Page 3 of The Guardian's Witch

“John? Why did you send him and not one of the messengers?” asked Bryce.

Ah, Bryce was with him too. Someone, he suspected Ann, straightened the bed linen with a gentle touch.

“There aren’t many left in service. The king’s protectors scared them away.” Ann gave the linen a final tug.

“You mean the rumors of the curse.” Bryce’s voice held a bitter edge of cynicism.

“No, not because of the rumors, which are ridiculous, but because over the last two years no one in this castle has cared about the village or the people.” She dipped her head toward Alex. “Except for him.”

“Bryce?” Alex’s whispered words went unheard. Exhausted and in pain, he fought to open his eyes, to no avail. He would not surrender control. Instead he struggled to take in bits and pieces of the conversation.

Barely able to stay awake, Alex glimpsed Bryce turn a curious eye to him. Bryce shook his head and gave Ann his attention. “He’ll not be happy having her minister to him.”

“Lord Mitchell, she may be his last hope.”

Alex caught the worry in her voice. He gritted his teeth and remained motionless. He could feel it building. He braced for another wave of pain that would sweep over him.

“Why, Ann, you’re fond of the man and still you bring in the witch? She’s exiled herself to the old hunting lodge. Best she stays there.” The words hung in the room. “But I suppose she won’t be there much longer.”

Alex knew from experience the hostile glare that accompanied the sound in Bryce’s voice.

“M’lord, I know your feelings about the girl. I don’t understand. I remember the way you followed each other around when you were children. We both know she’s no witch.”

“Then explain her unusual power with herbs and tonics.”

“She’s no different than her mother, rest her soul. She too was a gifted healer. That doesn’t make either of them witches. Didn’t Lady Darla help you when you broke your arm so badly everyone thought it had to be cut off?”

Alex could feel the anger rolling off Bryce but he couldn’t dwell on it. He knew more than saw his close friend flex the fist of his sword arm. A sudden pinch of pain and he stiffened himself for another surge of agony.

Ann hovered over him. “His fever worsens. He’ll not last the night.”

The worry in Ann’s voice compelled Alex to fight through the cobwebs and remain alert.

“I’m surprised he’s lasted this long.” Bryce whispered. “What will I tell the king?”

The slap of riding gloves against Bryce’s thigh startled Alex.

“I told Alex the thieving Scots couldn’t be trusted. I’d lead the English against them myself if the king would bring up his men from Wales.”

Suffering the incessant pain was useless. He had to take command. Concentrate. He needed to concentrate. Little by little he fought to control his body. His eyes fluttered opened. He was unprepared for the assault of light streaming in from the window. He raised his hand to shield them and gathered his wits amidst his aching head.

Ann rushed, pulled the shutters closed to darken the room and returned to his side.

A cool cloth touched his feverish forehead. He silently thanked the angel. With his eyes closed, he relaxed and let the soothing cloth take him to a tranquil place. A few more minutes and he would try again.

A gentle knock brought him back to the present. The hinge creaked and a cool breeze danced across his damp face. Thankfully, the pain subsided enough for him to pry open his eyes again. Lisbeth glided silently into the room. Her long brown cloak billowed out around her and gave the eerie appearance she floated on air. Through narrow slits he detected her shadow approach. A fresh scent seeped into the stale room. He sniffed the familiar light evergreen mixed with mint, rosemary and spicy floral scent. Lavender. She handed Ann her small healing kit and cloak. In his dazed state he could still make out the outline of her black mourning dress next to him.

Something primal and compelling kept Alex conscious. He was always aware when she was near. Her soft lilting murmur drove the buzzing from his head. The ache eased into a dull roar. Everything was a struggle, staying awake, keeping his eyes open. Faith, breathing was an effort. He squinted and worked hard to take in the scene. There were a few minutes left before the light once again would be unbearable. He needed to rest his eyes, but not right now. He forced himself to stay in command of his senses.

“Good day, Lisbeth. I’ll leave you to your patient.” Bryce’s voice was courteous yet arrogant.

Mine.The whispered thought rang in his head. The very idea startled him.

Lisbeth looked at Bryce. “Good day, Bryce.” Alex heard the touch of sadness in her voice. Then all was quiet.

The flexing fist at Bryce’s side was not lost on Alex. Neither was Bryce’s discomfort at Lisbeth’s silence and steady stare.

“Ann, send word when...I will need to tell the king,” Bryce mumbled. The door closed behind him.

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