Then her screams began to subside, and Tlantar was sure that the worst was almost over.
After the women of the tribe had summarily turned him out of his lodge, he stayed in the lodge of the elder Tlerik, who spent most of the next two days talking about Dahlaine’s “Nation” concept. “It does make good sense, My Chief,” he said. “All this bickering and wars between the tribes don’t make much sense when we’re right on the verge of being invaded by the creatures of the Wasteland. We need to set our differences aside and start preparing for a real war.”
“Do you suppose we could talk about this some other time, Tlerik?” Tlantar said. “I’ve got something else to worry about right now.”
“I was trying to take your mind off that, Two-Hands,” Tlerik replied. “Quite often, childbirth is harder on the men than it is on the women. Don’t worry so much, Tlantar, Tleri is young and strong. She’ll come through this just fine.”
Tlantar awoke with a start. It had seemed to him that going to sleep while Tleri was in such pain would have been an act of profound disrespect, but all those sleepless hours had finally overwhelmed him. He had no idea of how long he had slept, but peculiarly, it had been silence that had aroused him. There were no screams now, and Tlantar heaved a vast sigh of relief. Tleri’s suffering was over, and he was now a father. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked the elder Tlerik.
“You needed some sleep, My Chief,” the old man replied.
“Is the child a boy or a girl?”
“Well, it was a boy, My Chief,” Tlerik replied rather somberly.
“Was? What are you talking about, Tlerik?”
“Things didn’t turn out well, My Chief. The birthing took too long, and Tleri was too weak to complete it. I’m sorry, My Chief, but your son was born dead.”
Tlantar felt a sudden wrench in his heart. “Was there no way he could have been revived?” he asked in a choked voice.
“None, My Chief. As nearly as the women who were helping Tleri could determine, the child died before he left Tleri’s womb.” There was a somewhat evasive quality in Tlerik’s voice.
“There’s something you’re not telling me, old man,” Tlantar accused.
Tlerik sighed. “Your son will not go alone into his grave, Two-Hands,” he said very quietly.
Tlantar stared at the old man in horror as the full meaning of what he’d just heard came crashing in on him. Then he threw back his head and howled in his grief.
3
Your mate’s hips were too small,” the stout woman who had tried to help Tleri said a few weeks later when Tlantar had partially regained his senses and questioned her about his mate’s death. “They were so small that the baby, who was quite large, couldn’t come out. Tleri tried very hard to force him out, but then she started to bleed, and much more blood came out than is usual. There was nothing we could do to stop the bleeding, so we couldn’t save her. I’m very sorry, Chief Tlantar, but these things happen all the time. More women die in childbirth than most people realize.”
“I’d heard that it happens now and then,” Tlantar conceded.
“‘Now and then’ isn’t too accurate, My Chief,” she said in a grim voice. “I’d say that almost half of the women with child die during the delivery.”
“Half?” Tlantar exclaimed.
“She’s right, My Chief,” Tlerik agreed.
“That doesn’t happen that often with animals, does it?” Tlantar demanded.
“No,” the stout woman said. “I asked Dahlaine about that once, and he told me that it happens to people more often than it does to animals because we walk on our hind legs instead of all four. Our hands are more useful than paws or hooves, but our bodies aren’t as strong as they should be, since the muscles in our lower bellies haven’t switched over from four legs to two yet. He told me that it might take several thousand years for our belly-muscles to change over and do things right.”
“Couldn’t Dahlaine just—” Tlantar left it hanging.
The stout woman shook her head. “I asked him about that myself, but he told me that he wasn’t supposed to tamper with us that way.”
“You might want to consider something before too much longer, Chief Two-Hands,” Tlerik said, pursing his lips. “Not right at once, of course, but after your grief has subsided, you should probably consider finding another mate.”
Tlantar shook his head. “No. Tleri was my mate, and in my heart she always will be.”
“I just wanted to raise the issue, My Chief. You absolutely must have a son who’ll become Asmie’s chief after you pass on. If you don’t have a descendant, arguments about who’ll be our next chief will break out before your body even turns cold, and those particular arguments are the ones that usually lead to bloodshed. There have been many tribes in the past that aren’t around anymore for exactly that reason.”
Tlantar firmly shook his head. “I won’t betray my Tleri for all this political nonsense, Tlerik. You should know me well enough by now to realize that.”
“You could just choose somebody else’s child,” the stout woman suggested. “That might even be a better way to do this than hanging the title on a son who might not be bright enough to tell his right hand from his left.” She hesitated. “No offense intended there, Chief Two-Hands—but just because you’re intelligent, it doesn’t really follow that your son will be as well. If everything I’ve heard about Atazakan is true, that’s the perfect example of what happens when leadership is handed off to a long succession of descendants that are increasingly incompetent—or insane.”
“She has a point there, My Chief,” Tlerik said, frowning slightly. “Sometimes bloodlines grow weaker and weaker with each passing generation, and what began as genius slides down toward idiocy eventually.” Then he looked appraisingly at the woman. “You seem to have an unusually firm grasp upon a fair number of unpleasant realities, good lady,” he observed.
“How nice of you to say so, honored elder,” she replied with a little curtsy.
“For some reason, I can’t remember ever having seen you before here in Asmie,” Tlerik said with a slight frown.
“That’s probably because you weren’t looking, old man,” she replied. “If that’s everything we have on the fire for right now, I have some other things that need my attention.” And then she turned and left Tlerik’s lodge.