burning eyes, the room’s occupants were staring at him with various expressions of disgust.
“Well,” said Poke. “It looks as if our conquering hero is not yet quite mended. We’d best leave him to his rest.”
The room emptied as if he were a leper. He dropped his head against the wall, drained and sick. Aye, he might well be a hero, but he was most certainly a drunkard.
Chapter 5
“S late. Master Slate. Wake up.”
William did so groggily, opening his eyes and wondering for a hazy moment who Slate was. But memories came rampaging back in, bombarding him with information that seemed to rip through his body and trample his mind.
“You gotta eat something, luv.”
Gem was back at his bedside. He’d wondered a dozen times why she bothered. After all, she was a thief, and he was nothing to her. He remembered seeing her in the misty days and nights just past. She had repeatedly brought him water, and though his stomach had rebelled at the idea, he’d managed to keep it down. Now she sat with a bowl on her lap. Steam curled dreamily into the air, and the smell of cooked onions filled the room. Surprisingly, his stomach didn’t churn at the scent.
“I brought you some broth.”
What he wanted was a drink, but the memory alone was enough to make his gut twist. His hands trembled as he tried to sit up.
“’Ere then,” Gem said, and setting the bowl hastily aside, hurried to assist him. The process was almost bearable.
“There you go,” she said, pulling the blankets up to his waist. “Feeling better?”
If better was being flailed from the inside out, then yes, he was feeling quite grand.
“You got some color in your cheeks today.”
He drew a careful breath and dared turn his head to look at her. “What color is that?”
She stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “Well, they ain’t gray no more.”
“Ahhh.” He carefully rested his head against the wall behind him. “Is that good?”
She was silent so long that he finally turned back toward her, though the effort cost him dear. Her baby’s mouth was pursed, her eyes wide and strangely limpid.
“I thought we was going to lose you there for a while.”
Were there tears in her eyes? His mind bobbled at the thought, for he seemed strangely certain suddenly that in the entirety of his life, no one had ever cried for him. But perhaps that was the way of gladiators and warriors.
“But things is lookin’ up now,” she added. He tried to think of something to say, but no witticisms came to his battered mind. “Come along now, you gotta eat.”
What about his mother? Surely there had been one. And surely she had cared.
“Luv,” Gem said.
He glanced at her. “I’m not sure I can.”
“You gotta,” she said, and there was such feeling in her tone, such intensity that he couldn’t help but ask why.
She drew a deep breath. “Cuz otherwise you’ll die.” There had been several hours during which he’d been certain death was undesirable. Now, with his hands shaking and his body screaming, he wasn’t quite sure.
“And…” His mind was attempting to solve this puzzle, to work out the mystery of this place. These people. “You’d care?”
“Course I’d care.”
“Why?”
She stared at him an instant, then lowered her gaze to the bowl she’d retrieved from the floor. “I ummm…” She paused, glanced up, then flickered her gaze down again. “Vic…” She cleared her throat. “Lord Rambert weren’t no friend of mine.”
He wanted to ask why, but it was none of his concern, and, if the truth be told, he could see the answer in her eyes. In fact, the feelings there were so raw and intense that he had to look away.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Sorry?” She looked up quickly, blinking. “What for?”
“That you…” He paused, wanting to tell her that this shouldn’t be her life. That she should be elsewhere, somewhere safe and pampered and loved. But what did he know of love? Or any of those other things?
“Well,” said Poke. “It looks as if our conquering hero is not yet quite mended. We’d best leave him to his rest.”
The room emptied as if he were a leper. He dropped his head against the wall, drained and sick. Aye, he might well be a hero, but he was most certainly a drunkard.
Chapter 5
“S late. Master Slate. Wake up.”
William did so groggily, opening his eyes and wondering for a hazy moment who Slate was. But memories came rampaging back in, bombarding him with information that seemed to rip through his body and trample his mind.
“You gotta eat something, luv.”
Gem was back at his bedside. He’d wondered a dozen times why she bothered. After all, she was a thief, and he was nothing to her. He remembered seeing her in the misty days and nights just past. She had repeatedly brought him water, and though his stomach had rebelled at the idea, he’d managed to keep it down. Now she sat with a bowl on her lap. Steam curled dreamily into the air, and the smell of cooked onions filled the room. Surprisingly, his stomach didn’t churn at the scent.
“I brought you some broth.”
What he wanted was a drink, but the memory alone was enough to make his gut twist. His hands trembled as he tried to sit up.
“’Ere then,” Gem said, and setting the bowl hastily aside, hurried to assist him. The process was almost bearable.
“There you go,” she said, pulling the blankets up to his waist. “Feeling better?”
If better was being flailed from the inside out, then yes, he was feeling quite grand.
“You got some color in your cheeks today.”
He drew a careful breath and dared turn his head to look at her. “What color is that?”
She stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “Well, they ain’t gray no more.”
“Ahhh.” He carefully rested his head against the wall behind him. “Is that good?”
She was silent so long that he finally turned back toward her, though the effort cost him dear. Her baby’s mouth was pursed, her eyes wide and strangely limpid.
“I thought we was going to lose you there for a while.”
Were there tears in her eyes? His mind bobbled at the thought, for he seemed strangely certain suddenly that in the entirety of his life, no one had ever cried for him. But perhaps that was the way of gladiators and warriors.
“But things is lookin’ up now,” she added. He tried to think of something to say, but no witticisms came to his battered mind. “Come along now, you gotta eat.”
What about his mother? Surely there had been one. And surely she had cared.
“Luv,” Gem said.
He glanced at her. “I’m not sure I can.”
“You gotta,” she said, and there was such feeling in her tone, such intensity that he couldn’t help but ask why.
She drew a deep breath. “Cuz otherwise you’ll die.” There had been several hours during which he’d been certain death was undesirable. Now, with his hands shaking and his body screaming, he wasn’t quite sure.
“And…” His mind was attempting to solve this puzzle, to work out the mystery of this place. These people. “You’d care?”
“Course I’d care.”
“Why?”
She stared at him an instant, then lowered her gaze to the bowl she’d retrieved from the floor. “I ummm…” She paused, glanced up, then flickered her gaze down again. “Vic…” She cleared her throat. “Lord Rambert weren’t no friend of mine.”
He wanted to ask why, but it was none of his concern, and, if the truth be told, he could see the answer in her eyes. In fact, the feelings there were so raw and intense that he had to look away.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Sorry?” She looked up quickly, blinking. “What for?”
“That you…” He paused, wanting to tell her that this shouldn’t be her life. That she should be elsewhere, somewhere safe and pampered and loved. But what did he know of love? Or any of those other things?
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