Chapter 16 Visitors

Why are they screaming? Lemme see. Lemme see. That’s #17. He’s stopped mid-plunge! My Prince’s face is so pale – and all that blood is pulsing out! Here are the magi. They’ll help him. They’ll keep him immobile. — Prince Eater #34

Jon was sleeping restlessly in the bed, almost jealous of Alec’s soft snores from the cot. He had been struggling to fall asleep despite the pain and all the uncomfortable thoughts swirling in his mind. Once he had finally fallen asleep, his dreams quickly turned to the nightmare of Reggie’s Ritual, and he was once again witnessing his two brothers being ripped limb from limb. He tried to call out, but a hand across his mouth kept him from screaming. He knocked at the hand with his good arm, discovered the hand on his mouth was real, and jarred awake. He found himself staring into the deep, gentle, blue eyes of the bull from the open field.

“Don’t scream. I won’t hurt you. Promise you won’t scream,” the bull whispered in its gruff voice. Stunned, Jon nodded, and the bull removed his hand. “I need to know that you are okay.”

Still stunned, Jon nodded again.

“Are they taking good care of you? Will you be all right?”

Jon nodded a second time and a third.

“Are you sure?”

Jon nodded once more.

“Okay. I need to leave before anyone sees me here. It’s dangerous,” the bull said. “I will stop back when I can. I need to be sure you’re healing and doing all right.”

Jon sat up in the bed to watch as the bull lifted his hooves one by one and set them down quietly on the floor until he had gained the door. The bull turned back, waved one hand at Jon, and then slipped into the hallway. Jon stared after him for long minutes.

As Alec collected the empty buckets and Jon’s night chamber pot in the morning, Jon told him, “I saw a bull last night.”

“Oh? Where at?” Alec responded, half-listening.

“Here,” Jon explained. “He came to see if I was okay.”

“Maybe I need to reduce your pain medication for a while.”

“No, he was real. He was actually here. He was in the field, too, before you found me. He seems familiar.”

Alec stopped, studied Jon carefully, and then said, “I’m sorry. I thought you meant you dreamed you saw a bull. Or that you hallucinated it because of the pain medication. As I think about it, I do remember seeing hoof prints in that field, but I didn’t pay attention. I was focused on you.”

“He said he wanted to see if I was okay.”

“He spoke to you?”

“Yes, he asked whether you were taking good care of me and if I was healing well,” Jon explained. He paused and bit one of his lips in thought. Finally, he muttered softly, “Bulls don’t talk. Maybe I did dream it.”

“I heard the door opening and closing. It woke me up,” Alec said with a kind smile. Jon shrugged, so Alec added sincerely, “When I looked around you were sitting up but didn’t seem to be in pain, only deep in thought, so I didn’t disturb you.”

One afternoon at the beginning of the third dimming, Annie and Tom came by while Jon was by the fire. They were happy to sit on the floor the same way Alec always did so they could visit with him. The next day Tom came to the door followed by Rory and a deliveryman hauling two upholstered chairs.

“Tom?” Alec asked as he hurried to lift Jon so he could place him in bed. Once he had, Alec moved the wooden chair, repositioned the buckets of water lined up by the fireplace, and snatched up the blanket that Jon had tossed aside. Stepping back he measured the open space with his eyes and tossed Jon a shrug.

“These were in the small morning room at the back of the house. We never sit there,” Tom replied with a smile. “They’re of no use to us.”

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“I don’t know what to say,” Alec responded as he punched Tom amiably on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

“No use to you,” Jon mumbled awkwardly to himself as he turned his face to the wall. “Like me. And Gunnar.”

“Gunnar? Your brother?” Tom asked. Jon looked at the floor, and then rested a hand on his throat and swallowed.

“Yes,” Alec answered for him. “Gunnar is second to youngest, right after Jon, and then Seán is the youngest.”

“Why do you mention him?” Tom asked. “He’s still in Hilltown isn’t he?”

Jon’s eyes took in the upholstered chair and Rory, and then flew open in alarm when he saw the delivery man who moved his head slightly from side to side.

“Sh-she has to get to Seán. Tha-tha…” Jon articulated with difficulty, his eyes still fixed on the delivery man.

Since he and Jon talked regularly, Alec was surprised at Jon’s distress. He crossed the room, knelt beside Jon, and placed a hand on Jon’s knee. He soothed, “Take it easy. It’s okay.”

Jon focused on Alec’s eyes, took several breaths, and finally was able to say, “She doesn’t want him.”

“Who doesn’t want him?” Tom asked as he searched his mind trying to figure out what Jon was trying to say.

“Do you mean Ava Most Revered doesn’t want Gunnar to become the Holy Prince?” Unexpectedly it was Rory who comprehended and came to Jon’s aid as he and the delivery man angled a chair to thread their way between everyone so they could set it in front of the fireplace.

“Y-y-y,” Jon stuttered, and then simply nodded.

“Is she planning on killing him in the Ritual?” Rory asked, still reaching out with questions to ease Jon’s anxiety at not being able to form the words with his wounded face and mouth.

“T-t-told me when …b-b-beating me,” Jon responded as his breathing grew labored and his face paled. “M-m-must h-h-help him.”

“Sheeesh,” Tom said. “How can anyone be as evil as that woman?”

“Take it easy, Jon,” Alex said. He pulled his handkerchief out, refolded it, and then gently wiped the drool and saliva spreading on Jon’s face because of his lack of muscle control.

“Th…them,” Jon stammered, waving his hand intensely toward the others in the room. “me…useless.”

“Just focus on breathing,” Alec continued in a soft drone. “You’re okay. You’re safe here. They’re family.” He sent a long look at the delivery man before adding, “And friends. Just breathe.”

“Turn your backs,” Rory suggested. “He’ll calm down more quickly if we’re not staring at him.”

Everyone did as Rory suggested while Alec continued to assist Jon.

Tom said loudly to the room at large, “Let me give some thought to the situation with Gunnar. We have agents in Hilltown. Maybe they can ferry him out before anything happens.”

“The Grays will be watching him,” the delivery man interjected.

“What do you mean?” Tom questioned, turning his head and shoulders to look directly at him. “What do Grays have to do with the princes?”

“They protect the princes, now, not King Harrison. He gave the Armored Grays to his sons,” the delivery man replied as he choked out the end of the sentence alongside a violent cough. He abruptly dropped the chair that he and Rory carried, covered his face with his arm, and coughed into the inside of his elbow.

“A guest mentioned the same thing to us yesterday,” Rory affirmed, as he edged back from the coughing.

Alec looked at the delivery man questioningly and examined him more closely. The delivery man was well suited to the task - massive with strong muscles and chiseled features. Dark, curly hair peeked out from under the edges of a cap worn low over his ears and a kerchief covered part of his face.

“Sorry, got a bad cold starting,” the delivery man said hoarsely. He coughed again, half bent over and spinning in a circle as he did. “That’s why I’m wearing protection. So that I don’t get germs everywhere. I’m headed home right after this.”

Tom walked over to the delivery man, pushed the man’s upper arm in the direction of the door, and said, “Go on downstairs. I’ll help bring up the other chair and footstool. You go rest. If you've gone by the time we’re done here, I’ll leave your gratuity with Craig so you can collect it later. Use it for medicine.”

“Thank you,” the delivery man half-said, half-coughed, and then walked out the door.

Tom lifted one hand as if waving goodbye and said, “We’ll get the other chair, and then I’ll leave you alone so you can rest, Jon.” He pointed to Alec with his chin and said, “Thank you.”

Tom and Rory followed the delivery man out, and about ten minutes later Rory and Callen returned carrying another chair. As the two brothers positioned the second chair, Callen explained, “Mr. Jarek went home.”

On the next trip up the brothers brought comfortable cushions and a large, padded footstool.

Callen set the footstool between the two chairs while Rory arranged the cushions, and then apologized, “I’m sorry about the other guy. He wasn’t coughing earlier. I hope that he hasn’t made Jon sick.”

“I hope not, too,” Alec agreed. “He didn’t really come close to Jon, though. I have to admit I never heard of germs until we moved here.” When Rory and Callen laughed, he finished, “Thank you for bringing these up those stairs. Four flights are a long way to haul furniture.”

Rory and Callen smiled in acknowledgment, and then let themselves out.

Alec gazed at the two chairs. He was both amazed at Annie’s generosity to a brother she had never met before they came to SnakeIn and profoundly grateful to her for it. When Jon raised one arm, Alec hurried over and assisted his friend to the chairs. Once he was seated, Alec gently lifted Jon’s damaged leg and set it on the footstool.

“You’ll help G-g-g…?” Jon asked sadly.

“I’ll try,” Alec agreed. “I don’t see how yet. You need my care here, and neither of us can return to Hilltown. But I agree that something needs to be done. Hopefully, Tom will have some ideas.”

Jon’s disappointment was obvious, but he still reached out for Alec’s hand. Pulling the other soft chair closer to Jon’s, Alec enclosed Jon’s hand in his own. The corner of Jon’s mouth turned up in a smile, and then he closed his eyes and let his head incline against the back of the chair.

Alec sat quietly, trying not to let his despair disturb Jon’s nap. Although he could see physical improvements, Jon showed no sign of recovering psychologically.

©2022 Vera S. Scott