The Sheik and the Slave

"Thank you, I'm fine. I don't feel well. It must have been something I ate," Katharine told her as she settled back into the cushions.

It was only as she was falling asleep that she remembered she hadn't had anything at all to eat.

Quickly, Katharine began to dream again.

The pain ripped through her and she screamed into the room.

"That's it, little one, don't fight it," Bashasha cooed to Katharine as the spasms racked her body.

"It hurts so much," Katharine screamed as the pain tore through her body again.

Bashasha dabbed her forehead with a cool wet cloth, which helped soothe her.

"It's almost over, little one," she said.

Katharine could feel the spasm leave and she panted like a dog.

"Please, it hurts too much," she cried in exhaustion. "I can't take it."

"Of course you can, little one, it's almost over," Bashasha told her. "This is what women must do."

Kat could hear people around here scurrying to do Bashasha's bidding as she asked for more clean linen and water.

"And tell my lord Mohammed that it is almost over," Bashasha murmured to one girl.

Katharine felt another spasm of pain ripple through her body and cried out, even as Bashasha yelped in delight.

"I see the head!" she exclaimed.

Bashasha knelt between Katharine's cream-colored legs to inspect the new babe entering the world.

"I see the head, I see the head," she cried. "Push, little one. Push hard."

Katharine gritted her teeth and pushed her firstborn child out into the world. The small baby slipped out of her womb, followed by another push in which the afterbirth fell out. The cord was cut and the baby was cleaned off.

"Oh little one," Bashasha cried with happiness. "A son."

Katharine rested upon the cushions as Mohammed came inside the room.

"A son, my lord," Bashasha told him, smiling. "A son."

People were crowding into the room to look at the next Sheik of Arabia. He was small, but had no marks on him whatsoever. He was the color of honey, with dark locks and startling blue eyes.

"Princess," he leaned forward to kiss Katharine on the forehead. "Thank you. He's perfect."

Katharine tried to respond to him but couldn't. The voices around her receded as she struggled to keep them coherent. She focused on Mohammed, but suddenly the room began to grow darker and darker. She could feel herself floating away and knew she was dying. She could feel the tears behind her eyes and she tried to speak.

Only two words escaped her lips before she died:

"My son."

***

When she awoke, she was alone in the stagecoach. She looked outside the window and saw that they were stopped outside an inn. The rest of the party was inside taking refreshments.

She started to leave the stagecoach, but her stomach swam again.

"Oh," she said as she settled back. This is not a good start to France, she thought.