Free Dragonblade Trilogy - 01 - Dragonblade by Kathryn Le Veque

Sir Stephen is great healer. He shall pull her through this.”
    Ailsa’s eyes were big
as she watched Tate methodically bathe her sister’s face. Her gaze trailed to
Tate, studying his strong features, wondering if she should believe him when he
said that Toby was not going to die. As with all children, however, her
attention span was finite and thoughts completely disassociated from her sister
began to roll through her head.
    “Are you married?”
    Tate paused in his
duties to look at her. She was innocent, and it was an innocent question. He’d
long since gotten over the pain the question had once provoked.
    “I was once.”
    “What happened?”
    “She passed away
giving birth to my daughter.”
    “Oh. Did your daughter
die, too?”
    “Aye.”
    Ailsa began to toy
with the bed linens, her sister’s limp hand. “My mother nearly died giving
birth to me, too. I do not think I shall ever have any children.”
    He smiled faintly.
“Why not?”
    “Because it will kill
me.”
    “Not always. As with
anything else, one’s fate is in the hands of God.”
    “Did God kill your
wife and daughter, then?”
    He shook his head
slowly. “He did not, little one.”
    “But why does He allow
bad things to happen?”
    “I do not know. I have
often asked myself that question. I would suppose that everything happens for a
reason, though we do not know what that reason might be at the time.”
    Ailsa chewed her lip
as she thought about it. He made sense and little made sense in her life; a
distant father, an invalid mother, and a sister who was haunted by enormous
responsibility. Tate seemed strong and certain.
    “May I ask another
question?”
    He lifted an eyebrow
at her. “I suspect you will no matter what I say.”
    “Is it wrong to ask
why you are called Dragonblade?”
    His eyes twinkled. “I
suppose not.”
    “Then why?”
    He lay down the arm he
had been swabbing and picked up the other. “Your question will be answered when
you see the hilt of my sword.”
    She tried to picture
what he meant. “Is there a dragon on it?”
    “When you see it, you
shall know.”
    The thoughts were
whirling in Ailsa’s mind. Tate could almost see them. She was a lovely child
and seemed sweet. He didn’t mind talking to her.
    A pair of men ushered
through the door with a large copper tub between them. A female servant, an old
woman with white hair piled atop her head, directed them to set it down. She
had the voice of a crow, screeching at the horse dung that one of the men had
tracked on the floor. Behind her, several house servants followed with great
buckets of water and began emptying them in the tub with great splashes.
    Tate continued to swab
Toby’s arms as Ailsa stood out of the way while the tub was filled. Stephen
returned after a short time, leather satchel in hand, and ordered the fire in
the hearth stoked. When he began to pull out his medicines, Ailsa could not
resist standing next to him and watching curiously. It would seem she was
intensely curious about everything.
    Stephen ignored her
for the most part but inevitably she began asking questions and he was obliged
to respond. She wanted to know about everything and he patiently explained the
willow bark, the crushed poppy, the foxglove extract and so forth. Soon, there
was a fine brew rising in the small iron pot hanging deep in the hearth. With
his ingredients cooking, Stephen went over to his patient.
    “She is still
burning,” Tate murmured so that Ailsa would not hear.
    Stephen ran his hands
across her forehead and opened each eye in turn. “She will not survive much
longer at this temperature,” he said quietly. “We must get her into the water
now.”
    The tub was half-full
with water that was barely warm. Tate put the rag aside and took Toby into his
arms, picking her limp body off the bed. She was hot, sweating and
overwhelmingly delicious. He silently cursed himself for his perverse thoughts
as he took her over to the tub. The servants were filling