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Authors: Jacquelyn Frank

Trusted (19 page)

BOOK: Trusted
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“My king, we must give her this medication, to dull her senses so I may stitch her hand. The bleeding there had subsided enough that I can quickly work my needle in. But it will be added pain and she must not flinch.”

“What is it?” the king asked.

“Essence of heather poppy.”

“Very well, give it to her,” the king said.

“Perhaps it would be better coming from your hand to her lips,” the medic said, handing the spoon full of liquid to the king.

Garrick took the spoon and eased it to Sarea’s lips. “Drink, sweet,” he encouraged her. “Take it all.”

She resisted him, confusion addling her. But he soothed and calmed her and got her to open her mouth. She swallowed down the bitter potion, choking the entire time.

“There’s a good girl,” Garrick praised her. Then he petted her head and hair until she finally fell asleep.

Chapter Seventeen

When Sarea awoke, it was to the sun streaming hard into her eyes. Her mouth felt incredibly dry and she could feel pain, incredible pain, in her chest and her hand. She lifted her hand to try and see it, to try and figure out why it was hurting so badly. But suddenly a male arm crossed her body and held her arm down so she couldn’t look at it.

“Rest easy, sweet. You mustn’t move your hand.”

Garrick? In bed with her?

She turned her head and, sure enough, the king was sitting in bed next to her, his back propped with pillows and his legs crossed at the ankles. He was fully dressed, which she found relieving, until she realized she was naked beneath the covers. Again she tried to move, and again he stayed her. Which was a good thing, because the minute she tried to move her shoulder a horrible pain went lancing through her breast and chest.

And that was when she remembered. She remembered that wicked blade, coated red with Isobol’s blood, stabbing into her body.

“Isobol!” she tried to scream, but it only came out as a weak croak.

The king exchanged a look with someone at the end of the bed…Jesso.

“Sweet Sarea, please just rest,” he encouraged her.

That was when she knew. Knew that her friend was dead. That she had died trying to protect her from an assassin’s blade.

She began to weep.

“Easy,” the king tried to soothe her. “It’s all right.”

“How can it be right when my best friend is dead?” she asked, sobbing harder. So hard that it hurt.

“It is true. Isobol is dead,” the king said firmly. “But you must remain calm and still lest you damage yourself and end up dying as well. I do not think that was what Isobol would have wanted.”

The words quieted her. Isobol wouldn’t have wanted that at all. She had given her life to save Sarea. To die now would make it a worthless sacrifice.

“She died trying to protect me,” she told Garrick, her eyes filling again, but this time the tears fell quietly.

“She was a true heroine, and I owe her everything. We will see to it she has a glorious place in the afterworld. The Joyous One will welcome her with open arms and treat her as if she were his daughter,” Garrick said.

Sarea nodded, grateful that he would do that for her friend.

“Dakon…”

“He has gone to bed,” Garrick said. “He was injured as well and needs to rest.”

“He saved my life.”

“I know. And for that I am eternally in his debt.”

“Did you catch who did this?” she asked.

“No. But you should not be worrying about any of this. The Trusted are seeking the attacker and standing here to protect us.” He nodded to Jesso and Killium. All of the men had changed out of the costumes and were in their normal clothing. Sarea lifted her uninjured hand and saw it was still dusted with gold. It seemed almost garish in the clean sunlight.

She looked at Garrick again.

“Of all the ways I imagined being naked in bed with you, this one never occurred to me.”

“I confess I had similar thoughts,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It saddened her to see him so troubled.

“Am I still to be your queen?” she asked, not quite knowing why she did.

“Of course, my darling. Why wouldn’t you be?”

“I feared this might make you change your mind.”

He was sober as he said, “The thought occurred to me, but only as concerns your safety. I thought…if being my queen means sacrificing your life, I should not have you. But…I find I cannot do without you so, I must be selfish and work doubly hard to see to your protection instead.”

She exhaled long and slow. “I am glad to hear it,” she said. “For I find I cannot do without you either.”

He smiled at that and this time it reached his violet eyes, making them appear quite beautiful in the sunlight.

“Then you must get well…for winter’s feast is only two shona away.”

“I shall do my best,” she promised him.

“Very good. Now, is there much pain? We have essence of poppy here to dull it if you need to.”

“No. It is tolerable,” she said. “But I should like some water or wine.”

“Jesso, fetch some honeyed wine,” Garrick said.

“Surely Fere can do that,” Sarea protested. “Jesso is not my maidservant.”

“For today I am,” Jesso said as he fetched a cup of wine and brought it over to Garrick.

“As am I,” Garrick said. He eased an arm beneath her shoulders and lifted her to help her drink. She cried out softly from the pain, but insisted he continue when he would have stopped. She drank down half the cup of wine thirstily, and then relaxed back into the pillows.

“Haven’t you a city to run?” she asked.

“Easily done from a bed as from a chair in the council chambers. Now…I would have you sleep. Rest and get well.”

“I’ve only just awakened. I would much rather watch you work.”

“Well, perhaps the affairs of state will bore you enough that you will fall back to sleep.”

“Perhaps,” she said.

But they did not. She watched as Garrick went about the business of the day, everything he needed brought to him at her bedside. The only time he left was to relieve himself or fetch her something she needed. She learned of the riot the night of the masque, and Jesso said the men who had been caught were ready for interview.

“I will see them later,” Garrick said. “Let them stew a while in the dungeons.”

She dozed off after that, and when she awakened it was to the medic changing her bandage. She flushed as her breast was exposed, revealing the stitches and the livid black and blue bruising all around it, taking up the majority of her breast.

Sarea’s eyes filled with tears to see it. It only served to remind her of what had happened, and what she had lost. She would miss her friend for the rest of her days. She vowed she would never forget her.

“Gersa,” she said suddenly.

“What of her?” Garrick asked.

“She must have had something to do with this!” she said.

“What makes you think that? She is a bitch its true, but to sink to murder? The murder of the future queen? That is a huge step,” Garrick said.

“She would do anything to have you to herself,” Sarea said.

“She has a point,” Jesso said. “I wouldn’t put it past her or her father for that matter. After all, who would have the most to gain if you suddenly found yourself in need of a wife again.”

“It is illogical at best,” Garrick said. “She knows I will not have her.”

“I do not think her ego will allow her to accept that fact,” Jesso said.

“Well, we’ll certainly look into it. Have her servants questioned. If anyone would know it would be the ones who serve her. As for you, my lady, it is time you rested. Would you like me to read to you?”

“Oh yes. That would be lovely. If you’re sure there’s nothing else you should be doing.”

“I promise you, the kingdom will wait,” he said. “What shall it be? One of the classics? Or perhaps a fantasy story about far off places and magical beings? Or perhaps poetry?”

“I think I should like to hear of far off places. Perhaps an escape from present troubles is exactly what is needed.”

“Then it shall be done,” he promised her.

 

 

 

Garrick threw down his pen and shoved back from his writing cabinet. He absently rubbed his fingers together where the ink of the day’s work had stained them.

Two shona. It had been two shona and still they were no closer to finding Sarea’s attacker. And now the wedding was tomorrow. It would be a public spectacle, as all royal weddings were, coupled with the frivolity of the winter’s feast. The trouble with public spectacles was that the object of the spectator’s attention was left open and vulnerable. It would be nothing for someone to take bow and arrow and shoot his queen from a distance.

He was left with no choice but to give prayer to the Joyous One and hope he smiled down on them with good intention and protection. He had tried to make the wedding a private affair, but Sarea would not have it. The people needed to see the wedding, she said. It would make them feel good to know the king was well on his way to securing the succession of his throne. Such security prevented things like riots from breaking out.

On a day when much wine would flow, the danger of drunken mischief would no doubt triple. But to keep wine from the masses when they were expecting it would cause a riot in and of itself.

So wedding wine and feast it was.

It felt as if the day had been a long time coming, yet when looked as a whole the time between first meeting Sarea and now wedding her was really quite short. But so much had happened in those short shona.

There was a knock on the door and then Jesso entered the room.

“You look tired, Garrick. You had best get some sleep before tomorrow. There’s a long day ahead of you.” He grinned. “And a longer night.”

“I do not feel right about that. She’s still not properly healed.”

“She is healed enough,” Jesso said. “Her stitches have come out. She can use her hand well enough. Fere tells me the bruising is almost completely gone.”

“Almost. I would not put her through a difficult day so soon.”

“She will not have it any other way,” Jesso pointed out.

“No. She will not. Who is with her now?”

“Kill and Jun. Hannibol is reviewing with the Order their responsibilities tomorrow. We will not have drunken soldiers on top of everything else.”

“That is good. What of Xan?”

“Xan is questioning the ringleader of the riot again,” Jesso said.

“He is determined to break him.”

“It is clear now that the riot was not spontaneous. It was instigated. For what reason and by whom, that is up to Xan to discover. But after two shona I don’t think he’s going to have any success.”

“Perhaps not. We will see. The ringleader will not see freedom until he becomes more tractable. Perhaps time will loosen his tongue,” Garrick said.

“Perhaps. As for other news, the Umam raid the other night resulted in one death and a farm burned to the ground. That’s two more incursions onto our territory. They are growing bolder.”

“What I need to know is are these a group of bandits simply trolling the borders, or is it a directed strike by the Umam.”

“To know that we need to catch them in the act. Either way, you might have to send one of us into the Umam court.”

“I could be sending you to your death if I do that and I won’t lose another Trusted. And I don’t trust anyone else to do it right.”

“Then that puts you in a bad position.”

“The Umam hate us. But I was content to let them hate us from afar. As long as the Red Forest stood between our peoples I thought we could live in peace. It may be that that is not longer the case. I want to avoid war between us at all costs…but not at the cost of my people’s lives.”

“Then it seems we are at an impasse.”

“We need to catch the marauders. Once we do that we can question them and find out what the story is. I want a great deal of troop movement especially in the south. We will also contact our neighbors to the east and see how they feel about joining us in a war against the Umam.”

“It would be better if there was a direct tie to our throne. King Usted has a daughter you could marry,” Jesso said teasingly. “It’s not too late.”

“It is far too late. I know more than ever that Sarea and I are trumates. I wonder that she does not feel it though.”

“She may, but like the attack that night may not recognize it for what it is.”

Garrick frowned at the reminder. “I thank the Joyous One every day for Dakon. He has risen a great deal in our estimation. He is beginning to act and sound like Trusted.”

“Have you made up your mind already?”

“It will take more time. As you’ve said, there’s more to being Trusted than being a good soldier. But I see glimmers of a man I could someday trust as I do the others.”

“But not as me,” Jesso said with a grin.

“No. I trust no one as well as I trust you.” Garrick frowned. “But I feel for Sarea. To have lost her most trusted friend. I fear she will never want to replace her.”

“Give it time. She has other friends. They may move up and take Isobol’s place.”

“Would that it were that easy. For I know that if it were you…no one could ever take your place.”

“Cease or you will make me flush like a woman,” Jesso laughed.

“Come. Let us to night’s meal. I must eat it with my Trusted alone as is custom and will be grateful for the reprieve from my court.”

“Certainly the reprieve from Tyron. He was not happy when you settled that land dispute out of his favor.”

“It was clear the other family had been fishing that lake for generations. Tyron just wanted it to say it was his.”

“Well, like many things with Tyron, this will only add fuel to the fire of the insult this wedding pays his daughter. We have questioned Gersa’s household staff…and there is something there. They are not speaking because they are far more afraid of Lord Tyron and his daughter than they are of me, but I can change that if you like.”

BOOK: Trusted
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