Chapter 27
“How is he?” Ul asked as he took a seat at the healer’s table. He wasn’t brave enough to walk through the open bedroom door to see for himself.
The healer handed him a cup of water. “He is alive. And well enough to be moved if that is what you would like.”
He would very much like to go to his own room and bring Dawson with him; however, he fully expected someone to break in and stab him in his sleep. He also expected someone to go into the royal cave in search of non-existent eggs. Ul shook his head. “Has he woken?”
“No. I gave him the antidote, and then I inspected the site of the puncture and made sure there was no more of the spine remaining. I flushed the wound and stitched it closed while the guard pressed a rag to his mouth so his screams would not be heard.”
Ul closed his eyes. Dawson was quiet now, but that didn’t mean things were getting better. It just meant that his life hung in the balance.
“It’s very hard to accidentally be poisoned with the statue venom on land. Harder still to be stabbed in the calf, as humans do not handle the sea creatures with their legs.” She lifted her eyebrows and held his gaze, clearly exhausted from trying to keep Dawson alive.
“I am aware, and a trap has been set.” He finished the cup of water. “If it is okay with you, I will wait with him.”
“You don’t want to be using the same sheets as they are saturated with his sweat.”
That was a good sign. Dawson’s body was fighting the toxins. If they’d realized sooner, he could’ve gotten the cure sooner. That he had already lost his vision meant they were almost too late. “I doubt I will be sleeping.”
“Sire…” She inhaled, as if realizing she was not going to win this argument. “Let me gather you a spare blanket. You are lucky no one else has needed treatment tonight.”
“I suspect there will be plenty of sore heads tomorrow.”
“That I am prepared for. I do not have much of the statue poison antidote remaining.”
Ul stood. “Let us hope whoever has the poison is also running low.” How many statue fish had come through with the collapse? At least the cure was not reliant on the fish.
“I will make more of the antidote, but even if I start tomorrow, it will take several days to prepare.”
“I am aware. How many more doses do you have?”
“One. And I will give it to no one except you, as per the law.”
“Very well.” Ul nodded, hoping that he was not her next patient.
She picked up the candle and led him into the room. The guard stood by the bed, grim-faced as if he didn’t want to be blamed for the loss of the man who was the king’s mate. Ul would not hold him responsible when it was not his doing.
Even by candlelight, Dawson was pale and sweaty. The healer set the candle down on a small table and checked Dawson‘s pulse and then his eyes. “No change…which is not a bad sign. I will fetch the blanket for you.”
There was no room on the bed to lie with Dawson, as it was a narrow cot like every other bed in the healer’s work room. Two small rooms, each with two small beds, most people in the palace opted to be treated in their own chambers. However, sometimes there was a need to separate them.
When yellow tongue fever had reached the palace, the fever had slipped past the walls that protected the city and then the walls that protected the palace.
The first few people to show signs of the illness had been quarantined here, and when that failed to contain the fever, the royal children had not been allowed to leave their rooms. In the end, it didn’t matter; it seemed the fever was everywhere, rolling over the land like a mist, stealing the breath of the very young and the very old.
He hadn’t forgotten the stink of sweat-soaked sheets or the desperate hope that the person swathed in them would wake up. But he never expected to be standing there reliving that experience almost forty years later.
This isn’t the same.
Was it worse or better? He took the crown off and placed it on the other bed. Sickness didn’t care about rank or jewels. It didn’t care about prayers, or hopes, or dreams.
The healer handed him the blanket. “He is young and strong. I believe he will wake.”
Ul nodded, wanting to believe her, but he’d heard those words from other lips so many times before, and they had been lies. He draped the blanket around his shoulders as an extra cloak and sat on the stool next to the bed.
The guard charged with watching Dawson moved to the door. His own guard was in the main area, instead of outside, as that would draw questions. He rested his arm on the edge of the bed and stared at Dawson, the dark hollows under his eyes, and the way his skin seemed as pale as the sheets.
“I failed to keep you safe.” But then he hadn’t expected his cousin to stoop so low.
He let one tentacle slide beneath the sheet and wind around Dawson’s fingers.
He leaned in and whispered in Dawson’s ear.
“I’m sorry, and I will understand if you don’t want to stay.
” It had taken almost losing him to realize that he wanted Dawson to stay, and everything that meant.
The fear of losing had kept him from living, and it had taken him far too many losses to learn that lesson. “I want you to stay with me. As mine.”