Ignorance left me helpless. Still I decided to try anyway, I already knew magic could be done without words; it was simply much harder, requiring perfect focus. I sent my attention to the rib that had pierced the lung and imagined it sliding away, back to its normal location, meeting the other part of itself. At first I wasn’t sure if anything was happening, but then it began to move, sending waves of pain through me. I clenched my teeth, fighting a scream, but then I didn’t have enough air to scream anyway. I nearly passed out by the time it was back in its place, and then I was horrified to feel it sliding back as soon as I took my attention from it. Fighting against fear I held on grimly and tried to envision it joining the other bone, becoming whole again. At last it stayed, and I slowly relaxed, letting go of it.
Next I tackled the problem of my punctured lung. It took me long minutes but finally I felt that the hole in it was sealed, though that still left me with a lot of blood to deal with. Unsure how to get rid of the blood I decided to seal off the arteries still leaking blood into my chest cavity, that was easier. That done, I considered my lung again, and I tried using the aythar to inflate it a bit. That sent me into painful spasms as my body began to cough, heaving to try and get the blood out. The other ribs were splintered and sent stabbing pains throughout my body.
Ok, ribs first then, I thought. One by one I eased my other ribs back into place, trying to fuse each with its estranged parts. The agony was excruciating and I could feel my strength fading. At last I thought I had them all in place and began to consider the task of coughing up the blood that still choked me. There should be a chamber pot under the edge of the bed. I wondered if I would reach it in time.
Steeling myself I sat up and got out of bed. Well that’s what was supposed to happen, when I sat up my head made its own issues known. The room reeled about me like a drunken sailor after a three day binge. My attempt to get out of the bed ended with me falling to the floor, still tangled in the sheets. The coughing started the moment I sat up, not having the consideration to wait for me to be prepared, and blood was everywhere.
Naturally enough Penny woke up to find me lying on the floor; coughing and bringing up volumes of... well you get the idea. It wasn’t pretty, and the coughing was bad enough I thought it might be enough to finish me off. I felt her hands on my shoulders as the spasms shook me. Long minutes passed while I sputtered and choked, before at last I was able to stop. Each breath threatened to send me back to coughing but I held myself still.
Lying there I looked up to see Penny crouched over me, stroking my hair and shoulders. Her nakedness surprised me, but I didn’t care, all that mattered were her hands on my skin. Finally I managed to choke out a few words, “You look awful,” I said. The words caught her attention and her eyes snapped to my face. Until then I think she must have thought I was dead, or nearly so. A sudden involuntary laugh started from her then turned into a sob.
“I thought you were gone already.” she said in a small voice. Something about the way she had her head positioned told me she couldn’t see me, and I realized the room was black. Someone was pounding on the door.
“You’d better answer that, before Dorian breaks the door down,” well I would have said that, but it was still too hard to speak, I managed to croak, ‘the door’ and I think she understood me. Soft lips touched my shoulder, then she was gone.
Penny opened the door to find a wild eyed Dorian standing outside. She could see Rose standing beside him. As the light from the hallway spilled over her Dorian stepped back and turned his head aside. “It sounded like you needed help,” he said, seeming bashful of a sudden. The light spilling from the hallway had revealed Penelope’s state of undress.
She was embarrassed but had no time to indulge her modesty so she merely stepped behind the door. “He’s coughing up blood. Rose would you mind fetching towels and water? Dorian you can stay outside.”
Dorian was already facing away when Rose answered, “I’ll have them brought up immediately. Dorian will make sure no one enters so leave the door unbarred for me.” Then she was gone.
Closing the door Penny stepped to the side table and lit the lamp sitting there, the candles were gone, burnt to nubs earlier. In the warm light she could see Mordecai, still lying on the floor, dark splotches of blood dotting the floor around him. He was pale and his face was the image of death itself but his breathing seemed easier. Crouching next to him she tried to move him away from the mess on the floor, then she straightened the sheets, replacing them on the bed. By some miracle they were largely unstained.
Rose entered a few minutes later, carrying a bucket and several large towels, Dorian stood at the door holding an assortment of rags and a second bucket. He kept his eyes averted until Rose had emptied his arms and then he shut the door. Together the two women eased Mordecai onto his side, placing a small pillow under his head so that he could breathe easier. Then they cleaned the blood from the floor as much as possible.
At one point the two women shared a glance and Penny was overcome with a feeling of gratitude. This is what true nobility looks like, she thought, looking upon Rose Hightower. She had never known a noblewoman of such resolve and kindness. “I will not forget what you have done for me,” she said. She knew not what else to say.
“You’ve got blood all over you,” Rose answered, lifting a towel to daub a spot away from Penny’s face. “Do you need my help cleaning him up?”
“No, thank you, I can handle it,” Penny answered her.
Once Rose had left the room she took the second bucket and some of the rags that were still clean and began carefully sponging Mordecai’s body to remove the stains on his skin. It took a while and throughout it all he kept his eyes shut, too weak to protest. After he was as clean as she could manage she went to the mirror and began working on herself.
A few hours later I woke, lying on the cold floor with a small blanket over me. I might have shivered from the cold but Penny was pressed against my back and her warmth had kept the chill from me. I tried to sit up again and the world swayed around me. Another cough started, but I managed to reach the chamber pot this time and avoided making more of a mess.
A warm hand fell upon my arm, “Let me help you back into the bed.” I thought I could manage on my own, but that proved false. Penny wound up lifting me by main force, with her arms under mine. Agony ran through me as my ribs took some of the strain and it gave me strength to help her with my legs. Finally I was in the bed and she drew the covers over me.
“Penny you don’t have to do all this for me.” I spoke to her as she leaned over me, her dark hair falling about her face in a shower of curls. My power of speech amazed even myself. She looked at me oddly then, eyes wide, her face close to mine. Time stopped for a moment then, held in its course by a power I could not understand, till at last she brought her face to mine and kissed me softly.
“I will do as I please Mordecai Eldridge, and neither death, nor dukes, nor doctors will keep me from you.” I might have cried then, but I was far too weak and my body was dry. A thousand responses ran through my mind, but I had neither time nor strength to say them.
“Thank you,” I answered simply, and I closed my eyes again as she slipped into the bed behind me. I wanted to talk to her, to explain many things but instead I fell asleep, safe within her embrace.
I awoke hours later, near dawn. I had somehow managed to roll onto my side, which must have been painful but I didn’t remember doing so. I could feel Penny breathing softly against my neck. Of all my childhood fantasies to think this would happen and I am completely unable to take advantage of it, I thought to myself. I shifted a tiny amount, just enough to give me a better feel of her against me. I’ll admit it, even near dying I’m a dirty dirty man.
After a while I became aware of her looking at me. She had woken quietly and was avoiding moving. She must think I’m still asleep, I realized. “I’m still alive,” I said.
“I know,” she whispered into my ear. Half dead as I was it still sent
electric tingles down my spine. She kept her arms around me, and for my part I didn’t complain. Thirty minutes went by and I found I had to ruin the moment.
“Penny...”
“Yes?” she replied.
“I need water, my throat is so dry I can hardly swallow, and then I think I need some privacy for a moment.” My bladder was finally making its demands known, despite loss of blood and lack of fluids. She brought water and I drank an amount that was probably unwise given the state of my stomach. Then she looked at me.
“So how are we going to do this?” she said.
I knew what she meant, “We? I may be an invalid but I’ll be damned before I let you do that with me.” That led to an argument, which I lost, but we finally worked out a compromise. I draped a sheet over myself and stood near the window, leaning against the wall for support. She stayed a few feet behind me, ready to catch me if I started to fall.
Several embarrassing minutes later I was back in the bed. I thought surely at this point she would dress and leave. She still had a job after all. I was wrong; she slid back under the covers next to me. I thought of her kiss the night before and wished dearly I was in better health. The wish fairy ignored me.
We didn’t sleep then, instead we rested, wide awake. Well I did anyway. I’m not sure what her reason for being in the bed was at that point. “The doctor said you would die,” she told me.
“I hope he’s wrong more often then,” I replied. “I think I would have, but I managed to fix some of it last night.” That got her attention, and I spent the next few minutes explaining what I had gone through during the night. After a bit I had a question of my own.
“I think Rose left you a night dress, I saw it on the table,” I hated myself for mentioning it.
“She did.” It was a statement.
“Why aren’t you wearing it?” Stupid never dies, I must be getting better to have regained my idiocy so soon.
“Are you afraid you’ll do more damage to my reputation?” she asked.
That made me tense up, but she still seemed relaxed, “Yes. Wait no, that’s not what I mean.” My general lack of eloquence that always seemed to appear around Penny was back in full force.
“He may have taken my innocence, but I will always have this time, even if only because you were too weak to escape me.” Her voice measured equal parts anger and sadness.
“No he didn’t Penny. I’ve been trying to tell you for days.” I said.
“What? How would you know something like that?” she replied, starting to become angry. I worried this was about to turn into a repeat of our conversation of the previous day. If only I could show her, to get past all the misspoken meanings and misunderstandings. Then an idea hit me. Looking back now, if I had known of the dangers I would not have tried it, especially given my inexperience.
“Let me show you Penny. I think I know a way, do you trust me?” I gave her my most emphatic look, unsure how she would react.
“Magic?” she asked.
I nodded thinking she would surely refuse, but she didn’t.
“Ok, what do I do?” she answered. I rolled over then, which made me ache all over, but I wanted to see her face. Being a complete novice in bed I hadn’t thought of how our arms and legs would work in that situation. Naively I had thought she would simply scoot back a bit to give us room to face one another without having to touch, as in the innocent days of our childhood. Instead she slipped one leg beneath mine and draped her arm across my waist. Thankfully the covers were still drawn, since I was starting to feel well enough that the intimacy caused me to feel a stirring below.
I did my best to suppress those thoughts and took a deep breath. The ache that caused did an excellent job of returning my mind to business. I looked into her eyes before she said, “What next?”
“I need to touch your face for a moment, I think that will be enough.” She nodded at me. I had only learned one word in Lycian regarding the mind, but I thought it might be enough to help me do what I intended. “Mirren,” I said, stretching my mind out to touch hers. I raised my hand to touch her face, but she didn’t wait for that, and as I moved she leaned in, kissing me suddenly.
The world vanished. The sensation was similar to what had happened to me with Marc’s horse but different. There was no sudden plunge as I had experienced then, and I didn’t leave my own body. Instead our minds melted together, co-mingling our thoughts and feelings. I could sense her body in much the same was as my own, but it was still ‘hers’, unlike what had happened before. In one sense it was less complete, yet it was infinitely gentler.
Words were no longer effective, in our hearts words are merely a veil that lies thinly over the reality of our experience. Instead I relived the memory of what had happened that night, what I had done, how I had found her, and the emotions flooded through me as if it were happening again. In turn she showed me her own memories, before and after, when she had awoken. The pain she had gone through afterward made me ashamed to have done so little to find her and explain, but I felt her telling me to let go and forgive myself. Her own feelings had shifted from the panic and terror of the experience to a warm acceptance of my part in it. In particular her mind kept returning to the point at which I had laid her gently within her bed that night. She was tasting it, feeling the emotion that had run through me as I looked at her that night, lying frail and beautiful in her bed.
Vaguely I was aware that we were still kissing. Throughout the entire experience we had remained locked in that embrace, though we hardly moved, except to breath. I could feel her awareness as well, and her heart quickened. Excitement built within me, such that I almost lost my link to her, but I adjusted quickly... I didn’t want to lose her yet. I could sense the changes in her and she knew mine. The stirring in me before had grown beyond my control yet she did not shrink away.
She could feel the aches in my body as surely as my emotions. Carefully she eased me over on to my back and worked her way up over me. The foolishness of what we were doing made me hesitate for a moment, but I felt her mind then, serious and intent. I need this Mort, I need to erase the fear he left in me. There weren’t words, but that was the meaning that crossed between us.
I cast my doubts aside and what followed was both painful and joyous. Ironically I felt more pain than she did, which might have made a fine joke if there were ever anyone we could tell it to. The next hour was one I am sure neither of us will forget, for we kept our minds entwined throughout, until at last I became too tired and sleep overtook me.
Chapter 16
The various rulers and lords of men, kings and nobles alike have long had an uneasy affiliation with wizards and mages. They cannot easily ignore such power in the hands of an individual. Such men of power are a duel edged blade, as likely to cut the hand of the lord who wields them as to destroy their foes. Wise rulers are wary of this, for they cannot easily do without the advantages a wizard affords, yet they must always be suspicious of one with the power to kill with a word.
~Marcus the Heretic,
On the Nature of Faith and Magic
The sun was shining through the clouds as Timothy worked, weeding the garden near the kitchen yard. It was a small garden, nowhere near large enough to serve all the people that the castle fed each day. Most of the food was brought in on carts. Instead the cook used this garden to grow herbs and spices, and small things that were best fresh. Timothy frequently got the task of making sure it was weeded properly, but the cook did all the harvesting himself, when he needed something from it.
Most of the other boys living in and around Lancaster Castle disliked weeding, but Timothy never minded the job. He had lost his mother while still a baby and only had a few friends among the children nearby, so he often had too much free time, even with the tasks he was given. The garden was full of growing things, and dirt, not to mention all manner of insects and small creatures, like frogs. He quite liked frogs. Since there was no rush for him to finish the cook never complained if he took hour
s to complete the task, so long as he didn’t damage the plants. So he weeded, and talked to frogs, weeded some more and then got distracted by a grasshopper. Small boys are easily distracted and Timothy was no exception.
He looked up as a shadow passed over him, Father Tonnsdale stood there, smiling at him. “There you are! I’ve been looking high and low for you Timmy!”
“I was right here the whole time Father! Cook likes me to weed and he don’ mind if it takes a while,” he gave Father Tonnsdale his best smile.
The older priest tousled his hair, smiling at him, “It’s alright boy, I just needed you to fetch something from town for me.”
“Sure Father, I can finish this later,” Timothy replied, dusting himself off.
Father Tonnsdale gave him directions to a house in town that had what he needed. He told Timothy it would be a small but heavy package, possibly jars. He was to fetch it straight away and bring it back to the chapel.
“What’s in the package?” Timothy asked curiously.
The old man gave him a conspiratorial wink, “It's a secret, a surprise for Mordecai when he gets better. Something like an heirloom, he’ll be glad when he gets it. Just remember, don’t tell anyone till after you get back to me with it. We can tell him together tomorrow if he’s better.”
Excited Timothy took off at a run, full of the endless energy of youth. He liked Mordecai and had worried that he might not recover from his fall. Being given something he could do to help made him feel better.
***
The morning after the hunt Devon found himself waiting outside the Duke’s chambers. He had been summoned at dawn and although he had arrived within a quarter of an hour he had been waiting for at least an hour since then. It was a sign of the good Duke’s displeasure that he left him in the sitting room for so long and Devon knew it.
The Blacksmith's Son Page 16
