But he didn’t faint.
They were nearing the crest of the hill when a dozen riders appeared. The men halted a short distance away.
“My lord!” one of them called. “We have been searching for you since day break.”
The man closet to them dismounted. “Here, my lord, take my horse.”
With a nod, Reyes put his foot in the stirrup. He took a deep breath, then swung his leg over the saddle. “Bring the woman.” Clucking to the horse, he rode toward the castle.
The rider who had given Reyes his mount lifted Shanara and settled her behind one of the other men. The men followed their lord back to the castle. The riderless knight ran behind them.
Shanara let out a sigh as they rode through the gates into the keep. She was his prisoner yet again.
Chapter Five
Shanara followed one of Reyes’ men up the stairs. He showed her to a room where the two gray clad women who had looked after her before awaited. She frowned trying to remember their names. Beatrice and Alyce, if she recalled aright. In less time than she would have thought possible, the maids had removed her clothing, washed her from neck to heel and then wrapped her in a towel.
“Now,” said Beatrice, tapping her foot. “What shall she wear?”
“The mauve velvet,” said Alyce.
Beatrice shook her head. She was the elder of the two, with brown hair, gray eyes, and a sweet, motherly face. “Nay, Alyce, the green silk. It matches her eyes, and you know it is Lord Reyes’ favorite color.”
“Then I shall wear the mauve,” Shanara decided. She had not missed the smirk on Alyce’s face.
“Will you not reconsider?” Beatrice asked hopefully. She ran her hand over the green velvet. “Tis a lovely gown.”
Shanara shook her head. “The mauve.”
With a sigh of resignation, Beatrice helped Shanara into the mauve gown. She brushed Shanara’s hair until it gleamed, then swept it away from her face with a pair of jeweled combs.
“You look lovely,” Beatrice declared. “Does she not, Alyce?”
The younger woman nodded sullenly.
“Come along,” Beatrice said, and Shanara followed her down the corridor to a door she recognized all too well. It led to his bedchamber.
With a smile, Beatrice opened the door. When Shanara didn’t move, the woman gave her a little push, then closed the door behind her.
The room was dark and smelled of candle wax and herbs. A fire blazed in the hearth. She took a step toward the huge four-poster bed in the center of the room.
Reyes lay under a mound of heavy blankets. As she drew nearer, she could hear the sound of his labored breathing. His brow was covered with perspiration.
Moving to his bedside, she called his name.
He stirred restlessly at the sound of her voice.
Shanara laid her hand on his shoulder. His skin was hot. Now that she was close, she could see that the wound in his shoulder was discolored and swollen. He groaned when she ran her fingertips over the wound.
Leaving the room, she went down to the kitchen. The cook looked up, startled to find a stranger in her domain.
“I need some hot water,” Shanara said, “and a pot of strong willow bark tea. I also need a poultice to draw poison from a wound, a sharp knife, and a needle and thread.”
“Who are you to give me orders in my own kitchen?” the cook demanded, waving a big wooden spoon in Shanara’s face. “Be gone from my kitchen this instant!”Holding her ground, Shanara drew herself up to her full height. “If you refuse to do as I ask and Lord Reyes surrenders to the fever burning within him, his death will be upon your head. And I imagine your own demise will soon follow.”
The cook’s eyes widened; then, without another word, she began to fill a clean pot with water.
Certain her orders would be obeyed, Shanara returned to Reyes’ bedchamber. Crossing the room, she threw open one of the windows, then dragged all but one of the blankets off the bed.
