Harvest of Gold (17 page)

For a moment Sarah considered telling Nehemiah her news and asking for his prayers and guidance regarding Darius. Then she realized that she could not share her secret with her cousin before letting her own husband know. How hurt Darius would be upon finding out.

When they had been on the road for twelve days, Darius returned with the setting sun. He came to see Sarah before reporting to Nehemiah or his men. She had had no chance to ask him a single question when he took her into his arms and held her, his hands encircling her waist.

She noted the dark circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin when she stepped away from him. But he was not wearing mourning attire, and his expression, though weary, was devoid of grief.

“He is well?” Her voice sounded like the squeak of an excited child.

Darius broke into a smile. “He is past danger and expected to make a full recovery. When I arrived, he had been in a deep sleep for three days and nights. The physicians who tended him said he would die within hours.” Darius rubbed his forehead as if the memory pained him. “He refused to die. He has never been fond of physicians, and I’m certain he did not wish to oblige them.”

Sarah chuckled. “He was asleep when you arrived, then?”

“Yes. At first I sat by his side in silence.” He said nothing for a few moments. Sarah wondered how hard it must have been for him, listening to the labored breathing of his father, thinking whether each breath might be his last. Wondering if he would never hear the sound of his father’s voice again.

Darius closed his eyes for a moment as if the memory pained him. “In desperation, I began to speak to him, though I believed he could not hear me. There were so many things I wished to tell him.”

Sarah longed to ask him what he had said to his father. She knew better than to ask, and held him instead, physical touch her only means of increasing their intimacy. He would reveal what he wished, and she had to be content with that.

“After a few hours of tiring both of us with my chatter, I told him that I did not want him to die.”

Sarah leaned into Darius and tightened her hold on him for a moment. He rested there as though her arms were the sanctuary he had sought and missed for long days.

“What happened then?” she prompted.

“Then I fell off the bed.”

“You did not!”

“I assure you I did. For with a loud and firm voice my father replied, ‘I have no plans for dying, my son.’”

A bubble of laughter escaped Sarah’s lips. “That’s extraordinary! I would have fallen off the bed, also.”

Darius grinned. “He woke up with a vengeance after that, demanding food and fresh clothes and a report from his post. It was no easy task convincing him to rest.”

Sarah sighed with relief. “I was so worried.”

“The physicians said his recovery was no less than a miracle. I stayed with him until I felt assured that the danger had passed.”

“Have you had any sleep?

“Not much. I rode through most of the night to catch up with you.”

“You must have ridden faster than a hurricane since you left Susa.”

He stretched. “I am weary. But I must receive reports from my men and your cousin first.”

“I have something to tell you, Darius.”

“Tell me tomorrow. I don’t think I could take anything in tonight. My mind is numb with exhaustion. I am for bed as soon as I have finished my rounds.”

Sarah nodded and gave him another embrace. She would rather have him fresh and in good humor when she told him her news.

The persistent throbbing in her back awakened Sarah from a sound sleep. Once again, the convoy had managed to ride past the staging house and stopped for the night by the side of the road, which meant that she had slept in her cart rather than in a comfortable inn with a tolerable bed. The sun would not rise for some time yet, and the camp rested in silence. She turned to the right and then to the left, trying to find relief. The ache followed no matter how she positioned her body. Pari had told her that lower back pain was a common complaint during later pregnancy; she must have started earlier than usual. She felt the bite of nausea, sharper than usual, and reached for the stale bread Pari left by her bedside every night. While she no longer grew sick with the same violence of her early pregnancy, she had never entirely outgrown the discomfort of a bilious stomach.

The ache lingered, and after over an hour of tossing and turning, Sarah decided to stretch her legs and walk a little, hoping to find relief. By the time she left the cart, a greyish dawn had begun to cast soft shadows over the landscape. She leaned against the cart’s wooden side, letting her body adjust to being upright before beginning a slow walk.

Without warning, a severe cramp slashed through her belly with such force that Sarah doubled over. Her breathing became ragged from the force of it. Fear mingled with pain. This did not feel normal. She placed a protective hand over her belly, trying to calm the alarm that raced through her mind.

After a few moments, the cramp loosened its grip and Sarah was able to straighten. She walked back to her cart and whispered Pari’s name. A light sleeper, her friend was by her side in a moment.

“What’s wrong, my lady?”

Sarah gripped Pari’s hand. “It’s past now, so hopefully it is nothing. But I had a heavy cramp seize me a few moments ago. And my back has been aching for several hours.”

Pari jumped down to stand by her side. “Let’s take you back inside where you can lie down.”

“No. The walls close in on me. Let me stay here.”

Pari continued to hold her hand. The sun was rising in the east, its pace lazy. In the pale light Sarah could see Pari’s face pinched with worry. She gave her a reassuring smile. The smile widened as she saw Darius striding toward them. Pari, also noting his approach, said she would go to fetch water, though Sarah knew she wished to give them privacy.

“I thought I would have to wake you,” he said. “You’re up early.”

“You are visiting early.”

He tangled his hands into her hair and drew her close. “I missed you.”

“And I …” The words she intended to speak were forgotten as another knife-sharp cramp invaded her belly. She closed her mouth on the groan that rose up from her depths. Her breath came out in short puffs of air. Grasping Darius’s arm for support she bent over, doubling in on herself.

O Lord, have mercy on me. Have mercy on my baby
.

“Sarah? Sarah, where do you hurt?” Peripherally, she noted that Darius’s voice exuded calm.

She could not think of anything to say. She had yet to inform him of her pregnancy; was she now to tell him that she feared she was losing the babe he did not know she had conceived? She shook her head and clutched at him harder as the pain made her forget everything else.

He picked her up and carried her into the cart and laid her down on her mattress. The interior of the cart remained enveloped in shadows; he turned to light a lamp. The pain ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and Sarah forced herself to sit up.

“I’m all right now.” She sounded weak and shaky to her own ears.

Darius turned back to face her, holding the lamp in one hand. He looked frozen. “I am going to fetch Lysander,” he said.

“I don’t think it’s necessary. The pain is gone.”

“It’s necessary.” He held out his hand. It was scarlet. “You are bleeding.”

Sarah sucked in her breath. For the first time she became aware of the sticky feeling between her legs. She looked down and saw that her shoes were stained with blood. Denial was no longer an option. It dawned on her that her baby was dying. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in the pillow, hoping to drown the wail that was rising, rising from the depth of her being. Darius lifted her into his arms and cradled her. “I must fetch Lysander, sweetheart. I’ll return quickly.”

Pari came to her side moments later.

“My baby,” Sarah said, her voice broken. “My baby.”

Pari’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.” She sponged the blood from her skin and changed her into fresh garments. With soothing movements, she began to rub Sarah’s back. Another wave of contractions overtook her, not as intense as before, but painful enough to make her retch.

Lysander and Darius appeared at the foot of the cart. “May I come in, my lady?” Lysander asked.

She nodded, beyond words. Darius tried to follow, but Lysander held up a hand. “Give me a few moments alone with your wife, Darius. Her maid can remain.”

“I want to be by her side.”

“I understand. And you will be. But first, I need to examine her in private.”

Darius gave a curt nod. “Don’t take long.”

Lysander’s examination was thorough. Sarah’s misery overrode her embarrassment.

“You are losing a babe,” he said, not trying to cushion the news.

“Can you save him?”

He shook his head. “He was not meant to be. Nothing would have saved him. Now we must make certain that you do not hemorrhage and your flesh does not fester. If you take good care, there is no reason you should not conceive again and give birth to a healthy baby. Many women have miscarriages and recover fully to have a brood of children.”

Tears soaked Sarah’s cheeks. “He is the one I want. I love him so much.”

“My lady, am I right in assuming that your husband does not know?”

“Yes. I ought to have told him before coming. I tried several times since. We were always interrupted. I intended to tell him today. Now, it’s too late.”

“It will be hard on him. I’ll call him in now. Shall I tell him the news, or do you want to do it yourself?”

“Since I never told him that we had conceived a child, I should at least be the one to inform him that his child has died.”

Darius leapt into the cart as soon as Lysander opened the heavy curtains. He rushed to Sarah’s side and sat near her, careful not to cause her discomfort. “What is wrong with her?” he asked Lysander without taking his gaze off Sarah. With heartrending tenderness, he stroked the damp hair off her face. “You’ll be well.”

“Darius.” Sarah bit her lip, unsure how to go on. “My lord, forgive me. I have lost our baby.”

An impassive mask dropped over the perfect features. She knew that trick. Whenever his emotions erupted, he hid them with the dexterity of a magician with his staff. “You were with child?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Is she going to be all right?” He turned to Lysander. “There was a lot of blood.” In the dispassionate voice, Sarah thought she detected a thread of fear. She reached for his hand, desperate for his comfort. Desperate to give him comfort.

Lysander said, “With good care, she will recover quickly. I am confident she will conceive again, Darius.”

“Was it the travel?”

“I doubt it. I have known women engaged in more vigorous activity during pregnancy who carried their babies to term without difficulty, as well as women who avoided all strenuous exertion and miscarried, nonetheless.”

“But you don’t know for certain?”

Lysander pushed his hand through his flaxen hair. “No. Not for certain. No one really knows why these things happen. I think the body recognizes the existence of a problem, and expels the baby.”

Darius said nothing. His eyes, heavy-lidded and red, betrayed a weight of sorrow he could not hide entirely. He lingered by Sarah’s side, his hand in hers, keeping quiet vigil until she fell asleep.

She did not slumber for long. Darius was still there when she woke up. “How do you feel?”

Still groggy from sleep, Sarah tried to gauge his mood and failed. “Better.”

He leaned away from her. “I need to ask you a question, Sarah. Will you tell me the truth?”

“Yes.” She knew what he was about to ask. She knew that telling him the truth would drive him away from her. But she also knew that she could not lie. It was bad enough that she had hidden the truth from him. She would not make matters worse by trying to cover her offense with more lies.

His voice sounded brittle and hoarse. “Did you know you were pregnant when we embarked on this journey?”

Sarah’s mouth turned dry. “Yes, my lord. I knew.”

Darius rose to his feet, his movements awkward, as if he could not access the innate physical grace that marked his usual bearing. Without a word, he left.