The Ippos King (Wraith Kings #3) - Grace Draven Page 0,107
feet hanging over the end, his broad shoulders taking up the entire width of the narrow frame. The chamber, already small when unoccupied, grew crowded with the arrival of more monks, including the healer Ulsten.
They surrounded the bed, blocking her view. Cuama sat beside her. “These are our healers. They'll examine the margrave, judge the extent of his injuries, and decide how they might help him.”
“I'm not leaving,” she reiterated.
He offered a brief smile. “None of us want to brawl in an effort to show you the door. You're welcome to stay as long as you don't interrupt or interfere.”
“I make no promises,” she said. If she thought they were harming Serovek in any way, she'd damn well interrupt and interfere.
Two hours later, and the healers were deep in their invocations. Serovek had been stripped of his clothes, and another monk had delivered basic physicking supplies including bandages, hot water, drying cloths and small pots of salves. Anhuset was glad to see the monks didn't just depend on spellwork to help their patients.
Ulsten and the other monks had been chanting nonstop since they completed an examination of Serovek's injuries and cleaned his skin of dirt and blood. Their hands glided over his body without touching, leaving behind a soft glow that enveloped him and pulsed to the chant's cadence and rhythm.
“How much longer?” she whispered to Cuama who'd stayed with her.
Her companion observed the proceedings for another moment before replying. “Soon. His injuries beneath the skin were worse than those we could see.” Her heart stuttered at this new revelation. “My brothers are focusing all their power on healing those. When they're done, his lordship will still look ragged, and he'll still ache, but his bones will be knitted, and if Faltik the One deems it so, any bleeding inside will be staunched.” He shook his head, wonder creeping into his voice. “The margrave must be very strong. To fight with such prowess while so wounded is impressive.”
The dull ache of regret beat under Anhuset's breastbone at his words. Serovek was strong, exceptionally so, but he wasn't invincible. Her own faith in him and his ability to hide how badly he was hurt had enabled him to fool her into thinking otherwise. She shouldn't have agreed to the plan of using him as bait, no matter how effective it had been; shouldn't have left him to fend for himself or succumbed to a moment of weakness and kiss him until her knees turned to water and her blood to a molten river where desire overwhelmed caution and sense.
Were he awake and heard her thoughts, he'd scoff. She knew it in her bones. Still, it was difficult seeing him like this, vulnerable yet somehow still undiminished. Anhuset thanked both fortune and any gods paying attention, including this Faltik the One, for the monks' timely arrival on the island.
The chanting finally halted, trailing off to a heavy silence. Everyone in the room stared at the margrave as the glow around him pulsed once before fading away. He looked unchanged to her, still bruised and battered, but his breathing was no longer labored, and his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. He looked like a man sleeping off the effects of too much drink and a hard night of brawling in a rough tavern.
Ulsten approached her. He wore the serene expression of a religious devotee and the sword of a soldier. “Don't be alarmed if he doesn't wake for a few hours. Sleep is his kindest friend right now and a better healer than any spell.”
“He's out of danger then?” Anhuset battled back a surge of euphoria as well as a wide grin. No need to make everyone in the room jumpy.
The monk nodded. “You may remain here with him if you wish. Someone will bring tea and food for you. The room next to this one will be yours and ready when you wish to rest.” He pointed to the scabbed cut on her arm, visible through the slash in her sleeve. “We can heal that.” He touched his own face to mark where her bruises were on her features. “Those too if you wish.”
She declined the offer. Human magic wasn't Kai magic in her opinion, and she was wary of it. Besides, her injuries were minor and nothing a poultice couldn't cure. “If you can send more water and cloth along with the food and leave the salves, I can take care of them myself.”