Page 107 of Poisoned Kingdom
‘Good. I’ll send someone to bring her as soon as I can,’ I replied. ‘Try to prepare her for the worst.’ I ran a hand through my hair, an old habit in times of stress. I wanted to hold her if the worst came to pass but would not force her affection today. ‘She’ll take it better if it comes from you,’ I said. ‘Sana needs a friend more than she needs a king.’
Irsha sent me a questioning look, but I shrugged and looked to the side as he carried Roksana away. I was probably making a mistake by letting her sleep, but I didn’t want her rushing in unprepared.
Night had fully settled over the town, covering everything in a grey veil, and the mists slipped in, giving the fae lanterns an otherworldly hue.
I walked to the healer’s house, only briefly stopping before the town council. ‘Thank you so much for your hospitality. Rest assured we’ll be leaving in the morning. No ceremony or special treatment is needed. Just feed my men and give us privacy.’
My brief speech was met with consternation, but I didn’t stay to listen to their objections. Soldiers saluted, opening the infirmary door without being prompted. The stench of decay was so strong I stopped. Even being used to the smell of death on the battlefield, I gagged.
A young woman appeared, wearing the uniform of an apprentice healer, stained with blood and other fluids. She bowed, and didn’t straighten, her whole body shaking.
‘Don’t be afraid. Just tell me where the patient is,’ I said, and she gestured to a heavy oak door carved with healing ivy.
I entered, covering my face with a sleeve in a vain attempt to block some of the odour, only to see my men holding down a crazed dwarf. His eyes were glazed with fever, and the healer was standing in the corner, clutching a vial.
‘What’s going on here?’ I demanded.
‘He’s delirious, sire,’ one of my men answered. ‘He shouts and fights as if he were still locked inside the cage we found him in.’
I approached the haughty dwarf, now reduced to a shadow of himself, and looked at his emaciated face.
‘You . . . I know you . . .’ he rasped when his gaze landed on me.
‘Let him go,’ I ordered.
He instantly jumped off the examination table and grabbed a metal instrument, holding it like a weapon.
‘Tova . . .’ I said, approaching him with caution. ‘Sana is here. You want to see her, right?’
‘My drah’sa?’ he asked, lowering the metal tool.
‘Gods, he listened . . .’ The healer rushed towards me, pushing the vial into my hand. ‘Make him drink this, Your Majesty.’
‘Yes, your drah’sa,’ I said, taking another step towards the dwarf and wondering whether I should give him a chance or grab him by the scruff of his neck and force him to drink whatever potion the healer had given me. ‘She came for you. But first, you need to drink this medicine. You don’t want her to worry.’
‘Is she worried?’ he asked, calming as if the mention of Sana alone was enough to bring him back from a mindless rage.
‘She is. Your Sana was looking for you. She told me to find you, but you must drink this before you see her,’ I told him, and, in a moment of inspiration, added, ‘Your condition is dangerous for her.’
That was the right thing to say. As soon as I mentioned a danger to Roksana, he reached out, snatching the vial from my hand and emptying it in one gulp. I stood frozen, realising where the stench came from.
Three fingers of his right hand were mutilated beyond recognition, pus oozing from broken bones and torn muscles, with maggots writhing in the mangled flesh. Tova didn’t seem to care, as if he no longer felt any pain there.
I recalled the words of the army healer when I had argued against amputation in the past:There are wounds no magic can help. All you can do is remove the rotten flesh before it kills the soldier.
I nodded to the healer. ‘Do what you must.’
Tova pushed the vial onto the table and staggered, taking a step back before landing heavily on his rear. ‘Tell her . . . Mlot sent men to kill her, the mages, the kingdom is falling apart, and he blames her . . . Wiosna, the miners . . . all dead; it’s a fucking tomb.’
He fell back, head lolling to the side, and the healer sprang into action.
‘Put him on the table. Quickly!’ he said, and my men rushed to assist him. ‘The sedative won’t work for long. I have one chance to save him.’ The healer’s apprentice stepped in, and together, they began preparing the dwarf.
I stepped aside to allow the medics to work and beckoned to one of my soldiers. ‘Tell me what happened, and as soon as the healer finishes, send someone to bring his friends from our quarters.’ A part of me knew I should call Sana now, but I didn’t want to delay a procedure that could save Tova’s life.
The man briefed me, and I discovered it was pure luck that my men had stumbled upon the wagon returning to Wiosna. Its wheels were stuck in the mud up to the axles, and the dwarven merchants had argued whether to unload the merchandise and dig the wagon out or abandon it.
‘We found him in a pig crate, my king,’ the soldier said. ‘Rotting in his own filth. I don’t think they cared if he were dead or alive when they handed him to Mlot, as long as there was a body.’
