Truth about Leo by Katie MacAlister Page B

what I can, but I’m afraid it’s too late. He won’t last the night through.”
    â€œBut…he was talking! And moving his limbs. Are you sure there is nothing we can do for him? Perhaps a draught or some other physic? My sainted mother used to say that if the fever was attended to—”
    â€œI have been physician to His Royal Highness for more years than your mother was alive. I know the look of death when I see it, and I say this man will not last until morning. If, by some miracle of God, he does survive the night, then I will bleed him.”
    â€œOver my dead body you will,” he heard the first harpy say in a firm voice. “My mother always said that bleeding made people weaker, not stronger.”
    He wanted to agree with her, but it was too much effort to speak, so he simply nodded his head.
    â€œYour mother was not a physician,” the man answered. Footsteps and the sound of a door slamming told of his leaving.
    Good , thought Leo. He sounded singularly unhelpful.
    â€œOh, Princess, what will we do now?” one of the harpies asked, wringing her hands as she stood at the foot of his bed.
    â€œGo fetch me what remains of my mother’s herbs. I’m going to make him a fever draught.”
    â€œBut you heard what the doctor said! He won’t last the night.”
    â€œPerhaps not, but it won’t be for the lack of me trying. Go, Julia, and get some water boiling.”
    The older harpy moved slowly toward the door, casting a worried look back at him. “If he’s not going to live long…Princess, you must marry him.”
    The pretty harpy turned to her, astonishment clearly writ on her face. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”
    â€œQuite the contrary. If you marry him now, and he…” She made a vague gesture. “Then you will be his widow, and the colonel will have to send you to England.”
    â€œI’m not so desperate to find a husband that I need to marry a man on his deathbed.”
    â€œAren’t you?”
    The wartless harpy looked as obstinate as a mule. For some reason, that amused Leo. He wondered vaguely who the poor man was who they wanted to marry.
    â€œAll right, I might be that desperate, but really, Julia. He’s desperately ill.”
    â€œAll the more reason to do it now.”
    â€œBut…it seems so wrong to just marry him while he’s not cognizant.”
    â€œIt won’t matter at all to him if he goes to meet his maker wed, while it will mean everything to you and me.”
    He closed his eyes, waiting to hear the fate of the poor, unmarried man. At last the first harpy said, “I suppose it wouldn’t matter much. Go attend to the water and herbs while I fetch the last of the damson wine.”
    Leo drifted for a little bit, coming back to awareness at a slight noise.
    â€œIs it ready?” one of the harpies was asking.
    â€œI hope so. His fever is increasing, so we have to get something in him. I just hope this draught helps.”
    â€œI don’t want to take a draught,” Leo said pettishly, trying with every ounce of strength to open his eyes. He managed to get one cracked to see the pretty harpy sniffing at a bottle of dark red liquid. “You can’t cure death, madam.”
    The harpy set the bottle down on a table, giving him a curious look.
    â€œWhat have you done with my root?” he asked suspiciously. “How dare you take it away from me. It was you who spirited me here, wasn’t it? Don’t deny it, I can see by the look on your wartless face that it was. First you strip the flesh from my bones, then you take away the spleen root, and now you threaten to dose me with some foul concoction. I won’t have it. Return me to the proper hell, the one that wasn’t soft and warm and comfortable.”
    He panted with the effort to speak, so exhausted he couldn’t hold open his eye any longer. He wanted to gesture to the