Alanna The First Adventure - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,27
once again. Stroking Jonathan’s temples, she held his eyes with hers.
“Sleep now, Jonathan.” Her rough, boyish voice was strangely compelling. Myles caught himself yawning. “Sleep.” Jonathan thought he was drowning in violets. He slept.
Coram came with armfuls of firewood. Timon returned with blankets and the kitchen items on Alanna’s list. She sent him for bricks while she settled down before the fire. Carefully she brewed mead, honey, herbs and lemon juice into a syrup for Jonathan’s cough. Her hand shook as she stirred. Myles noticed and took the spoon from her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stirring the mixture himself. “You’ve been shaking since you got Jonathan to sleep.”
She sat down wearily. “Duke Baird was right.” She accepted the glass of wine Coram poured for her and drank it down. “That fever. It takes it out of me—like nothing I’ve ever felt before.” She sighed. “Myles? Could you talk to the King and Queen? They’ll be worried—”
The knight handed his spoon over to Coram. “Say no more,” he told her. He left, trying to smooth his shaggy hair.
Coram watched her as he stirred. “I hope ye know what ye’re doin’.”
Alanna rubbed her already aching head. “So do I.”
When Timon brought in the bricks, Coram heated them in the fire and wrapped them in cloth. Alanna packed them at Jonathan’s sides. Then she and Timon piled more blankets on top of the Prince. Soon Jonathan was sweating. Hard coughs tore from his chest. Alanna let her syrup cool just a little, then tipped some down Jonathan’s throat.
Every two hours they changed the sweatsoaked sheets and packed Jonathan in freshly warmed bricks and blankets. The room was stifling. Their clothes stuck to their bodies—Coram and Timon both stripped off their shirts. When Myles returned, he nearly fainted from the heat
“Duke Baird’s with the Queen,” he reassured Alanna. “He’ll see to it that she’s kept calm and doesn’t come here. And pirates have been attacking Port Caynn. His Majesty is in the War Chamber and cannot leave. They both have to trust Duke Baird’s judgment and leave us alone.”
Alanna looked around. Three sweat-soaked men—and outside this room, the entire palace—watched her, waiting for what she would say next. It was frightening. Was it possible adults weren’t as assured and as powerful as she had always believed?
She didn’t have time to worry about that now. “Timon, let Sir Myles spell you,” she said. “You need to rest and eat.”
Timon obeyed. Now Myles helped her and Coram rewrap Jonathan, and Myles held the Prince while Alanna gave him her syrup. When Timon returned, she made Coram get some rest. By late afternoon Jonathan was coughing up the stuff that was choking his lungs. By dark he was sleeping, but his fever continued to rise. Alanna sent the others away to rest and eat while she watched her friend. Duke Baird looked in briefly and left—it was his third such visit, and he never said anything. Alanna only nodded to him. She had no energy left for conversation.
Myles returned with a tray of food. “Eat,” he ordered. “And I’m setting up a cot in Jonathan’s dressing room. It’s your turn to rest.”
Alanna knew her friend was right. She ate and then lay down in the dressing room, falling asleep immediately and not awakening until nightfall. While her friends went for a snack and a walk, she sat with Jonathan. The room was suffocating with heat, but the Prince was shivering. Sweat ran down his face. Alanna watched and gathered her strength. If the Dark God wanted Jonathan’s life, he had better be ready to fight for it.
The door opened. Alanna jumped to her feet, bowing deeply as the King and Queen came into the room. She felt sorry for them. The King, who was always smiling, looked worried. Deep lines seemed permanently carved around his mouth. He kept one arm around his lady, supporting her weight. Queen Lianne sank into the chair Alanna pulled up for her. She was still not over her own bout with the fever, and her gown hung loosely on her.
“Alan of Trebond.” The King kept his deep voice quiet. “How is my son?”
Alanna swallowed nervously. “As well as can be expected, sire. He slept most of the day.”
Lianne’s voice was kind, but a little sharp. “How can you help him? You’re only a boy, no matter what Baird says.”
“Your Majesty, even I know better than to dirty the air with incense and surround Jonathan with wailing people,” Alanna told her. “Besides—he called for