My first Forgotten Realms fic. Dedicated to Letreen with all my respect, admiration and gratitude. S'lamat Hari Jadi!!

Disclaimer: Artemis Entreri and all the characters in this fic belong to R. A. Salvatore.


Mama-hal

By evening, she was running a high fever. Her pale skin was flushed and in her feverish fits, she had tossed off the blankets Artemis had so carefully tucked around her. Sweat trickled down her temple and soaked the neck of her faded dress. He did not dare to leave her side, except to get the water she asked for hoarsely.

Not for the first time in his life, Artemis Entreri was afraid.

The helplessness only made it worse. All he could do was hold her hand reassuringly, fetch water for her or change the cold compress he had put on her forehead. But no matter what he did, it was not enough.

He did not even know what was wrong with her. She had seemed all right this morning, cooking breakfast, cleaning up the hovel that they called home and then sitting to weave baskets that his father would sell at the market.

He had come home from the streets, eager to show her the items he had found by scrounging in the dumpsites, things that could easily be mended for their own use, or sold. Instead, he found her lying in bed. At first he had thought that she was only tired. After all, the heat was enough to make anyone sleepy and lethargic. Especially now, in the afternoon, when Toril's sun beat down relentlessly upon the desert city of Memnon.

He had bent down to give her a swift peck on her cheek before he would venture out again, but the heat the radiated from her had made him stop short. Belatedly, he also realised that Shanali would never dare sleep during the day, for fear of the husband's anger at her 'laziness'.

For the first time for as long as he could remember, his mother was ill.

"Mama-hal."

"Mama-hal." His voice was a little louder, a little more impatient, and a little more desperate.

"Mama-hal, please wake up. Please."

She lay still, her eyes closed, the rising and falling of her thin chest being the only sign that she was still alive. "Mama-hal," he whispered as he rested his head on her stomach. "Mama-hal, please don't die."

She did not answer. Artemis gnawed his already scabby lips. He was torn between the desire to seek for help and the need for him to stay here with her. But then again, who would help someone who could barely pay for a day's food?

He could never ask his father. The least that that useless lump of a man would do was to ignore him. Or maybe he would beat him for leaving the house unwatched. Either way, his father did not care, had never cared and would not start caring either if his wife died.

"Artemis." She whispered his name hoarsely through dry lips, her voice thin and weak.

"I'm here Mama-hal."

She opened her eyes, a deep grey colour like his own; the colour of the smooth stones that often lay on the shores of the lakes of Calimshan's few oases. He was glad that he looked more like her than his father. He was proud to have her eyes, dark hair and slender frame. Artemis hated that lazy, slovenly, drunkard of a wife-beater enough already; at least there was no need to hate himself too, each time he saw his own reflection.

"My boy." She raised a weak hand to brush it through his unruly hair. As she lowered it he took it gently and pressed it to his cheek. It was hot against his skin.

"Mama-hal, I love you. Please don't leave me."

She smiled at him reassuringly, but the smile was a weak one. Almost immediately, harsh, racking coughs shook her wasted body. Each loud cough made Artemis' heart sink further. At last the coughs subsided and she sank back onto the threadbare pillow.

"I love you, Artemis." She squeezed his hand weakly. "I won't leave you. I promise."

A tear trickled down his cheek and he saw that her eyes too, swam.

The curtain behind him was pushed aside and his father's tall, thin shadow rose over him. "What's it with her?" Belrigger asked, jerking his head in his wife's direction, once his piggy eyes had taken in the entire scene.

Artemis rose to his feet. "Mama-hal's ill."

His father frowned, but not out of concern for his wife. "Who will cook then? I'm hungry."

Artemis lost his patience. His mother was ill, maybe even dying and all this man cared about was his dinner. In his desperation, he did something he would never have done under normal circumstances. He grabbed his father's arm and shook it. "She's ill!" he yelled. "Mama-hal's ill. She needs help, she needs a–"

Suddenly he was tumbling to the ground, his head ringing from the blow his father had just given him. The man loomed over him. "Go," he said, pointing in the direction of the kitchen.

Slowly, Artemis rose to his feet and trudged to the tiny roofless compound outside which they called a kitchen. Sometimes, he could not help but hate himself for being so submissive. Right now he wanted nothing more than to grab a pot and throw its boiling contents over that man's head.

As he cooked, he surreptitiously laid aside a few morsels of for his mother, although he seriously doubted that she could eat anything. After serving his father the food, he retreated back into his mother's room, bringing along the plate of food he had sat aside for her. He himself hadn't eaten yet and his father would probably eat all the food, leaving none for him. He did not care. Right now, he would willingly fast for a thousand years if that would make his mother better.

"Eat, mama-hal," he begged.

Shanali weakly shook her head. "I can't. Eat it yourself," she murmured.

"I'm not hungry, mama-hal. Please."

She finally obliged, taking a small mouthful of food, chewing and swallowing painfully. He then gave her a sip of water to wash it down.

"Better now?" he asked.

She nodded, a strained smile on her face. "You are such a good boy, Artemis."

The curtain swung open and his father and another man entered the room. Artemis started, and jumped to his feet knocking over the plate of food. Belrigger cursed at the waste of food and reached forward to strike his son, but the boy stepped nimbly out of the way.

"Who's he?" Artemis asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at second man.

"A healer." Belrigger waved a dismissive hand at the woman lying on the floor. "He can help her."

Artemis did not believe a word of it. They could never afford a healer and nobody in this part of Memnon ever did anything out of the kindness of their hearts. He probably was not a real healer, more likely one of the quacks and charlatans that sold useless amulets of protection and ended up killing their patients with their concoctions. And he didn't like the look in the man's eyes, his false, leering smile. He stepped protectively in front of his mother.

"Go away. She doesn't want you."

"I decide what any of you want, boy," Belrigger growled. "And what you want is a good trashing. Get lost."

"No."

Belrigger started forward but the stranger was quicker, shoving the scrawny boy, roughly to the floor and kneeling next to the sick woman.

"Don't touch her!" Artemis yelled as he scrambled to his feet and launched himself at he man. A strong hand grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back, before landing a heavy, stinging slap on his cheek. Artemis hardly noticed the pain.

"Mama-hal!" he screamed as he was dragged out of the room. "Mama-hal!"

"Shut up, boy!" Belrigger lashed out once again with the back of his hand, and Artemis let out an involuntary gasp as his head jerked back with the force of the blow. He immediately stopped shouting, but continued to struggle against his father's hold.

"Stop it!"

Artemis was dumped unceremoniously on the dirty floor, and received a kick in the ribs for good measure. He almost rose back to his feet, but seeing the look in Belrigger's face, one threatening the worst beating he'd ever receive, he thought better of it. He curled up in one corner of the room, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs, trying to ignore the sounds that came from the other side of the partitioning curtain. Hot tears stung his eyes and he angrily forced them away, hiding his face so that Belrigger would not see this weakness.

Mama-hal.


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