Page 84 of Alliance Bride
“How did it get bad so quickly?” Eadlyn whispered against the dryness in her throat.
She didn’t like the grim look on Inga’s face.
“Some Kalgorans poison their blades.”
The word struck Eadlyn like a blow.Poison. “Is there anything that can be done?”
“We’ll see what the healer says.” But Inga’s eyes gave her away, dark with concern and something far too close to fear.
Minutes crawled by before Braan returned. The woman who stepped in behind him was older than Inga, her face deeply lined and her hair entirely gray. A basket hung from the crook of her arm, the air around her thick with crushed herbs.
Eadlyn stepped aside, though her attention never left Aevar. The rest of the family lingered near the door as the healer worked, but Aevar’s eyes kept drifting closed. His strength seemed to bleed away with every passing moment.
When the healer finished, she handed Inga a small pot and a pouch. “Salve for the wound. Tea to cool the fever. As much as he can drink. I’ll return in the morning.”
Eadlyn stepped forward, desperate for hope. “Will he be all right?”
The healer paused, her attention lingering on Aevar’s pale, sweat-drenched face.
“He is strong,” she said at last. “The gods will decide.”
Eadlyn clenched her hands.
No. Not the gods.
Godwould decide.
Eadlyn slumped in the chair beside Aevar’s bed, her spine stiff with fatigue and her hands chilled despite the fever heat that poured off him in relentless waves. The air was thick with the sour stench of sweat and sickness, like something that didn’t belong in the world of the living.
He hadn’t spoken for hours. They’d managed to get a little of the healer’s tea into him, coaxing his lips to part while he drifted somewhere far beyond reach. But nothing stayed down. Every attempt had ended in gut-wrenching heaving—violent, wracking tremors that left him gasping and the wound bleeding again. The sight of fresh blood had turned Eadlyn’s stomach.
The last time his eyes opened, they’d been glassy and unfocused. Before that, the fevered muttering had turned into restless thrashing. He’d called out names—Thora’s at first,and then hers. When she had taken his hand and whispered she was there, he had quieted.
Now he lay still. Too still.
His skin burned beneath her fingers, the heat of his fever seeping into her like a wildfire she couldn’t smother. Her prayers had long since turned from murmured words to silent, breathless pleading, repeated again and again in her mind.
Please, God. Please. Don’t take him. Not like this. Not now.
Beside her, Inga moved with purpose, dipping a cloth into the basin and pressing it to Aevar’s forehead. They’d taken turns through the night, replacing that cloth and whispering encouragements that felt like lies. It was like trying to douse a blaze with a thimble.
The hours blurred together. By the time the light of morning crept into the room, Eadlyn’s body ached as if she’d sat vigil for many days already. Voices stirred outside the room. A moment later, Runar appeared in the doorway.
Sleeplessness shadowed his eyes as he stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at his son in silence before turning to Inga. “Any improvement?”
She shook her head, yet her voice carried a brittle hope. “No. But he kept down a little of the tea.”
Runar gave a single, curt nod. “Good.”
Inga rose, stretching her back with a groan. “I will see to breakfast.” She rested her weary gaze on Eadlyn. “I’ll bring you something when it is finished.”
Eadlyn glanced up at her. “Thank you, but I don’t think I can eat right now.”
The fear that had taken root inside her the moment Aevar stumbled at the funeral still hadn’t let go. It left no space for hunger.
Inga laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I will return shortly.”
One by one, the daylight hours dragged by. With each, Eadlyn prayed for the fever to break, but it remained high. Aevar grew restless again at times, and at others he shivered uncontrollably. Though various members of the family took turns sitting with him, Eadlyn only left his side to see to her most pressing needs. She dreaded another long night but had no power to stop the day from passing. When Inga left again for the evening meal, Eadlyn still declined food.
