Page 100 of Historical Hotties
There was no reply, but he thought he might have seen her twitch. Her eyeballs seemed to be rolling around beneath the closed lids.
That spurred him on to continue talking.
“Darian told me about Amata,” he said. “So did your grandfather. He suggested that Amata’s apology to you did not go well and I must say, I support whatever you said or did. For everything she’s done to you, the woman deserves worse than she received, I am certain. I saw you slap her once, and it was deserved, so can I assume that there was more of the same. Did you slap her right out of the window? I have thrown a few bodies out of the window myself, lately. But that’s a story for another time. Or, mayhap I’ll tell you now. It all started when four Maltravers soldiers came to the tavern for some respite. That’s not what they got. One of them said that Argo should be killed and a rug made out of his hide, and that started a nasty fight. But no one says that about our dog and lives to tell the tale. He may be ugly, but he isourugly.”
With that, he looked under the bed, calling Argos forth, who gladly came out and jumped on the bed next to Dacia. The dog laid right next to her, licking her on her chin. Cassius snorted.
“Angel, if you do not wake up and fight off the dog, he is going to lick you to his heart’s content,” he said “I will not pull him off you. That is your prerogative.”
He continued to chuckle as the dog licked happily, but Dacia didn’t move, so he eventually called the dog off. Argos laid his head down beside her and promptly fell asleep.
“He is weary like you are,” he said as the dog began to snore. “He has had an exhausting day. We both have. But I do not want to miss a moment with you, angel. Watching you sleep… there is nothing better that I could ever think of.”
He kissed her cheek again, stroking her forehead tenderly. She twitched again, a little stronger this time, and his heart leapt with anticipation. Was she finally coming around? Or was it her death throes? He knew it was morbid to think such things, but in his state of despair, he couldn’t help those thoughts.
To distract himself, he began to talk.
More talk.
Not knowing what else to do or say, he started from his childhood. He spoke of his birth at Berwick Castle, the second of six children. He spoke of his upbringing, how he spent one summer in Bjorgvin, the big city where his grandfather lived. He spoke of learning the Northman’s language, at his grandfather’s insistence, but it was a difficult language to learn. He spoke of his father actually having to sail across the sea to collect him and his older brother because Magnus had decided to keep them just a little while longer. His father and grandfather had very strong words over Magnus wanting to keep his grandchildren.
He was never allowed to visit his grandfather again after that.
The sun eventually set, casting ribbons of pink and orange light into the chamber, only to gently fade away as the veil of night fell. Edie silently entered the dark chamber, bringing tapers with her and lighting the other tapers around the chamber, filling it with a soft and golden light.
Cassius was sitting on the ground now, next to the bed, still talking about anything he could think of. Edie smiled timidly at him as she went about lighting the tapers and he smiled back, weakly, letting her know that her presence was welcome. She was just in time to experience a series of dog farts, so powerful that even Cassius’ eyes watered. All of that beef he’d fed the dog back at the tavern was having an effect on the canine’s guts, so Edie found a fan that Dacia sometimes used in the summertime and fanned all of that horrific smell towards the windows. Cassius ended up laughing so hard that he wept.
He was hoping the noxious fumes might stir Dacia and, indeed, she did stir a little.
That nasty but powerful smell gave him hope.
He kept talking.
The night deepened and Edie brought Cassius some stew and bread, which he gratefully devoured as he told Dacia about his training at Kenilworth Castle and then later at Lioncross Abbey Castle, seat of the House of de Lohr. He told stories about older knights who liked to target him and his brothers because they were so tall, and it was a triumph to be able to best the massive de Wolfe brothers. He was quite proud in saying that no man had ever bested him or his older brother, though Titus and Magnus had been taken down more than once.
Towards midnight, Cassius began to grow weary. He’d talked a blue streak for hours on end and now that he was completely sober, his head was beginning to ache and his body screamed for sleep. He was just finishing a story about a wedding feast at Bamburgh Castle a few years before that included a massive tournament when there was a soft knock at the door. Cassius turned to see Father Lazarus being ushered in by Edie.
In truth, Cassius wasn’t sure how he felt about the man’s appearance. He knew that Father Lazarus had been Dacia’s ally when the rumors were flying but, somehow, he didn’t like seeing the man in the chamber. As if Dacia needed last rites or absolution. Stiffly, he moved to stand up but Father Lazarus waved him down.
“Nay, my lord, please stay where you are,” he said. “The duke sent word to St. George’s, telling us of Lady Dacia’s illness. I have come to see how the lady is faring and pray for her full recovery. I hope you do not mind.”
In truth, Cassius didn’t. She needed all the prayers she could get. He motioned the man towards the bed.
“Come in, Father,” he said. “Your concern, once again, is appreciated.”
Father Lazarus smiled as he came near the bed, his gaze inevitably moving to Dacia, pale and unmoving.
His smile faded.
“The poor lass,” he said sadly. “I have known her for most of her life. She has suffered so much. Losing her mother and father at a young age, being cursed with people around her who did not love her like they should have. Even so, she was always good to the poor and the sick. She took care of those who needed tending. And now… this.”
Cassius was looking at Dacia, feeling the impact of Father Lazarus’ words. They were words one would say at a funeral and he didn’t like it one bit.
“She will recover,” he said firmly. “She is simply exhausted and the powder she was given has had a lasting effect. But she will awaken soon.”
He sounded so positive that he was clearly in the realm of denial. Father Lazarus looked at him, hearing anguish in those words as well.
But he wasn’t going to dispute Cassius.
