Richard succumbed to a bad case of fever the very next day. When Jess woke in the morning (he had taken to sleeping in his cousin’s room), he went to wake his friend and immediately noticed that something was wrong. The gashes on his arms and legs were bright red, and heat rose from his body. Jess pulled on his pants and ran off to find the medicus.
Gardwig was still asleep, but Jess found a manservant, who immediately sent for all the healers he knew of. Less than an hour later, six important men, ranging in age from forty to sixty, stood around the prince’s bed. They studied his wounds, his urine, the blood on his bandages, and the linings of his nose and ears. Then they embarked on a lively discussion during which each tried to show his colleagues to be uneducated fools.
Richard was too ill to interrupt. After two hours of squabbling, the medical men reached a diagnosis and shared it with Jess. “Bad air” had entered the wounds and spoiled the prince’s blood. There was only one possible treatment; they must remove the bad blood so that only healthy blood was left to circulate, and they would give his royal highness an emetic. The only remaining disagreement among them concerned the ingredients for the emetic.
A knife and bowl were prepared for the bloodletting. Richard had been drifting, but he awoke when the room grew quiet.
“Jess?”
“I’m here.”
“What is wrong with me?”
“They decided to drain your bad blood.”
“Send them to Maldonaya.”
Jess froze. “What are you saying?”
Richard took a deep breath and explained. “Get them out of here. Don’t let a single one of them touch me.”
“But you’re very ill!”
“Jessamine was ill, too, and she died after the medicus drained her blood. Get rid of them!”
“Are you sure?”
The prince’s gray eyes were stern and cold. Richard was most definitely in his right mind.
“If I die, it will be without their help. Do this for me.”
Jess sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“If it makes any difference, I’ll leave you everything I have.”
Jess cursed quietly and went to find the doctors. They were milling about in the hall.
“Your services are no longer required, gentlemen.”
The men looked up in shock. The oldest and most experienced of them tried to resist. “But you don’t understand the seriousness of the situation! The prince’s body is being poisoned by bad humors and bad blood. His body will begin to rot from the inside out if we don’t drain them, and his death will be on your conscience.”
Jess put a hand to his steel dagger. His eyes were just as steely in the morning light. “Will you go of your own accord, or must I show you out?”
The healers beat a hasty retreat.
***
Half an hour later, Jerrison was called to see Gardwig. He left his cousin under the watchful eyes of Adele—who promised not to leave him no matter what—and another member of the entourage.
***
Gardwig looked tired and sick. His swollen legs were elevated on an ottoman. “Good morning, sir,” he greeted Jess wearily.
Jess took a deep breath. “Your Majesty, I hope this morning brings you the same joy that you bring to the people of Wellster.” He paused. One glance showed that he had taken the right track. Gardwig gave a wan smile.
“How is your cousin?”
“Richard is very ill, Your Majesty. The healers said that he is suffering from bad blood.”
“Then it must be drained.”
“Richard has declined the procedure, Your Majesty.”
“Why is that?” Jess caught a dangerous note in Gardwig’s voice. “Does he not trust the art of our healers?”
Jess bowed low before replying. He knew he must tread carefully. After a brief pause, he assured the king that Wellster’s healers were worth their weight in gold, and that Richard had the greatest faith in them, but that he had seen his stepmother, Queen Jessamine, die of bloodletting and did not wish to undergo the procedure. If he grew worse, Jess promised, he would insist that his cousin allow the bloodletting. In the meantime, he would be happy to take the emetic to his cousin and, of course, he would spend day and night at his side.
Gardwig nodded regally. “My daughter had much to say about His Highness’ courage last night. He risked his life to save her. I expect that she will wish to be of assistance to you.”
Jess assured him that the delegation from Ativerna would always be pleased to see his daughter. After another round of compliments, the king let him go.
***
When he returned to his post, Anna was already at her hero’s bedside. Richard was pretending to be asleep. None of the Ativernese had any intention of leaving her alone with him. This visibly displeased her, but she sensibly said nothing. Jess was politeness itself, but after two hours, he sent her away. At a slight gesture from Richard, he sent the others away, as well.
Once they were alone, he showed the prince the emetic that had been prescribed for him and agreed to toss it down the hole in the privy. Then he gave Richard a bowl of steaming broth and lay down next to his bed on a mattress the servants had brought for him.
The Earl of Earton was feeling resolute. An executioner with an axe couldn’t have driven him away from the prince’s bed. He loved Richard like a brother. They had grown up together, pairing up in games against Amalia and Edmond, whom Jess had never been able to stand. Jyce was often away from home, and kind Jessamine had always taken in Jess and Amalia for nice, long visits.
Remembering his wonderful childhood, Jess could have kicked himself for his stupidity.
Why did I have to get so carried away during the hunt? I kill enough game when I’m at home. There was no need to set records here.
He thought back to his state of mind the previous day and realized that he had wanted to relax and forget himself because he was getting sick of Wellster and everything in it. He was tired of Gardwig’s overbearing hospitality, his jester’s cruel jokes, the looks of longing that the younger princesses shot at him, and the false friendship offered by the courtiers.
I feel like a fly right before the spider eats it. That’s why I wanted to hunt—so I could forget about everything and enjoy myself for a while. What a stupid mistake!
He rolled over to look at his cousin’s sleeping form.
Richard, if you get over this, I swear I’ll sell my pack of hounds. Please get better…
***
“My Lady, there’s trouble outside. One of the Virmans got into a fight with one of the grooms.” Ilona’s eyes were as round as saucers.
“Bloody hell!” Lily exclaimed when she heard the news. “What started it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What were they saying?”
“They called each other little shits.” She covered her mouth. “Pardon me, My Lady!”
“Please continue, Ilona.”
“The groom said that he’d like to see all the Virmans drown at sea. The Virman told him that he was village scum.”
Lily’s first instinct was to curse again, but she held her temper in check this time.
I expected this kind of conflict when I brought the Virmans here. Now, I’ve got it.
“Is Leis or Erik down there?”
“Both of them, My Lady.”
“Then I will go listen.”
By the time the countess got to the courtyard, the show was almost over. The two men had been separated, and someone had poured a bucket of cold water over each of them. She could hear Erik roaring before she even opened the heavy door to the outside. Leis was doing his best to keep up. Together, they were roasting their subordinates (since Leis was captain of the castle guards, the grooms were more or less under his command).
“…have to live here…sharing…idiot…” she heard Erik rumble. His tirade was frequently punctuated by expressions he would not have used if he had known the countess could hear him.
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“…beat you like a dog…you dolt…sharing…” Leis yelled.
Lily grimaced. She did not want to distract the men, so she beckoned for Helke’s sister to come over. Loria quickly gave her the rundown on what had happened. The groom had had too much to drink and had begun complaining that he was no worse than a Virman and that he’d like to see the Virmans all drowned or hung from the nearest tree, like the pirates they were. A Virman named Elg happened to be walking by just then, so he knocked the groom off his seat. The disagreement quickly devolved into a fistfight.
The countess shook her head. This was bad. She knew all about racism and xenophobia from her previous life, and she knew what they could lead to.
Leis caught sight of the countess, and he came over and bowed.
Erik followed. “My Lady,” he said and gave a deep bow. When he looked up, Lily caught something strange in his blue eyes. Was it desire? Who cares? I don’t have time to think about that right now.
Lily raised her eyebrows. “What are we going to do?”
“Whip them both,” Erik rumbled. Leis nodded in agreement.
Lily shook her head. “That’s easy enough to do, but what started the fight in the first place?”
The men glanced at each other. It was obvious to her that they had not given that question any thought. She sighed, and then she explained that ethnic conflict was a dangerous thing. They would have to prevent it from getting out of hand.
All three were silent for a moment.
Lily spoke first. “Erik, how do Virmans turn a group of men into a strong team?”
“It happens on its own, My Lady, during battle.”
That won’t do. She shook her head.
“Or when they work hard together,” the giant continued.
The three of them smiled. The whipping was canceled, and the guilty parties were assigned to clean out the stables together all week, with the condition that if there were any more fights, the original punishment would be reinstated. Lily quietly asked the Virman children to keep an eye on them and report to her if there were problems.
On the first day, the men were too proud to speak to each other. On the second day, they realized that their work would go faster if they at least communicated. By the end of the week, they were drinking together and slapping each other on the back in the evenings.
Lily sighed with relief. I managed to keep this conflict from flaring up, but what about next time?
***
“I am pleased to see you, Leir Tremain.”
“You have my respect, Baron Avermal.”
The men bowed, and Hans got down to business. “Lord Avermal, I just arrived here from Earton.”
“How is the countess? Isn’t she a charming woman?”
“She asked me to bring you some things. I have instructed the sailors to unload the trunk here.”
Torius did not particularly care for Virmans, but he could put up with them in the name of trade. He also saw no reason to express his feelings openly in front of the king’s envoy. He glanced over at the trunk.
“Is that all?”
“That is what she sent. But there is another thing. I need to use your jail. And I will need a larger ship. I have with me a murderer, several dozen slave traders and a band of mercenaries.”
Torius stared at him. “What? Why…”
“I am taking them with me from Earton. The murderer attempted to kill the countess. The slave traders attacked the estate shortly thereafter, and the band of mercenaries was apprehended right before I planned to leave. It seems they were also sent to put an end to the countess’ life.”
“How horrible! Who would dare do such a thing?”
“There are all sorts of people in the world,” Hans said evasively, “for now, at least.”
The men commiserated for a few moments on the large numbers of brigands and other undesirables plaguing the kingdom, after which Torius gave his permission to use the jail and promised to outfit a ship as quickly as he could to facilitate Hans’ trip back to the capital.
Hans went back to his rooms to rest. Torius, on the other hand, sat down right away to read his letter. As always, Lilian Earton was polite but infuriatingly concise. Her letter informed the mayor that what she had sent him was an entirely new thing she had developed. If the honorable baron found it to be commercially successful, she could send many more of the same. This was followed by a list of materials she would need to continue her work. Torius decided to look at the list in detail later. He turned his attention to the trunk. It wasn’t very big. He wondered what on earth of any value the countess could have sent.
When he opened the trunk, what he saw took his breath away. It was a cloud of something pink, the color of the dawn. (Lily had decided to use up her predecessor’s large stash of pink silk thread.) Under the countess’ direction, the dressmakers had turned the silk thread into a true miracle: lace combs and lace shawls. The box also contained a sketch showing how to wear the various items.
Torius sat back on his heels and called for his wife. He soon regretted it, because she took the best of the combs and—without the need for instructions—put it in her hair. Then she took the largest shawl, wrapped it around her shoulders, and refused to give back either item. Torius begged and wheedled, but his lady was obstinate. It did not take him long to realize that the lost profits would cost him less than war with his wife.
After lifting out the rest of the shawls, he saw several different types of men’s lace collars. He tried one on and looked at himself in the polished piece of silver that he used as a mirror. Pleased by what he saw, he realized that the handiwork the countess had sent would sell quite nicely. Local craftsmen knew how to make a narrow braid for trimming coats and dresses, but Torius Avermal suspected he was the first man in the world to see such large expanses of lace, and it was all covered with beads.
People will rip these out of my hands! I must write to the countess immediately and send her as much thread as I can find.
Then he noticed a tightly wrapped package lying under the lace collars. When he opened it, another chunk of his profits disappeared, because his wife grabbed one of the mirrors and announced she would keep it for her very own. There was a note attached to the wrapper, which said that the mirrors were easily broken, but that they would last for many years if handled with care.
Torius shook his head. A mirror made of glass! He had never seen himself so clearly before. He could see his own face in great detail, much better than when he gazed into a pool of water or a sheet of polished metal.
I may just keep one of these for myself. I’ll make enough in profits to justify the cost.
He looked back at the trunk. What else is inside?
***
As it turned out, the trunk also contained several dozen inkwells made of colored glass and a supply of pens, as well as three simple jewelry boxes. Torius opened one of the jewelry boxes and gasped for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day; it contained several amber brooches. The honey-colored amber shone and sparkled in the sunlight. He noticed that one of the brooches was made of extremely rare red amber. The setting was very simple, tastefully highlighting the priceless stone.
Torius ran a finger over its smooth surface. He took it out of the box and turned it over. The clasp was like nothing he had ever seen before. He looked up at his wife’s shining eyes. “No, my dear. This one is too expensive.”
“But Torius!”
“You may wear it once to church if you like.”
“Torius!”
“My dear, I cannot afford to buy you everything you take a liking to.”
Mortally offended, she wrapped her new shawl tighter around her shoulders and ran out of the room. Torius ran a finger over the polished pieces of amber. They were truly beautiful. Lilian Earton was a wonder. Torius never once regretted going into business with her.
An intelligent woman is capable of anything.
Your Majesty,
I must inform you that an acc
ident befell His Highness while hunting. Richard is alive, and the medicus says that he is out of danger. We must remain in Wellster over the winter while he regains his strength.
I am proud to say that he behaved like a true hero. Princess Anna’s horse bolted during the hunt, and he pursued her on his own steed. His entourage was not able to keep up with him. Not long afterward, the hunters disturbed a bobcat, and it attacked the princess. Richard was harmed while protecting her. His wounds are healing.
Gardwig has the greatest esteem for His Highness’ noble act and has provided all the assistance that is required. The princess spends day and night by Richard’s bedside.
Jess dipped his pen in ink, shook off a droplet, and quickly kept writing.
Your Majesty, what happened is largely my fault. I should not have left Richard alone during the hunt. I will accept any punishment you give me. There is no excuse for what I did, and I do not ask for leniency. If my cousin had died, I would have fallen on my sword.
Your devoted servant,
Jerrison, Earl of Earton
He sprinkled the letter with sand. Once it dried, he sealed and sent it. Jess was certain the Duke of Falion, the formal head of the delegation, would write a letter of his own to the king. Jess knew that he deserved punishment, but he still couldn’t stand the duke.
Falion is an arrogant old rascal. Why did Uncle Edward put him in charge of the delegation?
It was probably an issue of politics. The Falions were an ancient noble family, and their lands were on the border with Wellster, meaning the duke would be the first to suffer if a conflict broke out. Jess admitted to himself that the duke might be a rascal, but he was nobody’s fool. He grimaced.
The duke would have stopped me from bringing Adele along if he could. Thankfully, Uncle Edward gave his personal consent. He remembers what it’s like to be young.
Jess knew Richard shared his opinion of the duke. Falion was prone to giving them long talks about honor and proper behavior, and he had ruined many a pleasant evening of drinking. However, he had his uses, and someone had to attend all the official events on behalf of Ativerna. Why not let the old man do it?
***
Falion did his best to live up to the nickname the other courtiers had given him, which was “shark face”. When Jess brought him the sealed letter, the man took it and studied the writing on the outside. Then he looked up with a sneer.
Palace Intrigue (Medieval Tale Book 3) Page 6