The prince was crying as if the world was ending, a
miserable hiccuping sob. The young page pushed open the door to the Queen’s bed
chamber. He tentatively peeked around the corner. The Queen was with the prince
so he shouldn’t be crying. Blair was usually happy, grinning
a toothless smile that begged everyone to join in.
A tiny fist appeared over
the top of the crib, waving angrily. Galvanised, Laird Jamie darted forward. He
peeked over the edge of the crib and then recoiled, tears brimming in his eyes.
“Goddess, the stench!” He coughed miserably. The smell was beyond belief.
Nose pinched, he peeked back into the cradle. Blair
was red with anger, his legs working ten times to the dozen. His face was
clenched like a fist and his mouth was wide open as he wailed.
Jamie was about the call for the Queen when he
realised that she was curled up in a ball on her royal four poster bed. She was
deeply and totally asleep, the sleep of the truly exhausted.
The demands of a new born prince and a difficult
pregnancy had taken all of her vigour, she had been a
pale, washed out version of the Queen for many months. If she was sleeping
through this racket, she was indeed wearied.
“Sssssh, you’ll wake your
mother.”
Blair was not placated.
Gingerly, Jamie reached into the crib, then backed off. He couldn’t pick up such a wee soul. The
prince might break. Blair wriggled angrily and something which was a strange
yellowish colour oozed from the edge of his nappy. Jamie retreated to the edge
of the room.
The wails increased dramatically.
Jamie darted back to the crib. “Shush; your mama.”
Unenthusiastically, the young laird reached into the
crib. Blair hiccuped miserably as he touched his chest. Hating every moment but
reluctant to leave the bairn in such woe, Jamie
lifted the prince from the crib. The baby’s head wobbled alarmingly and Jamie
clutched him, nappy and all, against his chest. Blair gummed the heavy brocade
sable escutcheon on Jamie’s tunic.
At least he had stopped crying. Realising that he had
to do something about the stench, Jamie walked extremely carefully -- placing
one foot in front of the other with great deliberation -- to the en suite
bathing room. He had never cleaned such a scrap before. The laird had helped
his little brother a few times, but Stephen could talk and move without
wobbling.
“How?”
Blair had no answer, he just
drooled down Jamie’s neat tunic.
“
Remembering the appallingly wobbly neck, he laid the
prince on the bottom of the ceramic bath very carefully. Blair reacted to the
change in situation with a new, louder wail and began to slip down the bath.
Frustrated, Jamie grabbed a towel and set in on the
base of the bath. Before Blair could bang his fists against the sides, he
snaked the towel under the tiny body. The whinging prince seemed moderately
enchanted by the change. He stopped crying and seemed to scrunch up into a
tight little ball. He held the pose and then relaxed; a beatific smile on his
face.
“Oh, Goddess.” Jamie reeled away from the bath, gagging.
There was a flannel beside the washing bowl and water
urn. He grabbed it and drenched it in the water from the urn. Plastering the
wet cloth over his face he found some relief from the appalling stench.
Loath, he peeked
back over the side of the bath. Blair gazed back at him, his long eyelashes wet
and spiked together. He sniffled.
Keeping one hand over his mouth and nose, Jamie – one
handed – released the catches and fastenings on Blair’s tiny night robe. He
half closed his eyes as he released the pin holding the nappy, it fell away but
the laird was unable to finish using only one hand.
Taking a deep breath, he manhandled Blair’s chubby
limbs out of the night robe and then slipped the smelly nappy out from under
his hips. The laird didn’t even pause, just launched them out of the window and
down into the court garden. Out of sight and out of mind and most importantly
out of reach.
Jamie retched, there was yucky yellow matter caking
the prince’s bottom and legs. It still smelled awful. Zinging through the fire
warming spell faster than ever before – his teacher would be proud – he warmed
the water in the urn beside the bath.
“How?” he demanded. “How, by The Sentinel, am I
supposed to do this?”
He set the urn at the prince’s feet and just as he
reached to pick him up, Jamie realised that his tunic was contaminated too.
The tunic joined the nappy and the night robe in the
garden.
Breathing deeply out the window, he took the time to
roll up the sleeves of his under shirt. Then girding himself, he ducked back
into the room. Blair’s temper had improved and he was watching the world around
him.
“You’re going to be good aren’t you?” Jamie asked
Blair just blew a spit bubble.
Carefully, Jamie gripped Blair under his arms and
lifted. The head wobbled and Jamie uncomfortably leaned into the bath angling
his hand to support the prince’s neck and head. Blair worked his feet against
the towel, he seemed content to put up with the
manhandling.
“Ready?” Jamie asked.
Blair just laughed.
“I call upon thee to do my bidding at thy discretion,”
Jamie intoned and nodded at the urn. He was supposed to gesture but his hands
were full.
A little see-through hand gripped the rim of the urn,
and then a tiny water elemental climbed out of the
vessel. It was about a foot high and garbed in a gown of ripples and streams.
The being cocked its pointy head in question.
“Can you help me wash Blair?” he pleaded. “I can’t do
it on my own.”
Blair made a tiny little noise, a delighted gurgle,
entranced by the figure.
The water elemental laughed and jumped down from its
perch on the rim. Warm water sloshed out of the urn behind the being in a tiny
wave that moved up the bath to tickle Blair’s feet.
The baby chortled.
Water ran this way and that, climbing up Blair’s knees
and legs and running back down. Where the water touched, clean, pink skin was
revealed. The elemental pointed imperiously to the plug hole and the mucky
water coursed away. More water flowed out of the urn,
it took a mad dash up the side of the bath and ran over the top of the soap
before launching itself onto Blair’s tummy. Blair’s eyes widened
in shock.
“It’s fine,” Jamie grinned at
his charge and was rewarded with a toothless, gummy smile.
Blair batted his hands in
the direction of the wriggling soap bubbles. Following the water elemental’s directions, they too
ran away down the drain. Yet more water flowed from the urn, this rinsed up and
down and over the prince. Jamie felt it wash the soap from his own fingers
before disappearing down the plug hole.
The water elemental pirouetted, bowed and then dove
after its friend.
“Thank you,” Jamie called.
Twisting, he lifted Blair out of the bath and set him
on the floor on another fluffy towel. Gently, tongue caught between his teeth
he carefully dried the baby. He leaned over to check that the prince was
completely dry, sniffing to make sure he was clean, and Blair grabbed his
border braid.
“No,” Jamie whimpered. He caught the tiny hand
clenched around his plaited hair. The prince’s small fingers were interwoven
with the strands. Blair gave a strong yank.
“Let go,” Jamie pleaded as he gently tugged at the
fingers.
Blair laughed and released him, but he eyed the neat
braid with a speculative gleam in his eye.
“Ah, a, ah!” Jamie tucked the braid under his collar.
Grumbling, the laird finished drying off the prince
and dusted his skin with cornstarch as he had seen the Queen do. There were no
baby clothes in the bathroom so he swaddled the prince in another towel.
Holding the prince against his chest he rose. Blair
nuzzled his collarbone, sighing contentedly. Half way out of the bathroom he heard
a querulous voice waft up through the open window from the gardens.
“What have I just stepped in!”
“Oops.”
~*~
The Queen lay curled on her side feigning sleep. She
had woken as the page had carried her son to the bathroom. Lord Ellison’s
grandson had been so focused on his prince that he had been oblivious to her
watching. It had certainly been an innovative way to bathe a baby. Jamie
carefully laid the prince in his cradle and cooed. Queen Naomi smiled into her
pillow; it had indeed been a bonding moment.
Finis