Part 6 (1/2)
At his words, he saw color return to her face, watched the dullness clear from her eyes. He came to the foot of the bed, which was draped in deep red velvet. ”You recover quickly, madam.”
”The tonic is potent.” Indeed she now felt clear of mind, and even the echoes of pain were fading from her body. ”Thank you for your help.
His mother and father would have been too distraught to a.s.sist. Their worry could have distracted me. More, fear feeds death.”
She glanced around the room, a little warily. Orna hadn't laid out her nightrobe. ”If you'd excuse me now, I'll go see for myself.”
”Not tonight.”
To her shock he sat on the side of the bed near her. Only pride kept her from s.h.i.+fting over, or tugging up the blankets.
”I have questions.”
”I've answered several of your questions already.”
He lifted his brows. ”Now I have more. The boy was dying. His skull crushed, his neck damaged if not broken. His left arm was shattered.” ”Yes,” she said calmly. ”And inside his body, more was harmed. He bled inside himself. So much blood for such a little boy. But he has a strong heart, our Phelan. He is particularly precious to me.”
”He would have been dead in minutes.”
”He is not dead.”
”Why?”
”I can't answer.” Restlessly, she pushed at her hair. ”I can't explain it to you.”
”Won't.”
”Can't.”
When she would have turned her face away, he caught her chin, held it firmly. ”Try.”
”You overstep,” she said stiffly. ”Continually.”
”Then you should be growing accustomed to it. I held the boy,” he reminded her. ”I watched, and I felt life come back into him. Tell me what you did.”
She wanted to dismiss him, but he had helped her when she'd needed his help. So she would try. ”It's a kind of search, and a merging. An opening of both.” She lifted a hand, let it fall. ”It is a kind of faith, if you will.”
”It caused you pain.”
”Do you think fighting death is painless? You know better. To heal, I must feel what he feels, and bring him up...” She shook her head, frustrated with words. ”Take him back to the pain. Then we ride it together, so that I see, feel, know.”
”You rode more than pain. You rode death. I saw you.”
”We were stronger.”
”And if you hadn't been?”
”Then death would have won,” she said simply. ”And a mother would be grieving her firstborn tonight.”
”And you? Deirdre of the Ice, would your people be grieving you?”
”There is a risk. Do you turn from battle, Kylar? Or do you face it knowing your life might be the price paid at end of day? Would you not stand for any one of your people if they had need? Would you expect me to do less for one of mine?”
”I was not one of yours.” He took her hand before she could look away. ”You rode death with me, Deirdre. I remember. I thought it a dream, but I remember. The pain, as if the sword cut into me fresh. That same pain mirrored in your eyes as you looked down at me. The heat of your body, the heat of your life pouring into me. I was nothing to you.”
”You were a man. You were hurt.” She reached out now, laying her hand on his cheek. ”Why are you angry? Should I have let you die because my medicines weren't enough to save you? Should I have stepped back from you and my own gift because it would cause me a moment's pain to save you? Does your pride bleed now because a woman fought for your life?”
”Perhaps it does.” He closed his hand over her wrist. ”When I carried you in here I thought you would die, and I was helpless.”
”You stayed with me. That was kind.”
He made some sound, then pushed himself off the bed to pace. ”When a man goes into battle, Deirdre, it's sword to sword, lance to lance, fist to fist. These are tangible things. What you've done, magic or miracle, is so much more. And you were right. I can't understand it.”
”It changes how you think of me.”
”Yes.”
She lowered her lashes, hid the fresh pain. ”There is no shame in it.
Most men would not have stayed to help, certainly not have stayed to speak with me. I'm grateful. Now if you'd excuse me, I'd like to be alone.”
Slowly, he turned back to her. ”You misunderstand me. Before I thought of you as a woman-beautiful, strong, intelligent. Sad. Now I think of you as all of that, and so much more. You humble me. You expect me to step away from you, because of all you are. I can't. I want to be with you, and I have no right.”
With her heart unsteady, she looked at him again. ”Is it grat.i.tude that draws you to me?”
”I am grateful. I owe you for every breath I take. But it isn't grat.i.tude I feel when I look at you.”
She slid out of bed to stand on her own feet. ”Is it desire?”
”I desire you.”
”I've never had a man's arms around me in love. I want them to be yours.”
”What right do I have when I can't stay with you? I should already be gone. Both my family and my people wait.”
”You give me truth, and truth means more than pretty words and empty promises. I wondered about this, and now I know. When I healed you I felt something I've never felt before. Mixed with the pain and the cold that comes into me so bitter there was... light.”
Watching him, she spread her hands. ”I said I did nothing to bind you to me, and that is truth. But something happened in me when I was part of you. It angered me, and it frightened me. But now, just now...” She drew a breath and spoke without a blush. ”It excites me. I've been so cold. Give me one night of warmth. You said you wanted me willing.”
She reached up, tugged the ribbons loose from the bodice of the nightdress. ”And I am,” she said as the white gown slid down to pool at her feet.
Chapter 7
She was a vision. Mote than he could have dreamed. Slim and small, she stood in the glow of candle and firelight.