Page 41 of Bloom
“Uh-huh.” It was faint, but Jaime heard his reply.
Olivier’s face further pinched as he pointed at the short bottle he’d mixed. “Give him the whole thing. Don’t spill it. Give him one spoonful of this.” He tapped the cork on a jar of greenish liquid with leafy bits floating in it. “Two teaspoons of this.” He touched a bigger bottle filled with murky liquid and pointed at a cup with a spoon by it. “Put the doses in the cup and support his head if he needs it.”
Jaime was pretty sure the murky medicine was the same nasty shit Mother had given him once when he was small and sniffly. It had smelled and tasted like cod liver oil, although other things had been in it, and he’d hated it. “Okay. Whole bottle. One spoonful of the green shit in the jar, and two from the big bottle.”
“Give him water too.”
“Out,” gasped Aleric.
Lord Monet and the physician left. Once the door shut, Jaime approached. “Why do you want me to give it to you?”
He had an idea although it was quite childish. Aleric was a damn adult.
“Put it in the c-cup,” whispered Aleric. “Dump it down the privy. The bottle too.”
Jaime paused with the bottle. “What? No.”
“Do it. He’ll think you gave it to me if he checks…the level.”
“No!” Jaime kept his voice low. “I know you’re sick and feel like absolute shit. You can’t avoid it just because it tastes bad or whatever. We’re trying to help you.”
“Jaime,” gasped Aleric.
“What? I’m right here.”
“Please. Do it. Everything he said to give…”
Jaime crouched by the bed. “Aleric, why are you being like-”
Aleric slipped a hand out from under the blanket to grip his arm. “Dump it. He’s trying to kill me.”
“Huh?” Had the fever fried his senses? “No, he’s not. I don’t know what you were dreaming-”
“It’s poison. Everything he gave me yesterday…it shouldn’t be this hard to breathe. My heart-”
“Aleric, listen to me. You lost a lot of blood, and you have a fever from an infection.”
Aleric’s fingers dug into Jaime’s forearm. “...tried to kill me last month. I wasn’t feverish then. I didn’t dream it…”
Jaime paused as he tried to think if that was all a sickness-induced nightmare too.
“This isn’t normal,” whispered Aleric. “My lungs…”
Jaime had never seen anyone with an infection after a serious injury. Everyone who’d fought that one night was dead. He was the only one who’d lived. Nobody in the village had ever been seriously injured, and he had nothing to compare it to.
Three men had tried to kill Aleric just yesterday. Andy had played a part because someone had made him do it. The enemy isn’t always outside, and a physician can be a part of a plot tooeven though in most cases, a person's first instinct is to trust the one who can heal and make medicine.
“What am I supposed to give you?”
“Nothing. Don’t trust anything Olivier gives you.”
Was Jaime actually considering this? What if Aleric was hallucinating? Who knew what he’d dreamed the night before? He could be twisting reality with dreams, and if the medicine was fine, he’d be denying Aleric something he needed to live.
“I don’t want to die like this. They’ll hold me down. Like last night…force me to drink it-I won’t last another night.”
If the physician was trying to kill Aleric, he’d have money to hire someone. He knew all sorts of people who also had money and connections.
Maybe Zacharie was a part of this. He hadn’t visited. A young man who came later might very well decide his older brother is worth sacrificing. Lord Monet likely wouldn’t even suspect him.
