The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

for Darville.

Chapter 31
     
    A warmly furred, wet muzzle pushed at Brevelan’s hand. She scratched his ears.
    “Yes, Puppy, I know it’s time to get up,” she murmured. Her eyes were so heavy it couldn’t possibly be morning yet. She lifted reluctant eyelids. Pain slashed through her head from the light of a single candle. Memory followed the pain with equal ferocity. She and Darville weren’t back in her safe clearing anymore.
    “Where are we?” She curled into a tight ball, burying her painful head in her arms.
    No verbal answer, only Darville nudging her. She opened her right eye, the one that didn’t hurt as much as the other. Threadbare tapestries, which had once been rich, covered the walls of a very large room. A real candle lit the space beside the bed, while a gentle fire in a fireplace, not a central hearth, added warmth as well as cheery light. Sturdy shutters covered long narrow windows barring the cold and rain from these opulent furnishings.
    Cautiously she stretched to explore the bed where she rested. It was too wide and comfortable. More than wide enough to accommodate herself and two others who had grown used to sleeping rough, drawing warmth from each other. They’d never get used to these luxurious surroundings designed for the wealthy and privileged who lived in the capital. Was she in the palace?
    Somehow she doubted that. Darville was still a wolf and Jaylor was not present. She suspected they had been brought to the University. But everything was bigger, richer than Jaylor had described his meager journeyman’s quarters.
    “Are you all right?” She petted Darville with questing fingers. She sought injuries, despite the growing pain in her head with each movement, each thought.
    For answer, she received a sloppy kiss across her hand and cheek. He took her wrist gently into his mouth in loving greeting. She returned the gesture with a scratch behind his ears. The wolf took her response as permission to climb into the high bed with her. Once beside her he urged her into quiet repose again. Mica roused from a sleeping ball at her feet and scooted to her other side.
    As if they were back in her own clearing she nestled between them, drawing comfort from their nearness and protective concern. She was no longer embarrassed that her beloved wolf was really her cherished prince. Jaylor must return soon and restore him to his natural form. Then all would be well. Jaylor would see to that.
    She fell into a light doze.
    A sound roused her. Men’s voices spoke softly on the other side of the door. Her fingers curled into Darville’s fur. Her mind groped for the identity of the men. A familiar step on the floor of the outer room. Then the door was pushed open a crack.
    “Dear heart, I’ve brought the healer. He’ll take away your pain.” Jaylor smoothed her brow with the gentlest of hands.
    Deep inside herself she found a small soothing tune. She tried to hum it, but her head hurt too much. Jaylor’s hand continued to caress her forehead. She allowed his love to fill her and chase out the other, hurtful memory of men with stones and torches, the painful rejection by her mother and her da.
    The tune followed his love into her mind.
    “The swelling has stopped. But the bruise is painful.” Jaylor informed the other man.
    Brevelan peered at the small man who wore the robes of a master magician. Jaylor, still in his travel clothes of trews and tunic over a homespun shirt, appeared so much more wholesome and masculine than the little man who scuttled like a beetle toward her. She cringed away from his barely washed hand. Dirt and something that smelled of blood clung to his broken fingernails.
    She clung to Jaylor’s hand. The bond between them healed her more than the potions and powders the healer pulled from a pouch at his overfed waist ever could.
    The smell of meat on an unwashed body assaulted her senses when the healer reached to touch her wound. She felt the death of the animal the man had eaten for his supper. Had he killed it himself?
    Then the man’s own emotions engulfed her, pressing her back into the bed like the walls of a dungeon. Precious air became scarce. She didn’t need to hear his thoughts to know his intent.
    Desperately she tugged at Jaylor’s hand until he looked directly into her eyes. She had to communicate to him the man’s evil intent.
    “Grrrowwwwl.” Darville’s teeth threatened the man’s approach. He must have understood her silent