“Is everyone accounted for?” Kjell raised his voice above the din. “Where are your wounded?”
“The kitchen, Captain. The queen, the midwife, and Tess are providing aid, water, and bandages there,” Jerick answered, pushing through the bailey toward him.
“And King Aren?”
“He was in the rear with me. We almost lost Gaspar, but His Majesty was able to briefly spin and give him cover. The birdman got a beakful of green leaves before we took him down. The king was shaken but unharmed, and Gaspar has a broken arm. He might appreciate a Healer in the kitchen, although the queen might not.”
Jerick grinned as if it had all been a marvelous adventure, as if he enjoyed irritated females and the smell of Volgar flesh. Kjell found himself grinning back. If Sasha’s irritation was the worst he would suffer this day, he would count himself a lucky man. She had not been pleased when Kjell had ringed her with his men. She’d clutched her sharpened stick with annoyance and sliced her palm alongside the others, but she’d been shadowed and preempted with every parry and thrust. Kjell had known exactly where she was every second of the conflict.
He moved through the corridors to the kitchen, taking stock and counting heads as he went. When he saw her, the pressure in his chest and the ache in his belly eased. Her nose was smudged with soot and a few curls twined around her cheeks, but she was whole. Well. Busy. Kjell looked around for Gaspar and immediately located the watchman, curled in the corner. Gaspar’s face was pale with suffering, his arm clutched against his abdomen, his cat-eyes glittering with pain. Kjell crouched in front of him and touched his thrumming heart, listening for the tone that would ease his suffering. Gaspar had come to Caarn after the border had opened. It would take no effort to heal him.
Gaspar’s healing sound was more like a purr—cats were not famed for their song—and Kjell pulled the rattling vibrations into himself, setting the broken bone and quelling Gaspar’s pain with an ease that had him stepping away and looking for someone else to assist.
“The king is still in the woods, Captain,” Gaspar exhaled, his relief so great his words were slurred and his eyes fluttered closed. “He wanted a moment by himself, but you should see to him. He was . . . troubled.”
The king was not hard to find. He stood propped against the gate that led to the western wood, his eyes on the queen’s garden, a hand pressed to his heart as though lost in pleasant remembrance. It was a peaceful spot, and Kjell could not fault the man for needing a chance to collect himself.
“We’ve defeated them, Captain,” Aren said as Kjell approached. He remained slumped, his eyes still clinging to his own thoughts.
“Yes. For now. Maybe forever. But some of the villagers were injured. Some were lost, Majesty,” Kjell answered.
“Most were saved,” Aren replied, and his gaze shifted from the queen’s garden and rested on Kjell. He pushed himself away from the wall with the hand that had rested on his chest.
“You’re wounded,” Kjell gasped. The king’s hand was slick and scarlet with blood. Kjell yanked the king’s cloak aside, revealing a saturated tunic and Aren’s arm tucked firmly against his body, attempting to stem the flow.
The king staggered, and Kjell took his weight, easing him to the ground.
“You are the son of Koorah, Captain. Of that I have no doubt. I can see her in you. Like you, she was convinced she had nothing to offer. She never wanted to be queen. But she would have been a good queen. And you will be a good king,” Aren reassured.
“Cease speaking, Aren,” Kjell bellowed, and pressed his hands to the king’s side, searching for the source of the blood.
“Tiras!” Kjell shouted. “Sasha, help me!”
“You cannot heal me again, Captain,” the king said, his voice strained but his face serene.
Kjell groaned, helpless, and bore down, pressing his hands to the king’s sodden tunic, demanding submission from his gift. He would heal Aren’s wounds, just like he’d healed the Volgar slashes on Sasha’s back. He just needed time. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, refusing to meet the king’s gaze, denying his inability to save him.
“There isn’t time,” the king said, reading Kjell’s desperation. “I don’t want to die here. Help me stand.”
“I can heal you!”
“Help me stand, Captain!” the king bellowed, adamant. He pushed up to his knees and found his feet, swaying as he took a step. Kjell was there to brace him, and they began to stagger toward the trees, Kjell bearing much of Aren’s weight, the king focused on the tallest of the wooded sentries bordering the rise behind the castle.
“Take me to the glade,” the king urged. “There’s a spot there for me.”
Then they weren’t alone. Villagers were streaming behind them, responding to Kjell’s call. Gaspar and Sasha weren’t far behind, Padrig on her heels. Tiras, bare-chested and shoeless but with his sword in hand, was just beyond them. King Aren ignored them all, pushing forward, his teeth gritted, his face set, determined to reach the grove.
“Here, Healer,” he groaned as the woods opened up into a small clearing. “This is the place.” Kjell tried to ease the king to the forest floor, but Aren insisted on standing, bracing himself on Kjell’s shoulders.
“It is your birthright, Kjell of Caarn. Don’t squander it,” King Aren said, his face grey. With bloodied hands, he lifted the crown from his head and placed it on Kjell’s.
Aren swayed, and Kjell braced his legs, keeping the king upright, ignoring the crown on his head as he continued to plead with his gift, magnifying the song that emanated from the king’s spirit. But the melody did not mend, the blood did not abate, and the king was dying in his arms.
“Sasha,” Kjell called out to her. “Help me heal him. Help me.”
Sasha rushed to his side, but it was not Kjell’s hand she took. With streaming eyes and trembling lips, she clasped Aren’s large palm between both of hers and gave him the strength he needed to spin one last time. Forever.
“I’ll be close to Grandfather Tree. Just as I planned,” the king said, his eyes on hers. “Be happy, Saoirse,” he whispered. Clinging to her hand, he closed his eyes.