Isadora dunked the cloth in the bowl and wrung it out quickly. She turned and pressed it to her mother's forehead.
"You are doing well, my lady," the chief midwife said from her position at the foot of the bed.
"Do you hear that, Mother?" Isadora said brightly. Her mother's grip tightened around her fingers as another contraction gripped her. As Prunaprismia's screams tore through the night air, her eldest daughter shut her eyes and tried not to tremble.
She hated seeing her mother like this. Her beautiful, kind mother who was simply the strongest woman in the castle in body and spirit looked so pale and frail on her birthing bed. Her head cradled against Isadora's shoulder and her daughter stroked her hair comfortingly.
This would be her mother's final pregnancy. Since Marisela's birth three years ago, her mother had struggled to give her father the son he desired. He loved his three daughters irrevocably but he wanted a son; he wanted an heir.
It was Lady Prunaprismia's final chance.
Isadora knew her parents loved each other deeply; always had and always would. It still didn't stop the little voices in the back of her mind that whispered that Miraz would divorce her mother or he would take a mistress and father a bastard he would try to legitimise.
As her mother gave a final cry and pushed with all her might, Isadora prayed to the Black Eagle for a brother. Please, oh please, could her final sibling be a boy…
Her mother relaxed in her arms as the cries of a newborn baby bleated. A tiny bundle was passed forward and her mother gratefully accepted it and dug through the blankets. She sighed happily and held the child out so Isadora could see.
"A boy," Isadora breathed, her eyes shining.
"A boy!" her mother agreed as she lay back against her pillows, the baby cradled against her cheek. "Oh, at long last we have a boy."
She began to cry softly as the baby was taken away to be washed.
"A boy! Oh, Dor, finally!" she sobbed. Isadora began to cry too and the two of them embraced tightly.
The baby was brought back, all clean and wrapped in a white blanket, and Prunaprismia gladly took him back. Isadora, now hiccuping through her tears, quickly wiped her slowly reddening cheeks, and leaned forward to stare at her new baby brother.
She had not been particularly fussed about either of her sisters' births (Ghaliya especially had been this red-faced mewling thing that screamed too loudly for her six-year-old ears) but he was different. She could already see that he was the most important child in the whole of Narnia and her heart swelled with love for him.
She met her father in their family's quarters in a tight embrace.
"Oh Father, he is so beautiful," she breathed. He stepped back and cupped her cheek lovingly.
"A true Lord of Telmar?" he asked.
"The strongest ever seen," she replied with a grin. He laughed and hugged her again.
"You have done well tonight, my Turtle Dove. Go now and get some rest and I shall finally meet my son," he said, stroking her hair off her face.
She smiled as he walked off.
"Is it true?" Ghaliya said from behind her. "Have we a brother?"
"Yes. Finally," she said.
Her sister emerged slowly from her room, a small look of wonder on her face.
"We have a brother?" she said as if she did not quite believe it. Tears slipped down her face and she choked out a sob. "Dor, we have a brother!"
"I know! I know," Isadora cried, fresh tears also falling down her face.
The sisters hugged tightly. It was a rare occasion for Miraz's daughters to get along - they were rather infamous for their fights and spats. Perhaps the birth of this son would do more than bring peace to his parents; maybe he would also bring his sisters' war to an end.
"I'm going to go see him," Ghaliya said, breaking off the hug. She wiped the tears away from her face before hurrying off towards their mother's room.
Isadora took a moment to compose herself. She wondered if she should awaken Marisela to tell her the joyous news. The she remembered that Marisela was only three and would probably not even understand the implications of the arrival of their brother's arrival.
There was a crack from outside and the corridor was suddenly bathed in red. She gave a cry of delight and rushed to the window.
Fireworks!
The colours were incredible. Isadora had only seen fireworks once before at some festival commemorating the Telmarines' arrival in Narnia. Fireworks were expensive. They were crafted by the Calormene alchemists deep in the South and then they had to be carefully transported by sea to reach them. This would show everyone how important her brother was. How loved he already was.
Where was Caspian? He really should be celebrating the birth of his new cousin.
Tonight was one of the nights when he would have been studying astronomy with Dr Cornelius but she thought that the fireworks would interrupt that. Mostly likely he would still be in bed. She would go and get him. He had to see these fireworks. He understood how much her family had wanted and hoped for a son.
She hurried through the castle to his chambers and burst through the door, as was her custom.
"Come on, Caspian! How could you possibly sleep through..."
Her voice faltered and died as she saw the carnage that had once been Caspian's room. The drapes around his bed had been torn to shreds by something and feathers from his bedding were caught everywhere.
She took a couple of tentative steps forward into the mess. Caspian's personal effects were gone. She had been in his room so many times that she knew it as well as her own. She knew where each thing belonged whether the room was turned upside down or as clean as could be and she could tell in an instant that something was wrong.
The room illuminated red as another firework exploded outside the windows and she lifted up one of the curtains that dangled limply against the bed-frame. Something had slashed clean through it leaving a hole wide enough for her to put her hand through. She dropped her gaze to the bed.
It had been slept in but was now empty. No blood splattered the sheets.
What had happened to Caspian?
"My lady?" a quiet voice said from behind her and she spun around.
"Cornelius!" she exclaimed. "What happened here; where is Caspian?"
Her tutor moved forward and joined her in the mess. "Caspian is gone," he told her and her stomach gave a terrible lurch. Gone? How could he be gone?
"As I understand it, when General Glozelle delivered the news of your brother's birth our Prince flew into a terrible and inexplicable rage. He destroyed his room and then vanished into the night. Glozelle and his men have gone to retrieve him," Cornelius was saying.
Another firecracker exploded and bathed the room in red again.
Isadora's eyes narrowed. There was something hidden in her teacher's face. He was keeping something from her and she did not know what.
Why was Glozelle implicated in all of this? He was a soldier and a minor Lord; not a messenger. Something was off and she could not quite grasp what exactly what it was.
It must be because of Cornelius. How she hated beards. Not shorter ones like her father bore proudly but stupidly long ones like the old tutor's. How was anyone supposed to see what one was thinking if their expression was hidden behind masses of bushy hair! She wanted to fetch a pair of scissors and slice his beard off right here and now! Let's see how evasive he could be then!
"I don't believe you," she said quietly. "Caspian is one of the kindest and calmest people I know. Why would he be pushed over the edge by my brother, a babe not even an hour old?"
"People do the strangest things when they feel threatened, my lady," her tutor replied mildly and turned to leave. She stared after him, even more confused.
Why would Caspian feel threatened by her baby brother?
So we are finally into the action of Prince Caspian. Damn, Cas, just run off and leave Dor behind, how could you?
A bit of a shorter chapter but I hope it was as good as the others. Please leave a review telling me what you think! Every one makes me smile!