Page 102 of The Guardian's Bride
“What are you doing there?” the king demanded.
“I am asking the stone and the water to heal you.”
“Either you are mad, a witch, or both.”
“Your Grace,” Aedan said. “I have seen the lady do this before. I can attest that it has healing benefit. She saved my life with it.”
“Saved your life, did she? Malise’s too. Huh!” Edward motioned to Henry and Patrick. “Untie the guardian’s wrists lest we be schooled by the Pope.”
Rowena lifted the stone out of the goblet by its broken chain, glad to have it in her hand again. She gave Edward the goblet, hoping he would not ask for the stone back.
The king drank. Sitting back in the chair, he closed his eyes. Pale-faced, cheeks drawn, his eyes shadowed gray, he did not move. She looked up as Aedan stepped beside her, his hands free. He set an arm around her shoulder and she stood close, waiting.
“Sire?” she finally asked.
Edward’s eyes popped open, sharp blue. “The illness in the stomach feels—calmer. Something about it. I want you to send kegs of that water to me.”
“We could do that.” She glanced at Aedan, who lifted a skeptical brow.
“Brother Hugo, come here,” Edward barked. “I want you to learn all you can from Lady Rowena about stones and healing water. There something to this. I feel—refreshed. We shall see if this lasts.”
“Sire, you have had a trying day,” Hugo said. “This magical healing is nonsense, perhaps even dangerous heresy. You should avoid it. I will give you a dose of the treatment you have been taking for months. It is more reliable.”
Rowena stepped forward. “Brother? What is that, may I ask.”
“Hugo has something that relieves aches and brings on sleep,” Edward said.
“A sleeping potion?” she asked sharply. “The same that you gave me?”
“I prepare a tincture that benefits the king’s health.” Hugo stared hard at her.
Then she knew. Hugo had been giving Edward the blend of the Great Rest, a powerful mixture of poppies, cloves, valerian, and more. “Sire, that tincture must be meted out carefully and never used often. It is powerful enough to produce weakness and even death. I fear,” she said, glancing at the king, “I fear Brother Hugo has not just been dosing aches and pains. He has been poisoning you.”
“Poison,” Edward said. “What is this, Hugo?”
“He may not realize it, depending on his training,” Rowena said.
“This was prepared and recommended by John Gadsden, who learned of it in Constantinople when he was on Crusade,” Hugo defended.
“You make it yourself? Is the king ever slow to wake, or very weak?” she asked.
“Sometimes, but he is very ill, as you know.”
“It helps sleep,” Edward said. “We will have more tonight. But we may not need it. The crystal and the water have done something—remarkable.”
“Sire, if Lady Rowena was blamed for poisoning you, she was wrongly accused,” Aedan said. “Whatever happened was done by someone else’s hand.” He looked at Brother Hugo. “Easy enoughto blame a lady who was there to help. You wanted to be sure you did not catch trouble for it yourself when you saw the king weakening.”
“I have reduced the dose since,” Hugo said. His cheeks were flaming red.
“Hugo, we will discuss this later,” Edward said. “We will have justices consider it. If that sleeping potion has caused illness, there will be harsh consequences. But you two,” he said to Aedan and Rowena. “You are both free to go.”
“Sire?” Rowena leaned into Aedan, the stone still clutched in her hand.
“Take the stone. Hugo will just get rid of it if you leave it here. Send Queen Margaret’s healing water, but make sure the stone is dipped in the water before you send it on. Do whatever you must do and get it done quickly. It—is needed.”
“Sire,” she breathed out, filled with relief. Aedan dropped his arm away and she reached for his hand, wanting that constant. He was her rock, her protector, the man she loved with the deepest love and compassion she had ever known, the man she would protect, however she could, in turn.
“Sire, what of the captive Scotswomen? If you do not keep the stone, what will become of them?” she asked.
