CHAPTER 1091: FEW REMAINING DAYS

The sounds of well-made boots on polished stone echoed through the halls of Lothian Manor as Sir Gilander escorted Owain to his father’s study.

"I thought he was ill and confined to his chambers," Owain said, frowning when Gilander turned Owain away from the hallway that led to the chambers of the Lothian family and gestured toward the stairs leading to the Marquis office in one of the towers that overlooked Lothian City. "Or has he recovered enough to work again?"

The Spider Demon Venom he’d paid the Black Merchant’s assassins to use on his father should have led to a slow, inevitable decline into madness and poor health, leaving its victim trapped at the edge of death’s door for as much as a year if they were well cared for, but there was no recovery from the poison. Once Bors Lothian had been placed on bed rest, it should have been all but impossible for him to rise again.

"Lord Owain, I know you’re angry, and you have a right to be upset," Sir Gilander said, holding up his hands to ward off any more hot words from the young lord. Gilander could understand, at least a little bit, that Owain needed to vent the hurt in his heart, he’d just learned that his wife and child had died. But if he couldn’t do anything to dampen that anger before Owain confronted his father, Gilander felt like he’d be failing his duty to Lord Bors.

"However angry you are over your father’s decisions, he’s always tried to do his best for his family," Gilander said carefully. "For you, for Loman, and for Lady Ashlynn as well. But he truly isn’t well," Gilander added, thinking back to the sham training session Bors had asked him for before sending Gilander to investigate matters at the Summer Villa.

At the time, the aging knight hadn’t realized how frail his old friend and liege lord had become. He knew that Bors had pushed himself to the limits to put on a show of strength and to dispel rumors about the severity of his illness, but he hadn’t realized how wide the gap was between Bors’ current health and the image he worked to present to his people.

"Your father may not have many days left in this world, Lord Owain," Gilander said quietly after ensuring that there were no servants within earshot who might spread word of this. "He has strong moments and weak ones, but the strong moments have grown shorter and less frequent since Inquisitor Percivus had Master Hess executed for poisoning your father..."

Privately, Gilander doubted that the Master Physician had anything to do with Bors’ failing health, and the greatest proof of it was how sharply Bors’ condition declined once he stopped receiving the medicine that Master Hess had concocted for his lord. Gilander had pleaded with Bors to allow another physician to examine him, but the stubborn Marquis refused to allow a stranger to tend to him, leaving the loyal knight all but helpless in the face of his lord’s accelerating decline.

"I see," Owain said, schooling his face into a mask of concern as he fought down the desire to smile. "Have you summoned someone else to care for him? High Priest Aubin should come himself if it’s as bad as you say..."

"Your father refused the High Priest," Gilander said with a defeated look. "He’s waiting for your brother to return from Hanrahan, but he also refuses to disrupt Lord Loman’s mission. Please don’t tell your father, but I’ve already sent a flight of messenger birds to Baron Hanrahan, asking him to encourage Lord Loman to return home as quickly as he can. If your brother can help Lord Bors before the full Lothian Court is assembled, it would be for the best."

"My father still owes me an explanation for failing to protect the Summer Villa," Owian said, allowing genuine anger to bubble up in his voice. He said ’failing to protect the Summer Villa’ but what he thought was ’for summoning a monster like Percivus and siccing him on Jocelynn.’

Just the thought his woman languishing for even a day under the ’gentle’ treatment of one the Inquisition’s most ’effective’ Inquisitors was enough for his vision to turn red and his fists to clench hard enough for his fingernails to bite into the flesh of his palms, but no matter how much he wanted to carve a bloody path to her cell in the dungeons, he knew better than to ruin this moment with undue haste.

"He needs to answer for his failure," Owain said as he visibly unclenched his fists and took a deep breath to steady himself. "But I’ll remember your words, Sir Gilander. You’re a good man," he added, clapping a hand on the aging knight’s shoulder. "You’ve cared for my father for years and you know him as well as I do... Maybe better," he added with a slight smile that looked just as forced as it felt.

"You have my permission to pen orders for my brother to abandon his mission in Hanrahan so that he can tend to my father’s illness," Owain said, speaking as though he was already the Marquis, and overruling the orders his father had given. "Send a flight of birds, and men on horseback as well. They can take as many trackers as they need to find Loman in the wilderness, but they must bring him home as quickly as possible."

"Lord Owain," Gilander said, frowning as he looked at the young lord. "Your father..."

"My father can blame me for it," Owain said, giving the older knight’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You said it yourself. He may not have many days left. Loman shouldn’t be wandering the wilderness in search of demons who have scurried back into the forests after raiding our villages. He should be here, easing Father’s suffering and giving him as many days as the Holy Lord of Light will grant him," Owain said.

"Don’t steal the chance to do that from my brother, Sir Gilander, no matter what my father says," Owain said firmly. "Now go. There’s still time to loose a flight of birds, and it will take time to organize riders and trackers to find my brother in the wilderness of Hanrahan. If they’re going to leave at first light, then they should start making preparations now."

"Thank you, Lord Owain," Gilander said in a voice that was thick with emotion. Perhaps he should have done this days ago when it was clear that losing the care of Master Hess was only making Lord Bors sicker, but he’d been caught between what his heart felt he should do and his lord’s orders.

And, while Gilander hated to admit it, defying the Marquis’ orders seemed like a dangerous proposition as long as Inquisitor Percivus was lurking about, looking for signs of conspiracy against the Marquis. If Gilander wanted to keep his head off the chopping block and protect his family from the Inquisition, then he couldn’t risk defying Bors, even if he was acting in the Marquis’ best interests.

Now, he smiled with genuine relief and gratitude as Owain cut through the rules that had prevented him from doing what he knew he should before he saluted with his fist over his chest and bowed deeply to the young Lothian lord.

Once Gilander left to carry out his orders, Owain shook off the carefully constructed image of an aggrieved husband and turned to climb the stairs to his father’s office. His orders should keep Gilander busy for at least the next hour, he thought, which would give him plenty of time to settle matters with the old man without fear of being disturbed...