The King's Sons (The Herezoth Trilogy) by Grefer Victoria

Author:Grefer, Victoria [Grefer, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-05-29T07:00:00+00:00

The councilor’s eyes flew open when she heard Zacry return to her room in Oakdowns. Francie’s brief rest had cleared her vision, though her eyes still itched, and she watched as a short, plump woman, light on her feet, followed him in. Her bright red hair was speckled with much gray, but her full face was barely wrinkled despite her sixty years. She rushed as though on wings to start a full examination of the invalid, starting with her blotchy, damaged face.

It hurt daggers to smile, but Francie couldn’t help it. She had to smile. She knew this woman’s airy step, her full frame. She had always known her: Vane’s aunt, Fontferry’s most popular innkeeper in years past and caretaker of the chickens of solemn oath.

“Teena,” Francie rasped. She placed a hand on the old woman’s, and Teena’s resolve broke. Her eyes filled with tears.

Zacry said, “I went for her before you came to. Vane’s request.”

Bless Vane. Francie had told him she needed a mother; Teena was the closest thing to that either of them had known.

“You poor dear! You poor, brave….”

“I’ll live, Teena.”

“So you will, and be stronger for it. I’ve seen this before, great loss of blood. You’re no weaker than Vane was when that madman stabbed him, and Vane made a full recovery. He had no smoke in his system, now….”

Zacry assured the nurse, “We’ve done all anyone can for that. I don’t think any complications from the fire will prove permanent. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“You should drink,” Teena insisted.

Francie said, “My throat’s in tatters from the fumes.”

“It won’t be pleasant, dear, but you must have water. You must. A moment of pain, and after, it’ll do you a world of good. It must be hours since you’ve drunk a thing.”

“It has,” Francie admitted.

Teena poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the second bedside table; the first had a bowl filled with black liquid and soiled towels. Francie hadn’t noticed that before: someone had cleaned her before she’d come to, and braided her hair, she realized. To keep her cool. Zacry explained, “My niece. She wanted to do you a kindness. A great admirer of yours.”

“Admirer?”

“For your work on the council. All you’ve done for Herezoth. She’s always looked up to you, Francie. You should meet her at some point when you’re conscious.”

“Thank her for me.”

Zacry said, “You can thank her by drinking some water.”

Francie gave in, and let Teena raise the glass to her lips. She tilted her head back, so the water would slide down her searing throat without too strong a swallow. She drank the whole glass that way, then settled down to rest. Teena said she would have some cooled porridge for her when she woke up. Zacry cast his sleeping spell, and Francie slipped into sweet, painless, thoughtless oblivion.

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