Valiant

by Sarah McGuire

  Chapter 41

  “Hillock?”

  I looked up, glad for the breeze that cooled my wet cheeks. “Yes, Iden?”

  “The others have already returned from the castle. I must go soon.”

  “You can take us now.”

  The man sent by Will’s father had left earlier, whispering his name to me so that I could find him later at the castle. Somehow, Iden managed to pick Will and me up at the same time. We rode to the castle cradled in the crook of his arm.

  He did not try to pass under the castle’s gate. Instead, he reached over the castle wall, and set us down in the courtyard. Castle guard surrounded us in a moment, escorting us to Will’s old room. Will had stopped crying, but stared blankly ahead.

  His dirty face was tear streaked. The bandage around his foot had grown damp and lost its stiffness. Worst of all, his entire front was smeared with blood from my skirt.

  I knelt in front of him. “The doctor needs to look at your foot. And you need to change into clean clothes. I have to do the same. But I’ll be back, do you hear me?”

  He nodded. I tugged him to me one more time, pressing a kiss against his dirty forehead.

  I closed his door behind me and leaned back against the wall, grateful for the support. Covering my face with my hands, I tried to tell myself it would be better soon.

  The left side of my face throbbed. I looked down at my bloody hands and the great red stains on my skirts and felt the dampness on my shoulder where Will had wept until he had no more tears.

  How was I going to walk down the hall? I could barely stand.

  “Miss Gramton?”

  A nurse stood before me. “Come with me, dear.”

  She put an arm around my shoulder and led me to a new room, where she helped me undress and bathed me like a child. When she’d finished fastening my soft, loose gown, she called for the doctor. Once he was sure my jaw hadn’t been broken by the duke’s fist, he gave me a draught for the pain. As he turned to leave, I put a hand on his arm.

  “Please,” I said. “How is Lord Verras?”

  “He’s sleeping.”

  That wasn’t enough. “I saw the cut. I didn’t think it was deep, but now I’m not sure—”

  “It wasn’t deep, though it did cut into muscle. The only concern now is infection.” The doctor smiled. “You did a fine job, stopping the blood. I’m not worried for him.” He gestured toward the bed. “You should sleep as well.”

  “I have to see Will.”

  “I’ll walk you there.” He held out his arm as if I were a fine lady. By the time we reached Will’s room, I could barely stand.

  Will lay huddled on his bed, clean, with new bandages on his foot. His cheeks were wet.

  I sat beside him and he curled into me, his head on my belly. I swept his hair back from his forehead, the way his mother had, until he fell asleep.

  The last thing I remembered was a nurse tucking a pillow behind me and covering me with a blanket.

  “King Eldin wishes to see you if you’re able, Miss Gramton.”

  The nurse helped me slip from beneath Will, who stirred but settled back into sleep.

  As soon as we were in the corridor, I asked, “What time is it?”

  “Past dark,” she said. “You slept most of the day.”

  “And the king? How is he?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like his hands. The doctors were able to set the right one, but I don’t know about the left.”

  She led me to the king’s private chambers. King Eldin lay in bed, resting against a bank of pillows. His bandaged hands lay on top of the blankets, and blood stained the bandage on his left hand. Lord Cinnan stood beside the bed, while a doctor and a nurse sat in the corner.

  I curtsied. “Your Majesty.”

  The king looked chagrined, then tilted his head toward Lord Cinnan, who drew a chair beside the bed for me. “I’m afraid I am much too small for my title.”

  King Eldin looked very different from the first time I had seen him. There were deep circles under his eyes and he seemed a little feverish. Yet there was a steadiness to his gaze that I hadn’t seen before.

  “I think, Your Majesty, that your title fits you better than it ever did.”

  “Don’t flatter me!” There was a touch of the old petulance in his voice, and I sat straighter in my seat. “I don’t know what to do with myself, you see.” He leaned forward. “What if I ruin things all over again?”

  “I saw you stand strong before the duke, Your Majesty. I saw you refuse to give in. You acted like a true king. You can do it again and again and again.”

  He smiled, just a little.

  Lord Cinnan drew near. “King Eldin wished to know how we should reward the champion of Reggen.”

  I sighed. “I feel I am much too small for that title.”

  The king laughed.

  “As champion,” said Lord Cinnan, “you were promised the princess’s hand in marriage.”

  “If I had a younger brother—” began the king.

  “Perhaps you would like to be appointed the royal tailor?” suggested Lord Cinnan.

  “I’ve been told that such an arrangement was indelicate.”

  King Eldin shrugged. “I have seen my person, Miss Gramton.” He studied his hands for a moment, his face sober. “I do not believe I would be a source of temptation.”

  In a heartbeat, I remembered Galen, and the flash of humor in his eyes when he told me not to discuss whether I’d ever been tempted.

  Lord Cinnan’s voice pulled me back to the present. “Lord Verras told us that you are—without family. The champion of Reggen should not be left destitute.”

  “Your Majesty, I hate sewing.”

  King Eldin was surprised. “But you have such talent.”

  “My father loved sewing more than anything in the world. He loved his sewing, more than anything in the world. Why would I love my competition?”

  “Ah,” said King Eldin, and I saw that he understood. I wondered what sort of man his brother had been. “We shall see you married, then, to a nobleman worthy of your courage. If Galen were not already betrothed, I would have you marry him.”

  I nearly cried.

  “If it is mine to ask, Your Majesty, I would like to have a place in the castle, and to come and go as I please. I should like to be given to myself, and not handed off to some nobleman.”

  King Eldin’s eyes grew wide.

  “For at least a year, couldn’t I have a little corner somewhere? I might become so cheerful that I don’t mind picking up a needle and thread again.”

  Lord Cinnan stood. “Thank you, Miss Gramton. The king will reward you soon. Now you should rest.”

  He walked me to the door.

  I had to ask. “How is Lord Verras? The last time I saw him—”

  “Why don’t you see for yourself?” Lord Cinnan motioned to a guard. “Take the champion to Lord Verras’s room. If he is awake, she may see him.”

  I followed, almost dizzy with the worry and hope of seeing Galen again. The guard knocked quietly, then leaned in to speak to someone inside. He held the door open.

  Galen was propped up in his bed, his head resting back against the wall. He smiled and I released the breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding.

  “Saville.” His voice was strong and steady. “Come, sit.”

  His shirt was open at the throat and I could see the bandages across his chest and shoulder underneath. They were mostly white, but I thought I saw spots of red bleeding through.

  “Even you would have approved of the doctor’s work. He put in a row of even stitches.” He pulled back the left side of his shirt, revealing the bandages underneath.

  I was right: there was blood.

  “Saville.”

  He’d bled all over my gown and I’d hardly blinked, but somehow seeing the blood on those bandages—

  “Saville!”

  I finally met his gaze.

  “You’ve gone pale.”

  I w
anted to rest my head on his uninjured shoulder and feel his arm steal around me. If I couldn’t do that, I wanted to act as though I didn’t mind that his falcon bride would come soon.

  I could do neither.

  I thought of how I must look to him: a girl with hair that barely reached her shoulders, eyes red from crying, face swollen and bruised. A girl who blushed and grew pale and blushed again.

  “Saville?”

  And then I was talking, just to say anything. “Will’s father is dead. I waited with Will at the fountain as the captives came into the city.”

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  I shook my head. “A man came to us.… Will’s father sent him.”

  Galen closed his eyes. “How is he?”

  “He’s asleep. I stayed with him.”

  “You need to rest, too.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do anymore!” It sounded defiant, but how it hurt to say. I didn’t mind Galen telling me what to do. At least, I didn’t mind fighting about it. And I knew I was being unreasonable and childish.

  Galen held my gaze, even though he was confused and weary and more than a little angry. Finally, he said, “I never could tell you what to do. Why would I start now?”

  For one moment, I understood why the duke had hidden his heart.

  I looked down at Galen, saw the curve of his neck disappearing into the bandages, noticed how still he lay. I’d seen illness press the Tailor into bed the same way.

  It gave me just enough safety to risk everything. Because, once you do it, you can keep doing it again and again and again.

  “I love that you let me ask questions, but still tell me to be quiet when you’re thinking.”

  The sudden change startled him, but I saw something spring to life behind his eyes. I leaned forward and gestured toward the bedside table, already messy. “I love that you don’t care whether your desk is covered with papers or books. I love that you were the only person brave enough to carry Will inside the gates, and that you stood between us and the crowd. I love that you would still swim in the Kriva. I love that you didn’t know what to do when I thanked you that first day in your rooms.”

  Galen looked completely bewildered. I leaned even closer, and dropped a featherlight kiss on the corner of his eye, the place that crinkled when he smiled.

  He grew still, so still.

  “I love the way you look at me, Galen Verras.”

  I put my hand to his face. His jaw fit perfectly in my palm. I kissed him again, ever so lightly, on his mouth, and pulled away so that he could see me, swollen face and overflowing eyes.

  Crying shows your soft spot, that piece of your heart the armor can’t cover.

  Just this once, I wouldn’t hide it.

  I looked Galen full in the face, and found the courage I needed. “I love you.”

  His hand closed around my wrist. Then he turned his head to press a kiss against my palm. But he was sad, so very sad. “I—”

  I shook my head. “It’s my turn. You said it earlier, and I won’t let you be the only one. I love you. I know that you’ll be going to your falcon lady or that she’ll be coming here, and it makes me wish there was still a war with the giants so I could just … hit something. I wish I could have fought with you tonight and walked away after it.” I swallowed. “But that would have been too easy.”

  Then I twisted my wrist in his grasp, just as he and done to me. He was weak enough that he had to let me go. I stood and stepped away from the bed.

  “Saville.” Galen looked at me like I was velvet and silk all in one, like he never wanted to stop looking. “I wish …”

  I took another step back. “You are the finest man I’ve ever known. You are the story that was true, even if you aren’t mine. I wanted you to know. I wanted you to hear me say it.”

  I turned and left, knowing he wouldn’t be able to follow.

  Chapter 42

  Still, I listened for Galen as I walked to Will’s room. I listened for his footsteps. For his voice.

  I didn’t hear a thing.

  “The boy kept asking for you,” the nurse told me when I reached Will’s room. “The doctor gave him another draught, so he’ll sleep a while yet.”

  I sat on the bed beside him. He stirred and turned toward me. His mouth was half-open, and he snored softly.

  The nurse blew out one of the candles and reached for the other.

  “Please leave it,” I told her. If Will woke, I wanted there to be some light.

  The dim was comforting and Will’s presence was comforting, so when the tears started, I didn’t try to stop them.

  I’d thought Galen would come after me. I didn’t know it until then.

  I told myself I was glad I’d told him everything. And I was.

  I told myself he was doing the honorable thing. And he was.

  I still felt as if I’d been broken open. I fell asleep clinging to the memory of his jaw against my palm, his lips under mine.

  How different it was to walk through the castle the next day! Servants I didn’t know nodded to me. Those who spoke to me called me Miss Gramton, and whispers followed me like the train of a gown.

  I found Lord Cinnan in the corridor outside the king’s suite.

  “How is the king?” I asked.

  “He insisted on meeting with me this morning. He dictated messages for his allies, explaining all that had happened. I have already given them to riders. I’m proud of him.” He paused as if weighing something. “He asked to see you.”

  I waited, knowing he hadn’t said everything he intended.

  After a moment, Lord Cinnan whispered, “The doctors are worried.…”

  “Can I see him.”

  Lord Cinnan nodded and opened the door. “Your Majesty, Miss Gramton is here.”

  “Good! I would like to talk to her about a coat.…”

  I glanced at Lord Cinnan, who shook his head. Princess Lissa sat beside her brother’s bed. She nodded at me as I joined her, her face drawn.

  King Eldin was flushed. His eyes shone with fever and looked all the brighter for the shadows that hollowed his cheeks.

  He squinted up at me. “I forgot, Miss Gramton. You don’t sew anymore, do you?”

  Sky above. “I might make an exception for you, Your Majesty.”

  “What do you suggest? And why didn’t you bring your fabric?”

  I looked down at the bed, uncertain, and saw the king’s left hand. The stained bandages smelled like meat that had been left too long in the sun.

  I looked at Princess Lissa, horrified.

  “Don’t feel bad, Miss Gramton,” said King Eldin. “I forgive the mistake. Just bring the fabric next time.” For a moment, his eyes cleared, and he whispered. “I’m glad you came.”

  “I am, too.” I forgot to keep my voice even. “Don’t worry about the coat, Your Majesty. I’ll begin right away.”

  “The doctors will have to take his hand,” said Lord Cinnan, once we’d left the king. “They’re preparing right now. If they can catch it fast enough …”

  I nodded.

  “Lord Verras is healing well, though,” said Lord Cinnan. “He’s still sleeping and shows no sign of fever.”

  I wondered how much he knew.

  “I need to leave the castle for a little. I want to see Volar.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You shouldn’t walk alone in the city. You might be mobbed yet. But … you may walk along the ramparts with Princess Lissa and me this afternoon. She must give Volar a message from the king.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed.

  “You are easily pleased,” he said. “The king mentioned you this morning as he dictated orders. His fever was not so strong then. There’s a set of rooms on the east side of the castle. You can see the Kriva and the East Guardian from its balcony. You’ll be moved there today.”

  “And Will? He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  “He can move to a small room adjoining yours.”

  “Thank you. It’s
very kind of the king.”

  “Don’t be silly. It would be exhausting to calculate what is owed right now. That sort of arithmetic would break the mind of the best mathematician.”

  Two hours later, Lord Cinnan, the princess, and I stood on the ramparts over the gates. The soldiers shifted uneasily. But the sadness I’d felt in the castle rolled from me.

  I loved the wind up on the wall, the way it tugged at my hair and my skirt. It was like a child begging to be noticed. And what a world to be noticed! The Kriva, with its throaty murmur, swept along below us, and the giant camp no longer terrified me.

  I leaned against the wall, hands on the rough stone, and studied the camp. The duke’s tent had been removed, as had the pens. But something else had changed. I supposed it was the way the giants moved. There was no tension, no readiness to leap into a fight. The giants walked between rows of tents the way people walked down the streets of Reggen, arms swinging, stopping to talk with friends.

  And there was singing. I couldn’t understand the words, but the melody reminded me of the land Volar had described: mountains rising out of the ocean, stately halls carved into mountainsides, silver in the moonlight.

  At Lord Cinnan’s signal, one of the guards blew a complex series of notes on a horn. Soon, Volar strode toward us and stopped at the gates. We were level with his forehead.

  Princess Lissa curtsied. “I greet you, King Volar, in the name of King Eldin. My brother wished to come himself, but he is not well enough.”

  Volar nodded solemnly. I walked away so that they could speak in private. I didn’t mind. It gave me time to listen to the giants’ song. It had changed, and I would have sworn by the ebb and rush of the melody that it was about the sea.

  I was so engrossed that Lord Cinnan had to call me back.

  “I was listening to the song,” I explained. “It’s lovely. Is it about the sea, Volar?”

  He nodded. “The ships that travel the sea, yes. How did you know?”

  “I could hear it.” I leaned over the edge of the wall.

  Volar thought a moment. “Would you like to hear more? I will take you to them.”

  “I’m not sure that would be wise, Miss Gramton,” said Lord Cinnan. “If anything should happen … The city is still distrustful.”