“Let us help you to the privy before the drug takes effect,” Dominic said, and Warna grimaced, but nodded weakly. Dominic pulled Verice away as she was aided out of bed.
“Well?” Verice asked softly.
“She hasn’t been able to keep anything down, even water.” Dominic said. “I’ve never seen this violent a reaction to gwenwyth before, but then I’ve never known any human to drink a full cup of the stuff. We’re hoping that a night’s rest will settle her stomach. We’ll try a bit of broth in the morning, and see what happens. We’ll stay with her tonight.”
The implication being that Verice was in the way. Verice sighed as Warna walked slowly back to the bed, and was tucked under the covers.
“I’ll have warming stones brought—” Dominic started.
“Yes, do that. But for now…” Verice stepped forward. Warna gave him a puzzled glance as he put his hands on the bed. “Allow me,” he said softly, then cast a warming spell on the bed.
Warna sighed as the heat enveloped her, some of the lines in her face easing.
“That feels lovely,” she whispered.
Verice sat on the side of the bed. “Would that my gifts included healing,” he said ruefully. He glanced over his should to see that Dominic and the others were giving them a bit of privacy.
“So sorry,” Warna said softly. “Never thought it through.” She fumbled her hand out from under the blanket, and reached for Verice. He took hers in his, pleased that her fingers were warmer. “Trapped you in a marriage,” she whispered, struggling to keep her eyes open. “Didn’t mean to...I’m sorry.”
“I am not,” Verice whispered, but she was already fast asleep.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Well, that explains quite a bit,” Verice said, as he studied the map of Tassinic, and the neighboring baronies laid out on the floor of Narthing’s room in the Healing Hall. The day had been a blur. Between fears for Warna, and fears for the border, Verice wasn’t sure where the hours had flown.
“I can’t believe that the Baroness of the Black Hills attacked Wyethe and Athelbryght at the same time.” Narthing said. He was seated on the edge of the bed, trying to keep his toes out of Palins. “She had to know that Summerford would rise in response.”
“King Barathiel has pulled his troops back from our border,” Verice said.
“Not far enough,” Ricard growled.
“Far enough to show his intent,” Verice said.
“Aye, sit back and wait for a weakness,” Ricard grumbled.
“True enough,” Verice said. “I’ve let my sources of information lapse there, Pernard.”
“Easily remedied,” Pernard replied. “Leave it to me, m’lord.”
“And the Usurper,” Ricard consulted some notes. “His forces have pulled back as well.”
“Thanks to Elanore’s mistake. With the Black Hills fighting a war on two borders, he can’t count on her support.” Verice said with no little satisfaction.
“Warring on two separate borders at once?” Narthing said. “She’s mad.”
“Well, if she’s taken to raising odium then even if she’s not now crazed, she soon will be.” Verice said grimly.
Pernard shook his head “Has she turned to blood magic?”
“I can’t confirm it,” Verice said. “And I will not risk scouts to learn if it’s true. But what Elanore forgot is that while the High Baron of Summerford and the High Baroness of Wyethe despise each other, they each leap to the other’s defense at the slightest hint of a threat. They’ve joined forces against her, and even if she’s using odium, she cannot stand against them.”
“Stalemate,” Narthing said. “Your enemies afraid to come against you. Exactly as you’d hoped for.”
Verice sighed. “True enough,” he said.But at what price, he asked himself.
Almost as if Pernard had read his thoughts, he cast him a glance. “How is your lady?”
“Not well,” Verice sighed. “In fact, if we’re done here?” He rose from his chair.
