Celtic Tempest (Celtic Storm Series Book 2) by Ria Cantrell

Author:Ria Cantrell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2014-02-03T00:00:00+00:00

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Drew’s fever raged for days. He slipped in and out of consciousness. He coughed painfully and an audible wheeze was constant as he slept. He was alternately packed in cold wet wraps to bring down fever, and then bundled in warm blankets and furs to stave off the ever present chills. Finally, at long last, on the third such day, Drew’s fever broke. He woke, soaked in his own sweat and with teeth chattering, he opened his eyes. They felt like there had been weights tied to his eyelids as he struggled to raise them. The room was no longer dark as he had remembered. He was in his own chambers, and the room was awash in a warm glow, which emanated from the fire in the hearth. He saw his mother sitting beside his bed.

“What happened to me,” he croaked. His tongue felt thick in his mouth and his throat was raw. It was painful to swallow. A series of coughs rattled through him, causing pain to scorch through his bound ribs. When he tried to sit up, the burning fire burst through the wound in his leg. It nearly sent him back to the darkness, but he fought it off. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he asked again, “What happened?”

“You have been very sick with fever. Don’t you remember? You were gored by a wild boar.”

“Ahhh yes. The boar. I remember now.”

“Fever came upon you quickly. Infection set deep in the muscle of your leg. Lung sickness followed. But you will heal now. The wound has been purged. It no longer weeps the poison. It has stayed clean for more than a day now, so it will heal, too. Now, we need to get you into a fresh night shirt and put fresh linens on your bed. I fear movement will be painful, but then you can rest again.”

Drew asked for a drink and though it was painful to swallow, the cool water offered relief to his parched throat. When he drank his fill, he asked, “Bronwyn has not come?”

With head bowed, Elizabeth said, “No, son. She does not know you are sick. We had not time to bring her here. We have been trying to get you well.”

“I kept dreaming that she had come. I thought…” Drew felt her in his dreams as he had all those years ago, when he had nearly died on the battle field. The memory of it niggled at his senses. What did it mean? Was she always there, in the recesses of his mind and memories? He knew he had to return to her soon or it would be too late.

“You called for her constantly.”

Suddenly, he remembered all that had happened to him before he had succumbed to the illness. He remembered what Llerwyn had said. Drew said, “I have to go to her or I shall lose her forever. It may already be too late.”

“You are not well enough to ride. I will send word and have her come.”

“No”, he roared.

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