But I don't stop him fromreading.
* * *
Amedic standsimpassively at my feet. He checked me over moments ago, his facegrim.
"This one," the medic says and points down at me. A woman on a horse comes into focus. She's blurry, but I can tell she's beautiful with the palest skin and ruby lips. She'll be the last thing I see in this world. God has taken pity on a dying knight to give him this last vision ofbeauty.
She slips off the horse and kneels down besideme.
"Will hedie?"
"Yes," the medic says. "That's what you wanted, my Lady? The ones not yet dead, but who will notsurvive?"
"Yes," she says. "Only those. I relieve them of their pain as they lie dying. It is the oath of my holy order. The ones who are dead are already with the Lord. The ones who will survive do not needme."
The truth spoken so clearly brings tears to my eyes despite my resolve to die with honor. The medic makes the sign of the cross and helps her roll me over onto my side and the pain takes my breath away. I groan and grit my teeth, squeezing my eyesshut.
Please Godstop...
"This is one of the Comte's loyal vassals," she says as she rolls me onto my back once more. "Bring him to mytent."
"If he's the Comte's, shouldn't he be taken to the city?" the medic asks, wiping his hands on histunic.
"No." Her voice is firm. She takes the medic's chin in her hand, staring into his eyes. "Take him to my tent." The medic stares back, open-mouthed, as ifbewitched.
"I'll take him to your tent," he says, his voiceflat.
She turns away, re-mounting her horse, and ridesoff.
The two ragged young men set to work, unrolling a pallet, struggling to lift me onto it and every movement brings another wave of pain. All I want is for them to end my life quickly but that prayer goes unanswered like all theothers.
* * *
Iwake,lying on a table, my teethchattering.
"Why aren't you dead, beautiful Sir Knight?" she whispers. "Your wounds would kill anyman."
I hiss in pain as she removes my chainmail hauberk and undershirt. Finally, she lays her hand over my brow, and in a moment, a sense of bliss spreads throughme.
"Beautiful Julien," the blonde woman whispers, her face close to mine, her lips beside my ear, brushing my cheek. "Yes, I know who you are, Sir Knight. I've been watching you for a while. Should I be merciful and let you die or should I heal you and take you for my own? Do you want todie?"
"No," I gasp, for I don't believe inheaven.
She leans down and kisses my lips. "Then I'll heal you." She bites her own wrist, drawing blood with sharp white teeth, and places the wound over mymouth.
"Drink," she says, holding it against my lips, pinching my nose, forcing me to swallow or suffocate. I struggle, horrified at what she does, but she's so strong. "Drink and receive eternallife."
I swallow – my body forces me and after the first mouthful, an incredible need fills me and I must drink. I grab her wrist, and suck, for the blood is so sweet. And then darkness closes in oncemore.
An incredible headache pounds in my temples when I next awaken. The bright sun beaming in from the window beside the bed makes my eyes burn and so I throw a hand over my face and take an accounting of my body. I'm naked beneath a thick coverlet and my body feels as if I've just come back frombattle.
Which, of course, I have – outside Carcassonne. I remember now. How have I come to this place? And more importantly, where am I? The rooms areunfamiliar.
Cradling my aching head, I sit up on one elbow and glance around. A fire blazes in the hearth, and beside it sits a woman with very pale skin and, due to some trick of lighting, with eyes that seemed to glow red in the firelight. A very beautiful woman with waist-length flaxen hair. She wears a thin nightdress and I can see the hint of a rosy nipple through themuslin.
"I remember you, but my apologies, my Lady. I can't place yourname."
"You don't know me, but I know you, Sir Julien de Cernay, Knight Defender of the Comte de Toulouse," she says and crosses the floor to stand in the shadows at the foot of the bed. "Bastard son of Vicomte de Clarmont, identical twin of Michel, the very new Bishop of Carcassonne. You're finally awake. How do youfeel?"