Voices of Humanity

Chapter Thirteen

*Alice was pretty upset with Dreda last chapter. Upset or not though, Dreda controls Mary for the time being. Let's see how that played out...

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My weeks of separation from Mary were agony. In my dreams each night I saw the young children we'd carried to the cages. I saw visions of their cherubic faces contorted in fear and pain, their blood pouring from slit throats as their cries of agony rang out, their little bodies roasting on a spit. I woke from these nightmares screaming my child's name, quickly muffling my tears least others report me for the disturbance of their own slumber.

    In my waking hours, my thoughts were feverishly turned to Mary. Would Dreda make her suffer to spite me and my disgust with her role in helping supply our Master's gruesome trade? Mary as just a baby. Not even one year of age. Dulane favored her already. He wanted her to grow, another copy of his beloved Mariana. Surely Dreda did not have the power to override the orders of our Master? And yet, I couldn't help but be struck by Garen's attentiveness to Dreda's suggestions. Her trust of the older human. Dreda had even been able to influence my own overseer and Madam was not one to listen to humans. I was terrified to imagine the ramifications of having acquired such a deadly enemy.
   
It was nearly a month before I was allowed to go to my child, and even then, only for a short visit during the middle of the day. Dreda did not come to greet me when the visitation was finally permitted. After having been declared "free of illness" by a doctor who visited the estate periodically check on members of the flock, it was Clara who lead me to Dreda's room. When I was told that the nursery head was busy with other chores and could not be present I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. I had no words for the woman who had taken my daughter from me. Who had put my very life at risk in raising questions about my health. But my thoughts of anger, resentment, and anxiety were wiped from my mind the moment I took the child in my arms.
   
Already so much bigger than when I'd last held her, Mary was every bit as beautiful as I remembered. The delicate features, the small fingers that reached out to me, claiming me as her own mother, her lips smiling wide as babbles escaped them.

    "She has begun to take some solid foods," Clara informed me. "Miss Dreada said she will still suckle though. After that, we can try to give her some porridge."

    I nodded as I sat in the rocker and offered Mary my nipple. Relief filled me as I felt her mouth latch to my breast, all the tension and worry of our separation melting from my body, as her lips moved against my skin.
   
Cradling her form in my arms I marveled at the girl's perfection, grateful that I had been reunited with my child before any ill could befall her, determined to never allow her to be taken from me again. If Dreda had started Mary on solid foods, there was a chance I could take her from the nursery sooner than I'd hoped. Already I could see that she was sitting up with greater ease, her little hands grasping at my clothes with determination. I wondered what I might do to speed her growth so she might be returned to me. I was at least grateful she was getting proper sustenance though she was feeding on less milk without my frequent visits.
   
My trips to the nursery continued at midday every day from that point on and, after the same excuse for Dreda's absence was given continually for two weeks in a row, I understood that the woman has no interest in speaking with me. I could only assume my assessment had been right. She knew I held nothing but disdain for her actions. I was not sorry for it.

    Dreda had given me a precious gift in granting me access to my daughter and then ripped it away. She'd forced me to be party to the acts of a greyskin and taint myself in a way I'd never agreed to. Though my baby girl seemed unharmed and well cared for, my resentment of the woman was no lessened. But what I hated most was my helplessness. As long as Mary was too young for the main dorms, she was at the mercy of the nursery head. I could not afford to offend Dreda nor take any action against her. But in avoidance of her presence, there was little risk of that and I was grateful she had at least granted me space.
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As time passed, my new routine became more tolerable. After morning chores I would be granted my rations and given leave to go to my daughter for two hours, leaving me only one full hour with my child before I would be forced to hurry back towards the kitchens. I dared not complain nor ask for more. I could do nothing but pray the time would pass quickly. Mary was developing well and with each visit, I was relieved to see the care she was clearly being given. As she learned to sit up on her own and even utter recognizable sounds that threatened to become words, I worked to keep up my spirits. Once my girl was grown enough to live in the main dorms she would be mine forever and I could leave the world of doomed children and forget Dreda altogether.
   
I tried to make the best of my situation. By now, all expected my presence in the nursery daily and I knew my way to Dreda's quarters. I could come and go in my allotted time with no escort and had no intention of dallying elsewhere in the facility. Even Clara knew my routine and made an effort to offer me privacy, leaving me alone to I feed and play with my little girl undisturbed. Still, even as Mary's first birthday approached the wait felt endless.