Read Don't Forget to Dream Online

Authors: Kathryn Ling

Don't Forget to Dream (33 page)


And I do trust you,

a voice came from the open doorway. Rhyla jumped and squealed in surprise, while Marin twisted painfully and was unable to prevent a groan from escaping, as they instantly recognised The Prince. He strode in to stand by the bed opposite Rhyla, his eyes fixed firmly on hers.

And I am very grateful it is you seeing to him Rhyla. I couldn

t think of anyone I would prefer to care for my oldest friend.

Rhyla blushed under his gaze, his praise washi
ng over her, a
ll thoughts and intentions smothered by the rapture and desire at being so close to him again. Her skin tingled as every fibre of her body yearned to go to him, to once again be enveloped in his arms and to feel his lips against hers. She could not say how long she stared at him, absorbing every feature she had so desperately missed, but the movement of Martin as he carefully turned back to face her brought reality crashing back around her.


Thank you Prince Callum,

she said softly as she returned her attention to Martin

s wounds.

Captain Martin does not seem to have any cracked ribs under all this bruising and the wounds are clean and beginning to heal. Now he is home and can rest safely I do not see the need to redress them.


That is wonderful news Rhyla,

Callum said walking around the bed to stand by her side. He placed a hand on Martin

s shoulder,

I doubt I would be here if it hadn

t been for him.


A bit of an exaggeration,

started Martin before Rhyla interrupted.


What! What do you mean?

she demanded standing up to examine Callum more closely, her hands reaching towards him.

Are you injured? You shouldn

t be walking about.

Callum took her hands in his but drew her closer rather than fending her off.

Calm yourself. I have nothing worse than a few bruises. I am fine.

He smiled so warmly at her and his hands felt so strong she was quickly soothed by his reassurances.


But what happened? Why do you say Martin saved you?

she pleaded tenderly. Fearing him hurt
, her resolve crumbled.
All she could think about was of harm that may have befallen him.


It was foolishness really. I should have been watching the forest ahead but I was thinking of other things.

The slight colour to his cheeks hinted as to what had distracted him and Rhyla

s face burned in response. He hurried on with his explanation.

Martin rode with me and saw the archer amongst the trees when I did not. He rode directly into my mount as the arrow was loosened. Martin ducked but was struck a glancing blow that left him with that cut on his head.

Callum smiled at his old friend.

So he once again saved my life.

Martin laughed softly,

But who

s keeping count. You are the Prince remember. It is my job to keep you alive, even at the cost of my own.


I know our duties as well as you but I can

t relish the idea. How could I face your father, or mine, let alone live with myself knowing you were sacrificed for my daydreaming?


Then don

t daydream when riding though a forest full of bandits.

They shared warm laughter.

I shall keep that in mind.

Their mirth faded and Callum looked back at Rhyla. He gently reached up with one hand to brush a loose stand behind her ear.

I hope you have fared well while I was gone,

he said softly, effectively excluding Martin from their conversations but not low enough that he couldn

t hear everything that was said
, and Rhyla knew it.

She blushed again and looked down at her hands, still enveloped deeply within
his. It didn

t
help form the words sh
e needed to say.
She
took the easier path.

We had a very successful stay at the Black Swan Estates.


I would like to hear all about it.

Rhyla slowly withdrew her hands and stepped back, purposefully keeping her eyes from his.

I am sure Lady Emelia would be pleased to discuss our visit with you.

She glanced quickly at Martin, who was busy examining the dirt under his nails.

I am sure there are many more patients Healer Roburt ne
eds assistance with. Please
excuse me
,
my Prince.

She hastily dropped him a curtsy before snatching up her satchel and stepping around Prince Callum.


Rhyla wait,

he said softly as he took hold of her arm, pain and confusion edging his tone.


Please Prince Callum,

she said looking up to meet his eyes. They were so close she was sure he could see the moisture brimming on her lower lids.

I know my place.
We
b
oth do. Let me be about my work.
It
is the only thing that keeps me going.

Silently he nodded.
He
lo
wered his arm and stepped aside.
The
anguish she had seen when they had last parted retur
ned tenfold at their ill-
timmed
reunion.
Their despair only emphasised
the contrast of the joyful reunions surrounding them. Rhyla did not look back as she left the room.

Hastening down the stairs she was relieved to find Healer Roburt in a room full of men. Bloody bandages w
ere visible on every occupant in
cots lined up across the room. Roburt quickly assigned her a set of patients and left her to do what she could. For all the damaged flesh, pain and suffering that surrounded her, Rhyla was thankful of the distraction.

Many hours later, long past night had fallen and the welcome home meal served and cleared away from the great hall, Rhyla washed the last of the blood from her arms. She made her way to the kitchens to find what cheese, cold meat and bread she could
beg
from Mistress Cobb before stumbling to her room and collapsing into the welcome embrace of exhausted sleep.

 

The dawn broke overcast but warm with a light breeze, promising clearing of the early showers to a fine summer

s day. Rhyla struggled to open her eyes as the soft early light filtered through her room. She was surprised to find Elsie had return
ed sometime late in the evening.
Their
room had been empty upon her return the previous evening. Elsie was still sleeping soundly as Rhyla slipped on a clean dress, stockings and her boots, rather than her courtly slippers. With the sun just rising above the outer roof tops of the wider city of Lestran
,
Rhyla made her way briefly through the kitchens on her way to the barracks.

There was already movement within the courtyard and the men still able to rise were shuffling around the barracks as she entered the lower floor. She hastily licked the last crumbs of bread from her fingers as she surveyed the scene. The frantic activity of the previous afternoon and evening had been replaced with a quiet calm. Most of the injured men still lay sleeping while a few servants and a couple of the other healers were already making
preparations for the day

s work, rolling up clean bandages or preparing salves.

Silently crossing the room she quickly assessed the injured men in her care, primarily determining if they still lived or needed any immediate assis
tance. Most still slept soundly;
one was stirring
restlessly, a
faint sheen of per
spiration on
his pale
brow;
while another was comfortably reclining against the wall as he scratched the dressing around his head. Rhyla quickly assessed the feverish young
guardsman;
his wound was a bone deep gash across his ribs. He didn

t stir as she laid her hands on his chest just above the dressing. His breath
came
a little short and fast but no more than she could understand from such a wound. His skin was flushed and warm where she felt. She determined to start with his dressing before anyone
else;
perhaps Master Roburt would have a salve to assist her. Gathering clean dressings and warm water Rhyla set to the care of her patients.

The morning passed quickly as she was absorbed in her work. The servants were passing out the noon meal for those still unable to rise when Rhyla realised she still had to see to Martin. There had been no sign of Prince Callum, or any of his family, but she feared seeing
him
again, feared if her resilience and determination could be sustained if she spent more time around him than absolutely necessary. Passing him in the halls or dinning across a crowded room
from him
enforced the boundaries between them but facing him again in the confines of a private room made the battle with her desire impossible to bear. Of course Martin would be there but he clearly knew of the situation and was no security against unguarded actions or words. But Martin was st
ill her patient, and her friend and
she had to see to him.

She made her way carefully up the stairs, pausing outside his door, listening to ensure he was alone. Knocking gently she waited for him to call out.


Come in,

he called wearily.

Pushing ope
n the door Rhyla saw him place
aside a book as he sat up a little straighte
r in bed. He looked comfortable;
the wound on his scalp a dry scab with only a small rim of redness around it.


Good morning Captain,

Rhyla said shutting the door behind her.


Morning.
Surely it is time for the noon meal already. And I thought you were calling me Martin now,

he replied with a wry smile.


I believe the meals are being brought around now, Martin. I am sure they will remember you,

she added returning his smile.

I have just come to check on your wounds.


As you can see,

he said indicating his head,

I am doing just fine.

She crossed to his bedside and sat down, looking more closely at the wound.

No dizziness or headaches?


No.


Good. The wound isn

t strong but at least it isn

t in a place you move a lot. Now I need to look at your side,

she said swiftly redirecting her attention. He wore a loose fitting shirt that covered the wound on his left side, as well as the multitude of bruises around his ribs. She indicated towards the shirt and his side.

I can

t examine you with that on.

Martin shied,

Alright
but let me.

He knew now better than to argue with her and carefully lifted it over his head. Rhyla was pleased to see the movement came easier than it had the day before, partially from the freedom from those dressings she suspected. He lent back against his pillows, clearly keen to get this over with as soon as possible.

Rhyla quickly cast an eye over his bruises again and was content that they we
re no worse than the day before;
some were even yellowing around the edges
. The deep cut to his left side
that Bryn had sewn closed, was drying out nicely al
ong most of its length.
There
was only a section, about a third of its total length that was more swollen and angry looking. Very gently she laid a finger to either side and pressed softly. A sudden intake of breath was all she needed to know it pained him. She looked up with a raised eyebrow.

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