A Knight to Remember by Christina Dodd Read Free Book Online

She spoke urgently, trying to pierce the mists that shrouded him. “You’ve got to come back. It’s warm here. There are people who love you.”
    He didn’t move.
    “Well, not people, but Wharton.” He gave no indication he heard, but she continued. “He’s dedicated to you. I don’t know what you’ve done to deserve that, but somehow, somewhere you’ve made yourself a hero in his eyes.” Tonight there was only Hugh, and she scooted a little closer to him, bringing his head onto her knees. Leaning down, she spoke into his ear. “I’m sure a large number of women miss you. Nice women. Ladies.”
    She’d always thought the promise of women couldbring a man back from the dead, but she’d never put it to the test before. She was wrong, it seemed, so she gritted her teeth and did what she had sworn never to do again. She cradled him against her chest.
    He needed her now. He had wandered too far into the cold lands, and she wanted to infuse him with a sense of her warmth. In the instinctual act of a mother who had calmed babies with the sound of her heartbeat, she cradled his head so it rested against her chest.
    He wasn’t a child. Nothing could make her think that. He weighed too much. His length stretched out too far. Muscles, not baby fat, delineated his body. But as he burned her with the heat of his fever, she felt a tenderness that must have its origins in maternal custody. She stroked his hair away from his forehead, trying to give him comfort, to be as close as possible so he wouldn’t be alone.
    “ I’m waiting for you here.”
    She blinked, then looked around. Who’d said that? It couldn’t have been her. She would never confess such a weakness.
    “But why not?” Again the sound of her own voice surprised her. “Who’ll hear me?” She patted Hugh’s cheek, rough with his unshaved beard. “You won’t remember, will you? You scarcely remember me at all.”
    A twinge of discomfort impinged on her confidence. He had, after all, known her face even in his first wounded agony. But now he was not just wounded but savagely ill. Dying, unless she could somehow make a difference.
    Little wisps of steam rose from the dragon’s blood even as it cooled, and the color darkened to a ruby, glowing as if it shed light. It called to her, and she once again dunked the rag into the dragon’s blood and dribbled the liquid into his mouth. It stained her fingers, and she sucked them dry.
    Rambling now, she asked, “Don’t you remember how, when we were young, I used to trail around after you? I adored you. I loved you. You were so tall and strong and so handsome I used to waste time just looking at you when I should have been spinning. Lady Alisoun would scold me. You’re the reason I still can’t spin an even thread.” She chuckled, remembering the joy and agony of that first love. “I always knew you would succeed in your every endeavor. Something about you—the way you strode about, so sure of yourself, the way you rushed to embrace every challenge—made me sure if you would notice me, you’d take me on a journey to the stars.”
    Memories spiraled up at her from a hidden place in her mind, and her smile faded. Oblivious to the weight on her arm, she caressed the shell of his ear. “You didn’t notice me. Then one day—do you remember a village woman by the name of Avina?” She laughed without humor. “You ought to remember her, unless you’ve swived so many women she’s lost in the dust of nostalgia. You used to meet her in the barn. I would think you could have hidden a little better, but I suppose everyone knew to stay away. Everyone but me.” Disgusted at the stupid girl she had been, she dipped her fingers into the pot of dragon’s blood. After all, if the dragon’s blood was a restorative, she needed it, too, and she rather liked the taste.
    “Want some?” She asked as if he could hear her, then with her fingers stained red she rubbed the juice on his gums, his teeth, his tongue.