Dream Gathered #2
Ben collected his mender’s satchel and said, “You need rest. The mending you’ve had will make you drowsy, so that should help. But when you are up, you need to wear this sling.” He showed her a cloth and then laid it on the foot of the bed.
Karigan rose and grabbed her coat and boots to leave with him.
“Rider G’ladheon,” Zachary said, “we’ve more to discuss.”
Ben bowed and left, leaving Karigan to watch after him.
“Relax,” Zachary said. “Have a seat.”
She sat on his bed once more, feeling a little self-conscious.
He pulled up a chair for himself. “What happened to you last night?”
“We went to the Cock and Hen,” she said.
“If you hadn’t been in so bad a condition,” he replied, “I might have made a joke about tavern brawls. Surely that isn’t the case?”
“No, no. We came back to the castle and I went to bed, I guess, but then I was drawn to the ballroom. Shawdell was there wanting to play Intrigue.” She looked sharply at Zachary. “You are well?”
“Yes, entirely well. Maybe bruised, from a fall, as were others. I have a feeling you’re about to reveal why several of us woke up in the ballroom and one man lay dead.”
She told him the story at length, including as many of the details as she could recall.
His expression turned pensive. “It’s coming back to me, like part of a dream, you calling to me, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t reach you, no matter how hard I tried. I was frightened for you and determined to help, but I just could not move, wake up under the spell.”
She took his hand in hers. It was warm and his grip sure. “I know you did. Out of everyone I tried to awaken, only you responded at all.”
“Still, I do not think I can forgive myself,” he said, “for failing you.”
“There is nothing to forgive. Shawdell, even in his diminished state, was still powerful.” She squeezed his hand. “I regret not having been able to prevent the death of Sergeant Keen.”
“As you’ve said,” Zachary replied, “Shawdell was powerful. It is not on you, nor the man who killed him. We know who it was. The archer identified his own arrow. He will not be punished since he was not directly responsible for the sergeant’s death. He’s taking it hard.”
Karigan could only imagine.
“Can you tell me who injured you?” he asked.
“I’d rather not say. Shawdell used us all like puppets for his entertainment, and I don’t want this person to feel guilty for something they weren’t responsible for.”
Zachary nodded. “I understand. Let us hope Shawdell is forever stuck in that gray world.”
“I have a feeling,” she replied, “we won’t be hearing from him again.
I think that the one cord of energy, the one I cut, was a holdfast that allowed him to slip into our world.
It was attached here somehow, somewhere, but no longer.
The other one seemed to keep him anchored in the gray world where he could hide, or perhaps it held him against his will. Just a theory.”
She told him of the aftermath of the apparition of her aunt in the snow. He listened silently and sympathetically.
When she finished, he stroked his beard thoughtfully and said, “Westrion’s heart. Never have I heard of gods having hearts. This is all so unprecedented. Have you any idea where it is?”
“None at all,” she replied.
“There will have to be a formal report, excepting the part about the gods,” he said, “though it can wait. All this does not explain the mystery of how you ended up in my bed.”
How might it have been, she wondered, if he’d stayed in the bed with her? She warmed and cleared her throat and forced the thought from her mind. “I don’t know. I think I told Valstarian I wanted to go home and to bed. I...I didn’t specify which bed.”
“Not consciously, perhaps,” Zachary said with a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“Valstarian,” she muttered. God-being or not, he was a brat who deserved a tongue lashing when she saw him again. “Valstarian is a bit more mischievous than his sire.”
Her face ached and she was tired after Ben’s ministrations, or perhaps because of them.
He’d only used a touch of his ability to help her nose, but had apparently done a good deal of work on her arm to unnaturally accelerate her body’s healing response.
Usually he left a patient’s body to heal at a natural rate after an initial, minimal treatment to spur it along.
“You’re exhausted,” Zachary said. “I should let you rest. You are welcome to stay as long as you like.”
“Uh...I think I’d like to return to my own chamber.” Actually, she thought the opposite, but she didn’t want to give anyone additional gossip fodder. Artos would certainly be discreet, but who knew who had observed what?
He smiled. “Of course. Should I send someone to help you dress?”
“I’ll figure it out,” she said.
He nodded. “Very well. I have work to attend to, but don’t hesitate to call upon Artos in need.”
“Th-thank you.”
He bent down and cupped her chin. “Ben was right about your poor nose. It is swelling impressively.”
She frowned. That was just great.
He kissed her gently so as not to accidently hurt it. “I am so very glad you are safe. You are my heart.” And then he was off with Finder on his heels.
His words brought back what Aunt Stace had said about their hearts being true to one another, that should he lose her, it would destroy him. The reverse, she thought, would apply, as well. Losing him did not bear thinking about.
She was tremendously weary, and if she was to reach her own chamber, she had to get going before she was tempted to nest in Zachary’s bed.
She dressed best as she could with only one good hand.
It turned out the menders had cut the sleeves of her coat, shirt, and sweater so they fit more easily over her wounded arm.
She used the sling as ordered, stuffed her feet into her boots, and was sorry about the bloody pillow and linens she was leaving behind for Artos to take care of, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.
Telagioth’s sword had been left with her clothes and she took it into her good hand.
She desired to leave unnoticed, it potentially being perceived as inappropriate to leave a king’s personal quarters in the morning, but it was not to be.
Naturally the Weapons stood guard at the main entrance and she had expected them, but she hoped no one else would be around.
Unfortunately, the castle had awakened for the day and the corridor bustled with servants, officers, and administrators, several of whom wanted entrance to the king’s quarters.
“Oh, gods,” she said when she stepped through the door.
Weapon Erin leaned down and whispered in her ear. “What did you do to your nose?”
“I didn’t do anything to my nose.”
“It’s impressive.” Even more quietly she whispered, “You will explain to us how you bypassed us and got into the king’s rooms unseen. We would have known even if you had used your ability.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she told Erin.
As for the teeming corridor, she must look a mess in her rumpled and blood-stained civilian clothing, and her hair had escaped her braid and fluttered in her face. There was a good chance her rather rough appearance would keep people from assuming she was Zachary’s courtesan or anything like that.
She rushed down the corridor and did not look back.