It did not mitigate her anger, but it made her curious about not asking for food. Those involved in bedplay usually needed food and drink to bolster their strength.
She waited for the tray to arrive and, with it, her excuse for entry. But a small, niggling thought kept entering her mind. She shook it off and leaned against the wall. There it was again—a slight shiver ran through her and she knew that something was not right. She lifted the latch of the door even as she knocked lightly on it.
“My lord? Are you within?” she called out in a low voice. “My lord…”
Pushing open the door slowly and quietly, she could see the empty bed first and then, as she stepped within the chamber, she saw him slumped on the floor. Rushing to his side, she lifted his head gently and saw that he was still breathing. The heat emanating from his skin and body told her the problem—he was ill, very ill.
Letting his head rest once more upon the floor, she rushed from the room seeking help. She directed the first servant she saw to bring Alyce and Sir Walter to the chamber and returned to Christian. Turning him until he lay flat on the floor, she then pulled down the bedcovers so that he could be placed there without delay when help arrived.
Although she knew only a few minutes passed, it seemed like hours until she finally heard the clamor of approaching people in the hallway outside the chamber. Sir Walter entered first, followed by Alyce and then others. Within moments, her husband had been placed on the bed and her herb chest was on its way to her, along with other supplies she might need.
Alyce efficiently cleared the chamber of all but herself and Sir Walter and then waited for directions. Emalie placed a cold compress on Christian’s brow and wiped his face and throat with a rag dipped in herbs and cool water. For the first time, he stirred beneath her hands.
“I…have…been…ill,” he whispered in words forced out.
“You are ill, my lord. Lie quietly and let me try to rid you of the fever.”
He grabbed her wrist as she reached for the compress on his head and held her still. “I have been ill,” he repeated, and he tried to rise from the bed. He pushed his hair out of his fever-glazed eyes and collapsed before she could ask Walter for help.
Looking at him with a healer’s eyes, Emalie saw once more the signs of illness that she had first seen while he slept in his bath. Whatever his affliction had been, it had taken its toll on him. Now the fever was back upon him and needed to be treated.
Realizing that fever was more effectively treated when the whole body was bathed in cool water, she began to unlace his tunic and the linen shirt beneath it. Her hands shook as she unbuckled the belt at his waist, but she noted that the holes used now were not the well-worn ones farther out in the leather. Her husband had lost weight since wearing this belt and these clothes.
“Milady? Would you like some help with that?” Alyce asked softly from her place next to Emalie. “Why do you not see to the brews you will need and Sir Walter and I can take care of this.”
Emalie nodded and saw that her truth was known to both of them. How had they known? They should have expected the bloody sheets. Christian would have needed to confirm his claim should the need arise. Had she given herself away by word or deed?
She walked to the table, opened and searched her chest of herbs and powders and prepared a beverage for him with watered wine, herbs to lower the fever and others to give him strength. The sheet had just been placed over him when she finished. It took a long time to get the drink down his throat in small amounts, coaxing it swallow by swallow until he finished it. Smoothing his hair out of his face, she laid his head back down and adjusted the pillow beneath it.
“He has already lost so much weight, he can not afford more from this fever. Tell the cook to prepare a beef stock as soon as possible.”
“Aye,
She waited for the tray to arrive and, with it, her excuse for entry. But a small, niggling thought kept entering her mind. She shook it off and leaned against the wall. There it was again—a slight shiver ran through her and she knew that something was not right. She lifted the latch of the door even as she knocked lightly on it.
“My lord? Are you within?” she called out in a low voice. “My lord…”
Pushing open the door slowly and quietly, she could see the empty bed first and then, as she stepped within the chamber, she saw him slumped on the floor. Rushing to his side, she lifted his head gently and saw that he was still breathing. The heat emanating from his skin and body told her the problem—he was ill, very ill.
Letting his head rest once more upon the floor, she rushed from the room seeking help. She directed the first servant she saw to bring Alyce and Sir Walter to the chamber and returned to Christian. Turning him until he lay flat on the floor, she then pulled down the bedcovers so that he could be placed there without delay when help arrived.
Although she knew only a few minutes passed, it seemed like hours until she finally heard the clamor of approaching people in the hallway outside the chamber. Sir Walter entered first, followed by Alyce and then others. Within moments, her husband had been placed on the bed and her herb chest was on its way to her, along with other supplies she might need.
Alyce efficiently cleared the chamber of all but herself and Sir Walter and then waited for directions. Emalie placed a cold compress on Christian’s brow and wiped his face and throat with a rag dipped in herbs and cool water. For the first time, he stirred beneath her hands.
“I…have…been…ill,” he whispered in words forced out.
“You are ill, my lord. Lie quietly and let me try to rid you of the fever.”
He grabbed her wrist as she reached for the compress on his head and held her still. “I have been ill,” he repeated, and he tried to rise from the bed. He pushed his hair out of his fever-glazed eyes and collapsed before she could ask Walter for help.
Looking at him with a healer’s eyes, Emalie saw once more the signs of illness that she had first seen while he slept in his bath. Whatever his affliction had been, it had taken its toll on him. Now the fever was back upon him and needed to be treated.
Realizing that fever was more effectively treated when the whole body was bathed in cool water, she began to unlace his tunic and the linen shirt beneath it. Her hands shook as she unbuckled the belt at his waist, but she noted that the holes used now were not the well-worn ones farther out in the leather. Her husband had lost weight since wearing this belt and these clothes.
“Milady? Would you like some help with that?” Alyce asked softly from her place next to Emalie. “Why do you not see to the brews you will need and Sir Walter and I can take care of this.”
Emalie nodded and saw that her truth was known to both of them. How had they known? They should have expected the bloody sheets. Christian would have needed to confirm his claim should the need arise. Had she given herself away by word or deed?
She walked to the table, opened and searched her chest of herbs and powders and prepared a beverage for him with watered wine, herbs to lower the fever and others to give him strength. The sheet had just been placed over him when she finished. It took a long time to get the drink down his throat in small amounts, coaxing it swallow by swallow until he finished it. Smoothing his hair out of his face, she laid his head back down and adjusted the pillow beneath it.
“He has already lost so much weight, he can not afford more from this fever. Tell the cook to prepare a beef stock as soon as possible.”
“Aye,
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