Realm of the Shorn

This week, we are delighted to bring you an evocative new tale from David Bowles’ Midwife series. If you’d like to read the series from the beginning, you can find, “Vigil,” “Relocation,” and “Dismantling” in our archives as a paid subscriber.

~ Julian and Fran, February 8, 2026

For February, The Sunday Morning Transport brings you four stories to thrill, chill, and delight you, by Celia Marsh, David Bowles, Carrie Vaughn, and PH Lee. We are grateful for your support in helping us get here, and in continuing to bring more extraordinary writers and their work to the page.

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Realm of the Shorn

A Tale of the Midwife

by David Bowles

I

I understand why you did it. Love. Loss. Despair.

And too much power. Not enough to undo the tragedy, but sufficient to fool yourself.

I understand because I feel the same, now, standing before the curtain that separates me from oblivion.

Unlike you, however, I have no impossible aims. I cannot retrieve that which I have lost.

You have proven that one cannot reverse or cheat time.

And you are not mine, any more than I am yours.

The ones we loved have slipped from our arms.

Aoc ceppa, the poets remind us.

Never again can they return.

II

I still remember the stings. First my flesh, then my heart.

After we expelled the Spaniards and their Tlaxcaltecah allies from the capital, my unit received an imperial commendation for our bravery and tenacity.

I was singled out for praise by Emperor Cuitlahuatzin, who appointed me general of the Shorn Ones. It was a historical moment. I was the first patlacheh to ever attain that rank. Not only had I fought with more courage than men presumed male since birth, but I had also wrested young Imperial Princess Tecuichpochtzin from the filthy heathen hands of Hernán Cortés.

When she was ritually married to the emperor two weeks later, I was permitted to stand behind her, guarding the most beloved daughter of the late Moteuczoma.

Commoners and nobles alike were impressed. General Excalli became a household name throughout Tenochtitlan in short order.

What an honor for someone like me, born to poor farmers on the outskirts of the island. Lacking wisdom, they had believed me a girl until I had stood at age thirteen before the altar of Huehuehcoyotl, revealing my true gender to heaven and earth.

Twenty years later, my heart swelled with pride. Recognized as a man. Elevated to nobility through my valor on the field. Commanding the most elite military order in the Triple Alliance.

And, most poignantly, married to Mahtlactli Omeyi Olin, the greatest midwife in the empire, chief surgeon for the Imperial House of Acamapichtli.

Not you, Olin. But—what is the word you used?—your homologue.