XXVII

Blinking, Yoreno opened his eyes and squinted against the sunlight shining through the window. He glanced about, feeling like he had fallen off a cliff. His entire body was sore.

He was lying in a bed in a moderately-sized chamber. It was warm, and covering him was nothing more than a white linen sheet, though he had a nightshirt on. Sweat trickled down his chest.

Moving, he stopped suddenly as a deep ache in his neck throbbed, the pain sending tendrils down his back—into his spine. He graoned loudly, his eyes widening as he gound the pain surprising.

That ache persisted there in his core.

Poison.

Yoreno rubbed his neck to massage away the soreness, but he felt only pain on the surface of his skin, the touch doing nothing to sooth his discomfort.

Part of him wished he had fallen off a cliff—like he had before during his trials on the Isle of Morr. He hadn’t been badly hurt, but he still had aches and pains for weeks after that. But at least he could massage those. That had been beneficial.

And hot baths.

Taking in a deep breath, the door on the left side of the chamber creaked open and he glanced toward it. A young maidservant bowed as she came in, the expression on her face and the way she carried herself one of shyness and embarrassment.

With a smile, she said, “You’ve awoken, my lord.”

He grunted as he sat up in the bed. “How long have I been unconscious for?”

The maid filled the washstand near the wall. As the water splashed softly, she said. “It’s been three days.”

“Gods,” Yoreno said. That poison must have nearly killed him. Lucky Mai had been there. He remembered seeing her, but then everything went to black. “Where… where are the others?”

The sunlight from the window was warm, but the low-hanging sunlight shone in his eyes, making him squint. She looked at him, her face somewhat hard to see. “Out adventuring. All save for Dame Brennovo.”

“Is she all right?”

“Yes,” the maid said with a friendly nod. “She was wounded fighting in the spider nest, but she’s well on the mend.”

“Can you send her here?”

“Ah,” the maid said uncertainly. “My lord, I should call our healer in to check on you, then he can answer that question. Does this please you?”

He nodded. “Yes.” Flicking his eyes behind her, he saw a pitcher of drinking water on the table. “Can you get me something to drink?”

“Of course.”

She turned, filled a cup and brought it to him, though she didn’t give him the cup, she tilted the back, helping him drink.

Yoreno didn’t think he was that feeble as to need help, but he said nothing has he drank the cool water. It soothed his throat, just as the ache in his neck pulsed.

Something in his bones hurt.

“Oh,” the maid said. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“A rider came to the castle, by the name of Levryn.”

“Really?!” The pain in his spine flared and she grunted. “Go on.”

She nodded, the worried look on her face somewhat annoying Yoreno. He was fine. Surely he was fine. Mai had healed him. He was on he mend. “Y—yes,” she said with a hesistant nod. “He left word with the young dame. Perhaps I should have let her tell you.”

“No,” Yoreno said. “No, it is fine. Thank you.”

“I’ll go and fetch the healer, then.”

Yoreno nodded as the maid took her leave. Glancing about in the quiet room, he suddenly felt exhausted, his breathing shallow. He sucked in a deep lungful of air as something sharp and tingling shot up his spine.

It made him wince.

If this was “on the mend,” then what condition had he been in three days ago?

He glanced down at his hand. Then he moved his fingers slightly. He felt…

Weak.

Lifting his arm, he spread his fingers. He was shaking like a leaf.

A spike of fear roiled up in his stomach and the Knight of Aevalin swallowed against that bile mounting within him.

Yoreno shook his head as he awoke to the sounds of the healer entering the room. He blinked when he saw Dantera following him in.

“I must have fallen asleep.”

“To be sure,” the healer said. “I’ve come, Lord Yoreno, to check on your condition.”

“Three days on the mend,” Yoreno said. “Surely I’m well enough not to worry over?”

Dantera looked at him, her face not betraying anything. At least, that’s what she was trying to do. Something about Yoreno’s words disturbed her. He could see it in her non reaction.

The healer glanced at Dantera, who said nothing.

Breathing in deeply, Yoreno said, “I heard Lev arrived. Are the Roaming Lions with him?”

Dantera nodded. “Yes. They went out on several adventures.”

“What happened?” Yoreno asked.

She shrugged. “Technically we lost, Yoreno.”

“What?”

“Yes,” she said with a single grave nod.

“I’m going to have to ask you not to speak of that now,” the healer said. He was a tall man with a long face, maybe in his middle years. His red-blonde hair was thinning at the top.

He looked at Yoreno with blue eyes and touched his spider bite with two fingers. “This will pain you for a moment, my lord. But not to worry.”

It almost sounded like a reprimand.

What Yoreno felt was a stinging pain, along with icy coldness. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his body jerking at the sudden sensations.

“Easy,” the healer stressed, his tone relaxing.

That discomfort and pain surrounded the puncture wounds on his neck, traveled into his neck and down his spine, enveloping his core where that aching pain was.

Yoreno let his eyes close as he groaned.

“Mmm,” the healer nouised.

“What is it?” Dantera asked.

Yoreno still hadn’t opened his eyes as the healer said nothing.

But then he opened them, connected with Dantera’s blue gaze. He saw worry there. But he ignored it, and ignored the healer’s request that they not speak of important matters. “Tell me what has happened.”

Dantera glanced at the healer, then met Yoreno’s eyes again. “Lord Shane has escaped. So has that vile creature Lak’temora and his monster.”

“What? How?!”

“I told you not to speak of this now.”

“Tell me!” Yoreno commanded.

Dantera sighed. “Shane defeated me soundly, I am ashamed to admit.”

“And I lost to Lak’temora,” Yoreno said, flicking his eyes to the healer, who was still questing into Yoreno’s wound with his magic. “There is no shame in losing a fight. We did what we were able.”

“Yes, but they escaped, Yoreno.”

“Then when we are healed we will set out once again on a new quest. We will find them—and bring them to justice.”

“We did bring one man back with us. One of his Black Guards.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she said. “Either you or Sir Xanderial wounded him. A Sir Kristan Hathor.”

“And did he give you anything useful?”

“Plenty,’ Dantera said. Then she shrugged. “Or so I heard.”

“Who is leading the Roaming Lions?”

“Yorinius, of course, though I am very surprised to see Sorika take such an active role in the leadership, Yoreno.”

He sighed, at east. “Yorinius is a good leader. Sorika… I don’t know—but I chose her to lead the second party for a reason. She is cool and level-headed. Usually.”

“With Dellwyn back, I am not so sure.”

“Did they…?”

She shook her head. “Getting along well, it seems. For now.”

He chuckled, a sudden icy pain lashing out at him and he grunted through gritted teeth.

“I told you,” the healer said, sounding like a parent chastising a small child, “not to speak of these things—or to move.”

“You didn’t tell me not to move.”

“I am now.”

“I need you to heal me so I can get back out there—we have a war to fight and an assassin to catch.”

The healer said nothing.

That worried look came back to Dantera and he sighed, sinking into the pillow at his back. He looked at her, regarded her beautiful face—her lips.

“What is it?” he finally asked.

“Yoreno…” she glanced up at the healer, who stood a good head and a half taller than she did. “You are not on the mend.”

He frowned, that bile in his stomach from earlier suddenly coming back. “What do you mean? Mai healed me.”

“You seemed to be getting better at first, but then the taint… it has remained.”

“And it’s spreading,” the healer said.

“But…” It was poison. A substance that could surely be cleansed. Mai had done it before. He had seen her do it. “Surely the right healer…?”

The healer pursed his lips and shook his head. “A sample of the spiderling’s poison is necessary to formulate an antidote,”he said, his tone sounding like he was teaching a class. “Delivering that antidote with the expediency and thoroughness of magic will undoubtedly save your life, Lord Brendara.”

Narrowing his eyes, Yoreno made a deep sound in his throat. He glanced at Dantera for an answer.

“That is what most of the Lions are doing,” Dantera said. “They are out, questing. Searching for Lak’temora and the spiderling.”

“Surely the sorcerer and his beast haven’t been able to get that far?”

She said nothing.

“What?”

“There is another matter.”

“What is it?”

She breathed in deeply. “It seems our plan to draw out the Nai Sha’el has worked. Or at least, we think it has.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because,” she said. “Most of the troubles in the kingdom have gone, or have lessened. We believe this is because the Schuarists are preparing for a push on the castle.”

Yoreno sighed. “Like we planned.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Then what is wrong with all that?”

“Nothing,” she said. “But the Lions will be needed for the castle’s defense.”

“Ah,” he said, looking up at the fabric that enclosed the top of the four poster bed. “So the spiderling will probably not be found.”

“No,” she said, but not in agreement with his words, but the opposite. “I”—she said the words with emphasis—“will find the spiderling. I am well on the mend and will be strong enough to leave the castle in another couple of days. I will take a small party and get you what you need. So you can live, Yoreno.”

He groaned. “What of Rynoria?”

She shrugged. “We will deal with her when the time comes.”

“At the expense of finding the spiderling?”

“There are a lot of Lions about, Yoreno, and—“

“Forget it!” he said, his tone sharper than he intended. Dantera blinked. “You need to kill Rynoria—or capture her.” He looked at her more sternly, and seeing that she was about to argue, he said, “No. No, you need to be the one, so you can return home.”

She laughed, but there was a bitterness there.

“I am ready,” the healer said.

“One moment,” Dantera told him. To Yoreno she said, “If I can save your life, then I will gladly be an outcast for the rest of my days.”

“I forbid it.”

“I really should—“ the healer began, but Dantera cut him off sharply with a pointed finger.

“I said wait, damn you!” She leaned over the side of the bed and smiled. “Well,” she said, her tone lightening. “It is too bad you are not in a position to do anything about it, yes?”

“Damnation, woman, you are stubborn.”

“Yes,” she said, a sardonic look on her face. “I am—was—a lady after all. I know my own mind, Yoreno.”

He sighed heavily.

“We are ready!” the healer insisted.

“Oh fine!” Dantera spat. “Do it.”

“What—what is he going to do?”

“I am going to push against the taint, my lord.” He turned toward the door and motioned for someone to enter. Three men came into the room, and they didn’t look like healers. Turning back to Yoreno, he said, “I must warn you, my lord… this will be painful. Very painful.”

Yoreno glanced at Dantera, and he saw pain in her eyes. “You were asleep before, but now…” She swallowed.

Sighing, Yoreno nodded. It could not be as bad as all that. With a nod he said, “Just do it.”

“Very well,” the healer said. He turned to his men. “Hold him.”

They surrounded the bed as Dantera stepped back. When they grabbed his limbs, their grips were tight, making Yoreno’s heart beat fast with with dreaded anticipation.

“On three. One… Two…”

“Just how much was this supposed to—“

He screamed, the need to do so rushing out of him.

Then he screamed again.

And again.

The desperate pleas for release from this agony sounded like they came from the throat of an entirely different person than the lord and knight of Aevalin.

Dantera put a fist to her mouth and backed out of the chamber as Yoreno screamed, a sound unlike anything she had ever heard from him before—or from most for that matter.

She turned and stalked quickly.

She had to get away.

Couldn’t…

Couldn’t see him like this!

The screams echoed down the hall. When she got far enough away not to hear anymore, she put out her hands in the rays of sunlight under the window and saw that they were shaking.

She glanced back down the corridor where Yoreno’s bedchambers were, then went outside to get some fresh air.

Godsdammit! she thought. She needed to get out—start searching for that traitor. No—he wasn’t a traitor. Sir Jerrin was a false name.

Lak’temora was no traitor, he was a duplicitous spy, an evil sorcerer and creator of monsters, and… and if Dantera didn’t find him—the murderer of Yoreno Brendara—her protégé and love, he would also be.

Godsdammit!