She patted my leg through the bedcovers. “You aren’t wearing trousers, and I survived the experience, I’m sure she will as well. This isn’t my first time playing nursemaid to you, remember?”
I did. In fact, I had had to help nurse her back to health on one occasion too. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how many life-threatening injuries I, and everyone around me, had been through. It was a sobering thought. It was also part of what made Rose family.
I stared at her for a moment, studying the faint lines around her eyes, the silver streaks that had begun to sneak into her hair. Rose was getting older, just as I was, but it only seemed to enhance her beauty. “Rose, if I don’t make it…,” I began.
“None of that,” she barked firmly. “You will get better Mordecai Illeniel, so that I can torment you for years to come.” Standing, she headed for the door. “I’ll fetch Alyssa and then we’ll see if you can fill that pot.”
A mischievous thought occurred to me as she was leaving. “Rose, wait. This is embarrassing, but I’m too weak. It’s a heavy burden that I bear, I don’t think I can lift it. I think perhaps I’ll need more assistance than you might anticipate.” I gave her a wicked grin.
She clapped one hand in front of her mouth and feigned shock. “Oh no! If that’s the case I am sure my slight strength will be insufficient. Perhaps I should call Gram to hold it for you?”
“Nevermind,” I replied instantly. “I feel my strength returning already.” Honestly, Rose was no fun sometimes, and she had an evil sense of humor.
A minute later she returned with Alyssa, but despite their best efforts they weren’t able to get me on my feet. It hurt too much, and my legs wouldn’t take my weight. The day before I had managed it with only Penny’s help, but I had grown weaker. After some struggling, and one or two painful screams on my part, they gave up. Instead they rolled me onto my side and brought the chamber pot to me.
It was a thoroughly humiliating experience. After a quarter of an hour I hadn’t managed to accomplish much, but they relented and took the pot away.
The dandelion and willow bark tea came after that, and while I didn’t like it, I drank it with a minimum of complaints. She hid it well, but something in Rose’s posture told me she was worried, and the tea was the only thing I could do to help relieve that, so I swallowed it quickly.
I slept for a while after that, and when I awoke again I opened my eyes slowly. Rose was still there, sitting at the bedside. Her hands were busy, tatting lace I realized after a moment. She couldn’t cook (I knew from experience) but Lady Rose was a product of her upbringing, she spent every spare moment keeping her hands busy. Over the course of a year her dexterous fingers would produce a prodigious amount of lace to be used on collars and ruffs.
Silently I watched, admiring her skill. When she spoke it surprised me, for I didn’t think she had noticed my wakefulness. “Want to tell me about what happened on the island?”
“I’m sure you heard it all from Penny.”
Her hands continued moving, and her eyes never wavered from their work. “Enough to know how much the entire thing upset her. One look at you is enough to understand why, but I’m sure she didn’t tell me everything.”
Lady Rose had a keen intellect and a knack for observation and inference. Despite being without magesight, she always knew more about what was going on than any ten people that I could name put together. It was sometimes frightening how much she knew. On occasion I had wondered if she had some secret ability to read minds. What’s more, she only spoke of a fraction of what she had observed or figured out, so it was always a safe bet she knew far more than she said.
When I didn’t say anything she prompted, “Fill me in on what happened.”
“Why? I’m sure you already know as much as I could tell.”
“Because you need to,” she responded.
She was right, and there was no better confessor a man could find than her. If anyone could understand, she would be the one. I felt trapped by my isolation, so I began to talk. A half an hour passed as I slowly detailed what had happened, describing everything, leaving nothing out, at least not until the end. When I stopped there, she picked up the thread for me.
“And then he kissed her, and she dropped the sword,” she finished for me. “You weren’t going to say it, were you?”
“She told you.”
Rose nodded. “She was very relieved when you told her about his ability to influence emotions, but that wasn’t the whole truth, was it Mordecai?”
Dammit. I had known this would happen. The woman missed nothing. “No, it isn’t.”
Reaching into her collar she lifted out her own pendant, the same one that every resident of Castle Cameron and Washbrook wore. “I am not a wizard, but from what I remember of your explanation, these prevent that sort of manipulation.”
I had given that explanation to her and others well over fifteen years ago, but she had not forgotten. The enchanted pendants weren’t perfect or foolproof. A Centyr mage, like my daughter, Moira, could get around their protection with a small delay, but a non-Centyr, like Tyrion, or myself, could not. “Did you tell her?” I asked simply.
She pursed her lips. “No. I think you did well to leave her with that comfort, though one caveat would be, if she realizes this on her own, things might be worse.”
“What would she do?” I croaked, my voice having become much thicker.
Rose stared sharply at me for a moment before her eyes softened, “Idiot! Is that what you think of her? She would do nothing, except perhaps secretly hating herself. For all your brilliance, there are times when you surprise me with your stupidity, Mordecai.”
My vision went blurry, and I couldn’t respond.
“She loves you. She always has, and she always will. What happened to her was an instinctive physical reaction, something we are all prone to suffer from.” There was a hint of bitterness in her voice.
Everything stopped. I stopped. My world, the internal spiral of doubt—stopped. In her words, I could sense something new, something that puzzled me, something that might turn my perceptions upside down. I glanced at Rose, waiting for her to continue.
Her eyes bored into mine, while an unknown time passed. Behind them was a burning intelligence so bright it would have been frightening, if it had not also been tempered by an equal amount of compassion. Something passed between us, some understanding or feeling, though if I was asked to put words to it, I would not know what to say. It was deep and subliminal, a feeling of comfort, of understanding, coupled with a certain wistfulness. Eventually she reached out and wrapped my swollen hand with her soft cool fingers, her touch a balm for my nerves.
“Humans are complicated creatures, Mordecai,” she said at last. “We are not any one thing, but several at once. We can describe ourselves in terms of our animal desires, in terms of our rational decisions, and in terms of our higher emotions, the beast, the mind, and the heart. I’ll use those labels to describe them, but remember, they are just words. In reality, in the deeper truth, they are all part of a single thing, a thing we cannot describe without losing some of its meaning.
“The best part of us, is our heart, the place where our love comes from, and love is a thing that has many forms, but they are all the same. Whether it is love for a child, love for your wife, or love for a friend, it’s the same thing. We use different names for those relationships, not because the love is different, but because there are other elements tied to them, the lust of our inner beast in some cases, and the framework and rules imposed by the mind.”
I had said something similar once, but often the truth means more when heard from the lips of another. Rose squeezed my hand and nodded, as though she could hear my inner monologue.
Then she continued, “Remember when Elaine was chasing you?”
Internally I winced. Elaine Prathion was the daughter of my good friend, Walter. For a time, I had been her mentor and teacher. She had idolized me, and in her early adulthood
, that admiration had become something more intense for her. A lovely young woman, she had done everything in her power to force me to acknowledge her womanhood. Until at last I had been forced to confront her, to explain why that physical attraction would never be answered, why there were some boundaries that I wouldn’t cross. She had been hurt and embarrassed, but my firm words had put an end to an infatuation that could have only led to pain.
I smiled ruefully, “I should have known that couldn’t have slipped by unnoticed by your eyes.”
“Not just mine, Mort. Penny knew as well, I have no doubt. I can still remember the day when you crushed poor Elaine’s hopes.”
I pursed my lips, it hadn’t been a good day. Hurting people wasn’t something I enjoyed, even when it was necessary. “You even knew the day, eh?”
Rose nodded. “I wasn’t there. I didn’t see it, but it was apparent from her behavior, and I can guess what happened. You were under a lot of pressure at the time, sick with worry, and as usual, you were keeping it from everyone. She probably approached you at some point, when you were alone, and offered her comfort in a very direct fashion. When you rejected her, it sent her into an angry depression.”
It hadn’t been quite that simple. The facts were correct, but too plain. I closed my eyes.
She squeezed my hand, “That was the easy version—in reality, you wanted her.”
“No.”
Rose tapped my forehead with her other hand, and then my heart. “Not in here, or here, no—but the beast, the animal that lives within men and women, it wanted her. I’m sure you struggled with it, but in the end, you did the right thing.
My breath escaped in a long sigh. Rose was far too perceptive.
“In some ways, that was similar to what happened to Penny, but not in every way,” said Rose. “With Elaine, you had other feelings as well. You loved her as a student, as a pupil, as a friend. But in Penny’s case, there was not even that. She was caught, trapped like a wild animal by a dangerous hunter. As a woman, she suffered a momentary surge, but there was no affection, no thought of betrayal, only fear and an involuntary rush of hormones. Rather than the pain of rejecting someone, as you experienced with Elaine, she got a sample of something far darker and more painful. She was nearly raped, and whatever reaction she had in those initial seconds, what followed would have been painful and destructive.”
Silence followed, until finally I spoke, “Thank you, Rose.”
“You already knew all that,” she replied.
“I needed to hear it, from someone who’s heart and mind wasn’t clouded by anger.”
She smiled faintly. “Glad I could help, but don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m completely objective. I suffer from the cravings of my inner beast, and the longings of an irrational heart as well, just like everyone else.”
Fatigue was wearing on my consciousness, but I couldn’t help but wonder, “Even you, Rose? I have never known anyone with an intellect as clear and insightful as yours. I always imagined you lived without doubt, secure in your decisions, perfect in your composure.”
A shadow crossed her face, but was quickly gone. “Ever the poet, aren’t you, Mort? Even half dead you string your words together like pearls. You flatter me, but you know just as well as I do, that a towering intellect is as often a curse as it is a blessing, and it is certainly no protection from the whispers of the heart.”
Her words faded in and out for me. Sleep would take me again soon. Too relaxed, I asked a question I would never have dared voice normally, “Were you ever tempted, Rose? When Dorian was still alive, or after?”
She sighed. “Dorian was perfect, in every way, more so than I could ever be. I was infatuated with him as a girl, I loved him helplessly as a young woman, and nothing that life ever threw at us made me love him any less. I was devoted to him, and the years since he died have been long and hard.”
She fell silent, and I fell asleep, my heart finally free of the guilt that had plagued me.
In my dreams I felt a ghostly touch on my lips and Rose’s voice echoed through the mists, “But I’m only human, Mort. I’ve been tempted, both before and since, but love is not so simple. My love is for my family, for your family, and it is too strong to allow me to hurt one of them for want of another.”
Chapter 11
When I awoke Rose was gone, but Alyssa was there—with more of that wretched dandelion tea in her hands. Penny returned soon after, and the late afternoon was a steady progression of family members, in and out of the room. My mother, Irene and Conall, Moira, and even Humphrey was brought in for a brief visit.
It was an awful lot for someone as sick as I was to manage, but I didn’t complain. Instead I asked Penny about the one notable exception, “Where’s Matthew?”
She sighed, “He’s working on a project.”
“Ah.”
“For you, actually,” she added.
“Me?”
“The portal to the Queen’s chambers in Albamarl,” explained Penny. “I mentioned it to him and he took it upon himself to handle it for you. He won’t admit it, of course, but I think it’s his way of trying to help. Checking something off your list of obligations…”
A knock came at the door. Penny rose and opened it to find Elise Thornbear standing outside.
“Time to check on our patient,” said the old woman with an easy smile.
I groaned from the bed.
Penny motioned her in with a wide sweep of her hand. “I’ll leave him to you then. I have a few things to take care of. Let me know when you finish, and I’ll come back. We’ve been trying to keep someone with him around the clock.” She stepped out and closed the door before I could protest, leaving me alone with the fiendish old crone.
I would never have called Elise a ‘crone’ out loud, though. She was Dorian’s mother, and when we were younger such a phrase might have earned me a strapping. She had had a firm hand with discipline back then, whether it was her child, or in my case, someone else’s.
“Good evening, Lord Cameron,” she said in a bright tone. The formality was a ruse, as was the cheeriness. It meant she had something terrible in store for me. And Penny had left me alone with her! This merely served to confirm my suspicions, all the women in my life were in on it together. They were out to get me, and Elise Thornbear was their leader and chief torturer.
“I drank all the tea they gave me,” I said defensively.
“Mm hmm,” she said neutrally. Then the fiend pulled the covers up from the foot of the bed, exposing my feet to the cold air. She eyed my feet clinically while I shivered, then replaced the covers. A reasonable man might think that was enough, but she pulled the blankets from my chest next. “Turn onto your side for me,” she ordered.
I tried.
When I failed, she assisted me, her long bony arms both stronger and gentler than one would expect. With her help I made it, though I groaned loudly several times during the process. She pulled up my shirt and studied my backside for a minute. Then she began lightly prodding me with her fingers, placing them here and there. When she reached my lower back I let out and involuntary scream.
She stopped and pulled my shirt down. Then she eased me onto my back and covered me, tucking me into the bed as though I was a small child. She sat down and said nothing.
The silence drew out for a while, making me slightly uncomfortable. Elise Thornbear was something of a force of nature, hard-willed and indomitable. In her youth she had been a Lady of the Evening, poisoner, prostitute, and assassin. Later she had married Gram Thornbear and rejoined the respectable circles of polite society and the nobility, but she had never forgotten the lessons she learned. As Lady Thornbear she had never feared to get her hands dirty, and she had frequently used her skills to treat the wounded and ease the pain of the dying.
But looking at her now, she just looked old—defeated. Hers wasn’t the demeanor of a lady trying to cheer or tease a patient to keep their spirits up.
“How is your mind, Mordecai?”
she asked suddenly. “Are your thoughts still clear?”
“Clear enough,” I answered. “I’m sleeping a lot, but I’m good for short sprints of conversation, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Many physicians wouldn’t tell you what I’m about to. They’d talk to your family first,” she began. “Then again, I think most of them are fools. If you’re still clear headed, then you should be the one to make the choice.”
“Listen, Elise…”
“Shh!” she snapped.
“Yes, ma’am,” I responded immediately. The habits of childhood die hard.
“This isn’t easy for me. I’ve lost too many, more than any woman should, my husband, my son, Marc, Ginny, James, and too many other friends to count. Every time is different, but one thing I’ve come to realize over the long years, is that when possible, it’s best not to pretend. Honest conversation and honest good-byes save a lot of regret for those left behind. Do you understand?”
“Wait, Elise,” I said. “This isn’t as bad as it seems. Whatever you think, in a week, or maybe a little more, I’ll be able to fix this.”
“You don’t have a week, Mort,” she said bluntly. Lifting my hand, she showed me how swollen my fingers were. “Your kidneys have shut down.”
I frowned, “They weren’t injured.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she responded. “Massive trauma can cause it. Breaking down and reabsorbing blood, from bruising or internal injuries, is very taxing for the kidneys. Yours have been overwhelmed. That’s why you’re swelling, that’s why you can’t piss. Your blood is turning into poison. In a few days you’ll be delirious and in tremendous pain. From there it’s just a horrid waiting game, but two or three days more and you’ll be dead. The worst of it, is that there isn’t anything I can give you at that point that will ease the symptoms. Only death will release you, and your family won’t be able to do anything but watch.”
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