Authors: Cynthia Luhrs
“I can’t sleep. If I do, I’m afraid…afraid he will die and I won’t know. We cannot leave him alone, not even to sleep. Not after he was in that horrid place.”
Brom nodded. “As he is senseless, it will be appropriate for you to sleep in his chamber.”
Jennifer croaked out a laugh. “You’re worried about propriety and I’m worried about him dying.”
Brom’s mouth twitched. “Aye. If anything could tempt Edward to wake, it would be the thought of his lady sleeping in his chamber. You should sleep on the floor.”
“I’m not going to sleep on the floor. I’m going to crawl in bed and sleep next to him.” Jennifer smiled.
The look on Brom’s face almost made her happy.
“You cannot.”
“I don’t think he’s going to ravish me today.” And then the reality of what she was facing came crashing down around her like waves breaking on the rocks. “I love him and I never told him.”
“We all have events in our life that affect us, mold us into the people we are. Do not fault yourself. Edward loves you. He told me. If anyone could tempt death to leave and go back to the underworld, I think ’tis you.”
Brom took her hand and placed it in Edward’s. He looked at Edward. “If I were God looking down from above and saw the love you have for him, surely I would be merciful and bring him back to you, lady.”
When he met her gaze, tears streamed down the big man’s face. Jennifer felt wetness on her own cheeks, tasted salt on her lips.
“I hope you are right.”
He sniffed and gathered himself. “There is a man on guard. I have sent Alistair to sleep. Call out if you need anything.”
As the day passed, supper came and went, and the household quieted, settling down for the night. How could they sleep when Edward was…like this? Because death was a normal part of their lives. Well, she didn’t want it to be a part of her life. Before her hand touched his forehead, she could feel the heat radiating off him. His fever was spiking. First he sweated, then he shivered as she pulled blankets on and off him, speaking softly to him. Begging him to come back to her. To stay.
She was long past tired, and yet she could not sleep. Jennifer climbed into the bed, careful not to jostle him. He moaned and called out but did not wake, caught firmly in the grip of the fever.
She pressed her body close to him, willing her life force into him.
“From the moment I got here, you have put others before yourself. Always looking out for your people. You are brave and strong and I have thought only of myself. Being here with you has brought out the best in me. I’m only sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you how much I love you.”
Jennifer wiped her eyes, sniffling into her sleeve.
“Please don’t leave me, Edward. I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here with you. You’re not stuffy—you’re responsible and steady, someone I can rely on. Don’t go…I need you.”
At some point her body must have shut down, sleep claiming her, for when she woke the servants had already been in the chamber, built up the fire, and brought more cold water and food and drink for her.
Brom entered as a girl was brushing Jennifer’s hair, putting it up in a ponytail. They’d accepted her odd hairstyle without a word.
“How is he?”
Tears welled up, but she refused to let them fall. She met his gaze head-on.
“He lives, but I don’t know how much longer he will with such a high fever. Is there anything else we can try?”
One of the servants cleared her throat. “In the village where I grew up there was a man with such a fever as my lord.” The girl chewed her lip as she thought. “I don’t know what they did, but whatever it was, the man lived. I will ask my mam.”
Jennifer felt like the sun came out of the clouds and shone down on her. “Would you? Would you do it now?”
The girl looked to Brom, who nodded. She hurried out of the chamber.
“Do not give yourself false hope, Jennifer. We must be ready.”
“I didn’t come all this way just so he could die.”
Jennifer had not set foot out of Edward’s chamber since they found him, though she did open the shutters for the fresh air. No matter how she tried to explain that fresh air was good for someone who was sick, they wouldn’t hear it. The servants were horrified, and finally she gave up, bellowing at them to cease. No wonder Edward stomped about all the time.
Time stretched for endless hours, and other times it moved fast, like a raft bumping down whitewater rapids. She’d lost track of what day it was. When she woke, she thought it might be afternoon. Edward was moaning, thrashing back and forth, and she was afraid he was going to hurt himself. Jennifer ran to the door and flung it open.
“He’s going to rip open his stitches.”
The knight shouted down the corridor, and three of Edward’s men came to hold him down. One of them got a black eye and another a broken nose before he stopped lashing out. They had tried to keep her away from him, but he was still muttering and moaning, unconscious. Jennifer pushed under one of the men’s arms, leaned in, and spoke softly to Edward.
“My love. Listen to the sound of my voice. I am here. I vow I will not let death take you. But you must calm, or you will hurt yourself. And you’ve hurt your men.”
Slowly he stopped fighting, and the muttering faded away. Two of his wounds were bleeding again.
“Send for the healer. She needs to restitch his wounds.”
As the men left, she heard them talking. The one with long brown hair said, “I’d come back from the very gates of hell if I saw such an angel taking care of me.”
The other nodded. “Were I death, I too would pass by and let him live. Let us pray death is a tender bastard.”
While she waited for the healer, she blotted his wounds and wiped his brow, kissing the scars covering his body, sending hope into each one.
“Please give him back to me. Even if he doesn’t love me, just let him live.” Jennifer looked out the window at the sunset.
The door opened and the healer bustled in clicking her tongue. Fast and efficient, she restitched his wounds, forcing more of the awful brew down his throat.
“He is stubborn to have lasted so long. Prepare yourself, child—he is growing weaker and will not last much longer.”
“I’m stubborn too, and if I can hold his spirit here by the force of my will then that is what I will do.”
“We will see, lady. We will see.” The healer looked as if she were about to say something else, but she patted Jennifer on the cheek and left.
Brom entered the chamber early in the morning. “We will take him to the lake. The girl says cold water is what is needed.”
“The lake? What about the icehouse?”
“Nay, the water must flow over his body.” The healer had come back with the girl.
"’Tis a last resort. The cold water will either kill him or it will break the fever. ’Tis the only thing left to do.”
Jennifer looked down at Edward. His cheeks were sunken and there was a grayish tint to his skin. As much as she protested, even she knew it wouldn’t be long. Edward would die if his fever didn’t break. She took a deep breath.
“Then we must try.”
Four men carried Edward out of the chamber, bringing back memories of when they’d carried his battered body into the room. Jennifer stumbled, and would have fallen had Alistair not caught her.
“Thank you.”
The men took him through the hall. Jennifer caught up to Brom and the healer. “Where I grew up, my mother said salt water was always good for cuts. Can we put him in the sea?”
The healer shook her head. “This time of year ’tis not cold enough. There is a stream nearby. The water flows from deep within the mountain and ’tis always freezing. That is where we will take him.”
Filled with despair that this might be the last time Edward drew breath, Jennifer pulled one of the boys aside. “Take two lads with you. Go to the sea and fill your buckets with seawater. I want to wash our lord’s wounds with it to help him heal.”
Jennifer tapped Brom on the arm. “Could you send one of the men to go with them? I want to put salt water on his wounds.”
The captain flinched. “I have been wounded and thrown into the sea during a brawl. It will pain him greatly.”
“I’m afraid at this point there’s nothing left to lose. I would rather cause him pain than always wonder if it might have helped him.”
He didn’t argue, instead calling for one of the men to go with the boys.
The wagon brought them close to the stream, and the men carried him the rest of the way. Jennifer knelt down, sticking her hand in the water, gasping at the cold that sliced through her. When she looked up it was to see the inhabitants from the castle. They were lining up along the bank on both sides, hands clasped and heads bowed.
Tears ran down her face as she saw the emotion on everyone’s faces. At least today the weather matched her mood. The skies were gray and dull and it was raining.
"’Tis an ancient cure. Many do not survive the cold water. But if this does not kill him, it will break the fever.” The healer nodded and the men gently placed Edward in the water, submerging him until only his face was above the surface. He immediately thrashed and cried out.
She stepped forward to go to him, knowing of his fear. Brom placed a hand on her arm and spoke softly into her ear.
“You must let him be. All of his people are watching, and he would not wish to appear weak before them.”
As much as it pained her, she nodded, her heart breaking at the pain he was feeling. Edward swore, and from the looks on Brom’s and the other soldier’s faces, she was grateful he was yelling in Norman French so the rest of his people would not understand most of his words. Several of the soldiers crossed themselves. Jennifer didn’t want whatever he was yelling translated.
Finally, when she thought she couldn’t stand another minute, they removed Edward from the cold water and wrapped him tightly in wool. The journey back seemed longer.
Back inside the chamber, the healer insisted Jennifer take a bath to warm her. Her dress was heavy from the rain. For a moment she felt awful—she’d ruined two dresses in the space of a week. Somehow, after her bath, she choked down supper. Eyes heavy, she climbed into bed, clad only in her chemise, and pressed her body against him, offering him her warmth. Rain lashed the castle, lulling her to sleep.
The warmth on her face made Jennifer feel like she was sitting outside under the summer sun. Blinking, she sat up. The sun streamed in through the window. It took a minute to realize what was wrong. The bed was empty.
Frantic, she looked around, ready to scream when she saw Edward slumped in a chair, looking pale and tired, watching her.
“Edward. You’re alive.”