The Blood Knight - J. Gregory Keyes [180]
“But the chanting? The song? The wine?”
Aspar ticked them off on his fingers.
“Fraud, deceit, and I was thirsty. But the berries are real.” He tossed the bag to the chamberlain, who caught them as if they were eggs. “Now,” he went on, “I’ve been riding for a few days without sleep. I’m going to try and get some. If you honorable fellows are goin’ to slit my throat while I’m with Saint Soan, try and do it quietly.”
Fingers on his face stroked him awake far more pleasantly than the kiss of a razor might have. At first he was afraid that it was only a dream, that he wasn’t seeing Winna’s half-lidded eyes looking back at him from the cot. But after glancing around at the situation, he managed to convince himself.
Winna’s hand dropped loosely by her side.
“Weak,” she murmured. Then her eyes focused on him again. “Glad you changed your mind,” she whispered. “Glad to see you one more time.” Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes.
“I didn’t change my mind,” he said. “I found the witch. She gave me what I asked for.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes and wheezed a few breaths.
“I don’t feel well, Aspar,” she said.
“You’re better than you were,” he assured her. “You were close on Saint Dun’s gate when I got here. Now you’re awake.” He took her hand in his. “How in Grim’s name did you end up in the castle?”
“Oh. The girl, Haudy, told someone; I’m a little hazy. They came and took us, asked a lot of questions about you.” She closed her eyes. “I told them that if you came here, you wouldn’t have it. I didn’t think you would. I didn’t think I would see you again.”
“Well, here I am, and with the cure.”
“Ehawk?”
He glanced at the boy, who was asleep but seemed to have better color. The greft was asleep, too, guarded by four knights, but to his surprise Aspar found the greftson looking at them.
“What is this?” the boy managed. “What’s going on?”
“The story is you tried to fight a waurm,” Aspar said.
“Auy,” the young man replied. “That’s right, and then…” His face screwed up in concentration. “I don’t remember much after that.”
“Emfrith! My sweet boy!”
The guards had shaken their lord awake and were helping the frail old man move toward his son.
“Atta!” Emfrith replied.
Aspar watched the two embrace.
“How do you feel?” the greft asked.
“Weak. Sick.”
“You’ve been out of your head, unable even to recognize your own father.”
After a moment, the greft drew himself up and faced Aspar, his eyes wet with tears.
“I regret…” He paused, as if struggling up a mountain under a heavy load. “I regret my treatment of you, master holter. I will not forget that you have done this. When you leave here, you shall have whatever I can give to help you on your way.”
“Thank you,” Aspar said. “Food and maybe some arrows will do. But I’ll need them soon.”
“How soon?”
“Midday, if it please you, Greft. I have a woorm to slay, and I’m in a hurry to get at it.”
Winna’s hand came back to his and gripped it. “Do you understand?” he asked her. “I’d stay with you or wait until you can ride—”
“No,” she said. “No, that would be too long.”
“That’s my lady.”
He bent to kiss her and found her weeping again.
“We won’t grow old together, will we, Aspar?” she whispered. “We’ll never have children, or a garden, or any of that.”
“No,” he murmured. “I don’t think we will.”
“But you love me?”
He pulled away a bit and wanted to lie, but he couldn’t.
“Yah,” he said. “More than I have words for.”
“Then try and get killed later rather than sooner,” she replied.
She was sleeping again a bell later, but her color had improved. The greftson was actually able to sit up, and Ensil was true to his word, providing him two pack mules replete with provisions and mountain clothing.
By the time the sun stood a bell after noon, the pyres of Haemeth were darkening the sky at his back.
COMMENTS ON THE VIRGENYAN LEAST LOON
Uncommon in the world at large, this peculiar creature is found in isolated nesting places: little-used parlors, small garden nooks, and the most remote corners of libraries and monasteries.
When confronted or even