Free The Golden Cage by J.D. Oswald Page B

force a fracture back to its proper shape. A limb can be splinted with wood and cloth to hold it in position while it heals, but where many small bones are broken, or where immobilization might lead to seizing of a joint, then the subtle arts may be used to speed the healing process.
    Care should ever be your watchword when tapping the Llinellau, but even more so when using the power of the Grym to heal. Be sure when you work not to draw strength from your patient, nor yourself. That way lies exhaustion, illness and death.
    Morgwm the Green,
The Herbwoman’s Guide to Healing
    ‘Your Majesty, please, get behind me. Stay with the guards.’ Melyn cursed his age as he tried to keep up with Beulah. She ran with most unregal haste, despite her dress, sending servants and minor nobles alike flying as she sped down the corridor. The sensible ones stayed on the floor or ducked into alcoves and doorways to avoid the party heading for the royal chambers.
    He managed to catch up with her as she stopped to
wrench open an ornately decorated pair of double doors. Melyn grasped her arm and held her back.
    ‘Remember what I taught you, Beulah. Don’t go rushing in unprepared.’
    He already had his blade of light at the ready, its steady fire a reassuring pressure in his mind. When he was sure that the queen was not going to go running off again, he released her arm and opened the door himself. A grisly scene awaited him on the other side.
    It was a reception chamber in one of the guest suites, well appointed for the most noble of visiting dignitaries. Tall windows hung with elegant curtains looked out on to a lawned courtyard. Sumptuous armchairs were arranged around an open fireplace, currently unlit. Two ornate desks sat at the far end of the room, one split in two as if by some crazed axe-wielding giant. Chairs lay on their backs, and two very dead bodies sprawled on the floor.
    It looked like something had ripped them apart. Their blood splattered the walls, innards oozing out into the richly patterned rug. A heavy stench of burned iron and shit hung in the air.
    ‘By the Shepherd! Clun!’ Melyn was astonished to hear the wail in Beulah’s voice.
    ‘My … my lady.’ Movement behind the desk dragged Melyn’s gaze away from the eviscerated corpses on the floor. He looked up and saw a man-shaped blood spatter shift, a clear shadow appearing on the wall as Clun stepped forward. He was covered from head to toe in gore, his ducal robes ruined.
    ‘By
the Shepherd, boy, what happened here?’ Melyn heard Beulah’s sudden intake of breath at his words and remembered that he was no longer addressing a novitiate but the Duke of Abervenn. ‘Your Grace,’ he corrected himself. ‘Are you all right?’
    ‘I think so … sir.’ Clun seemed to be unsure of the correct way to address him. Given what he must have been through, Melyn was prepared to forgive him, just this once.
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘I … They were here to see me about trade agreements.’ Clun motioned with his hand towards the broken desk. Papers lay all around it, some stuck to the green leather top with blood. ‘Then one of them said something about Abervenn never again being a plaything of the House of Balwen. He conjured a blade of light, used it on the desk. He was trying to get at me.’
    Beulah ran across the room, ruining her dress in the process, and began wiping blood from Clun’s face with a white handkerchief. Melyn was so astonished by the sight that it took him a few moments to gather his thoughts. What had happened to the ruthless queen he had left behind?
    Two sets of double doors led from the reception room; one stood open. Silently Melyn crossed over to the doors, approaching so that he could see what lay beyond. It was a large bedchamber dominated by a huge four-poster. For a moment Melyn thought that was all there was in the room, but something pulled at his attention, a feeling of incongruity. He stared hard, trying to work out what it
was, and