Dragon Haven
“I’m not…a whore,” Jerd retorted indignantly.
“No, you’re not,” Bellin returned placidly. She dumped the handful of used rags into a bucket and took up a fresh one. “A whore has the sense to get something for what she gives—money or presents. Something she can use to take care of herself. You just gave it away, girl. That’s fine if you want to shove a wax stopper up there so you don’t conceive. Then it’s just yourself you’re risking, when you get the ooze or the scabs. But right now, you’re risking not just yourself but some poor little baby who might drop down in the middle of this. And that means you’re risking us, too. You die popping out a baby, who has to find something for it to eat? Who has to stop her life to wipe its ass and pack it around on the deck? Who has to watch it dwindle and die and then put it over the side for a dragon to eat? Most likely me, that’s who. And I’m telling you right now, you aren’t going to do that to me. You have a baby and live, well, it still falls on us to find food for you and the child. Just pregnant, you haven’t been pulling your share of the load. You get a baby on your own, you become a weight on the rest of us. Something like that falls on me, it’s going to be Swarge’s child, not yours. He gives me a baby, well, I know that he and I both will give the last breath of our bodies to make sure it lives. So, I’m letting you know, every one of you here with no partner willing to stand up and admit he’s your partner: keep your legs together. If anyone catches a baby in her belly on this ship, it’s going to be me. Or Alise there. We got the men to back us up. You don’t.”
Alise looked so shocked at Bellin’s words that Thymara wondered if the Bingtown woman had ever considered that she might get pregnant.
“She wouldn’t have lived, even if you had carried her to term. Look at her, if you want. No legs. Just a partial tail, like a serpent.”
Jerd was silent and white-faced, staring up at her.
“I…no. No, I don’t.” Jerd began to weep noisily.
Bellin looked at her for a moment. Then she gave her head a short shake. “You’ll be fine. Lie there until the afterbirth comes out, and I’ll stay here with you. Skelly. Take the child. You’ve helped me before. You know what has to be done.”
Bellin’s eyes slid to Thymara and Sylve. Somehow, she had taken Sylve’s hand and was clutching it tightly. Sylve’s grip was as tight as her own. She felt six years old as the older woman pierced her with a stare. “You two help Skelly. And you think about what I said. And know this. If I catch you opening your legs to a boy on this ship, keeper or crew, it’s going to hurt. And humiliate. Because that’s a lot better than what we just had to go through here today.”
Thymara bobbed a small stiff nod. Skelly edged past them in the crowded bunk room floor space. They followed her out into the open air. As they came out on the deck, they formed a small procession. Skelly went first, bearing the tiny wrapped bundle. They passed Hennesey and Eider. The mate shook his head sadly, and Big Eider looked aside. As they approached the stern, a cluster of keeper boys rose and evaporated, scattering throughout the ship. No one spoke to them or asked them what they were about, but Thymara was sure that every one of them knew, and she wondered how many of them thought they might have fathered the child. Or had that thought left their minds when Greft had stepped in to say he’d be responsible?