Inbul’s Daughter
Master Inbul, one of Elhrub’s greatest sages and philosophers, was giving an open lecture at the Great Agora. This was intriguing in that he normally spoke only at the agora on the grounds of his ‘bibliotheca,’ as he calls it. He was to speak on his principles of leadership, and, as being a student of such masters, I intended to be in attendance.
When I arrived at the Great Agora, several sages and students such as myself were already present. I was fortunate enough to find a seat near enough that I could see and hear Master Inbul without being distracted by some of the other masters, who would often comment amongst themselves.
Prior to Master Inbul’s arrival, I noticed Master Vrageo near the front discussing something with some of his peers. He seemed agitated at one of the other masters, of whom I could not see, as he kept pointing at them. I presumed this master was probably Nerian or Torat (or at least what they considered a sage), as a few other groups of sages and students seemed to discuss their presence as well.
The various attendees quieted down and took their seats once Mater Inbul approached the agora, and no sooner had he welcomed everyone and thanked us for coming than Master Vrageo interrupted.
“Master Inbul, I am, as I’m sure everyone in attendance here is, eager to hear you speak. Before you begin, though, there is one matter that has to be addressed. That woman, who sits as if she were a master, must be removed.”
A woman? That was the source of the discussion amongst the others? From my vantage point, I could not confirm this, but the vague outline of their form suggested that Master Vrageo was correct.
“Removed? For what reason?” Inbul responded. “Is not the Great Agora open to all?”
Undeterred, Vrageo said, “It is. But this lecture is a discussion amongst learned men and students. It is currently no place for a woman, especially one who presumes to be a master sage.”
“She presumes nothing. Loqinn is my student and here at my invitation. As my guest, she may sit among the masters.”
This answer seemed to infuriate Vrageo. “You must have gone mad. Your affinity for the Timerialians, attempting to teach women to think and reason, and now this. I demand that she leave at once.”
“No,” Inbul said in a calm voice. “However, if you wish to prove that Loqinn is not fit to be a student, and therefore not worthy to be my guests, then debate her.”
Vrageo said with a sneer, “It will be my pleasure to once and for all end this frivolous notion that we can teach a woman to think and reason.” This response brought murmurs from several who shared Vrageo’s view that women could not think like men.
I was not so sure. At an inn I sometimes frequent for meals, there is a serving maid I have had the pleasure of talking with on several occasions. This maid, Dietes, seems to possess a greater intellect than normally attributed to women. I paid more attention to the debate because of this.
Inbul’s guest, Loqinn, and Master Vrageo both approached Inbul. I could now see her clearly, and I found Loqinn was a very plain-looking woman, though younger than the two masters, though it was hard to estimate her age. If pressed, I would say she was about 40 at the very least. It was clear that she was nervous, standing in front of all these influential thinkers.
“Master Inbul, on what subject would you like me to lecture your student on?” Vrageo said, mocking Master Inbul.
I saw a slight smile come across Inbul’s lips, much like a cat playing with its prey. “Simply what is it like to carry a child?”
This enraged Vrageo. “What do you mean, ‘carry a child?’ What nonsense is this?”
Calmly Inbul clarified, “Simply just that. What is it like to carry a child until its birth?” I do not know if Master Inbul premeditated or just hatched this, but it was quite brilliant. He had played Master Vrageo into a subject that he should be at a clear disadvantage of.
It visibly changed Loqinn. She no longer showed any nervousness. She had an air of confidence about her. Much like a true, elderly sage has when asked a simple question on a subject they have studied their entire life.
“Very well then,” began Vrageo. “To carry a child to birth does not differ from having a water skin placed on one’s abdomen. Over the course of eight months, one adds the equivalent of two stones of water to the skin. Then, at the appropriate time, that water is expelled from the body, partly as the child. There is no great discussion to be had on these facts.”
There was a long pause before Inbul spoke. “Is that all, Master Vrageo? Do you yield the Agora?”
“Yes.”
There were a number of whispers by those in attendance at this. I will admit that I thought Master Vrageo had made a good argument, though not one of his better speeches.
“Loqinn, you may now begin.”
Loqinn took a deep breath before starting. “Before I begin, I wish to thank publicly Master Inbul for asking me to attend as his guest. Also, I would like to thank Master Vrageo for entering into this debate with me. Finally, I thank all of you in attendance for listening to my argument.
“To a degree, what Master Vrageo has described is correct. To carry a child is something like a water skin being slowly filled. That is the limit to where he is correct.
“I know this because I have been a midwife, and I have had four children of my own. I say without a doubt each time was different. Some of my children were active in my womb, and I could feel them move and flail. Sometimes I thought they would grow up to be violent, as they would kick and punch so actively. My son, on the other hand, was docile and seldom moved.
“And while carrying them, my appetite changed. Some foods that were normal for me to eat had become bland and unappealing, while others I rarely care for now were what I sought to eat. In addition, there were the early days where I felt I could not keep any food down.
“Besides feeling my children move inside me and my change in appetite, my feet, ankles and wrists would swell. With my first child, my ankles were the size of melons, and feet had become so large that I could not wear shoes or sandals and thus went barefoot. My wrists had swollen so much, I had some difficulty doing simple tasks such as sewing.
“When I gave birth to my children, I experienced a pain like I never felt before or since. It is not the pain, such a bruise, or cut, or even a broken bone. What I endured was something far more. It was as if every fiber of my being was working to expel my children, to deliver them into this world. I do not believe a common laborer, if they were to work from sunup to sundown for a fortnight, would know the strain on the body as I did during my children’s birth.”
Subconsciously, I had leaned forward to pay more attention to Loqinn. She lacked the elegance of speech that many in attendance had, but she spoke with a passion. This passion she spoke with seemed to mesmerize many in the Agora as they sat nearly silent and motionless, listening to her.
“Much of what I have stated is already available to men such as you in the writings of physicians and is common knowledge to midwives,” she said. “There is one aspect of carrying a child and delivering them into the world that has not been mentioned yet. Everything I stated so far is meaningless compared to it. That is the bond between mother and child.
“It is something that I cannot properly explain and do true justice to, even though I have had 4 children. To do so would require a special person, a poet. A poet whose words elicit the strongest emotions in the readers as if they had actually felt what the poet had written. A poet who is also a mother, one who has born a child into this world.
“I am no poet, but I will try to explain to you to the best of my limited ability.
“Each time I learned I was pregnant, my feelings were in chaos. I was happy, elated, scared, and worried all at the same time. Elated in that I was going to be a mother or re-affirmed that I was a mother, for I saw this as a blessing. Scared and worried at the prospect of being a mother in terms of what if I was to not do good or fail at being a mother?
“During the months I carried my children, I grew to love them and there was nothing in all the hells I would not endure for them. They are my life and I will care for them for the rest of my life. The discomfort of carrying them and of their birth was but a pittance I would have paid to have them. So, when they finally came into this world, I wept with tears of joy.
“Save for my second child, my first son. He was stillborn and drew no breath in this world. At this, I cried tears of pain. In the months that followed, I was but a shadow, forced to exist for his sister. It was she, not my husband nor priest, which eventually led me out of darkness. I had born her into the world and I had to see her into womanhood.
“When I conceived her sister, it was my first daughter who gave me hope I would bring this next one into the world safely. She was the proof that I had done it once and the conviction I could do it again.”
Loqinn’s emotions were getting to her as she had started crying as she explained her emotions about having children. I do not believe these were tears of weakness, not after hearing how impassioned she was. These were tears of both pain and joy that no man could ever understand.
She paused long enough to wipe her eyes and recompose herself before concluding, “That, my assembled Masters, is what it is like to carry a child.”
The Great Agora was silent for a moment. Slowly, as if a spell was being lifted, Master Inbul rose from his seat among the attendees. I had not noticed he had sat down amongst them. As he approached Loqinn and Master Vrageo, Master Urius stood and applauded. Many other masters and attendees soon joined him. I could see from my vantage that Loqinn was both excited and humbled by this.
“I believe the winner of this debate is decided,” Inbul said. Before he could speak another word, Master Vrageo stormed out of the agora, followed by some of his colleagues and disciples.
After the applause quieted down some, someone from the crowd spoke, “Madam Loqinn, thank you for your insight into this.” This brought several confirmations from the masters.
“I am honored and humbled by your praise,” she said in reply with a slight bow.
“Madam Loqinn, how long have you been Master Inbul’s student?”
“I first heard Mater Inbul speak some six or seven years ago. Only in the last three have I become his student.”
Master Urius then asked, “Mistress Loqinn, I find your speech on bearing children quite stimulating. May I ask you to write a thesis on the matter?”
Often, sages expect students to write theses of their own, especially on a subject they had an insight into. But Urius’s use of the title ‘Mistress’ was quite intriguing. She was but a student, and here was a master calling her his equal.
“I am no master,” Loqinn began in response, “I am just a student whom Master Inbul has taken to teach. But time permitting, yes, I will write a thesis on this.”
“Mistress Loqinn, compared to myself and my peers, on the subject you have debated, you have proven yourself to be our better. So, in that regard, if nothing else, you are a master,” Urius clarified.
Questions from the Agora kept coming. Though most addressed Loqinn as ‘madam,’ there were a few addressed to ‘mistress.’ The questions ranged from why she became a student to what subjects she was interested in. There were even questions about her opinions and interpretations of various subjects.
When the first questions about her thoughts came, she was again plainly nervous. I could understand this as I was nervous the first time I stood before an agora and was questioned. She quickly shed this nervousness and began to relax. Since the questions didn’t seem to be abating, Master Inbul yielded the Agora to Loqinn by sitting with his peers, a smile of satisfaction on his face, like a proud father.
