THE DEMON'S LEGACY
Chapter 17
Dr. Misra was called away from the palace to attend to a medical emergency in the village, and as soon as he left, Maysam sent Hisham to Bane's suite to invite Barsad to see his son.
"We will wait, brother," Bane said. "You and Sanjana need some time alone with your child. When Sanjana feels ready, send for us."
"Want to see baby," Henri said, having been awake from his nap for some time now.
"Soon, sweetheart," Talia said.
Henri crossed his arms and made a petulant face.
"Only a cub of mine who behaves gets the privilege of meeting the new babe," Bane warned.
Henri emitted a gentle whine and fell back on the couch in frustrated surrender.
"Don't worry, kid," Barsad said. "We'll get you in before the doc comes back."
Just as Barsad hurried into the hallway, the elevator doors opened not far away, and Nyssa stepped out with two guards. Barsad's hackles rose, his steps faltered. Just as Nyssa marched past the infirmary door, the cries of his child inside drew everyone's attention. Nyssa's eyebrows raised in curiosity, but her guards kept her moving. Barsad waited for her to draw near.
"Is that what sent you running from downstairs?" she asked with feigned interest. "Sounds like a newborn to me."
Barsad scowled at the guards. "Her room's ready?"
"Yes, sir."
Barsad stepped nose to nose with her, growled, "Be careful on your veranda; it's a long ways down."
Nyssa grinned. "Will do, Daddy." She chuckled. "Didn't take you for parent material, Barsad."
"Get her outta my sight."
She chuckled again as one of the men prodded her, and Barsad stepped aside. Blood boiling, fists clenched, he watched her go until she was escorted into a room at the far end of the hallway. Damn it, there was no veranda in that room. With a snort, he turned back toward the infirmary.
Quietly he opened the door and poked his head inside the dim room. Both Sanjana and Maysam, who sat on the opposite side of Sanjana's bed from the incubator, looked to him with relieved, welcoming smiles. The baby had stopped crying when the door opened.
"John," Sanjana said sleepily, as if she had just awakened from a nap.
Maysam hurried across the room as he entered. "Congratulations, John." She touched his arm and stopped short of kissing his cheek before looking back at Sanjana. "I will leave you two alone."
"Thanks, Maysam," Barsad said, his throat unexpectedly tightening, Nyssa forgotten. "For everything."
"I'm glad I could help. Take your time. Misra should be gone a while, but don't worry—we can call him back if he's needed, but the baby seems to be doing fine."
She offered him an encouraging smile, but Barsad thought he caught something almost wistful in her eyes. Then she was gone, closing the door behind her, and the only sounds in the infirmary were those of the baby's heart monitor.
Barsad couldn't move right away, his feet like cold, heavy stones. This all seemed unreal, like a dream. His son lay just across the room, helpless, dependent on him, just as Sanjana was now. She looked happy but drained.
"John," she said softly, "come see our son."
His feet shuffled then took him across the room. Knees weakening again, he sank to the edge of the bed, taking Sanjana's hand and kissing it. He didn't know who to look at—Sanjana or the infant—but he couldn't get enough of the sight of either of them.
The baby's eyes were closed, but the movement of his arms and legs within the swaddling told Barsad that he was awake. A blue and white crocheted hat warmed his head, his face—dark, but not as dark as Sanjana's—was currently a mottled pink.
"Maysam knitted that hat for him," Sanjana said. "He's so tiny, it only took minutes for her to do. She made matching booties for him, too, while I was sleeping. We need to keep him warm. The doctor said his body isn't capable yet of doing it."
Considering the tubing attached to his son's nose, Barsad said, "How long will he have to be on oxygen?"
"The doctor doesn't think long. He said, everything considered, his lungs sound strong."
Barsad smiled at the little bundle. "Have you been able to feed him?"
"Yes. It's not very easy, but Maysam said I will get the hang of it soon. I have to say, I'm so grateful to Maysam. She was wonderful during the birth. I don't know what I would have done without her."
"I wish I could have been here for you. I started to come back, but Bane stopped me."
"I'm glad he did, bunny. I wanted you here, too, but it was too risky."
Barsad frowned, let the regret drift away, pleased that Sanjana appreciated Maysam. "How are you feeling, darlin'?"
"Tired and sore. But happy." She turned her head on the pillow to look at their child. "James."
"My brother would be honored."
"Henri will be so excited to have a little boy to play with. I don't think he would know what to do with a girl."
"Yeah, Bane's little peanut wanted to come with me to see James just now."
"You should fetch him."
"No, not yet." He smiled. "I want you two all to myself for a minute. Never know when the doc will come back."
He retrieved Maysam's chair and set it between Sanjana and the incubator. Then he took her hand again, and together, saying nothing, they watched their son drift to sleep, the warmth of the room enveloping them in total peace.
###
Nyssa's armed guards closed the door behind her without a word.
She had half-expected that her room would be some closet-sized, rarely-used space with dust covers over the furniture, but instead her accommodations pleasantly surprised her. Not that her host and hostess had purposefully provided her with opulence and comfort; she knew better. But if this bedroom was the least desirable in the palace, aside from the employees' rooms downstairs, she could only imagine what the rest of the rooms looked like. She had caught a glimpse of Bane's suite the night of her capture, and even that limited view had been impressive.
Late afternoon sun streamed through the room's single, large window, which was dressed in white shears with pale golden designs and heavy draperies tied back, also designed with the same gold color, along with rich garnet borders with medallion designs. The red matched the main portion of the patterned carpet, while gold and green designs made up the wide border. The walls were the color of ripe wheat, the high ceiling white, brightened by two lit chandeliers. Ornate, matching oval mirrors hung on the wall to either side of the door; the rest of the wall decorations were pictures of the palace down through the years, as well as more traditional Arabic artwork. Below one mirror was a small table with two chairs of green and gold, across from it a golden settee. The rest of the room was taken up by a king-size bed with an array of garnet and gold pillows to match the gold and white bedclothes. At the foot of the bed was a couch and coffee table, facing the window, while to either side of the bed were matching nightstands, antiques like most everything in the room.
She went to the window. No veranda like so many rooms in the palace. So what the hell was Barsad talking about? Asshole probably just thought he'd scare her. Well, he had a lot to learn, that one.
The view looked out over the compound's formidable wall and the village. She could make out the rooftop of her mother's house far away. Frowning, she hoped her mother was not too anxious about all of this. But she knew better. Once they were reunited, Nyssa was confident she could ease at least some of her mother's fears. Yet, would Talia and Bane really allow them to see each other? They wouldn't want her revealing to her mother the fact that three of the world's most wanted criminals still lived, and if she did, then she would probably be signing her mother's death warrant.
Nyssa got her answer an hour later when her door opened, and there stood her bewildered mother with a guard.
"Nyssa!" She rushed toward her daughter as the guard dropped a medium-sized, cloth bag inside the door and retreated.
Nyssa got up from the bed to embrace her trembling mother.
"I was so worried about you, betee. They have been asking me questions ever since you vanished, but they wouldn't tell me anything except that you were alive." She was crying now, clinging to Nyssa.
"It's okay, Maji." Nyssa pried her mother away. "Don't cry. Here, sit on the couch. You look like you haven't slept in days."
"I haven't. How could I?"
Nyssa found tissues on the nightstand and gave a handful to her mother as they sat together.
"Oh, Nyssa, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" She wiped at her eyes. "Have they hurt you?"
"I'm fine, Maji." She forced a confident smile.
"What do the El Fadils want with you? I told you to stay away from Ra'id. But you wouldn't listen. You never listen to me. Why are they holding you here like a prisoner? There's armed guards outside your door."
"I don't need an armed guard, but they think I do, for some reason."
"What do you mean? You don't want to escape?"
"It's not a matter of escape."
"And why did they have me pack a bag?" Her mother gestured toward the door. "Are we going somewhere?"
"Not just yet."
"Nyssa, tell me what on earth is going on. They said I wouldn't be going back to my home."
"Maji, just hush for a minute, and I'll tell you everything, okay?"
Her mother blew her nose. "This has to do with your father, doesn't it? Oh, why couldn't you let him go, betee, like I did?"
"You've never let him go, Maji. We both know that. You still have his picture in your house."
Her mother stared at the crumpled tissue. "Well…it's a nice picture. It reminds me of when I was young and pretty. When a man wanted me."
"Stop it. Now listen."
"It's Maysam, isn't it? She's mad because you were snooping around about that little boy. I told you—"
"Maji, stop. Will you just let me explain?"
Her mother fidgeted with the tissue, reminding Nyssa of Bane's restless hands. Ol' Twitchy Fingers. That's what her ex-husband had called him during the Gotham siege.
"I'm sorry, betee, but you just don't know what I've been going through since you disappeared."
"I'm sorry I caused you to worry, but if I had warned you ahead of time, you just would've tried to stop me, and we would've had a big fight."
"Stop you from what? What did you do that night?"
"I used Ra'id to get inside the palace. I needed information about that little boy. I needed to know if he's my nephew, if my half-sister is alive."
"Oh, Nyssa—"
"And he is, Maji. And Talia is alive. She's here. I met her."
Finally her mother was speechless, but it lasted only an instant. "Did you inform the authorities?"
"The authorities? Of course not. I need her."
"Need her? For what? You don't know her. You may share the same father, but you are nothing like her. Look what she tried to do to Gotham. You aren't evil like she is."
"No, but I'm ambitious, Maji. I want what my father withheld from me."
"What are you talking about?"
"The League of Shadows. His organization. After he died, Talia assumed the Demon's Head. But, as elder child, the honor should've gone to me. And I mean to claim it now."
"Why would Talia believe you are her sister?"
"I let them test my DNA. They can't deny me."
"They can't deny your paternity, betee, but they can deny your claim by killing you."
"If they were going to do that, I'd be dead already." Nyssa said this more for her mother's peace of mind than because of any true belief that she wouldn't end up dead from one of Barsad's bullets. "The League is an ancient organization with age-old traditions. One of them is the line of succession."
"And what does my daughter know about the League?"
"I learned as much as I could after I found out who my father really was. They're the Holy Grail of organizations in the merc world. They're legendary. Criminal organizations the world over fear them, as do the corrupt everywhere, like politicians and the one percent."
"You admire an organization that attempted to exterminate one of the world's largest cities?"
"Admire? I don't know if I'd go that far, Maji. It's too early for that, and I haven't been given my birthright yet."
Her mother took hold of her hands, turned fully toward her. "You can't be serious about this, Nyssa. Your father hurt you; he hurt both of us. If you think this will punish him, it won't. He's dead, he's dust."
"Don't you see? All my life, I've been nothing. I was discarded trash, roaming the world with no purpose, no authority."
"You are not trash! Don't ever say that. How can you believe such a thing? You are an intelligent, beautiful woman. You are my daughter."
"I'm just another mercenary, Maji. Sure, I'm good at what I do, but I want more. I want to have a purpose. I want to do something. I want to lead. Look at Talia—she's the leader of a powerful organization; she had a mother and a father; now she has Bane and their child, and this beautiful place to live."
"Bane?" Her mother reared back in fear, as if Bane were in the room with them.
"Yes, he and Talia both survived. Henri is their child."
"This is too much, Nyssa. We have to find a way to notify the authorities."
"Even if I wanted to, there's no way either one of us is going to be allowed the freedom to do that, Maji. But if I'm to claim my birthright, I'll need Talia and Bane. A coup isn't going to get me anywhere except dead."
Her mother got up to pace the room. "This is too much. I can't believe you've gotten us into this, all because of your father. Why did I ever sleep with that man?"
"Maji, listen to me. All my life, I've wanted something better for you than this pathetic little village, this place where your life is ruled by fear of the family in this palace. You've been little more than a prisoner here. Once I'm the Demon's Head, you're not going to want for anything or ever need to feel afraid again. I promise."
"All I want is for my daughter to live. What you are doing will get you killed. Do you really think Bane will let you depose Talia? Obviously he worships that woman."
"I think he respects the League just as much, and that means he respects their rules and traditions. And maybe, after all these years, now that he has a child, maybe he wouldn't mind Talia stepping down. Who knows?"
"You can't trust those two, Nyssa."
"I didn't say I do, but I want to see how this plays out. I'll do everything I can to keep you safe, Maji. I promise."
"I'm not worried about me; I'm worried about my only child." She stopped near the window and looked toward her home, arms wrapped around her as if for warmth.
Nyssa went to her, put an arm around her. Her mother rested her head against Nyssa's shoulder, tears trailing down her cheeks.
"I just want to go home, betee. Both of us. It is no palace, true, but it's our home. How can we ever get back there now?"
"We probably can't; I'll be honest. But that doesn't mean what's ahead isn't going to be a positive change. You have to look at it that way."
"I'm behind a locked door, guarded by armed thugs led by a mass murderer. It's difficult to look at our future as anything guaranteed, Nyssa."
###
"Now, Henri Temujin," Talia said just outside the infirmary door, crouched in front of her son. "Remember what Papa Baba and I told you—you must be quiet and still when we go inside. And you must not pester Sanjana. She and the baby need quiet and rest. Okay?"
"I be good, Mama."
"If you are not," Bane warned, "I will take you out straight away, and you will not be able to see the baby until tomorrow."
"Papa Baba," Henri said forcefully, as if insulted by their doubts. Then he enunciated each word succinctly: "I be good."
"Very well." Bane picked him up then nodded to Talia, who opened the door. As they stepped into the shadowy room, he murmured into his son's ear, "Remember, speak quietly, little cub."
Henri made an annoyed sound.
"Hey," Barsad called softly from a chair between the bed and the incubator. He held a tiny bundle in his arms. Pride and happiness had erased the thick veil of anxiety he had worn when Bane had last seen him. "Perfect timing. He just now woke up from a nap."
Sanjana looked surprisingly radiant. "Come see our son."
"Baby, Papa Baba," Henri whispered, pointing.
"Indeed, Jin. Uncle John's little boy. His name is James."
"James," Henri said in awe. "He my brother?"
"Well…in a way."
The three crept over to peek at the little face revealed amidst the swaddling.
"He's beautiful, Sanjana," Talia said with a warm smile, bringing back to Bane the full memory of his own son's birth and Talia's surprising happiness afterwards when she held Henri.
"What that?" Henri pointed to the oxygen tubing going into the baby's nose.
"That's to help James breathe," Bane said. "He was born a little earlier than expected, so for now he needs help breathing."
"Like Papa Baba used to?" Henri put his hands over Bane's mouth and nose to mimic the old mask.
"Something like that," Bane chuckled.
"James needs help staying warm, too," Barsad said to Henri. "That's why we can't hold him long. He needs to be in the incubator." He nodded to the equipment.
"Would you like to hold him, Talia?" Sanjana asked.
Talia grinned. "I don't think I can pry him from his father."
Barsad blushed. "Sure, you can. Here, take my seat and I'll hand him to you."
"Put down, Papa Baba." Henri squirmed.
"Wait for your mother to sit."
Once Talia settled and took the infant, Bane set Henri down but held onto one hand in case the boy attempted to maul the baby in his enthusiasm.
"Remember, my cub, whisper."
It pleased Bane to see how thrilled Talia looked holding James. It gave him hope that perhaps she would one day soon agree to give him another child. He longed for a little girl, even more now that Sanjana had given birth to a boy.
Henri stood on tiptoe to better see James, his other hand on his mother's knee for balance. "Mama, where's his hair?"
The adults softly laughed.
"It'll grow," Talia said. "But he has a little—see?" She tenderly brushed James's dark tuft with one finger.
Henri jigged a little. "I hold him, Mama."
"Not yet, sweetie. We have to wait a little bit until you can hold him. He's very fragile right now. He's wiggly, and you might drop him."
"No, Mama. I hold."
Bane scooped Henri up to break his focus in case the boy was contemplating having a fit. "You heard your mother, Jin."
"But—"
"No buts. Remember what I said before we came in here."
Barsad chuckled. "Don't worry, squirt. You'll have years of little Jimmy. You'll be sick of him in no time."
"Nuh-uh," Henri said.
"Just wait. You'll see. I get sick of Bane, and he gets sick of me, right?"
Henri giggled.
Talia asked of Sanjana's health, and the two women quietly talked as the men did the same. They kept it short, however, before Bane suggested they leave.
"Is it okay if Abrams and Yemi visit?" Talia asked. "They won't stay long."
Barsad looked hopefully at Sanjana, who nodded and said, "Of course."
Henri whimpered. "Wanna hold baby."
"I tell you what, kid," Barsad said as he carefully reclaimed his son from Talia. "You can give him a kiss on the cheek. How's that?"
Henri's face lit up. "Okay, Unca John. I kiss."
"Gently," Talia said.
Barsad brought the baby close. James's glistening eyes seemed to study Henri. The baby made tiny grunts.
"Bye bye, baby," Henri said, then leaned away from his father to kiss James's fleshy cheek. The baby squirmed as if in delight and made a funny face. Henri's ensuing laugh, however, startled James.
As the infant started to fuss, Bane hastily said, "We must go now, little cub."
"Don't cry, baby," Henri said.
"It's okay, little man," Barsad said to Henri, gently bouncing James. "The world just seems a bit loud to him. He's been in his mama's belly a long time."
"Bye bye, Sanji," Henri said with a wave.
"Bye, sweetheart. Come back and see us later."
"I will!"