Free Dragonblade Trilogy - 01 - Dragonblade by Kathryn Le Veque Page B

contrite, it did not deter her enthusiasm.
She whispered loudly this time. “Sing the fairy song!”
    Tate gave her a
reproving look. The singing excited Ailsa and thankfully seemed to soothe Toby.
He launched into the old folk ballad, normally a lively dance. He wasn’t surprised
when Ailsa dropped her sister’s hand and began to leap around the floor.
    Dilly, dilly, lady
fairy, how shall you fly? Long to the day as slumber grows nigh;
    On gossamer wings, you
touch the stars.
    On the wings of
angels, you steal our hearts.
    Come touch my heart, O
fairy dove,
    And take me from the
world above.
    Ailsa stopped her jig
and clapped happily. The knights quieted her in unison again. “Hush !”
    Ailsa’s mouth formed
an “O” and she put her hand to her lips in a silence gesture. She looked at Toby,
fearful that she had disturbed her, but Toby was sleeping as peacefully as she
could be given the circumstances. Tate began to sing another song, a calming
lullaby, as Stephen went to take his brew off of the fire. He poured a good
amount in a pewter cup and came back over to the tub.
    “It should cool so she
does not scald herself trying to drink it,” he said quietly. “But your singing
has accomplished wonders; she is calm now.”
    “Calm, aye, but she is
still as hot as the sun,” Tate said. “I can feel it through my clothes.”
    The last bucket of
water went in to the tub. It was nearly to the brim with tepid water that would
help stabilize Toby’s temperature. But it also made her shift transparent,
something Tate could not see and Stephen tried not to notice. When Toby started
to shiver and her nipples hardened, Tate’s attention was drawn to the
tantalizing peaks shrouded in wet linen. So was Ailsa’s; noticing her sister’s
state, she flew into a frenzy and ripped the coverlet off the bed. She tried to
tuck it in around her sister, causing water to splash all over the floor.
    The knights would have
scolded her had they not realized what she was doing. Stephen went so far as to
help her. The drink was cooled sufficiently at that point and the former
Hospitaller knight held Toby’s head up with one hand, administering the cup
with the other. 
    The first spill of the
warm brew into her mouth was a jolt. Toby sputtered and coughed, but Stephen
managed to get an adequate amount of the foul-smelling liquid into her stomach.
When he finally set the cup aside, Tate reached under the wet linens and lifted
Toby’s wounded wrist above the water.
    “Now,” his voice was a
growl. “Tend this. I believe this is the source of her fever.”
    Stephen inspected the
wounds closely. “What manner of demon did this?”
    Tate was reluctant to
say with Ailsa present. He simply shook his head and Stephen saw that he either
did not know or would not answer. He drew some powder from his satchel and
mixed it with water, making a paste. Applying the paste to the wounds, he
wrapped it with a strip of dry cloth.
    “This should draw the
poison out,” he said. “Keep it out of the water as best you can.”
    Tate nodded silently.
Toby was quivering against him in reaction to her prolonged submersion in the
water, but she didn’t seem as hot as she had been. He put a hand on her
forehead again, feeling the warmth but confirming that his suspicions were
correct; her fever was lessened. Feeling somewhat reassured that she would
survive, he settled back in the tub, his big hand holding her head against his
shoulder and the other arm wrapped around her waist, and began to sing again.
It was soft and gentle, like a father singing to a sick child. Somewhere in the
singing, he tightened his grip, certain he could out-wrestle Death if it came
to claim her. The last time he had held a dying woman in his arms, Death had
won. Now it was the principle of the matter. Death would not best him again.
    Eventually, they moved
Toby out of the tub and onto the bed. She was calm and the fever seemed to be
abating. There was nothing left to do but