“I am not ready, nor will I ever be, so if this procedure is one that you insist must occur, then I suggest it be done now before I change my mind,” Leyna sighed.
“I will explain what I am going to do while I get things started,” the doctor mumbled, bustling about behind Leyna to gather the things he needed. An ice-cold splash of something could be felt against her skin on the left of her back. She shivered reflexively from it. “I am applying an anesthetic salve over the area where the needle will be inserted. You might feel a little bit of a pressure, but what I need for you to do is remain perfectly still once the needle is in place. Too much movement could cause a lung to be punctured, and we want to avoid that.”
Nothing like stating the obvious. Doubt was creeping back over her at the thought of allowing this ridiculousness to continue. “Feolan, if you are not needed for anything specific back there, could you please come around and stand or sit by Maeri? We can continue our discussion. If you think you will be able to pay attention this time. It is the only way I am going to be able to bear this is – if I can distract my mind with something else.”
“You can go ahead,” the doctor said. “I only needed help getting things prepared. Just make sure there is a bowl here for me to set the line into.” Leaning forward, he directed the rest of his statement to Leyna, hoping to help in easing her mind about what he was about to do. “After I get the needle in, I will be drawing the fluid through it. If you start to feel sick, let me know immediately. It could be dangerous if you pass out during the procedure.”
“I am not exactly prone to fainting spells, but stranger things have happened. I will keep you informed if I sense one coming on,” Leyna grumbled. “Please, Feolan. Come join Maeri so we can start talking before he comes near me with that thing.”
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so relieved to see Feolan’s face. Doing as she asked, he knelt down on the floor beside Maeri, placing his hand lightly over Leyna’s clasped fingers. “I did hear what you were telling us earlier. A part of me was hoping I was not hearing you correctly, but I realize now that my mind was not playing tricks on me. If what you are saying is true though, then we need to rethink our strategy a bit.”
“My intentions are to break away from the original targets and find a way to get in closer to the new ones,” Leyna explained. It struck her that they couldn’t discuss the matter openly in front of the physicians. It was a sensitive topic, and although she doubted either of them were enemy spies, it was still safer to keep them as oblivious as possible. “If I am able to do that, then I will focus my efforts on finding the clues to where the body is. We need to either find it first, or the artifact, or somehow intercept one or the other after they have retrieved it. Waiting until they have their hands on anything though seems dangerous to me.”
“Your involvement at all with those people seems dangerous to me. What if they catch you snooping around?” Maeri asked, squeezing Leyna’s hand tightly in her own.
Leyna’s face contorted in a grimace. She tried to hold it in, but the feeling of the needle piercing through her skin was almost unbearable. The anesthetic did little to ease the pain. If it eased it at all, then she dreaded what any of this would feel like naturally. It was like a constant tugging and pulling sensation in the middle of her body, focusing around her left lung, overwhelming her with the need to cough.
“They will not catch me,” she wheezed. Desperate to mask the discomfort, she struggled to keep the conversation flowing, finding it hard to find the breath to form the words. “There is too much at stake… If Rohld is what I fear… it could be difficult… But I am the only person who can do this.”
“Kael could befriend them,” Feolan said, wincing at the sight of Leyna’s discomfort. He squeezed her hand tighter, hoping to ease her suffering. “That would keep you out of danger if you think this man might pose a threat to you and the mission.”
Focusing on the conversation was no longer possible. Her features were twisted in pain. She was afraid to move in fear of puncturing her lung with the needle, still aware of it pierced through her back. The sensation was more uncomfortable than her breathing had been throughout the day.
A desire to cough came over her, but she was afraid to give in to it. Her friends were staring at her, watching her every move, listening to every sound she made. They sympathized for her, and yet it was because of them that she was in this position. If they would’ve listened to her when she said she was fine. But even she knew her assurances had been lies. There was no denying the misery she’d been in from the illness slowly taking over her lungs. In another few hours, it would have rendered her unable to function in her mission. A few moments of discomfort were worth it in the end if she would be able to return to her work.
She felt the tug of the energy drawing the liquid from around her lungs. A morbid curiosity made her want to sneak a glance over to the bowl where the doctor had arranged the needle to flow, but the sickness in the pit of her stomach prevented her. There was no saying what it would look like, or how her mind would react to seeing it. If they feared a simple cough, something told her that vomiting was out of the question.
“How are you doing?” Maeri asked, peering sadly into Leyna’s stricken eyes. “Don’t hold your breath. It will make you need to cough more, and we don’t want that.”
At Maeri’s directive, Leyna realized with surprise that she’d stopped breathing. Her fear of the needle was too great. Subconsciously she found it hard to trust this shaman and his strange medical practices. Skilled or not, it seemed too easy for him to slip up. To move just right, or lose his focus, causing the needle to plunge deeper into her body. She shuddered to think on it, the sudden twitch of her muscles causing the needle to shift, her heart jumping in panic before she noticed the motion having been directed by the doctor. He was keeping a close eye on her. It was reassuring, even if only minimally.
Answering Maeri’s question wasn’t possible. There was no more air in her lungs to utilize for speech. It was a miserable sensation. And it was only getting worse. The need to cough was growing, intensifying with every second that passed. But she couldn’t. She needed to hold it in. To fight it.
The pity in the eyes of her friends was the worst. They had no idea the torture she was experiencing. It was like someone had driven their fist into her chest and was clenching her lungs, tightening their grasp slowly. Time crawled by, tears of pain moistening her lashes. She didn’t care anymore. What difference did it make if they saw her cry? It was impossible to think of anyone who wouldn’t shed a tear when there was a metal object pierced through their internal organs.
With the increased pain, she tightened her grip over Maeri’s hands, afraid she would crush them if she squeezed any more. Her knuckles were whitened with the strain, her lips pursed to hold back the urge to cough. From behind her she could hear the doctor shifting the bowl around. The needle wobbled slightly, her muscles tensed in preparation of the worst.
Racked with a fit of coughing, Leyna clung desperately to Maeri’s hands. She couldn’t hold it in any longer. The build-up in her chest was too much. She could feel the doctor’s hands moving over her back. They were cold to her bare skin, reminding her of her state of undress in front of so many people. The tugging increased momentarily, fueling her coughing, before finally starting to fade away.
She could hear the faint clink of the metal needle against the ceramic bowl Feolan had provided the doctor. It was out. She’d survived the procedure. Her head started to turn reflexively toward the sound, wanting to see with her own eyes that the needle was no longer near her, but she managed to divert her gaze back to her friends. She didn’t really want to know what was in the bowl, having been drained from her body. It was a disgusting thought which made her stomach turn.
Her back ached. The muscles felt as though she’d just run from Siscal to Dalonshire, her lungs drawing in air with more comfort than before. It was a miracle. A small one, but a miracle no less. She could feel
the familiar texture of a bandage being placed over her back, covering the entry wound to prevent infection. “Is it over? Please tell me it is over. May I cover myself properly?”
Feolan and Maeri glanced at one another uneasily. The silence was awkward, similar to the tension Leyna had sensed between the two when she first arrived. After several long moments, Maeri finally gave a soft smirk, releasing Leyna’s hand, stepping around behind her to assist with readjusting her chemise, diligently working to correct the disheveled mass of ribbons and laces that had originally held the bodice together. “Men. You would think you would be more skilled at the removal of women’s clothing,” she murmured.
“It is hard to keep up on the latest fashions and you do so like to leave us guessing,” Feolan chortled, averting his eyes while Maeri pulled at the bodice, squeezing Leyna back into it the way she’d been when she arrived. “Frankly, I am at a loss as to how you women can tolerate wearing such restrictive clothing. And so much of it. A shirt and a tunic is all that is necessary for me. Why do you insist on covering yourself with layers upon layers of fabric and undergarments?”
“We are like a present that is very well wrapped,” Maeri flirted. The tone of her voice was unmistakable. Playful. The way she’d talked to any boy while they were younger whom she’d found attractive, in hopes of winning their affection.
Leyna turned her head, gazing curiously at her friend. It was as if she were trying to make Feolan think about unwrapping her. She found it humorous, despite the moroseness of the situation. “I suddenly feel as though I am interrupting something,” she laughed quietly, rising from the stool. It hurt to move about, causing her to hunch forward uncomfortably, the pressure of the tight bodice adding to the pain. “Now that you have succeeded in sufficiently torturing me medically, perhaps I should be on my way…”
“Leyna, wait. There is still much we need to discuss. We were not finished,” Feolan coughed, clearing his throat. “You never answered with your opinion about having Kael step in for this part of the mission. It would keep you out of any direct risk.”
“Tell me Feolan,” Leyna replied quietly. The burning in her lungs had eased, allowing her to inhale deeply as she made her way around the room, coming to stand by the bed next to the physician’s assistant. Nodding to the man, she motioned for him to step away, taking his place at Thade’s side. “When did you last receive any form of correspondence from Kael? Does he remain in contact with you on a regular basis?”
“Truthfully? It has been nearly a year since he wrote. With your letters being more infrequent as well, we were of the assumption things were… uneventful.”
“On the contrary, things have been quite eventful. At least recently.”
“Do these events have anything to do with the ring you are wearing on your hand?”
Leyna pursed her lips together thoughtfully. She didn’t want to discuss that. But how could she explain anything without touching on it? It didn’t seem entirely necessary. Kael’s behavior had been extreme enough to distract them from almost anything. The question was in how much she was willing to reveal without first having confronted Kael. Going to Feolan with the information could be detrimental to him and his reputation, and if her fears were misplaced or premature, it would be very difficult to undo the damage she might cause.
“The ring is unimportant,” she said dismissively. “What you should be made aware of is that Kael is also being removed from Mikel’s home. His position is rather precarious at the moment and I really am at a loss as to how he intends to come back from it.”
“Removed? I was not even aware he was having any issues which could have caused that.”
“It is somewhat recent, honestly. He found himself in a bit of a strange position with Mikel’s wife.”
Distractedly Leyna pressed her fingers against Thade’s wrist, feeling for his pulse. Stable. It was reassuring, at the very least, while everything else had long ago spiraled out of her control and comfort.
“Position? What do you mean? What kind of position?”
“From what I hear, it involved her being on top.”
From under the finely curled ebon locks of Maeri’s hair, Leyna could see her pale complexion brightening to a soft pink around her cheeks. “Leyna, I am not used to hearing you speak that way.”
“No matter,” she said. “Mikel was the one to discover this. It created quite an uproar throughout the house, and made the lives of a few… miserable. To say the least. No one knows how long it has been going on, or if it extended beyond the one incident at all, but you can imagine the question alone would be enough to drive a man like Mikel over the edge. Kael will never fully recover from the consequences, but,” she exhaled slowly. “I intend to help him try.”
“That only heightens my curiosity,” Feolan stated. His gaze settled on Leyna, staring deeply into her eyes until she couldn’t hold it any longer, averting her gaze down to look sadly at Thade’s sleeping form. “It may have been presumptuous of me, but I suppose I had assumed Kael to be the one who wore the matching ring to that of yours. Is it not so?”
There was no good way to respond to his question. And ignoring it wouldn’t make it go away. She was backed into a corner now, unable to retreat. The truth would leave a sour taste in their mouths regarding the relationship she had with Kael, but it was the only thing he had done which could never be undone. With her help he might be able to redeem his soul, in part, from the taint of the magic, but his unfaithfulness to her could never be taken back. Of all the things she could tell them, it was the least damaging to Kael.
Slowly she lifted her eyes back to Feolan’s, nodding solemnly. “It is so. I will not deny it, but I beg you not to judge him for it yet. Since the incident, he and I have not had an opportunity to discuss it. So that I can hear his side of the story.” It wasn’t entirely true. But what could she say? That they should pardon his behavior because he said he was drunk and that made everything better? “I have faith there is good reason behind his actions. I merely…have to discover what it is.”
She couldn’t stand the pity in their eyes. She didn’t want to be pitied. What she wanted was to know the answers for herself. Her head was not clear enough to allow her to respond with the calm and control she wanted to maintain in their presence. An emotional breakdown could wait until she was again in the privacy of her own room.
“Leyna?”
The fragile sound of Thade’s voice demanded the attention of everyone in the room, Feolan and Maeri rushing over to stand beside Leyna at the bed. “Consul! By the gods, you are awake,” she smiled in relief, her voice quiet still from the discomfort. “That alone shows a miraculous improvement in your condition, I would say.”
“I thought I had been hearing your voice, but I believed myself to be dreaming.”
“If I have started appearing in your dreams, then surely you must still be sick,” Leyna chuckled, patting Thade’s hand lightly. “What terrible nightmares those must have been!” The usual vibrance of his silver eyes had dulled, the lids barely cracking open to let in the light of the room.
“Some of what I heard has me hoping it was a bad dream. I fear that is not so, however.”
“Then do not think on it,” Leyna smiled. Gently she wrung out the damp cloth on the nightstand next to where the doctors had been working, rubbing it over the clammy skin of Thade’s face. “There will be time to dwell on reality once you are healthy again. Until then, you need to save your strength and not waste it on trivial drama.”
At hearing Thade’s voice, the doctor hurried back over to the bed, pressing Maeri and Feolan off to the side to get in closer. Leyna maintained her soft hold on Thade’s hand, moving the cloth away with the other to set it down as the other young man came up from behind her, motioning for her to move. “If you would not mind, Milady. We have much still to do.”
Not giving her a chance to respond, the two men pushed their way in front of her, forcing her out of the chair. Stepping back, she could feel a faint pressur
e around her hand where she still held on to Thade, his fingers grasping for hers, but too weak to maintain their grip. “There is no need for them to leave. Can you not work around them?” he asked, his voice so quiet Leyna could barely hear it over the sound of the doctors’ curious back-and-forth mumblings.
“Lord Feolan can remain in case we need his assistance,” the doctor stated plainly. “I think it would be a good idea if the ladies retired for the evening.”
It took Leyna a few moments to realize her left hand was still slightly extended in front of her where it had been pulled away from Thade’s. Of course they would ask the ladies to leave. There was no telling what sort of things the doctors would need to do. What tests or procedures they would need to perform. If they were anything like the one she had experienced, it would not be something for a lady to witness. Especially if it required the removal of clothing the way they’d done to her.
Turning her eyes away, she felt her cheeks flushing with warmth, immediately overcome with guilt for the thoughts which passed through her mind. He was still so ill and all she could think of was removing his shirt. You are a promised woman! Not that it meant anything to her betrothed.
Bitterness was like poison to her mind. She didn’t remember ever having been that way before. Never had she allowed self-pity to reign over her thoughts, despite the number of good reasons she had, for all the terrible things the world had put her through. To let it in now felt unnatural. But how did one combat their own mind? A mind that had been betrayed in ways far more severe than anything she ever thought she would experience in her life.
It was the reason she had avoided relationships for so long. They were distracting. Worrying about other people only took her eyes off the goal. When she had no one to think about but herself, it was easy to throw herself into her work with the dedication she’d shown during the war, not caring what became of her or what anyone thought, so long as they showed respect. Now it was all about the way she presented her body. Whether she was attractive enough to hold the attention of the men she was forced to work with – or if she was attractive enough to hold the attention of her own husband-to-be. Had she known the truth before Kael asked her to marry him, things would have been different. She cared about him. Possibly even loved him. But she never would have opened her heart simply to be stabbed and torn into pieces, to bleed over the hands of the one holding the knife.
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 50
