The Winter King
Page 149
His body shifted, as if he were trying to rise, but a groan slipped from his lips, and his face creased in pain. Then, to her horror, his eyes rolled back in his head, he gave a ragged sigh, and his body went completely limp.
“Wynter?” She shook him. “Husband?” He didn’t respond. Fear rose, swift and hard. She shook him again and shouted for help. “Galacia! Valik!”
The pair were at Wynter’s side in an instant.
“He has lost more blood than most could survive, and this wound across his belly is worrisome. The intestine was cut. The risk of deadly infection is very high.” Galacia flicked a grim gaze at Khamsin, then turned to Valik. “We need to get him back inside immediately.”
“You said if I called the lightning, that would save him.”
“From the Ice Heart. And you did—at least temporarily. But these are deadly wounds. Now that his flesh is mortal once more, his wounds have the power to kill him. If I can’t heal him, he may still die.”
“What?” Outrage boiled up inside Kham. “Why didn’t you tend his wounds earlier?”
Galacia gave her a sharp look. “You felt him. His body had turned to ice. How could I tend him in that condition? How could I stitch through skin hard as stone?”
“And now?”
“Now we put my healing abilities to the test.”
Kham found herself shunted aside as the men hoisted Wynter up and carried him back into the lodge. Kham stared after them, trying desperately to quell the knot of fear rising in her throat. Wynter could still die.
“Valik.” She caught the Steward’s arm. “We need Tildy—Tildavera Greenleaf—my old nurse. There’s no better healer in all of Summerlea, possibly all of Mystral. I’ve seen her bring soldiers back from the brink of death, when every other healer said they could not be saved.”
“She’s the one who came to our camp, isn’t she? The one who sold Wyn on the idea of marrying one of your father’s daughters.” He gave a derisive snort. “No.”
She reached for him again. “Listen to me. I know you don’t trust her—or me, for that matter—and I don’t care. If Galacia can save Wynter on her own, you won’t need to let Tildy anywhere near him. But if she can’t . . .” She let her voice trail off.
Valik shook his head. “Even if I said yes, it would take weeks to get word to Vera Sola then get her here. Wynter doesn’t have that kind of time.”
“No, it won’t.” Galacia looked up from Wynter’s side. “She’s already on her way to Gildenheim. Wynter sent for her ten days ago.”
“What?” Valik and Khamsin said in unison. They looked at each other, then both turned back to Galacia.
“Wynter sent for Tildy?”
“He never told me that,” Valik burst out at the same time.
Laci leveled a stern glance on Valik. “If your king has ceased to confide in you, Valik, perhaps you should look to your own heart for the reason why.” Then with a haughty sniff, she added, “He sent for Tildavera Greenleaf because he thought Khamsin would want a familiar face to attend her during her pregnancy.”
“My . . . what?” Kham’s jaw dropped. “Who said I’m pregnant?”
Galacia’s brows shot up. “Are you telling me you didn’t know?” Her lips tightened, and she glared at Wynter’s unconscious face. “I love you dearly, Wynter Atrialan, but you are a great lunkheaded lummox of a man.” To Khamsin, she said, “You have been suffering spells of dizziness, yes? Feeling a little queasy at mealtimes?”
“Yes, but—”
“Your scent has changed, too. Wynter pointed it out to me. He said he’d noticed a similar change when you first arrived at Gildenheim, but he didn’t realize what it meant until after we discovered what that Rosh woman had done. Your body is changing, thus altering your scent, making you dizzy, and making you queasy, because you are with child.”
Khamsin felt dizzy now. She grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself and laid a hand on her still flat belly. “But how can that be?”
Galacia arched an expressive brow. “Considering that you and Wynter have been mating like a pair of mink the last six weeks, I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question?”
Kham grimaced and rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Are you sure? There is no mistake?”
“You’ve had no bleeding since Belladonna Rosh was sent to the mercy of the mountains, have you?”
Kham’s face went hot. Mortified to have Valik and all the other men in the room listening to the intimate details of her bodily functions, she shook her head.
“Then there’s no mistake. By the end of summer, you’ll give birth to the next heir to the Winter Throne. Congratulations, my queen, and please don’t tell Wynter I was the one who informed you. He must have been waiting for you to realize the truth and tell him yourself.”
“I think I need to sit down.” Kham circled around the chair she was clinging to and sank down upon it. She was going to have a child. A child. Hers and Wynter’s.
“Anyways,” Galacia continued briskly, “the point I was trying to make is that Tildavera Greenleaf is at least halfway here by now—probably closer. And if she’s as good a healer as Khamsin says, then we should bring her here posthaste.”
Kham lifted her head. “Find her, Valik. Bring her here.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “That’s not a request. That’s a command from your queen.”
“Wynter?” She shook him. “Husband?” He didn’t respond. Fear rose, swift and hard. She shook him again and shouted for help. “Galacia! Valik!”
The pair were at Wynter’s side in an instant.
“He has lost more blood than most could survive, and this wound across his belly is worrisome. The intestine was cut. The risk of deadly infection is very high.” Galacia flicked a grim gaze at Khamsin, then turned to Valik. “We need to get him back inside immediately.”
“You said if I called the lightning, that would save him.”
“From the Ice Heart. And you did—at least temporarily. But these are deadly wounds. Now that his flesh is mortal once more, his wounds have the power to kill him. If I can’t heal him, he may still die.”
“What?” Outrage boiled up inside Kham. “Why didn’t you tend his wounds earlier?”
Galacia gave her a sharp look. “You felt him. His body had turned to ice. How could I tend him in that condition? How could I stitch through skin hard as stone?”
“And now?”
“Now we put my healing abilities to the test.”
Kham found herself shunted aside as the men hoisted Wynter up and carried him back into the lodge. Kham stared after them, trying desperately to quell the knot of fear rising in her throat. Wynter could still die.
“Valik.” She caught the Steward’s arm. “We need Tildy—Tildavera Greenleaf—my old nurse. There’s no better healer in all of Summerlea, possibly all of Mystral. I’ve seen her bring soldiers back from the brink of death, when every other healer said they could not be saved.”
“She’s the one who came to our camp, isn’t she? The one who sold Wyn on the idea of marrying one of your father’s daughters.” He gave a derisive snort. “No.”
She reached for him again. “Listen to me. I know you don’t trust her—or me, for that matter—and I don’t care. If Galacia can save Wynter on her own, you won’t need to let Tildy anywhere near him. But if she can’t . . .” She let her voice trail off.
Valik shook his head. “Even if I said yes, it would take weeks to get word to Vera Sola then get her here. Wynter doesn’t have that kind of time.”
“No, it won’t.” Galacia looked up from Wynter’s side. “She’s already on her way to Gildenheim. Wynter sent for her ten days ago.”
“What?” Valik and Khamsin said in unison. They looked at each other, then both turned back to Galacia.
“Wynter sent for Tildy?”
“He never told me that,” Valik burst out at the same time.
Laci leveled a stern glance on Valik. “If your king has ceased to confide in you, Valik, perhaps you should look to your own heart for the reason why.” Then with a haughty sniff, she added, “He sent for Tildavera Greenleaf because he thought Khamsin would want a familiar face to attend her during her pregnancy.”
“My . . . what?” Kham’s jaw dropped. “Who said I’m pregnant?”
Galacia’s brows shot up. “Are you telling me you didn’t know?” Her lips tightened, and she glared at Wynter’s unconscious face. “I love you dearly, Wynter Atrialan, but you are a great lunkheaded lummox of a man.” To Khamsin, she said, “You have been suffering spells of dizziness, yes? Feeling a little queasy at mealtimes?”
“Yes, but—”
“Your scent has changed, too. Wynter pointed it out to me. He said he’d noticed a similar change when you first arrived at Gildenheim, but he didn’t realize what it meant until after we discovered what that Rosh woman had done. Your body is changing, thus altering your scent, making you dizzy, and making you queasy, because you are with child.”
Khamsin felt dizzy now. She grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself and laid a hand on her still flat belly. “But how can that be?”
Galacia arched an expressive brow. “Considering that you and Wynter have been mating like a pair of mink the last six weeks, I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question?”
Kham grimaced and rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Are you sure? There is no mistake?”
“You’ve had no bleeding since Belladonna Rosh was sent to the mercy of the mountains, have you?”
Kham’s face went hot. Mortified to have Valik and all the other men in the room listening to the intimate details of her bodily functions, she shook her head.
“Then there’s no mistake. By the end of summer, you’ll give birth to the next heir to the Winter Throne. Congratulations, my queen, and please don’t tell Wynter I was the one who informed you. He must have been waiting for you to realize the truth and tell him yourself.”
“I think I need to sit down.” Kham circled around the chair she was clinging to and sank down upon it. She was going to have a child. A child. Hers and Wynter’s.
“Anyways,” Galacia continued briskly, “the point I was trying to make is that Tildavera Greenleaf is at least halfway here by now—probably closer. And if she’s as good a healer as Khamsin says, then we should bring her here posthaste.”
Kham lifted her head. “Find her, Valik. Bring her here.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “That’s not a request. That’s a command from your queen.”
