Page 59 of The Robber Knight
“That's because you have a fever,” she said,bending forward and feeling his forehead. “Somehow your wounds gotinfected. I have no idea how.” She peered at him suspiciously, hereyes still wet. “You did follow my instructions, didn't you?”
“To the letter,” he assured her.
“Really?”
“Oh yes.”
“Then can you tell me what this is?” Shedangled a half-eaten black pudding in front of his nose.
He managed a ghost of his usual insolentgrin. “There may have been a few little deviations.”
“You stupid fool!” She smacked his arm, andher eyes started tearing up again. “Those things I told you weren'tsimply meant for my amusement! They were meant to help you getbetter!”
Reuben's mouth opened slightly, but for once,he didn't know how to respond. No cheeky remark, no sarcastic wordssprang to his lips.
“Which of the kitchen maids did you coerceinto bringing you this? What did you promise in return?”
That brought the grin back to Reuben's face.“Why? Jealous of what I might have promised the fair maiden?”
Her cheeks blossomed red, which made Reuben'sgrin only widen.
“I... you... Answer my question!”
“Not until you answer mine.”
Angrily, she threw the black pudding behindher. It hit the stone wall with a resounding smack. “You'reimpossible!”
For a few moments she just sat there besidehis bed in angry silence.
Finally, he decided it was time to saysomething, preferably something that didn't get her temper upagain. “How bad am I?” he asked, quietly.
“I don't know! If you'd done what I said,you'd probably be on your feet in a couple of days. But now—youfell down the stairs and have bruises on every inch of yourbody.”
“You checked?” he couldn't help asking,winking at her.
Her cheeks burned an even deeper red thanbefore, but she continued, determined. “It's a miracle you didn'tbreak your neck! For that matter, with your wounds, it was amiracle that you even got as far as the stairs. I don't know whatin the world possessed you to try!” She glared at him, as if anysilly plan by which he could put himself in harm's way was apersonal affront to her. It almost made him chuckle. “But thebruises and the wounds aren't what bother me. It's the fever andthe infection. Reuben... I... I don't know whether you will survivethis.”
She buried her head in her hands again. Hetried to lift his hand as before to comfort her, and this time hemanaged, pulling one of her small hands away and holding it in his.It felt natural, somehow, holding her hand—even if his own hand wasunnaturally hot at the moment. Her soft, cool little hand feltincredibly soothing.
“I'm sorry,” he said softly, and realizedwith some astonishment that he actually meant it.
“For what?” she half sobbed, half snapped,gripping his hand with a force he wouldn't have thought her capableof. “I'm the one who let you wander off with a fever. I should bepublicly disgraced! I've shamed my teacher and don't deserve tocall myself a healer.”
“Don't talk like that.” Reuben's thumb beganto stroke the back of her hand instinctively, trying to calm her.“None of this is your fault. It's mine, and I'm sorry.”
“What for?” she repeated.
“For yelling at you. For behaving the way Idid, and... for wanting to leave at all.”
“Why shouldn't you want to leave?” There wasa despair in her voice that cut Reuben to the heart. “We're alldoomed here.”
A flash of anger shot through him at thethought of the men who had caused her anguish. If he wasn't lyinghere like an accursed invalid, he would...
“Well,” he said in a teasing tone, trying tolighten the mood and chase away his own thoughts, “I still haven'tgot my compensation. It seems I will have to stay and make sure youwin this little war of yours so that I get what I want.”
His attempt at levity worked. A small,tearful giggle escaped Ayla.
“It's not like I could go anywhere, in anycase, with this fever,” he added, his voice sounding a bit toohappy for his own liking.
