The Winter King
Page 164
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“Since the hunt? A week. But we don’t have the luxury of staying much longer. Coruscate is making his move.” Valik brought Wynter up to speed. “We’ve only got days—a week at most—before they reach Gildenheim.”
“We’ve got less time and more trouble than that,” Wynter said. “The Ice King’s army has gathered.”
“What?” Valik stared at him in shock. “How is that even possible? Rorjak may be close, but you’re still you. We’d know if you weren’t.”
“I don’t know how. But I know that they’ve gathered. And they know where I am. They’re on the way here.”
CHAPTER 25
Roland’s Heir
“If you move him, he will die. Can’t you see that?” Tildavera Greenleaf hissed.
Standing in the far corner of the room, and talking in heated whispers, Khamsin’s old nurse, Valik, and Laci all thought Wynter was asleep and that they were far enough away that he couldn’t overhear them. They were wrong on both counts. Tildavera’s latest potion might have kept him unconscious if he’d actually drunk it instead of spitting it in the cloth beneath his pillow, but the little bit he’d actually had to swallow had only left him pleasantly sleepy. And an acute sense of smell wasn’t the only advantage of his clan-gift. Sharpened eyesight and improved hearing made it easy to read their lips and pick up the gist of their heated exchange, even while pretending to be asleep.
Tildavera planted her hands on her hips and glared up at Valik and Galacia Frey. “It’s only a bit of thread holding his insides inside him. And only my potions keeping him sleeping peacefully instead of writhing about and screaming in pain.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Valik said. “You heard him. The Ice King’s army is headed our way. We can’t stay here. He can’t stay here.”
“If he doesn’t stay here, he won’t last the journey. You’ll kill him!”
“I’m not so easy to kill.” Wyn had tired of eavesdropping and pretending to sleep. Let them discuss their options openly. He opened his eyes and propped himself up on one arm. Pain knifed through his abdomen as the movement tugged at his wound, but he ignored it. “I’m like my wife, in that regard, for many have tried and failed. Who knows? Maybe extraordinary survivability is one of the perks of possessing a weathergift.”
The aged Summerlea nurse pushed past Valik and Laci and stalked over to his sickbed. “You are supposed to be sleeping.” Her face scrunched up in an expression of severe disapproval. She didn’t care that he was king. She chided him like she might any misbehaving schoolboy.
He almost smiled. It was clear Tildavera Greenleaf was accustomed to being in charge, and equally accustomed to speaking her mind and having her orders obeyed. But this was one order he had no intention of heeding.
“I’ve slept long enough. Khamsin told me you were the best healer in all of Mystral, and it’s clear she wasn’t exaggerating. You did a fine job bringing me back from the brink of death. I’m sure you can keep me clinging to life a while longer.”
The old woman’s lips pursed. “My patients do not ‘cling to life,’ ” she snapped. “I pride myself on their making a full and miraculous recovery. But carting them all about the countryside with their insides hanging out is not at all conducive to that outcome!”
“Did Khamsin always do as you told her?”
Tildy scowled and switched tactics. “You want to bring Khamsin into this? Fine. So, tell me, Wynter of the Craig, if you sicken and die from that wound, where will that leave her? Alone and undefended against both the Ice King’s army and the invaders from Calberna and Summerlea. And if you think that father of hers will lift a finger to ensure her safety—”
“Maybe we don’t have to move Wynter just yet,” Laci interrupted, as Wynter’s expression darkened. “Wyn, you say the Ice King’s army knows where you are, and they’re coming for you, right?”
Wyn nodded.
“Then staying here buys us time. If you’re what they want, they won’t go a hundred miles out of their way to attack Gildenheim. Ungar sounded the Valkyr’s horn. He’s assembling the army. If we stay here, we buy him time and keep the Ice King’s army away from Gildenheim—and Khamsin.”
Wynter didn’t like Laci’s logic—mostly because he didn’t like the idea of staying here, doing nothing, when enemies were on the move—but he couldn’t refute it. The last thing he wanted to do was draw the Ice King’s army towards Khamsin. “One more day.”
“Three,” Tildy countered.
He glowered at her. “That’s not an option. Two at the most. Then, whether it kills me or not, we move out.”
Once more clad in her own clothes, with the entrance to Wyrn’s secret ice palace secured and Blazing safely sheathed in the scabbard she had retrieved from a hidden compartment in Laci’s room, Kham picked up Thorgyll’s spear and headed for the public altar room to rejoin the White Guard.
The sight of the young boy standing among them brought her up short.
“Krysti! What are you doing here? I thought you were helping out with the little ones.”
Her young companion-in-mischief flashed his fearless, gamin grin. “You didn’t really expect me to stay there when I found out you’d come back. What’s that you’ve got there?” His too-observant gaze latched onto the spear in her hand. “That’s one of Thorgyll’s spears, isn’t it?” He frowned. “I thought only Lady Frey and her priestesses were allowed to touch those.”
“We’ve got less time and more trouble than that,” Wynter said. “The Ice King’s army has gathered.”
“What?” Valik stared at him in shock. “How is that even possible? Rorjak may be close, but you’re still you. We’d know if you weren’t.”
“I don’t know how. But I know that they’ve gathered. And they know where I am. They’re on the way here.”
CHAPTER 25
Roland’s Heir
“If you move him, he will die. Can’t you see that?” Tildavera Greenleaf hissed.
Standing in the far corner of the room, and talking in heated whispers, Khamsin’s old nurse, Valik, and Laci all thought Wynter was asleep and that they were far enough away that he couldn’t overhear them. They were wrong on both counts. Tildavera’s latest potion might have kept him unconscious if he’d actually drunk it instead of spitting it in the cloth beneath his pillow, but the little bit he’d actually had to swallow had only left him pleasantly sleepy. And an acute sense of smell wasn’t the only advantage of his clan-gift. Sharpened eyesight and improved hearing made it easy to read their lips and pick up the gist of their heated exchange, even while pretending to be asleep.
Tildavera planted her hands on her hips and glared up at Valik and Galacia Frey. “It’s only a bit of thread holding his insides inside him. And only my potions keeping him sleeping peacefully instead of writhing about and screaming in pain.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Valik said. “You heard him. The Ice King’s army is headed our way. We can’t stay here. He can’t stay here.”
“If he doesn’t stay here, he won’t last the journey. You’ll kill him!”
“I’m not so easy to kill.” Wyn had tired of eavesdropping and pretending to sleep. Let them discuss their options openly. He opened his eyes and propped himself up on one arm. Pain knifed through his abdomen as the movement tugged at his wound, but he ignored it. “I’m like my wife, in that regard, for many have tried and failed. Who knows? Maybe extraordinary survivability is one of the perks of possessing a weathergift.”
The aged Summerlea nurse pushed past Valik and Laci and stalked over to his sickbed. “You are supposed to be sleeping.” Her face scrunched up in an expression of severe disapproval. She didn’t care that he was king. She chided him like she might any misbehaving schoolboy.
He almost smiled. It was clear Tildavera Greenleaf was accustomed to being in charge, and equally accustomed to speaking her mind and having her orders obeyed. But this was one order he had no intention of heeding.
“I’ve slept long enough. Khamsin told me you were the best healer in all of Mystral, and it’s clear she wasn’t exaggerating. You did a fine job bringing me back from the brink of death. I’m sure you can keep me clinging to life a while longer.”
The old woman’s lips pursed. “My patients do not ‘cling to life,’ ” she snapped. “I pride myself on their making a full and miraculous recovery. But carting them all about the countryside with their insides hanging out is not at all conducive to that outcome!”
“Did Khamsin always do as you told her?”
Tildy scowled and switched tactics. “You want to bring Khamsin into this? Fine. So, tell me, Wynter of the Craig, if you sicken and die from that wound, where will that leave her? Alone and undefended against both the Ice King’s army and the invaders from Calberna and Summerlea. And if you think that father of hers will lift a finger to ensure her safety—”
“Maybe we don’t have to move Wynter just yet,” Laci interrupted, as Wynter’s expression darkened. “Wyn, you say the Ice King’s army knows where you are, and they’re coming for you, right?”
Wyn nodded.
“Then staying here buys us time. If you’re what they want, they won’t go a hundred miles out of their way to attack Gildenheim. Ungar sounded the Valkyr’s horn. He’s assembling the army. If we stay here, we buy him time and keep the Ice King’s army away from Gildenheim—and Khamsin.”
Wynter didn’t like Laci’s logic—mostly because he didn’t like the idea of staying here, doing nothing, when enemies were on the move—but he couldn’t refute it. The last thing he wanted to do was draw the Ice King’s army towards Khamsin. “One more day.”
“Three,” Tildy countered.
He glowered at her. “That’s not an option. Two at the most. Then, whether it kills me or not, we move out.”
Once more clad in her own clothes, with the entrance to Wyrn’s secret ice palace secured and Blazing safely sheathed in the scabbard she had retrieved from a hidden compartment in Laci’s room, Kham picked up Thorgyll’s spear and headed for the public altar room to rejoin the White Guard.
The sight of the young boy standing among them brought her up short.
“Krysti! What are you doing here? I thought you were helping out with the little ones.”
Her young companion-in-mischief flashed his fearless, gamin grin. “You didn’t really expect me to stay there when I found out you’d come back. What’s that you’ve got there?” His too-observant gaze latched onto the spear in her hand. “That’s one of Thorgyll’s spears, isn’t it?” He frowned. “I thought only Lady Frey and her priestesses were allowed to touch those.”
