted him for a moment.”
“Uh huh.” Blake smiled at him and pulled him in for a hug just as the door opened behind them and Octavion stood framed there in the shadowy doorway, looking in at them as if he was startled to find them in an embrace.
“I do hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” he said dryly, his voice heavy with innuendo.
“No, you don’t. But as it happens, my son and I were simply talking. Sorry to disappoint you. What do you want, Octavion?”
“To tell you the doctors want to set you up for your operation as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning is open for them, so I told them that would be fine.”
“Well, then go un-tell them. I’m not having any abortion.”
“I don’t understand. His Majesty did tell you that you will die without it?”
“Yes, His Majesty told me. I’ll take my chances.”
Octavion frowned and looked at Blake like he was indeed as insane as everyone had thought all along. “Even if you survived the birth of the child, which is highly doubtful, you’d never be allowed to keep it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“A half-human child for the king of Tveir? When we’re in a deadly war with all the humans? And this child will look half-human, you know. There were no suppression drugs in the ones they gave you.”
“There…weren’t?”
“No, of course not. The intention was never for you to become pregnant! The drugs were simply to calm down your ravings. This child will look half human, and that will never be allowed. If you continue with the pregnancy, and the child lives, it will be taken away immediately, never to return here. Otherwise, the king’s cousins, who have never been happy about his succession, will cause trouble for the king and may even stage a rebellion of some kind. Not that you would care about any of that, of course.”
Blake stared coldly at him. “Get out of here, Octavion. I’m tired of looking at you.”
He sneered at Blake and turned on his heel to leave. He stopped at the door for one parting shot, however. “I’ll leave the appointment as it is. The king will have something to say about whether or not you use it. It’s not as if your opinion actually matters one way or the other.”
Blake jumped to his feet and might have gone after him if Derrick hadn’t held him back. Blake paced instead, fuming, up and down the middle of the room. He stopped at one point and pointed his finger at Derrick.
“I meant what I said.”
“I know, omak.”
Blake began pacing again and again he stopped after a moment and this time glared at Derrick. “I’ll kill those doctors before I let them touch me. Don’t think I won’t!”
“I know, omak.”
He paced a bit more and suddenly stopped, sagging in on himself. Derrick was beside him in a minute and helped him over to the bed. “I’m scared, baby,” Blake said, so softly Derrick had to strain to hear. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, or even if Davos will let me keep this pregnancy.”
“I’m going to go get Rhaegar. He’ll know what to do.”
Blake twisted around to look up at him. “How will you do that? The kerchief? It may not be in time.”
“We just have to hope it is. Rhaegar can take us out of here. And if he can’t, then I’ll find a way.”
“Be careful, Derrick—they think Rhaegar’s a pirate and an outlaw. They’ll believe it of you too.”
Derrick smiled gently. “He is a pirate and an outlaw, omak. But he’s going to do better in the future. He’s promised me. I’m going to ask Father to give him a pardon.”
“Right. Good luck with that.”
“In the meantime, I’ll take the kerchief down to the garden now, but I want you to rest while I’m gone.”
Blake nodded and leaned back against the headboard as Derrick slipped out of the king’s room and back into Blake’s, where he figured he would find a passage into the walls. He knew where most of the passageways were, having chased in and out of the ones back home with his brothers for his entire childhood. It would be behind the bed and to the right, behind the heavy tapestries hanging there. He located it right away and slipped inside, heading down to the garden.
****
When Derrick didn’t come back after a moment, Blake knew he must have located the secret passage in his room and wondered how many times someone had used it to spy on him. Idly, he went over to lie down and rest. Since his illness on Moravia at Vannos’s wedding, he’d had an occasional stress migraine, and he was afraid he felt on coming on now. He lay down on his back and willed himself not to worry, but that was far easier said than done.
Blake lay drowsing on the bed for close to an hour. He was wondering what was taking Derrick so long to come back, when the door flew open again without warning and again, without the benefit of a knock, Octavion stood poised in the doorway looking at him.
“God, what is it now?”
“The king has sent me to fetch you.” He snapped his fingers. “Get up and come with me.”
“Don’t snap your fingers at me like I’m a dog.”
“A what?”
“Never mind. Just don’t do it. What is it anyway? I’m resting because I don’t feel well.”
“Nevertheless, you need to come with me.”
Blake rolled his eyes and got up slowly. It was easier to comply than to argue. He stood up and straightened his clothing, then followed the increasingly annoying Octavion out of the room and down the hallway to the throne room. It was always a bit of a surprise to see Davos on the carved wooden throne, looking regal and powerful and dangerous, when just a few hours before Blake had been cuddling with him in bed. Not that Davos would ever admit to cuddling.
He was dressed as he always was, but now he had a thin, golden circlet on his head, studded with diamonds. Blake hadn’t seen him in that before and he thought Davos looked very handsome in a rough-edged way. A small group of Tygerians, all older men and all dressed in dark clothing, were standing to the side of the throne—ministers, perhaps. Davos looked at Blake as he came in, his eyes troubled, and Blake wondered what had been going on in this room before he got there. The thought suddenly alarmed him.
“I’ve brought the human, Sire.”
“The human has a name, asshole,” Blake said, then regretted saying it as the group beside Davos frowned and whispered to each other. Ah, so this was a formal meeting. He could do formal. Blake bowed deeply to Davos, putting out one foot and sweeping his hand in front of him.
“Your Majesty. You sent for me, Sire?”
Davos glanced up at him, and Blake was almost sure his lips twitched the slightest bit in amusement. “I did. I thought you should be here for this, since we’re discussing the uh…the child.”
“I see. Or no, I really don’t. Why should our child be a topic of discussion for this bunch of assholes?”
“Keep a civil tongue, human,” one of the black clad ministers said, scowling fiercely at Blake. “We’re here to discuss what to do about this potentially disastrous pregnancy.”
“Disastrous for whom? For you? I don’t think that big belly of yours is from any pregnancy, so what the hell do you know about it?” Blake cut his blazing eyes back to Davos. “Or maybe it’s a big disaster for you, Davos. Admitting that you made such a giant mistake. I do have to say you’re a fast worker, though. I had no idea you went running straight to your ministers over every occurrence in your private life.”
Davos simply stared steadily back at him until another one of his ministers, a man with a bristly red beard, interrupted their stare-down. “When an ‘occurrence’ has the potential to be a huge scandal, he has the obligation to discuss it with us. It’s in our bylaws,” Redbeard said. The fat one, the one who had first spoken, then stepped closer to Blake.
“We’ve advised the king to end this pregnancy at once and put you aside. Or at the very least, to hide you away until he’s tired of you. This alliance with a human is despicable and unseemly. Why, it’s…”
“Enough!” Davos said. His voice hadn’t been loud, but its sharpness had put an effective end to any other sound in the room. The ministers who had spoken to Blake bowed deeply and stepped back. Octavion faded away in the background too until only Blake was standing in front of the throne. Davos was sunk back in his great carved chair and his hand covered his unsmiling mouth. He closed his eyes for a moment and Blake knew. Decision was settling over Davos like the snow falling outside, a first, fine dusting to build upon. He was going to tell Blake he had to end his pregnancy. Blake could see it on his face, but he had no idea how to stop it. Blake began to tremble, and he thought he saw his child’s death in Davos’s eyes.
His stomach gave a sick lurch and he felt a sharp pain in his head and the bile rise in his throat. Of course, that would be his decision. He didn’t want a child, and certainly not with an enemy that most of his court thought of as an Alliance spy. Black spots danced in front of Blake’s eyes as he sent one last mute appeal to Davos.
He took a stumbling step forward and then did the only thing it was possible to do for him in that moment. His eyes rolled upward, and he fell to the floor in a dead faint.