Larthuza's Hut, Atmanta Tetia is unconscious by the time Venthi gets her to the healer's hut.
The old man fears the worst.
After such a huge loss of blood she is on the brink of death.
Helpers and well-wishers crush inside the healer's hut as Venthi rushes back for his son. Larthuza lays Tetia out on a rough treatment bed, and quickly gathers cloths and a pot of water that perpetually simmers on the fire.
'Thank you! Thank you! Time for you all to go now. Give me space. Give me room to work.' He flaps the watchers away, as though he's shooing a flock of unwanted geese.
Cafatia, a village seamstress of Tetia's age, stays and helps mop her skin.
The old man examines the swollen stomach pumping blood. Though the wound has missed the womb, he knows the chance of him saving either mother or child is remote. 'Wipe! Wipe here!' he instructs Cafatia as he quickly examines another wound, a flap of gaping flesh on Tetia's right arm. 'May all the gods assist us, this is beyond the stitching or healing of mere mortals.'
He wraps a length of hemp rope tightly around Tetia's bicep to stem the flow of blood as Cafatia finishes removing the patient's clothing and wiping her stomach wound.
He sees it clearly now.
It is deep.
Too deep for her to live. He puts his wrinkled old hand near Tetia's mouth to check her breathing.
Barely anything.
A noise and change of light makes him turn.
Venthi fills the doorway.
His dead son lies across his arms. 'He is alive, Larthuza. Teucer is still alive! Treat him quickly!' He lays him down next to Tetia.
Larthuza need look no closer. 'Venthi, he is dead. Let me try to save Tetia.'
'No! Save him, Larthuza, save my sweet boy.'
The old man's voice grows soft and kind. 'He is gone. He is with the gods he served so devotedly.'
Tears stream down Venthi's face. 'At least examine him! I beseech you.'
Larthuza grabs him by the arms. 'Venthi, I do not need to – he is gone! I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do for him. Now, let me attend his wife and child.'
Tetia's eyes flick open.
A shot of pain jolts through her and her good hand clutches at the healer.
Larthuza rips off the last of her blood-soaked tunic. He bends and parts her shaking pale knees. In his mind he is praying – begging – Thalna, the goddess of childbirth, for help. He glances at Venthi with a thin trace of a smile. 'I can see the child's head. I can see the baby.'
Tetia's eyes bulge. She howls like a wounded animal.
Larthuza tries gently to work his fingers around the soft bone of the child's skull.
Tetia can barely pant. Her breath is shallow and limited but she's prepared to use the last of it to deliver her child to safety.
The healer looks up at her. Her face is as white as a corpse. Her eyes as milky as those of her blinded husband.
Larthuza feels tiny shoulders in his fingers. Now the delicate bones of the baby's back and ribs.
Tetia lets loose an inhuman roar.
Her head drops.
Her legs collapse.
She is dead.
For a second everything stops as the shock of her passing fills the room. Larthuza breaks the trance. 'Venthi, lift her legs! Do it quickly! Take her beneath the knees and keep her legs open.'
The big man does as instructed.
The healer's hands work quickly. Fingers hook around the armpits of the child, and slowly he pulls.
The baby slithers out of his dead mother's body, a bloody snake of umbilical cord trailing behind.
All eyes are on the child.
The silent, non-breathing, baby boy.
Venthi can see the healer needs room. He takes his knife, slices the cord and pulls Tetia out of Larthuza's way. He lays her cold body gently against that of his dead son.
Larthuza ties the cord. Tips the baby face down in the palm of his hand and works one of his bony fingers into its mouth.
Its bloated little belly stretches to bursting point.
Then -
A splatter of dark fluid and mucus sprays from its mouth and nostrils.
But no cry erupts. Just short breaths, like an animal snuffing.
Larthuza smiles. 'You are a grandfather, Venthi. This little man is breathing.'
'Let me hold him,' Venthi stretches out his hands. 'He is the only blood that will now survive me.'
Larthuza gently passes him over. 'Careful, he is very weak. I will get something to wrap him in.'
Venthi kisses his grandson. He is perfect, bar a small tear-shaped birthmark beneath his left eye. He kisses the child, then folds Teucer's arm around his dead wife and places the baby between them. 'These are your parents, newborn. Though you never saw them, I will make sure you never forget them and you in turn will ensure the generations that follow you will always remember them.'