Read Online The Saint's Mistress by Kathryn Bashaar - Free Book Online

this, and if he doesn’t want the child, I’ll help you get rid of it, may God forgive
    me.”
    I nodded.

    28

    Of all days, Aurelius was late to our meeting in the square that day. I stood in the late
    afternoon sun, sweating and cranky, and as the hour grew later, a stone of panic began to lodge
    itself in my throat. Maybe he was already finished with me, child or no. But, finally, I saw him
    striding into the square from the direction of Urbanus’ house. He raised a hand in greeting as he
    approached. I nearly fainted with relief.
    “Wonderful news,” he said. “I’m all set for school in Carthage. I leave in three weeks.”
    “Wonderful,” I agreed faintly.
    “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy.”
    “The heat,” I said, “it’s just bothering me today.”
    “We’ll get you some wine. Come on.”
    We walked the blocks to Urbanus’ house in silence, and Aurelius had one of the slaves bring
    me a goblet of watered-down wine. As I sipped, I felt life flowing back into me and gained my
    courage. I might as well just come out with it. “I’m with child,” I blurted.
    “What? How could that have happened?”
    I looked at him.
    “I just mean that’s terrible. I’m going to Carthage and – well, aren’t there ways of stopping
    it?” He stood and walked a few steps, running a hand through his hair.
    Although “stopping it” had been my first thought, too, I was angry. “Yes, there are ways of
    stopping it. But Miriam thought you’d want to know first. She thought you might have another
    idea.”
    “Well, what else can we do? I don’t see what else we can do.” He stepped back towards me
    now, with his hand still worrying his thick hair.
    “Of course. You’re right. I’m sorry I bothered you with it.” I stood and set my wine goblet on
    the bench where we’d been sitting.
    He tried to embrace me. “Come on, Leona, don’t be this way. Surely you don’t want a child
    either. And this doesn’t have to change things between us, does it?” He put a hand to my cheek
    and tried to get me to look at him.
    I shrugged him off and kept my eyes on the ground. “I’m not feeling well. I have to go now.”
    “Leona, I’m sorry. I’ll pay, if there’s a cost to getting rid of it.”
    I started walking towards the gate.
    He kept pace beside me. “Do you want to have the baby? Just tell me. Leona, don’t be this
    way.”
    I opened the garden gate, shrugged off his restraining arm, and passed through, back into the
    hot street, into my old, dusty world, not looking back.

    I expected an evil-looking old crone, and was surprised when Miriam’s midwife was young
    and pretty, with three small children of her own playing in the room.
    She asked about my last bleeding, gently felt my belly, examined my eyes and teeth, then
    leaned forward in her chair and said, “Are you sure you don’t want this child?”
    I nodded, lips pressed together.
    “There are ways to abort a pregnancy which are almost certain to work, but they’re
    dangerous. If you want to try one of them, find another midwife. What I’m going to give you
    won’t hurt you, and it won’t hurt the baby if it survives, but it doesn’t always work. You
    understand this?”
    I nodded again, tempted to try the other midwife with the method that always worked, but
    afraid to die.
    29

    “All right, then,” she said, and took some pots off a shelf.

    I spent another sleepless night, the air thick and still. I made a tisane of one bag of the
    midwife’s herbs late in the afternoon, and drank the bitter mixture. At night, while the rest of the
    house slept, I created another infusion by steeping the other bag of herbs in water. In this, I
    soaked a rag, which the midwife had instructed me to wring out and then wad into a pessary to
    place inside myself. I tiptoed outside to do this, but when I was finished, I turned and saw Numa
    standing in the doorway watching me, arms folded.
    “So you got yourself in trouble, just like I said