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He cuts me a look and I giggle. “No offense meant, sir.”
“None taken, I suppose.” But he is smiling. “We have men posted at every road leading to the castle. They are informing the guards and palace dwellers that there is an outbreak of the pox in the village, so no entry will be permitted. I can sleep well this night.”
“That’s bloody brilliant,” I admit. “We should take the palace quite easily then, aye? They will not be expecting a ruse.”
“That’s the idea,” Sir Victor says, “but we must still be prepared for anything. Never underestimate your enemy, no matter how securely your trap is set. All that aside, your grace, I will accept your invitation to come inside. Maybe some ale and a bite to eat? I will admit, my gut is quite empty.”
We secure the horses and Sir Victor opens the door for me.
“After you, your grace.”
“Well, your grace or not, I will still prepare the meal in my own kitchen.”
I pour us two cups of ale and steep some chamomile tea. I slice the carrots and add some butter and salt on top and set them to baking. I bake some apples as well, adding a dash of sugar and cinnamon. When the baking is through, I slice some olive loaf and place some jerky on our plates. I set out a small dish of sweet bread.
“This is a feast,” Sir Victor says, “fit for—”
“A queen?” I say and wink.
“Indeed.”
We eat like we haven’t in days. It feels good to have someone at my table. I miss having meals with Gram. Sir Victor pushes back from the table when he’s through.
“More ale or tea, Sir Victor?”
“Oh, no. I am quite satisfied. Thank you for the proper meal, my lady. It was divine.”
I stand to clear the table and touch Sir Victor’s arm when he stands to assist me. He winces.
“Sir Victor, is there something wrong with your arm?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I was injured during my rescue from the gallows. It is basically a scratch, highness. It will heal.”
“Roll up your sleeve and let me see it. That is the second time you’ve reacted from my touch. I fear it may be infected.”
He starts rolling up his sleeve. “Aye, my lady. Would it do me any good to refuse you anyway?”
“No, my lord. Now follow me to the apothecary and let’s take a look at that arm.”
I turn on the lantern in the apothecary and it comes alive with the same wonderment I felt as a child when Gram would set me on the table and show me different herbs and roots. The feeling was always a magical one, knowing that her potions contained healing and calm, ways to take away afflictions and pain. I swear I can see Gram’s shadow on the wall, guiding me to the correct jar and the proper mixtures. She is the knowledge and heart of this room, and when I’m here, she is with me.
It is as I feared. Sir Victor’s arm is sliced a little deeper than he has realized, and the cut is soundly infected.
“I will need to suture this. And it will hurt. I can put a poultice on the cut to numb the skin, but it will not numb the pain of the infection. You have allowed this wound to fester too long I’m afraid. But it must be done. I fear you will get sickness in your blood if I don’t take care of this now.”
“Whatever you feel is best, my lady. I trust you.”
I nod. “Take off your shirt then and lie on the table. I need to gather my supplies.”
I shake off the nerves now hitting me, wringing my hands to loosen the slight tremors. Why did I not check Sir Victor’s arm the first time I noticed the wincing? But none of that matters at the moment. I need to take care of his arm now.
“Be with me Gram,” I mumble. “I need you.”
I turn around when the supplies are gathered. Sir Victor is sitting on the table, his shirt off and resting around his waist. His blond hair is like shining flames in the lantern light, and his muscled arms and chest are as deep brown as the earth. I try not to stare as I set the supplies on the table.
“I need to heat the blade,” I say. “I’ll be back shorty.”
“Blade?” he asks.
