Truth about Leo by Katie MacAlister Page A

I’m allowed to swear in this circumstance, Julia. An army major is no earthly good to me, especially one that thinks I have warts and is under the delusion that he’s dead. What I want is a navy major.”
    â€œI don’t believe they have majors in the navy, dearest. I think they’re called something else.”
    Leo frowned to himself, and before he could think better of it, protested aloud, “There is nothing wrong with the army.”
    â€œI didn’t say there was, you annoying—oh, no. Julia, you didn’t tell me he was bleeding this much.”
    Cold seemed to leech into his body from the ground, starting at his left arm and slowly radiating outward. He shivered.
    â€œI didn’t know since I did not remove his coat. We should move him as quickly as may be. Can you not see that he is feverish? To lie out here in the damp and cold is to court disaster.”
    He wished he had the strength to open his eyes and look again at the harpies, but at that moment, he felt as drained as a newborn colt.
    Still the harpy on the left of him, the wartless one, tugged at him, peeling off his heavy coat and making him aware of the cold and discomfort. He didn’t like her one bit, and turned his head to tell her so. “This certainly wasn’t evident before. Look: it appears he’s taken a saber blade to the arm and I suspect chest, if the blood is any guide. No doubt the attacker thought he had killed him outright. Julia, hand me the blanket. No, the old one. We’ll bind his arm and chest tightly before we move him. That might stop some of the bleeding.”
    â€œWhat a most excellent idea. I knew that you would know how to deal with him once you saw him.”
    â€œDon’t be heaping praise on my head yet. He’s lost a lot of blood, and the fever is upon him. He may well die before I can speak with Colonel Stewart again. Ready? Lift on three.”
    Leo was confused about whom they spoke, but was distracted by the sudden sensation of floating. The root that had been ground into his back drifted away as he lurched along some sort of wind, one that swore and grunted quite a bit, not to mention threatened to drop its burden and let the vultures have at it.
    It must be some other soul the harpies had focused on now that he had drifted off out of their reaches. “Don’t let them take your boots,” he warned. “Your toes will never be warm again.”
    Odd, that, when you thought about it. He’d always been taught that hell was filled with hellfire and brimstone, not cold and numbness.
    The harpies were back, once again arguing. He dragged his attention from where it had wandered, and tried to focus on what they were saying.
    â€œIt is utterly out of the question. You are unmarried, and this gentleman is not your relative. What would your mother say to the idea of him occupying your bed?”
    â€œMy mother would commend me for trying to save the life of one of her countrymen. Now stop arguing, and let’s get him settled so you can fetch the doctor.”
    â€œBut your sheets! We just washed them two days ago!”
    â€œAnd we can wash them again. Julia, my hands are getting tired, and if that happens, I’ll drop the poor man. Will you please stop arguing over silly points of etiquette and put him down?”
    Pain spiked through him suddenly, a dull, cold pain that seemed to nag at him, dragging him downward into a black pit.
    The hellfire came at last, burning at him, ripping away his sinews and flesh with metallic claws. He heard a man screaming, followed by the low rumble of a male voice speaking in Danish that gave way to another, this one female, that seemed to bore into his brain, urging him to be calm so that the doctor could do his work.
    â€œIt’s too late for a doctor,” he argued, moving restlessly, lying in the pit that alternated cold and fire. “I’ve died and gone to hell.”
    â€œI’ve done