In this chapter Drustina is delivered of her babies and troubles with the Bishop start to come to a head.

The Angry Mermaid 22.

Or

Y Morforwyn Dicllon 22.

Mabina. The youngest daughter and Twin to
Drustan Her twin brother.
Grandpa Erin the twins grandfather.
Giana The twins grandmother
Caderyn The twins father.
Herenoie The twins wise and beautiful mother.
Morgaran The Twins oldest brother.
Aiofe The twins oldest sister. Famous for her beauty.
Tara The twins second oldest sister. Famous for her grace.
Feidlim Twins aunt (Caderyns’ beautiful sister.)
Mogantu Twins uncle (Married to Feidlim.) Chief of the Gangani tribe.
Brun. Twins 2nd cousin and the Acaman clans’ blacksmith.
Feorin. Twins second brother. Also training to be a blacksmith.
Rhun Feidlims’ son and Feorins’ favourite 1st Cousin. (Both red-heads.)
Arina Child of a Demetae fisherman, (rescued by Aiofe, Drustan and Mabina.)
Penderol Dumnonii Minor chief.
Udris Young Dumnonii warrior.
Dryslwyn High chief of the whole Celtic nation. Dwells in Brithony.
Bronlwyn Dryslwyn’s wife (and queen.)
Magab The moor who taught numbers.
Eric Saxon galley slave rescued from Corsair pirates.
Carl Another Saxon galley slave rescued by Drustan.
Torvel Celtic galley slave rescued from the same captured corsair ship
Arton. Turdetani Chieftain Holder of Gibral Rock.
Carinia Arton’s wife.
Isobel. Arton’s adopted daughter.
Appotel King of the Turdetani Tribe. (Southern Iberia.)
Bramana Queen. (Wife of Appotel)
Pilus King of the Capetani.
Shaleen Pilus’s queen and sister to Bramana.
Pedoro Lord Marshal of the Southern border region.
Lady Shulaar Lord Pedoro’s wife.
Taan. The scullery maid.
Isaar. Pedoro’s oldest son.
Ferdie Pedoro’s 2nd son
Sular Pedoro’s 3rd son
Gontala Pedoro’s youngest son.
Shenoa Pedoro’s only daughter.
Portega. Tyrant King to the west.
Portua. Portega’s grandson.
Jubail. Old Fisherman.
Mutas Magab’s younger brother and usurper.
Walezia King of Malta.
Alviar Megalomaniacal Bishop of Carthage. (Hates Drustina.)
Ethelia Female healer who treats Drustina during her pregnancy.
Seripatese Drustina’s faithful horse.

The clamour in the camp alerted both Drustina and Torvel as Carl called from outside their tent.

“There’s movement from the fortified city, come quickly!”

Torvel was up immediately and struggling into his britches. Drustina needed to lie abed at least until the wretched vomiting had ceased. She knew it would come, shortly after rising. Torvel called through the heavy material to Carl.

“What’s happening?”

“There is an emissary from the gates. Mutas seems to want to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about surely, he murdered his own father,” Torvel charged.

“Apparently Magab is agreeable to talk, if only to save more bloodshed. There are women and children starving in the city.”

“And I suppose the tyrant still feeds well while the people go hungry. Tell him to come out and fight. Fight like a man and prove his suitability to rule,” Drustina shouted back as the first wretched convulsion heaved through her stomach.
Torvel turned to her and cautioned her.

“Take care darling. Mutas is a skilled warrior. Magab has confessed to me that Mutas would better him in single combat. The problem is Mutas is exactly like Portega was; a cruel tyrant!”

“Alright then tell him to let the women and children come out. He is only holding them hostage because he knows Magab is too soft, too compassionate. You heard it yourself, Magab wants to avoid bloodshed.”
Torvel frowned.

“Don’t we all Drustina? Would you like it if you and your child was starving behind those gates?”

“I’d find some way out.”

“You might have done in the past but soon you will have a child to think about, a life to protect and nurture until he can fend for himself. Besides, in your present state with that lump in your belly, would you be active enough to escape?”
Drustina fell silent. The ‘bump’ was beginning to hamper her freedom. Only the other morning she had casually jumped up to mount her beloved Seripatese and found the ‘bump’ had foiled her leap. She had fetched up heavily against Seripatese’s flank but the faithful mare had simply absorbed her failed leap and turned her head to nuzzle the winded Drustina’s swollen belly.

Fortunately nobody had seen the comedy act and Drustina’s dignity remained intact as she gently recovered her wind and instructed her equine companion to kneel while she slid a leg over and the little mare gently rose to her feet. Despite Torvel’s caution Drustina refused to be inconvenienced by her ‘bump’ - well not yet anyway.

“I’m not a bloody invalid yet partner. I’ll let you know when I’m too fat to fight.”

Torvel had learned Aiofe’s lesson when dealing with Drustina - don’t even try to use argument as persuasion. He frowned and slipped outside the tent while Drustina resumed heaving into the now seemingly permanent bedside bowl. Torvel was sat around the breakfast, council fire discussing Mutas’s terms when she finally appeared at his side. She had the grace and sense to listen as she piled the food onto her plate.

Eric studied the pile and smiled.

“Eating for two now my lady!”

Drustina blushed and smiled; an act that caused all the men’s hearts to soften. A year ago a remark like that might have brought the wild boy’s sword to your throat if he had taken it as a criticism of his diet. Now the maid simply smiled and nodded as she ate deep of the communal pot.

As she chewed silently, Magab explained the terms.

“He wants safe passage to a country that will offer him refuge and he wants monies enough to keep him as a prince should be kept once he arrives there.”

“Huh. What country will have him?” Carl demanded.

Magab turned to answer.

“There are many princelings and princedoms now the Roman rule has faltered. He has probably had a bolt hole in mind ever since he murdered our father.”

“I say make him let the women and children go free then he can face us in honest battle,” the Templar Commander suggested.

“He holds them hostage sir. I’ll not see my own subjects starved to death just to satisfy our rightful blood-lust. There are over a thousand of them behind those walls.”

“Shall we take a vote on it?” Torvel asked, for the talks had virtually reached an impasse.

A vote seemed to be the general consensus and to demonstrate the openness and honesty of the council, each leader cast his vote openly. The count ended as a draw, four for letting Mutas flee and four against. Magab sighed.

“We are no further forward.”

At this Drustina spoke up.

“One moment gentlemen, am I to be denied my vote? Did I not partake in this war like you all?”

There was a confused murmuring. Eric, Torvel, Carl and Magab had voted to let the butcher go. They had seen enough bloodshed and fighting to last them a lifetime. The Templar Commander, King Walezia, the Carthaginian Guerrilla leader and the Carthaginian Master of Horse had voted to maintain the siege. Drustina was surprised that King Walezia had voted to continue the fight, she had put him down for a much more compassionate man. She decided to ask him later when he was less preoccupied with the council. More immediately, she realised she had another fight on her hands, persuading the men that she had a right to cast a vote.

She stood up and looked around the council, her expression daring any to challenge her right. Fortunately she had her sword around her for she rarely attended men’s meetings without it. It was almost her badge of office - proof positive of her right to sit in the council by dint of her achievements in battle. At least none could deny her that! She waited for the slightest murmur of dissent but none came so she boldly announced.

“I Drustina, Slayer of the Viking Jarl Blue Face, defeater of the King Portega and bester of the Admiral Ibn Bin Saar will cast my vote amongst you.”

She paused then added thoughtfully.

“This might be my last vote amongst men for some time for as you can all see, I am heavy with child, Torvel’s child! I will be unable to join with you before very long, already I am clumsy so I will make this my last vote until I am qualified to come among you again in combat.”

She pulled out her now famous sword and held it blade flat across her outstretched arms for effect.

“I, Drustina, vote to let the tyrant go. I do this because I am to be a mother soon, no longer a maid thanks to this man.” She flipped her hand dismissively towards Torvel who grinned as she continued. “I now know what effort is put in by a mother to bring forth life and I will know yet more before the course is run. I admit I am afraid for you all know of my duality and I may well die in childbirth if my woman parts are incomplete and do not permit. If I am to die, then Aiofe is to rear my child, her blood. I vote to let the tyrant go so that all those other mothers who have put so much into bearing their children will at least know that Drustina made it safe for them as it has never been safe for me. Safe to leave and safe to live. That’s my final word. I vote the tyrant goes into exile.”

There was general hubbub of discussion before Walezia took it upon himself to declare the council decided.

“It is decided then gentlemen, and lady - the tyrant is allowed to leave. How many monies is he to take, steal, and thieve from the country?”

“Let me decide that please gentlemen,” Magab pleaded. “It is my country he steals from and my work to put everything right after this mess is over.”

The rest of the council were secretly glad to be absolved of the second responsibility for most were minded to give the tyrant nothing. He was lucky to escape with his life.

That morning’s session of The Council of Carthage was over thanks to a woman’s compassion.

The decision was relayed to Mutas and at noon his banner was struck from the battlements. It was a sign he had agreed to the terms.

The mood in Magab and Walezia’s camp was mixed. All were relieved the fighting was over though most would have preferred to see Mutas punished. These were mainly Carthaginians who had suffered inordinately at Mutas’ hand when friends and relations had been killed by various criminal acts. The Templar Knights, who had seen good and loyal comrades killed in the heavy fighting around the palisades, would also have preferred him punished. By comparison the guerrillas had suffered fairly lightly.

As to Drustina’s situation she wasn’t certain if the men’s feelings towards her were favourable or otherwise. On the one hand they had all seen her exploits during the battles and nobody could question her bravery and leadership. However those who had lost much tended to condemn her for allowing Mutas to escape the consequences of his criminality. In their eyes the maid had been too womanly in her compassion when casting the deciding vote. The usual flash of smiles when she went amongst the men was now tempered with the occasional frown of discontent. Some of the men felt they had paid too high a price to allow Mutas to get off. Drustina sensed that many of the men were against her for being a woman and extending compassion to Mutas’ worthless hide. This new mood of censure towards Drustina was also a consequence of the new Christian teachings that tended to demean women and set men above their partners in life. Sensing the changing mood, Drustina tended to spend more time in her new apartments in the palace that Magab had allotted to her until she decided what she intended to do.

For the time being however, Drustina simply wanted to have her baby and leave a place whose Christian mores were anathema to her. There was no way she would ever accept a lesser status to men, especially men she knew she could easily best with the sword.
While Drustina brooded, the rest of the victors were celebrating their fortunes and preparing for the forthcoming coronation. Magab and Aiofe had chosen such a time to give the citizenry time to recover from the usurper’s predations. Also there was a mood of euphoria abroad as people gave thanks for the defeat of the butcher Mutas. Even Torvel seemed to be swept up in the joy of victory. Mutas had been exiled and preparations for the combined ceremony of wedding and coronation of Aiofe and Magab were well advanced. As the day approached, a heavily pregnant Drustina finally emerged from her chambers and approached her sister reproachfully.

“I thought that I, your only blood relation, would have been invited to have some part in this celebration; after all, did I not finally get you here safely.”

Aiofe’s face darkened with guilt as she confessed to the impasse she faced.

“I cannot allow it little sister, the ceremony is a Christian ceremony. I have had to convert to the new faith to become bride and queen to Magab. That, apparently, is the new law in Carthaginia. Unless you convert to Christianity, you cannot officiate. The Bishop Alviar is even considering banning you from the festivities.”

“By the Gods! Why! I am your sister, am I not?”

“Yes and my dearest friend to boot. But apparently the Bishop believes you must convert though to do that you must declare yourself a man or a woman. Everybody knows of your duality!”

“I am both! You know that!” Drustina protested. “How can I declare one or the other? That’s impossible! I am what I am!”

“But apparently there is no place for monsters in the new order. Those are the Bishop’s words, not mine!”

Drustina’s eyes blazed with rage.

“How dare he call me a monster? I will slice his innards from his fat belly!”

“Well not before the ceremony, sister; that will delay our coronation.”

“Then the moment after! He’ll not insult me like that!”

Aiofe’s blood ran cold. She knew her younger sibling was more than capable of such ferocity. ‘God knows she had seen it enough times.’

Drustina continued angrily.

“How in all the gods can I declare myself one or the other? I carry a child, I cannot be more woman than that but I refuse to relinquish my hard earned status as a proven warrior. Besides, I have a cock and it works! Let this fat hypocrite face me in honest combat.”

“These priests do not fight with the sword, they preach by the word.”

“I’ve heard their word! I’ve read their confounded book. Nowhere does it speak of those who are blessed with both parts!”

“It speaks of abominations,” Aiofe countered.

“It does not describe them. How can men speak of abominations if their book does not specifically describe them?”

“They interpret the words.”

“Yes. To mean anything they want, especially the damned priests. The man is a bigot! Let him sit down with his stupid book and argue with me. I’ll show him for the fool he is. I’ve read that book from leather to leather! There are more contradictions in that book than stones in the wall of this palace. Let him bring his book forth and for nearly every teaching he offers I’ll find a contradiction. He forgets Aiofe, our beloved Grandmother Giana taught us to read and write - Latin and Greek! Go on, bring him on. He may deceive the poor illiterate fools but he cannot fool me! He’ll win no honest arguments with me! He can only win his arguments when the poor bloody victim is bound and manacled and pleading for mercy. The man is a coward and an idiot and his book is full of lies. Even the last words of his prophet are different in every testament. You’d think they’d manage to get that bit right, especially as they must have been there if they were only to bear witness! How can you people be so stupid?”

“I’m not being stupid sister. I am simply being compliant to enable the marriage of Magab and me to go ahead.”

“Yeah, and thus setting women back for generations! And what’s worse, setting the likes of me back forever! He wants me dead or exiled just like Mutas but I’ve committed no crime.”

“You have killed,” Aiofe hazarded.

Drustina snorted with disgust.

“So has everybody else at this wedding including you! We have all killed others in battle; that was no crime. There would be no wedding and no coronation if we hadn’t killed and won.”

“Bishop Alviar did not kill. He can offer absolution.”

“Absolution my arse. If there is guilt from our killings then he is as guilty as the rest of us. He benefited from our actions so if he preaches against our actions he is a bigger hypocrite than any of us! Why do I need absolution? If I enter the halls of the Gods I will need no absolution when they check my deeds.”

“He can intercede on your behalf.”

“Who told you that? Him I suppose. He'd have to say that wouldn't he.”

Aiofe hesitated. Drustina’s arguments were too rational by far. She was using the same cruel logic she had used when assessing risks in battle. Drustina was proving she was no fool! Aiofe finally conceded Drustina’s points but reluctantly admitted that she had to comply with the Christian laws if she wished to marry Magab. Drustina was disgusted by her older sister’s complicity and she turned on her heel. During the rest of the preparations Drustina took to riding out on her beloved mare and spending her days in further study of the stupid Christian book. It irked her that the more she read, the more contradictions she found. One day, as she was returning from a ride, she saw the Bishop Alviar crossing the palace courtyard. He turned at the sound of Seripatese’s hooves clacking on the heavy slab-stones.

“I’d like a word with you!” He called contemptuously.

Drustina turned to face him and he shrank slightly as he fell under her fearless gaze.

“What d’you want?” she asked bluntly; looking down her nose at him from the saddle of her mare.

“I think it’s a question of what you want, you should be looking for salvation.”

“I don’t want anything. I have it all.” Drustina smirked. “I spit on your stupid preaching. Who are you to offer me salvation - salvation from what? Can you make life? Can you make a baby? Can you carry a baby?”

She patted her swollen belly and the Bishop glared at her before spitting venomously, “You are the whore of Babylon! Your child is a bastard.”

Drustina’s eyes flashed with anger as she whipped out her sword with lightening speed. The Bishop hardly saw the lightening fluidity until he felt the razor sharp point pricking his Adam’s apple.

“Lies like that could get your throat split,” Drustina warned him. “I am Torvel’s partner and we need no stupid words or parchments or superstitious incantations to prove our union. The proof is here, inside my belly! Torvel is mine, I am his and we are equal in making this life within me!”

She whipped her sword away with equal speed and urged her beloved Seripatese forward as the Bishop felt his blood first run cold with dread then hot with jealous rage. The man was a misogynist bigot who would one way or another see his revenge.
In their palace chambers, Drustina met Torvel who had just come from the practice yards where some new recruits to the new army were being trained. She related her confrontation with the Bishop and Torvel frowned.

“It would do well not to cross him too much, his power waxes as the people heed his preachings.”

“Huh. Are you afraid of him as well? He’s a bigot and a liar!”

“We both know that darling but I have to warn you again that his power waxes. You know that the Templar Knights are returning to Malta once the new army is up to scratch?”

“Yes. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well you know the Bishop gets his temporal support from the Templar Knights. They are sworn to uphold this newfangled faith against all-comers.”

“So! They are our friends; we have stood beside them in battle. The Templar Commander and I are good friends now. The Templars would never harm me.”

“Not quite my angel. We have only stood alongside the Maltese Templars in battle. The soldiers replacing them are coming from an Island called Cypru at the eastern end of this middle sea. They know nothing of your conquests and your service. Their loyalties will be entirely with the Bishop. He comes from Cypru as well.”

“Are you saying that these soldiers might do as the Bishop wills?”

“I don’t know.” Torvel confessed. “The Maltese Commander has warned Eric, Carl and me that things might not always be so open and easy for us in the future.”

“But what about Magab and his Queen Aiofe, she’s my sister. They wouldn’t dare harm the Queen’s sister.”

“You sister is converting to this new faith, she has to if she is to marry Magab. The Bishop wields huge power over the worshippers of this three in one god thing.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing that doesn’t make sense. Why don’t they just have three gods and be done with it? Anyway, if I worshipped just one god it would be entirely between her and me. No stupid male interlocutor to speak on my behalf. How would that stupid man know what is in my heart - a woman’s heart? Men don’t have to carry these!”

She patted her bump affectionately and Torvel smiled. They hugged each other gently as Drustina cried softly.

“You will stand by me if that butcher tries to harm my baby won’t you?”

Torvel hugged her tight. It was the first time he had sensed Drustina’s fear.

“He’s my baby as well Dru! You know I would die for him and you!”

A few months later the four northerners stood on the quay watching the Maltese Templars embarking for their home island. Drustina leaned heavily on Torvel’s arm for her belly was now heavily swollen and she was near her time. She was pretty clumsy because of her large bump. Carl and Eric seemed thoughtful as they stared across the harbour to see the Cypru Templars disembarking on the far quay. Drustina followed their gaze and read their thoughts.

“Problems ahead comrades?” she asked the pair.

They both nodded as Carl frowned and answered. “I think so. See that fucking madman Bishop Alviar is already fawning and slavering with their commander. He hasn’t even come over to pay his respects to his colleague the Maltese Commander. You’d think that at least as men at arms in the same army, they would have respect for each other. I don’t like it Drustina. I fear for those of the old beliefs.”

“Don’t we all; you and me and Eric and Torvel,” Drustina finished his thoughts for him.

Carl nodded and they said their farewells to their Templar comrades as the last Maltese ship prepared to cast off. They watched with professional interest as the wind filled its sails and the ship slipped smoothly away from the quay. After a final wave, Eric turned to the others.

“We’d best go and make ourselves known to this new commander.”

They walked slowly around the quay wall towards the Cypru disembarkation and they stopped frequently to let Drustina recover her composure. She grinned gamefully but all three men could see their erstwhile companion was heavily burdened by her precious cargo. Finally they reached the landing point only to find their way blocked by some men at arms bearing the uniforms and tabards of the new soldiers.

“We will speak with the new Templar Commander,” Carl declared boldly.

“You will have to wait here. He is busy with the Bishop Alviar.”

Carl was about to draw his sword but Eric restrained him.

“Patience comrade, let’s not start on the wrong foot. I have a better strategy.”

“That is?” Carl wondered aloud.

“We attend upon Magab and when the new commander comes to present his credentials we will meet him as the King’s personal retinue - which we are I might remind you.”

Carl nodded and Drustina agreed. Eric was showing eminent good sense. Torvel took his hand from his sword to signal his agreement and glared meaningfully at the soldiers lined across the quay.

“They will soon know their place!” he reminded the others.

They left for the King’s apartments where Drustina met with her sister Aiofe. She was sharing a morning fruit juice with Arina and they both smiled joyfully as Drustina plodded into their apartments. She asked if Eric, Carl and Torvel could join them and Aiofe readily agreed.

“Where’s Magab?” Drustina asked.

“Busy in council with the newly elected representatives of the citizen’s committee. My husband has taken a leaf from Walezia’s book and chosen to form a citizen’s council for advice and information.”

“Anybody we know sitting upon it?” Torvel ventured.

“Oh yes, the two older commanders from the guerrilla campaign and several of our old fifth column comrades from the campaign. The people are pleased with the way the guerrillas treated them during the struggles and when they stood for election, they won by a mile. Also several more of the ordinary citizens from Magab’s sixth column have been elected by their townships when they learned of their part in the campaign. There are about twelve of our old comrades sitting on the council.”

“Sounds like a Scandinavian Allthing,” Carl observed.

“Precisely,” Aiofe agreed. “He’ll be coming out of council for lunch. What brings you here outside of the normal morning meeting?”

“Oh just a few issues we seem to be having with the Bishop’s retainers; those new Templar knights from Cypru,” Eric declared. “They don’t seem to realise who we are.”

Aiofe frowned. Already she had been hearing unsettling stuff about the new knights. As the men were settling to share a pitcher of beer, they noticed Drustina struggling to get comfortable. Torvel was at her side immediately.

“Are you alright love?” he asked.

“No!” Drustina gasped. “I think I … oww! Oh hell what was that? My belly!”

Aiofe gaped at her sister and suddenly realised what was afoot.

“Go and get the healers,” Aiofe turned to Arina. “Drustina’s time has come!”

Arina was on her feet in an instant and dashing through the palace corridors while the three comrades were all attendance upon their beloved heroine. Aiofe had them lift her onto a divan and Drustina gasped with fear. She was now realising her time was imminent. Now came the big test, was her body sufficiently a woman’s to complete what had started? She reached up to grip Torvel’s hand in pure terror.

“I’m afraid my lovely. I pray I will not fail you. If I’m to die, promise me you’ll look after my child if he survives me.”

Torvel’s eyes widened with shock as he finally realised the true test was upon them. He turned to Carl and Eric who had also realised what was now afoot.

They made her comfortable upon the wide divan and waited nervously until the healer arrived. They waited a long time as Drustina’s pains got closer together.

“Where is the damned woman when you want her? She knows she has been retained at the palace specifically for this event!” Aiofe cursed. “Guards! Go and see what detains them!”

One of the sergeant guardsmen dashed off in search of Arina only to find her arguing furiously with the Bishop Alviar.

“Don’t you bloody tell me where I can and cannot go!”

“These are the new quarters for the Cypru Templars. It would be unseemly for a maid to be seen entering them unescorted!”

“Listen Bishop! I have crossed this courtyard a hundred times a day. I am a member of the royal household god-damn you! I seek the healer.”

“I have sent her to attend on two of the Cypru Templars. They have been sick all the way across the sea.”

“Well you’d better bring her back. She is needed in the royal chambers. What authority have you to order the Queen’s own physician about?”

The Bishop was about to remonstrate further when the sergeant of the guard arrived. Arina turned to him and enlightened him.

“She is down on the quay with the soldiers, can you go and fetch her?”

The Bishop interfered again. “The sergeant will not be allowed to enter the encampment. I will have to give him a written passport.”

Arina gaped stupidly and even the battle tested young sergeant looked shocked. He had won his early promotion through courage in the battles and he held his rank dear. He remonstrated immediately with the Bishop.

“I am one of the Praetorian Guard holy man! I go wherever the King or the Queen directs. I have been told to find Arina and return with the healer. No man stops me from going anywhere in this kingdom without recourse to the sword. Do you wish the sword in your gizzard?”

As he spoke he drew his sword and the Bishop paled. It seemed that not all the people were yet in awe of his holy powers. This guardsman had obviously got his own ideas of who was in charge. The Bishop’s megalomania had blinkered him to the fact that the new palace guards were utterly loyal to Magab and to their comrades in arms, namely Eric, Carl, Torvel and Drustina.

To avoid any further problems of ‘authority’, the guard called to four patrolling guardsmen and ordered them to accompany him and the Bishop down to the quay whilst Arina dashed back to explain the delay.

When Aiofe heard of the situation, she despatched a senior cavalry officer to hurry on horseback down to the quay where the Cypru Knights had finished disembarkation, and bring the healer back astride his horse. The officer met with the Sergeant and the Bishop arriving just as he was collecting the lady healer and mounting her onto his horse. He told the sergeant to return the Bishop back to the palace where the King Magab would deal with the Bishop’s presumption of temporal powers. Then he trotted off with Ethelia the healer back to Aiofe’s chambers.

When the healer arrived, Drustina was already in the throes of ten minute contractions. Her parturition was proceeding quickly but painfully. Drustina was screaming with pain and fear. Aiofe, Arina and the ladies in waiting were all trying to ease her strictures and all were young inexperienced women who had never witnessed childbirth. It pained them and frightened them all as Drustina screamed and cursed her partner Torvel. The three brave warriors had tactfully withdrawn when Drustina had started cursing Torvel for having his pleasures with her. A wave of relief entered the room with the healer and she quickly got down to business. An inspection reassured the healer that the man/woman was properly equipped to complete the parturition. She smiled thankfully and slid her instruments out of sight before reassuring Drustina that things were going well. Next, she smiled at Aiofe and whispered, “Your sister is all woman where it counts. She will bear normally if very painfully.”

“Is it always this way healer?” Aiofe asked as fear made her own whispered question hoarse. “The screaming and the pain?”

“I’m afraid so my lady. Even a queen is a sister to the lowest drudge when childbirth is upon her. We are all to suffer pain.”

“She seems calmer now; she’s stopped that awful screaming.”

“I have given her some herbs to help with the pain though I think her learning she was going to bear her child normally has comforted her greatly. I think her screaming was her fear of dying without ever seeing her child.”

“Will you stop fucking talking about me as though I wasn’t here!” Drustina swore angrily.

The healer excused herself from Aiofe’s company and returned between Drustina’s legs. She looked up and gave encouragement.

“You’re progressing well girl. You’ll soon be a woman!”

“Is this what it takes?” Drustina squealed. “Is this what it fucking takes? Oww!”

There was a sudden flush of fluids and Drustina stared fearfully.

“What the fuck is that? Am I bloody leaking or something?”

“No no my child. Your waters are burst, your child is coming!”

Aiofe and Arina watched with enrapture as Drustina squealed and cursed alternately. Then they gasped with surprise as a tiny crown started to appear from the opening behind Drustina’s cock and balls. The healer was all efficiency as she encouraged Drustina to keep pushing until eventually the baby emerged and let out a high pitched wail after the healer cleared its mouth. Then, knowing of Drustina’s spectacularly obvious duality, the healer spent several minutes checking the baby’s form and shape. Finally she declared.

“A healthy baby daughter my lady!”

Drustina smiled tearfully as relief overcame her. She had delivered, she was alive, the baby was safe and seemingly properly formed. Drustina had not passed on her terrible curse.

Drustina started to cry with relief then her belly contracted again and she gave another scream. The healer was all attention and immediately settled between Drustina’s legs.

“By God my lady, your daughter has a twin! Push girl, have you the strength to push?”

For an answer Drustina hooked her leg sharply against the healers shoulder and cursed.

“Is that strength enough?”

The healer grinned, she liked a fighter and if nothing else this mother was a fighter.

“Then push my lady, just as hard as you did with the first.”

Drustina needed no encouragement. Having now learned that she was fully ‘as other women’ when it came to that most vital function, she was prepared to undergo the pain one more time. She cursed and pushed alternately until the second head appeared and the healer was once again all efficiency. A prolonged inspection followed the twin’s first bellow and the healer finally confirmed.

“He’s a son my lady, and a lusty pair of lungs. He is seemingly properly formed as well.”

“Are you sure?” Drustina begged. “Please check again, see if there are any - you know - wounds behind his manhood.”

The healer held the baby up and spread his legs gently to allow Drustina a clear view. Drustina stared then gently pushed her finger into her newborn son’s crotch and sighed. There were definitely no other ‘openings’! Her son screamed at the affront and all the women smiled; though none as much as Drustina.

“Thank the gods and goddesses for that!” Drustina grinned and sagged with relief. “No more the curse it seems,” she whispered as fatigue overcame her. The healer helped her with the final shedding of the two placentas and Drustina fell asleep, while Arina and Aiofe savoured the delight of nursing the newborns in their arms as the news spread like wildfire.

“It’s twins!” The message was shouted across the palace courtyard. The call was soon relayed from the battlements, “Twins!” Through the town square; Twins, Twins! Twins! In nearly every quarter there was rejoicing except one, Bishop Alviar’s apartments.

After a couple of hours rest, pressure in Drustina’s swollen breasts woke her. She stirred uncomfortably and hefted her breasts gently before realising she was leaking. She gave a squeak of surprise that alerted the healer to her return.

“By the gods! Healer look! I’ve started milking! — I’m a bloody cow!

“Well what did you expect woman, you’re a mother now. Your body is only doing what mother’s bodies do.”

Drustina looked around the empty room and frowned.

“Where are they?”

“They’re down in the parlour room. Torvel, Aiofe and Arina are showing them off. The whole palace retinue is gathered!”

“Well get them back. They must be hungry.”

“No sooner said than done my girl. I was on my way the moment you woke; and while I’m away don’t go stealing any of that milk for yourself. The first milk is important for your babies. I don’t know why but babies who have their mother’s first milk seem to thrive in later childhood.”

“What d’you mean steal it? It’s my milk! It’s from my own body.”

“It may be from your body young lady but it’s not yours. It belongs to your children. That’s the meaning of motherhood. The words are sacrifice and giving all! I’ve warned you now. That first milk is vital to your babies!”

Drustina pouted and fingered the sticky yellow discharge as the healer went to fetch the babies. Despite the healer’s words, she couldn’t resist a little taster and her eyes widened with surprise. It was quite sweet!

She was making herself comfortable and re-arranging the pillows around her when the commotion in the passage alerted her to the return and she smiled expectantly for she was being re-united with her babies. The smile turned to a huge grin of proud accomplishment when Torvel appeared with both babies in his arms. He sat gingerly on the wide divan and carefully proffered both babies with unusual diplomacy. Aiofe and Arina grinned for they had dressed the babies identically and Drustina had no way of knowing which was boy or girl. She looked at them and smiled with gratitude as the audience was gathering - there could be no accusations of preference to boy or girl.

She took the one in her right arm first and gently latched it onto her breast as the healer had explained then she invited Torvel to help her with the second. Torvel reached forward but the healer stepped in.

“One at a time dear lady. The baby will not feel secure with just one arm supporting it.”

“But how will I know they are receiving equal shares?” Drustina protested.

“One to each breast!” the healer expostulated with amusement. “God girl! Can you not work it out?”

Drustina suddenly felt very stupid and giggled with embarrassment. Then she settled back on the pillows and savoured the first ever act of real ‘giving’ she had ever experienced. Half way through the experience she adjusted her legs discreetly. The pleasant sensations were making her horny and she was embarrassed by the incongruent stirrings between her legs. She pulled up her knees to hide the telltale lump that might have drawn some unsavoury comments from her audience.

Eventually her breast ran dry and she put the other infant on the other breast as Torvel took the first fed infant from her arms. The continued pleasant sensations almost brought her to orgasm and she felt quite alarmed as she squeezed her maleness to obstruct its unruly behaviour. Finally, she completed her first feeding session and lay back contentedly. Torvel hugged her and kissed her then with a child on each side, she joined them in sleep.

‘A mother and feeder at last!’ Was her last waking thought.

The healer ushered all observers from the room explaining that first mothers tired easily. All the other women were young and none of them had yet given birth so there was no-one there to contradict her. In truth, mothers in their second or subsequent births were usually much more tired. Older children were very demanding!

For the rest of the palace, the novelty of Drustina’s newborns soon wore off and Drustina soon discovered the demands of motherhood. Even with waiting maids and the healer to help her she found the task all consuming and envied Torvel his continued uninterrupted life. Drustina wanted to get out and about again, riding her beloved Seripatese. She found herself being bored with just sitting around the castle tending her babies all day and she took to going out with the babies amidst the townspeople in the main square. There at least old ladies would go gaga over the pair and other mothers would join her to share experiences. Drustina had found ‘the village pump’! It was now Torvel’s turn to feel jealous and neglected for every time he stopped by their apartments his erstwhile partner was absent.

“I suppose that all you do is yak — yak -- yak all day long.” He moaned.

“Yes,” Drustina protested bluntly. “There’s nobody else to talk to. You’re neglecting me with all these bloody coronation preparations and my sister’s supposed marriage. Why do they have to have such a stupid ceremony anyway? We didn’t!”

Torvel sighed. It was true. Just before he’d come into their apartments, he’d had words with the Bishop that very afternoon. The religious bully had charged that their twins were bastards and not entitled to royal privileges. The Bishop had received a sharp reminder from the tip of Torvel’s sword and he had warned the Bishop that if Drustina had heard him say it, then her sword would have travelled a lot further.

“Just be careful holy man! My wife has not forgiven you for charging her with being a monster.”

“She’s not your wife. You are not wedded!” the Bishop had remonstrated.

“Believe me you stupid oaf. We are better wedded than ever were any of your stupid sheep — your flock — as you so patronisingly describe them! She and I are wedded in the blood of battle. We have ridden and fought side by side for too many battles to let your accusation find substance. Close that stupid mouth and its lies or I’ll close it for you once and for all!”

As a final gesture, Torvel pushed the sword fractionally further and actually nicked the Bishop’s throat. The man let out a scream of terror thus exposing his essential cowardice. Torvel snorted with contempt, sheathed his sword and stalked across the courtyard to his and Drustina’s apartments. There, after she had remonstrated about only having the girls around the village pump for company, Torvel described his argument with the Bishop.

“He’s dangerous, darling,” Torvel warned his partner. “He absolutely detests you because you provide a threat to his hypocritical preaching. The next thing he’ll be trying to have us exiled or something.”

“I don’t think Aiofe would tolerate that, nor the army.”

“He’s poison, darling. Every day I hear different men amongst the Templar Knights make some idle jest about you but those jests add up to poison. Only the other day, one of those idiot called you the Lioness of Carthage and his colleague made some wisecrack about hunting and pride. Then they shut up when the realised I was within earshot.”

“Go on,” Drustina urged.

“Oh it was some crack about Eric, Carl and me being the lions in a pride and you hunting between us for the best sire. They made it sound like some sick joke about feline promiscuity but there was some undercurrent about the twin’s legitimate fatherhood. I didn’t hear the whole conversation.”

Drustina fumed and glanced meaningfully at her sword. Torvel followed her gaze and frowned.

“I understand your hurt and anger darling but these Cypru Knights are not like our old comrades. They have only legend and sagas to judge you. They were not witness to our struggles. Legend and sagas can work both ways for good and bad.”

“Yeah just like their stupid holy book. That’s all legend and saga.” Drustina grumbled. “It works for the priest’s good and the people’s bad. I mean how can any true father knowingly sell his daughter into slavery and yet not sell his son. Yet this wicked book promotes it; it even declares it to be the law! That’s why this evil creature hates women; he’d sell his own grandmother - his own mother even!”

She flung the tome across the room and Torvel left it there as he stepped forward to embrace her. He was shocked to feel her sobbing silently in his arms. Slowly her sobbing eased and she looked up into his eyes.

“You’d never sell our daughter into slavery would you?”

Torvel gasped and stared down at her.

“By the gods Woman. I was a bloody slave myself. You’ve seen the whip scars across my back. Months chained to an oar in a bloody Barbary galley. If you hadn’t freed me with my shipmates Eric and Carl, I would be long dead now. How could you even think such a question? I was born free, you were born free, and our children are free. You hurt me even thinking that!”

The tears returned as Drustina hugged him closer and he stroked her hair as he kissed her eyes to choke off the tears. They hugged for long minutes until finally, Drustina was assured.

Reality brought them back to the present, despite feeding twins, Drustina’s breasts were producing enough milk and she giggled as Torvel felt the damp spreading through his shirt.

“By the Gods girl, our children will never starve, will they?”

They parted reluctantly and Torvel followed her to the nursery where he sat with her as she fed their children. It was obvious to Torvel that the boy who had so bravely and crazily risked his life so many times was gone. The maid, the mother, the nourisher sat before him now, frightened for her children, frightened for her very life.

And every day, the evil Bishop Alviar worked to spread his misogynist bigotry and poison.

It came to a head at the coronation wedding of Magab and Aiofe. The Bishop gave a long sermon that damned about just about everything that was central to Drustina’s life. Even King Magab was embarrassed for his father had been one of the earliest converts to the three god faith. It seemed this bishop who hailed from the island of Cypru, had taken to heart some holy conclusions that had been agreed upon in a place called Actinium. Mutas had murdered the bishop who had converted Magab’s father and invited Bishop Alviar to persuade the pope to appoint him to the see of Carthage during his brutal reign.

Drustina had been forced to sit in a hidden alcove of the church throughout the coronation and listen to the poison without recourse to debate or contention. For that cruel imposition she could not forgive her sister Aiofe for being so weak and submissive,

Several days later, when Drustina went down to the town square with her babies; she noticed a distinct cooling towards her by the other young mothers. The Bishop’s poison was beginning to take effect. After a few days of steady deterioration between the other young mothers she had thought were her friends, Drustina took to carrying her sword again, hidden under her long skirt. Several times she had seen the Cypru Templar knights giving her hard stares as she carried her newborn twins from palace gates to town square.

Eventually she described her fears to Torvel.

“I can feel it. When they were born all the mothers were gaga over the babies but slowly they became more reserved then they became ‘stand-offish’ and now I can distinctly feel the mood changing to condemnation. I’m not bad Torvel. I’m not a monster but he’s spreading evil and lies about me. I heard one girl genuinely claim that I had a scaly tail. I cursed her and offered to show her my arse. I told her the only thing she would find would be a big angry scar and then she said it was the scar where they cut my tail off. I almost ran her through with my sword but that would really finish it. I tell you Torvel it’s becoming dangerous. I want to leave here. I want to go back to Malta. At least Walezia has the guts to keep his priests in check. Magab thinks that reasoning and argument will change their minds but he doesn’t see it. That man is a vicious, bigoted liar and his priests take their guidance from him. The lies are spreading like poison!”

Torvel tried reassuring her that as long as Aiofe was Queen, Drustina was safe.

Sadly it turned out not to be true.

One morning as Drustina was out with two of her few remaining friends (the girls she had rescued at the Cromlech before the struggles began), two Templar knights were walking past and the larger man made some loud derogatory remarks about Drustina’s duality.

It was the final straw. For months Drustina had been suffering the accumulating antagonisms in silence. Dirty looks ... mothers moving away when she arrived, smirks and whisperings as mothers herded their children away when she approached and of course the nasty, audible remarks whenever she came in earshot.

The Templar sergeant’s remarks finally broke through Drustina’s threshold of restraint. She handed her babies to her two friends and marched angrily up to the giant knight.

“You’ll take that back you vermin!”

“Like hell we will, you whore,” the sergeant laughed contemptuously.

Drustina turned to her friends and remarked.

“You heard that, girls, they called the Queen’s sister a whore. They have insulted the Queen.”

Even as she spoke to the girls she heard the telltale whisper of a sword being drawn from its scabbard. As a warrior long attuned to such sounds, Drustina whirled around whilst simultaneously whipping her sword from the scabbard that now lay just one fold under the close of her cape. The sword appeared as if by magic and the abusive Templar knight swallowed fearfully as he found her famous sword just inches from his fat throat.

“You’ll take that back or I’ll slit your fat throat for you and no more poison will issue forth.”

The man cursed but hesitated, then summoned up more courage and he called her a pervert, a monster, and a blasphemy in the eyes of God. His friend tried to caution him but the bully was into his stride. Up until that moment Drustina had used restraint and the bully had taken that to mean fear. He boldly declared that the Bishop believed she should be burned at the stake for witchcraft.

For Drustina, the bully’s accusations were the last straw. Without further warning, she gave a deft flick of her wrist then slipped the sword into the man’s throat and cut his vocal chords. A look of sheer disbelief came to the bully’s face as he tried to speak and no sound issued from his throat. There was some blood but not enough to endanger his life. Drustina had learned the trick from the Barbary pirates after the Iberian wars. Her razor sharp, Toledo blade had done its work well. The man put his hand to his throat and felt disbelievingly at the neat little hole where the razor sharp point of her sword had done its duty. He then tried to raise his sword but felt yet another sharp prick and her blade returned to his throat.

“Try it and you’re a dead man!” Drustina whispered angrily as she continued. “The next one of you bullies to utter lies about me will find his whole head severed from his body. Now leave me alone and go and play at being soldiers. Be thankful you still have your life!”

The sergeant stumbled off in sheer disbelief that a mere maid had brought him so low. In truth the man was a fat overweight bully who had made his advancements by shouting and hectoring. He had never actually been in a battle. Back at the barracks he was forced to sign a report compiled by his commanding officer because the man was an illiterate thug. The event was related mainly by his associate who was physically afraid of the huge bully and therefore lied about the circumstances. Immediately, without leave or authority, the captain of that particular guard set out to ‘avenge’ the assault upon one of his own company of Templar Knights. It was an easy task to find Drustina; she was sat by the well in the town square sharing what remaining companionship she had with a few rare and loyal friends. The two girls from the Cromlech attack and some others who had known of Drustina’s true exploits in the wars to depose Mutas.

The captain and his guard arrived in the square seven strong and immediately made for Drustina sitting nursing her babies under the shade of a large orange tree just aside from the well. Even as she saw them coming, Drustina sensed trouble and quickly deposited her babies in her friend’s care as she prepared to defend herself.

“This looks like trouble. Look after my babies and tell my sister,” she begged as she glanced across the square. “This appears to be the vengeance crew.”

The Cromlech sisters took her infants while one of the other girls slipped away pretending to be afraid when in reality she went dashing to the Palace and Queen Aiofe’s apartments.

The captain of the guard wasted no time in trying to organise Drustina’s arrest but Drustina was already prepared for their abuse. Days before this incident, the deteriorating climate had persuaded her to wear leggings under her dress to enable her to cast aside her skirt in preparation to defend herself. Even as the guard approached with undeserved confidence, Drustina backed herself to the bucket housing at the well to ensure she could not be surrounded and attacked from behind. In one practiced move, her skirt was off and her sword was out. The soldiers grinned salaciously as they sighted the ripe curves under her tight fitting leggings then their grins darkened as she spread her legs in a defensive stance and her blouse rode above her crotch to reveal the unmaidenly bulge of her manhood. The captain ordered his men to take the ‘creature’ and they surged forward expecting an easy fight. After two of their number lay dead and two more stood aside with disabling wounds, they withdrew to re-consider the situation. The captain stared unbelievingly at the carnage beside the well and he bellowed at the maid,

“You are a murdering witch!”

Drustina scorned his offensive remarks and replied, “And you are an illegal butcher. By what authority do you come to take me?”

“You assaulted my sergeant!”

“Who assaulted my dignity... a huge, bully of a man who abuses nursing mothers and even tried to strike me.”

“You lie!”

Drustina shrugged and nodded to her friends attending to her infants.

“They were witnesses. Ask them.”

The captain turned scornfully to study the two sisters from the cromlech incident and the other remaining girls he sneered.

“Of course they would say something like that, they are your friends, and they are known to consort with you every day, here in the square.”

“Consort with me? What d’you mean by that. When did that become a crime?”

“Since the Bishop declared you to be an abomination in the eyes of God.”

Drustina’s eyes flashed with rage.

“Tell him to come and face me with those accusations!”

“The Bishop is a peaceful man. He speaks for the god of peace.”

“And yet sends armed soldiers to arrest a woman, a nursing mother; how peaceful is that? Your Bishop is a bully, a bigot and a coward ... just like you and this rabble of your henchmen!”

“That is blasphemy.”

“It’s the truth - look about you. Where is the peace attached to those two dead men?”

“You killed them!”

“They attacked me, a nursing mother. That’s the truth! I was sitting here peacefully nursing my babies and talking with my true friends in friendship and peace. You come along with swords at the ready and tried to take me when I have committed no crime but to defend myself and my babies.”

“It is a lawful arrest.”

“By what law? King Magab’s law runs here not the word of some brutal holy man.”

“You have broken God’s law. You are a blasphemy ... a monster with two bodies.”

Drustina snorted contemptuously.

“Can’t you count? Two arms, two legs, one head and one body how do you say I have two bodies?”

“You are a monster with two parts, man and woman.”

“And I was made this way. If your crazy God is the supposed creator of all things then he must have created me! If he made me this way he must have had a purpose.”

“You are the spawn of Satan. God does not make mistakes!”

“He made a mistake sending a coward like you to arrest a mere woman with two babies.”

The captain’s eyes flashed with rage but the gleaming, bloody sword, still raised ‘en-garde’ in Drustina’s hand, easily dissuaded him from any further rashness. He ordered his remaining men to accompany him to the Bishop’s apartments to consider the next plan. There were just too many witnesses to the incidents in the square that day. Drustina recovered her babies and went immediately to seek an audience with King Magab, her own brother-in-law.