The problem was evidently in his chest, and Chloe found herself agreeing with his magi’s assessment: he had a cancer, a malignant growth inside him. It was advanced, she decided. The magi, priests, and priestesses from the Temple of Aeris said that such cases always meant a painful but imminent death.
Completing her inspection, she saw the steward returning with the items she’d asked for. He’d brought a slave with him, an old man with a loincloth bunched around his waist.
‘He is the best I could find at short notice,’ the steward said. ‘A night worker. I found him scrubbing floors.’
‘Please, place the items on the table there.’ Chloe pointed.
She soon busied herself preparing the tea of the soma flower, adding the plant matter from the bowl to the jug of hot water.
‘What is it that you are making?’ the magus asked.
‘Tea,’ Chloe said.
‘What is in it?’ he persisted.
‘A flower, prepared in a special way.’
‘What flower?’ he asked in exasperation.
Chloe knew she had to let the tea steep for a time. She hesitated as she saw the magus come over to watch, hovering at her shoulder. ‘The tulip.’
‘Tulip?’ He scowled. ‘I would know if tulips had uses other than in a poultice.’
‘It must be selected with care,’ Chloe said, examining the swirling contents of the jug. ‘I must select a single bulb out of hundreds. Certain features mark out a bulb that possesses the power to ease pain.’
‘I want you to show me how you make it,’ the magus demanded.
‘The process is simple. I’ve ground the closed flower pod and now I’m making this tea. You’ve seen me do it.’
‘Let her continue,’ the bald lord in orange robes instructed from the other side of the bed. ‘The king of kings is in pain.’
The magus grunted.
Chloe made a filter out of the fine silk, doubling it over on itself. She glanced around the room, seeing that the steward was busy pressing a damp cloth to the sun king’s brow. ‘I need someone to help me.’
‘I will,’ the lord said. He came around the bed and the magus made way for him. ‘What can I do?’
‘Hold this cloth over the cup. Mind your hands, the water is hot.’
Chloe poured the tea over the cloth in small portions until the cup was full and sodden plant matter had gathered on the silk. Seeing that enough liquid remained in the jug for another cup, she returned the soma flower clinging to the silk to the jug, scraping it off with her fingertips, loath to waste any of its potency.
Finally, she trickled honey from another jar into the cup, then dropped in a wedge of lemon. The last two ingredients were purely to disguise the taste.
‘It’s done,’ she said.
Reaching around Chloe and the lord, the magus took hold of the cup and turned, beckoning for the old slave to come closer.
‘Drink,’ the magus said. ‘A good swallow or I will have you impaled.’
Glancing fearfully at the onlookers, the old slave tipped the cup back, drinking a third of the contents in a single gulp.
While the magus and lord waited, Chloe kept her expression neutral. She saw that the steward had brought a second empty cup and with a nod at the lord to help her again she prepared the additional serving.
When she was done, she returned her gaze to the room. With nothing to occupy her attention the wait dragged out. The old slave looked from face to face. The tension had gone out of his stooped shoulders. He looked like a man contentedly preparing for bed.
‘How do you feel?’ the lord asked.
‘I feel . . .’ He cleared his throat. ‘I feel fine.’
‘We should wait longer,’ the magus growled.
At that moment the sun king began to writhe, waving his arms about as he clutched at his chest and then reached out to grab hold of the steward’s arm. He coughed, a wracking, shuddering cough that hurt Chloe to hear. He continued for what felt like an eternity and then blessedly stopped, his skin so pale he looked like death. The steward touched a cloth to his lips and Chloe was almost surprised to see there was no blood.
‘We can wait no longer,’ the steward said.
‘I agree,’ said the lord in orange robes. He nodded at the magus. ‘Give the cup to the steward.’
Solon leaned forward slightly to swallow the tea, his bony throat swelling and contracting as he gulped it down. The steward tilted the cup back until every drop was gone.
The king lay back once more. Every set of eyes in the room was on him.
His color slowly returned.
The sun king’s lips parted. He spoke, his voice strengthening with every word. ‘Better . . . So much better.’ His eyes were slightly glazed. ‘The pain. It is still present, but my soul’s passage through the jagged gates is made easier.’
A sleepy smile crossed his face. The magus frowned, but the steward looked relieved.
‘The girl,’ Solon murmured. ‘Bring her to me.’
The bald man took Chloe by the elbow and led her to the sun king’s bedside.
‘What can I do, king of kings?’ she asked.