Page 98 of Pippa of Lauramore
Archer gives me a sharp look—one that reminds me my future is resting on this tournament. “I need him to help me with the armor. You aren’t strong enough, and I can’t trust anyone else.”
“But—”
“Go.”
I finally nod. “Hold on, Galinor. I’ll be back with Yuven.”
His only response is a labored breath.
CHAPTER 25
“Poison,” Yuven says as he tosses open cabinets. He grabs bottles and tins, bumping tinctures out of order, not even bothering to close doors. “I need to see him as soon as possible.”
I’m breathing hard from the run to the castle and then even harder from the near heart failure I had when I couldn’t find Yuven in his quarters or the herb garden. I never expected him to be anywhere else. I finally found him speaking with Lissy, his maid, in the flower garden by the falls. They looked cozy watching the rain from under a canopy, and Yuven wasn’t impressed when I first interrupted. Once I explained, he started muttering herb names I’ve never heard of and walking as fast as I’ve ever seen his gangly legs carry him.
“We need to get Clarion,” he says.
“There is no time.” I shake my head, impatient. I’m already dancing to the door, hovering back and forth, waiting for him to collect his things so we can go.
He finally looks up after having stuffed the last tin inhis leather pouch. “Pippa, this could be fatal. I won’t know what we’re dealing with until I look at Galinor. We need Clarion.”
“First, let me take you to Galinor’s tent, and then I will go for Clarion.”
How I am going to pull him away from the tournament without causing a scene, I’m not sure. Right now, Clarion has half a dozen patients with minor wounds from the joust.
He nods and follows me out the kitchen doors. We cut through the gardens, and luckily everyone is watching the joust, so we don’t have to explain our rush. It seems like it takes forever to reach the tents, but we finally make it.
Bran is still on guard, and he looks relieved to see Yuven behind me.
“He’s unconscious,” he says, his voice low as he steps away so we can enter. I stop abruptly when I see the amount of bloody rags they’ve already gone through. Yuven bumps into me and then shoves me out of the way.
As Bran warned, Galinor is lifeless, now stretched out on a cot. Marigold leans over him, pressing a bandage to the wound to slow the flow of blood. She looks up when we come in, and her eyes are red and puffy. Percival pulls Galinor’s tunic over Archer, who already wears the prince’s armor. Archer looks grim.
Yuven rushes to Galinor’s side, and Marigold scrambles back. I look away as he pulls the bandage aside, but it’s not soon enough. The wound has spread. It’s now a great gaping lesion of red, and the blue bruise has stretched from his side to his back and his abdomen.
“Pippa, get Clarion now.”
“I already sent Alexander for him,” Percival says, glancing my way. “We were getting worried when it took you so long.”
My throat is closing, and I choke a little. “I hurried…”
Percival leaves Archer’s side and takes me by the shoulders. “We know, but we’re running out of time. His pulse is weak.”
“What is it?” I ask, aghast. “What did Lionel put on the dagger?”
Bran pokes his head through the tent. “Archer, they are ready for Galinor.”
All our eyes turn to Archer. He nods once and turns to Percival. “Thank you.”
“Don’t let Lionel win.” Percival slaps him on the shoulder once, his face grim.
Archer’s eyes meet mine as he leaves, and as he passes, I press my embroidered handkerchief into his hand. He raises an eyebrow, gives me a shadow of a smile, and then leaves.
The tent flaps blow in the wind, and I’m torn between rushing after him to see how he does and staying with Galinor. I resist the urge to follow—I know where I’m needed. I find a seat next to Galinor.
Yuven glances at me. He’s opened a bottle of a wretched smelling gray liquid, and I work hard not to gag. He hands me a soaked rag. “Hold this to the wound.”
I take it, my nose wrinkling. “What was he poisoned with?”
