Know Who to Count On

Prologue: Death Begets Life

 "Push M'lady!" The midwife knelt between the countess' legs watching for the baby's head, becoming more concerned as it failed to show. The countess, her body quivering from the effort, screamed as she strained with all her might. She had been at this for hours and the baby still wasn't coming out. There were talks that if something didn't give soon, both the baby and the mother might die.

The countess fell back on the pillows propped up behind her, her body covered in sweat from her exertions. Her normally beautiful brown hair said to be tinted with a sheen of bronze, looked nearly black as it lay plastered to her head and neck. Her green eyes begged the alchemist as she sobbed, the pain becoming more than she could bear. "Please," she cried, "I need more tonic. I can't–I can't keep going like this!"

The alchemist at her side exchanged a glance with the midwife. "M'lady, that would not be wise. We've already given you twice what is normally allowed." The countess lashed out with her hand and managed to grab the front of his robes.

"You give me more now or you might as well stab me and cut the baby out!" She fell back again, closing her eyes for a moment to await the next contraction. The man gulped and readied another pain killing tonic and brought the vial to her lips. Countess Melanie sucked down the potion greedily and almost immediately began screaming as the next contraction hit.

"Where is the bloody healer?" The midwife said through gritted teeth.

The alchemist shook his head. "They are having trouble tracking him down, last I heard. Bastard's probably drunk."

For two more hours the trio struggled on until a leg showed. "Shit, the baby's breech, no wonder it's taking so long," the midwife swore and wetted her hands. "Maybe if I can get the other leg we can get the baby out now." The door behind them burst open nearly causing the midwife to fall over as she was reaching for the baby's leg. She turned, ready to give the intruder a tongue lashing when she saw who had just barged into the room. "My Lord," she said to the count, shocked to see him here. He hadn't attended a single birth after the first and generally showed no interest in the children after the second.

Count Halstein the II of Hillbranch was an imposing man, not as much from his height but from his width. He had been a beast of a man in his youth, broad shouldered and stacked with muscle. He was said to have sent many an enemy running just from the sight of him wielding a great-ax with ease, but the years had not been so kind to him. He was well into his forties now and long since left battlefields behind him. With that loss of routine his figure had suffered and gone soft, his rich black hair turned gray, but he still carried a commanding presence.

The count went to his wife's side and looked down at the woman, her exhaustion apparent as she struggled to breathe. "What's the meaning of this? What's taking so long?" He glanced around and seemed to realize the primary issue. "Where's the healer?" At that moment the young healer himself burst through the door and stumbled into the room. The countess started screaming as another contraction began and the healer had no chance to gather his wits as the count grabbed him by the arm and hauled him physically over to the bedside.

The midwife could hear the count yelling at the healer, something that likely wasn't going to help the man work, and instead she focused on her job. She managed to work her hand in enough to feel the other leg and pulled it down which allowed more of the baby's body to follow. The head was still stuck, but the midwife could see what sex the baby was.

"Another girl, M'Lady," she said, hoping the count wouldn't mind that she was addressing his wife instead of him at this moment.

The countess sagged back in the bed, her eyes closed as she tried to recover. The healer had his hands held out over her but it was uncertain if he was having any success in healing the massive amounts of internal trauma that had inevitably incurred during the process.