Martin walked into the kitchens and Sara was there, using her powers on a batch of seasonings.
“Martin?” she asked.
“Tolomon’s sleeping. Once Indenuel’s eaten, he should sleep too.”
“What do you think of Tolomon’s chances?” Sara asked.
“I don’t know,” Martin said, easing himself down onto a table. Sara set him a plate of dinner, instructing a servant to pour the spices in a jar before she sat next to him, rubbing his back. “It helps the Warrior himself did most of the healing.”
“Most? Certainly, you did some,” Sara said.
“I protected the organs. None of the smoke got in there. But Indenuel cleaned the smoke like nothing I’ve ever seen. It’s already a miracle we cleaned out as much as we did, but even if a whiff is left, with how much it already broken his body, it doesn’t look good.”
Sara covered her mouth with her hands as Martin cut into the steak.
“I don’t think that poor boy can handle a loss right now.”
“Through the grace of God we will make it, whether celebrating a miracle, or getting thorough this loss."
Sara nodded again. Martin disregarded his rules and kissed the top of Sara’s head while in his High Elder robes. Derio walked in, handing Martin a paper.
“Is it Tolomon?” Sara asked.
“No,” Martin said before he had the paper unfolded. “Derio wouldn’t bother with paper if it was Tolomon." He read the note quickly.
High Elders and King and Queen to have a meeting at Martin’s home. Agenda will follow.
Martin nodded. “Thank you, Derio.” He bowed before leaving the kitchen. “Meeting here. I’ll put them all up in my study.”
“Will they need refreshments?” Sara asked.
“Don’t worry yourself over it,” Martin said.
“I’ll make some anyway.”
“Indenuel got something to eat, right?”
“Yes. He ate enough, and I didn’t push him. I also gave him a healthy dose of ginger tea for his nausea. I heard he had some battle nerves this afternoon,” Sara said.
Sara remained by his side as he continued to eat. He was ready to drop it at a moment’s notice to go to Tolomon’s side, but so far things were quiet. Instead, he went over the conversation he had with Inessa. He glanced around, the servants busy cleaning dinner dishes and getting the unused food packed away. He prepared himself once again to broach the subject with Sara.
“You and Inessa are both tree talkers. That’s something you two have in common.”
Sara grew still as she straightened in her seat. “There are some things I simply cannot do yet.”
“She is lonely here. Everyone is tiptoeing around her because you…” Sara gave him a look that warned him of danger should he keep talking. “That. Right there. Every time anyone talks to her, you give them that look. You must see how it’s keeping her from making friends.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed before she looked around at the servants. “I disapprove of her being here. I cannot hide it. You knew how I’d react, and you let her come all the same. My noble upbringing is letting me tolerate her, but I can never truly welcome her into my home. You cannot force me to welcome her with a hospitality I do not feel.” Sara stood and left the kitchens. Martin watched her go, understanding what she meant, but his heart ached for them both all the same. He could never ask Sara to welcome a girl into her home who had to get pregnant with Martin’s child.
Martin turned his attention to his plate and quickly finished dinner. He had a meeting to attend.
***
It took a lot for the servants to convince Indenuel to take a bath in one of Martin’s guest rooms. He didn’t want to leave Tolomon’s side. He agreed after they promised him constant updates while he bathed, and even then, he took a record fast one.
Once the blood and grime of the battle was finally washed off and he was in a new set of clothes, he headed straight for the sick room, feeling exhausted. He was almost back in the room when Adosina was there.
“Indenuel?” She touched his elbows, and he did the same, needing to feel some sort of touch. Her eyes searched his face. “I wanted to wish you good night. Please get some rest.” Indenuel nodded numbly. “I am glad you are alright.”
He nodded again, looking away. He was alright because Tolomon did his job. Adosina gave him a final squeeze of his elbow before heading off down the hall. He walked into the room. Tolomon was there, unconscious, far too pale. He shouldn’t be this pale. Indenuel stumbled over to the other bed and climbed in, facing his friend, seeing him in the flickering lantern light. It didn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep.
***
Dalius appeared, pushing Cristoval in the chair. “I hope I’m not too late for the meeting.”
“Not at all,” Martin said as Cristoval mumbled something incoherent. Navir said a quick prayer over the meeting.
“What news of the prisoners?” Navir asked as soon as the prayer was over.
“Dead. All of them,” King Ramiro said.
“What?” Fadrique asked.
“Our guards said every single one of the Kiam soldiers took a slow acting poison before they revealed themselves to the Warrior. None of them expected to survive the battle. A few of the Kiamese soldiers spoke Santollian, and they said Kiam does not fear the Warrior and will send more soldiers to kill him before he can fulfill the prophecy,” King Ramiro said.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Martin let out an uneasy breath. “Luckily for us, Tolomon made sure they failed today, but we must be prepared for more.”
“How many total attacked Indenuel?” Dalius asked.
“Fifty,” the King said.
“Fifty?” Fadrique glanced between Navir and the King.
“This has to be a power play,” Dalius said. “Fifty soldiers all taking slow acting poison to die in an attempt to kill the Warrior?”
“Proof they have soldiers they can just throw away,” Fadrique said. “Trying to scare us and make us aware of our own dwindling men. But how could fifty Kiamese soldiers sneak into the city without anyone noticing them?”
“There have long been rumors of Oraminians in the city being their spies. With Indenuel helping them heal a few days ago, it must have started something,” Navir said.
“But he was kind to them,” Queen Lisabeth said. “I don’t understand how his kindness would somehow want these spies to lead him to his death.”
“There is no way Santollians would let Kiam waltz through the front gate,” Dalius said. “Who else could it have been but the Oraminians in the city?”
“We must act swiftly,” Navir said. “This cannot be tolerated.”
“We cannot act on rumor alone,” Martin said. “Our relationship with Oramin is vital. We need proof it was them before we charge into their section of the city and make arrests.”
“The man who threw the grey death was Oraminian. Tolomon managed to shoot one of his eyes out, but the other was distinctly blue. That has to be enough proof,” King Ramiro said.
“It is,” Navir said.
“Still, we must go about this with diplomacy. We cannot treat the whole population like the evil few,” Martin said.
“We must find out who brought them here,” Navir said. “Your majesties, you are certain of you and your men’s standing with Santollia?”
King Ramiro nodded. “Only the best come to the King’s Militia. My wife and I would never want to see Santollia fall.”
“Once we are certain there are no more Kiamese soldiers, start questioning the Oraminian section of the city,” Navir said.
“Nicely,” Martin added. “Interrogate them nicely.”
Navir gave him a look. “Exactly how do you expect them to interrogate the Oramin nicely?”
“Indenuel bridged a gap with them the past few days. And yes, it seems like they might have abused it, but there must be some people who are on our side and willing to help.”
“Ask them to help?” Fadrique asked. “And hope they don’t double-cross us?”
“It’s either that or interrogate them the way we usually do and push them farther into Kiam’s arms,” Martin said.
The door opened and a servant was there, out of breath. “Tolomon’s having a seizing fit.”
Martin leapt to his feet and ran straight for the sick room.
***
Indenuel didn’t know how long he’d been asleep. All he knew was his head hit his pillow when the sun barely disappeared, and he awoke when the moonlight and the four stars shimmered in the sky. Tolomon’s body jerked and shook, blood trickling from his mouth as a servant tried to keep his fingers against his temples.
Indenuel threw his blankets off and ran to his side. The servant immediately let go, and Indenuel closed his eyes, placing his fingers on his friend’s temples. The chaos was there, and he did his best to draw it to him. He was so certain he got everything, but the smoke seeped into every vital organ. It was much harder to pull the smoke out of the vital organs, and they were quickly shutting down.
The door was thrown open and he sensed Martin walk in. Indenuel pushed the covers off Tolomon’s chest and moved his hand to one of his lungs, keeping the other hand over his forehead. He sensed Martin join him. There were others at the doorway, but he ignored them for now.
Martin let out a slow hiss. “It’s deep in his heart and brain.”
“Help me drain it.”
“I’m sorry, Indenuel.” Martin let go. Indenuel opened his eyes, knowing the anger was there plain for everyone to see. “There is too much of it. We cannot possibly get it out in time. It will be easier to ease his passing.”
Indenuel glared at Martin before he tore his gaze away, looking at his friend whose body shook and jerked. The man trained to die to keep others alive. The man who was told his life wasn’t nearly as important as Indenuel’s. That there were dozens of others who could replace him.
“Dalius? Can you guide his soul?” Martin asked quietly. Dalius nodded as he took a few steps forward, rolling up his sleeves.
Indenuel threw himself over Tolomon like that would somehow protect him as he pointed at Dalius. “Stay away from him.”
“This is a mercy. It pains me to do this, but it’s better than letting him suffer.”
He glared at him and Martin. They couldn’t kill him. Not yet. He had one last thing he needed to try. “All of you, stay out of my way.”
He straightened, then closed his eyes, forcing himself into the meditation state. Martin tried to teach him the healing bond for someone’s heart, but he practiced it so much he knew it wasn’t just for the heart. Indenuel pushed his powers as far as they could go to keep Lucia alive for another six months, but it hadn’t mattered. She still died anyway. But maybe all it did was give him practice for this exact moment.
He placed a hand on his heart and one on his head as the room filled with light. Healing power poured into his mind, heart, and every other vital organ in his body before he moved to Tolomon’s shaking form. The bright golden beams of healing power connected his own organs to his friend’s, letting his vital organs power both of them. Heart, lungs, brain, Indenuel fed himself with healing power to keep the connection strong as his body began to take the strain of living for two people.
The shock of it tore Tolomon’s soul out of him, and Indenuel reached forward, grabbing it before pinning it back down. He forced it there, waiting for it to settle and acquaint with this new way of living. He didn’t dare let go until it settled. He eased that part of the power away before he turned to another.
He searched through the body, finding what he needed, the small bit of smoke left. He grabbed it, pushing with his tree powers as he sensed the corruption, sensed the evil and fear that went in to making it. He gasped at the raw power of the smoke, then changed one tiny aspect of it.
Call to those like you, Indenuel ordered.
The smoke did. It sent out a plea for every last bit of smoke to gather in this one place. There was an urgency to it that began the call.
Indenuel’s legs shook beneath him. It was breaking his connection. He couldn’t, not yet. The call was made. It might be slow, but it would pick up. It had to pick up. Tolomon’s soul shivered again, needing to leave the body. Indenuel placed his hand flat against Tolomon’s chest, tears flowing down his cheeks.
“Not… yet…” he strained.
Martin grabbed Indenuel’s elbows, flooding him with power. He gasped, the concentration back. Another pair of hands were on his arm reaching toward Tolomon’s stomach and felt his tree powers growing. It must have been Navir. Dalius, too, touched his hand holding onto Tolomon’s chest and the soul settled back into place. Indenuel closed his eyes, grabbing the smoke and forcing more power into it, forcing it to speed up. The smoke gathered and he waited, watched, as it formed into one collective. With every ounce of strength left, he forced it up Tolomon’s body before it came out of his mouth and turned into harmless powder.
He cut off the healing power to his own organs before throwing it into Tolomon. The jolt sent Tolomon upright, gasping and coughing, clutching his heart.
Indenuel collapsed in Martin and Navir’s arms. Martin was ordering one of the servants as he and Navir dragged him away. A servant touched Tolomon’s temples, and he was unconscious once again, but the color returned to his face.
Indenuel’s body shook and didn’t stop. He couldn’t calm his breathing as his body began to shut down.
“What’s happening?” Navir asked.
“He pushed himself beyond his limit. His body is going into shock,” Martin said.
“What do you need?” Navir asked.
Indenuel was breathing hard, his body demanding all the air in the room. There wasn’t enough. He needed it all. His body needed to work again. He remembered when this happened with Lucia. He went back to instinct, forcing his own healing power into himself. He’d die without it. He needed to heal himself.
He didn’t know what else Martin and Navir said, but soon a blanket was around him. King Ramiro held him tightly to keep his body from jerking too much as Martin placed his fingers on his temples and poured a waterfall of healing power into him.
Indenuel gasped. Martin’s healing brought the oxygen into the blood, calming the body, easing the tension, feeding focus into his brain. His breathing calmed, and exhaustion hit him. This was so much easier than trying to heal himself.
Martin let go of Indenuel’s temples, straightening his head. “It’s alright, Indenuel. Sleep now. I’ll stay by Tolomon’s side.”
Indenuel felt tears leak out of his eyes, but he allowed himself to give in.