Mercy's Prince by Katy Huth Jones Page B

The battle raging all around seemed far, far away. As the world
grew dark, the last thing he saw clearly was Kieran’s horrified face.
    ***
    Caelis
turned his warhorse with his knees and used the grappling hook to pull yet
another battle-ax from the grasp of a Mohorovian. The monster roared, and with
an answering yell, Caelis impaled the creature with his spear. A handful of the
Horde fled toward the east. Caelis couched his spear, prepared to go after
them, but King Orland held up a mailed fist.
    “Let
them go,” he said. The king raised the visor on his helmet.
    In
disbelief, Caelis started to protest, but the grim look on Orland’s face
prevented him. Why was the king showing mercy when it would be simple to finish
them off?
    Then
Caelis followed King Orland’s gaze. A crowd gathered around a fallen man. When
some of them shifted Caelis caught a glimpse of a purple surcoat. Prince
Valerian. Was he dead or merely wounded? Caelis could scarcely hide his
satisfaction.
    The
king’s squire ran to Orland and bowed.
    “Your
Majesty,” the young man said. “The prince is badly hurt. A belly wound.” Sorrow
wreathed his face.
    “Is
the battle surgeon with him?” Orland’s voice was strained to the point of
breaking.
    “Yes,
Your Majesty.” The squire wrung his hands. “They will move Prince Valerian to
the infirmary as quickly as possible.”
    King
Orland nodded. Then he sheathed his spear and removed his helmet, handing it to
the squire.
    “Tell
the surgeon I shall meet him in the infirmary.”
    “Yes,
Sire.” The squire bowed and returned to the somber group.
    After
composing his features, King Orland turned his attention to Caelis.
    “The
grappling hook was effective in disarming the Horde, Sir Caelis.” He
straightened and inhaled a deep breath. “Ride with me to the Keep.”
    “Yes,
Your Majesty.” Caelis signaled Drew and gave the squire his helmet.
    They
rode at an easy pace past the fallen. The king stared forward, and Caelis kept
expecting him to speak, but he never said a word. Though there was much Caelis
wanted to say, it was enough that Orland had chosen Caelis to accompany him.
After all, the sight of the two of them returning alone, both riding white
stallions, would make a memorable impression on all who saw them.
    When
they reached the stables, King Orland reined in his horse and turned his face
to Caelis.
    “Thank
you, Sir Caelis,” he said simply. Then he dismounted and strode into the Keep,
alone.
    Caelis
handed his horse over to a groom and took his spear to the armory for repair.
The tip of the blade had broken, though the grappling hook was undamaged.
Before he stepped inside the noisy armory, Caelis stopped and calmed himself.
If Valerian died, it would make King Orland’s dilemma easier, for then the king
would not have to choose to disinherit his only remaining son. Caelis wished
for the whelp’s death, then, even if it would lessen his triumph.

Chapter 10        
As
cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country.
    Mercy
and Rafael raced to Sister Providence’s cottage which she shared with Grace and
little Diligence. The girl stood in the doorway waiting for them.
    “Please
hurry.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Grandmama has lost so much blood.”
    The
old woman lay on a pallet. Although Grace was trying to clean her mother with
rags stained red, blood still bubbled from a deep gash in Providence’s head.
Mercy moved Grace’s hand holding the rag over the wound.
    “Put
pressure here.” Mercy demonstrated for the older woman, grateful Grace didn’t
question her authority. “Dilly, you and Rafael run back to our cottage and
bring the bucket of water there. Careful not to spill too much.”
    “Yes,
Mercy.” Dilly grabbed Rafael’s hand and they disappeared.
    Mercy
took a bloodroot from her carry sack. With her small knife she scored the tough
outer skin until the vital sap began to flow. Then she turned to Grace.
    “Lift
your hands