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sounded thoroughly disgusted.
"Oh, it's not that," she said, torn between laughter and weeping. "We've been keeping you wet to
bring down the fever. It worked, too. Your mattress
is soaked, but it's thanks to us, not you, I promise. As soon as the singing stops, I'll find Brother
Anselm and ask him to help me move you to a dry bed. Then we'll feed you."
"No need to wait for the priests," said a familiar masculine voice. "I will move Dominick."
Startled, Gina looked up into the blue eyes of the king of the Franks.
"I couldn't sleep," Charles said. "It's a recent affliction. I'm sure you understand the cause. I came
to see how Dominick is faring."
"Well enough," Dominick answered for himself before Gina could speak. "I can stand up to walk to
another bed." He made as if to rise, then collapsed back against the pillows.
"You look and sound as weak as a newborn kitten," Charles said to him. "I forbid you to try to get
out of bed on your own. Lady Gina, tell me exactly where the wound is, so I don't tear it open again
when I lift him."
"Let me dry him first," Gina said, "and prepare the bed next to this one." She wasn't going to raise
any protest about the king helping her to move Dominick. In her opinion, Charles owed a serious
debt to both of them.
Charles waited patiently while she uncovered Dominick and used a towel on him. He was so thin,
his muscles wasted from dehydration and from days of lying in bed, and his cheeks were pale as
ashes above the blond beard that had grown while he was too sick to shave. But he was awake,
and, as far as she could tell, he was in his right mind, so she wasn't going to worry about anything
else for the moment.
The bed next to Dominick's was made up with
clean sheets and a quilt, in case a patient arrived unexpectedly. All Gina had to do was turn back
the covers and pile up a few dry pillows to keep Dominick's head elevated.
When she was ready, Charles lifted Dominick into his brawny arms as if the indomitable warrior
weighed no more than a baby, and laid him down again with great tenderness.
"What has happened to you is, in some measure, my doing," Charles said, looking down at
Dominick while Gina pulled up the quilt. "I give you my word, nothing like it will ever happen again."
There came the hurried sound of sandaled feet entering the infirmary, and then a pair of gasps.
Brother Anselm and one of his assistants had arrived. Both men halted abruptly when they
recognized Charles.
"Sir," exclaimed Brother Anselm, "I am surprised to see you here."
"It's clear to me you've performed a blessed service in your care of Dominick," Charles said. "You
and your assistants have my deep thanks, Brother Anselm. I won't forget what you've done.
"Dominick," Charles went on, turning back to the man on the bed, "when you are feeling strong
enough, Gina will answer all your questions. I don't want to tire you further, so I'll bid you a good
nights rest."
"Good night, my lord," said Brother Anselm looking somewhat flustered as Charles departed. I
"Lady Gina, what has happened in my absence?"
"As you see, the fever broke, and Dominick is awake. He complained of being cold, so we moved
him to a dry bed."
"I am amazed and confounded," said Brother Anselm, shaking his head as he observed
Dominick.
"Why should you be?" asked his assistant. "Our prayers have been answered. Even as we knelt
in the church, praying for Count Dominick's recovery, he awakened. It's a miracle!"
"He won't be awake for long if we don't feed him," Gina said, afraid that all the priests and brothers
would come traipsing into the infirmary to have a look at the miracle man and, by their well-meant
but tiring attentions, drive Dominick back into a state of unconsciousness.
"Broth," said Brother Anselm, meeting Gina's warning look. "I recommend freshly boiled chicken
broth, served in a clean bowl."
"I want meat," Dominick said.
"Perhaps a bit of day-old bread crumbled into the broth," Brother Anselm suggested in a
conciliatory way.
"Perfect," Gina responded with a smile so bright that both brothers blinked at her.
"Meat," Dominick muttered.
"Broth," Brother Anselm repeated, and he departed for the kitchen to find some.
"Are you all deaf?" asked Dominick. "I want meat!"
"That's a sure sign of recovery," said the assistant brother. "Every man becomes difficult as soon
as he begins to feel better. If he tries to get out of bed or calls for his sword, just yell for me, Lady
Gina. I'll be seeing to the other patients."
I am not being difficult," Dominick said. "I'm just hungry."
"You have been very sick," Gina told him, "and
you will remain weak for some time yet, so do as Brother Anselm advises. He's a fine physician."
"What happened to me?" Dominick asked. "I know where I am, but why am I here?"
"We were attacked by Fastrada's people," Gina began. Hoping to keep him lying quietly in bed, at
least until Brother Anselm returned, she told him all of it, including Charles's decision to keep
Fastrada under what amounted to house arrest, with her loyal attendants removed from court.
She decided the almost-empty infirmary was private enough to satisfy Charles's restrictions on
repeating the sordid tale.
"Dominick, you saved my life," Gina ended her story. "You attacked a gigantic war horse with an
eating knife. I never imagined such bravery existed in this world."
"Were you hurt?" he asked, holding her fingers in a surprisingly tight grip.
"Only a minor wound that's well on its way to healing," she said. "So are Lady Adalhaid and Harulf [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]