The Vagrant King

Chapter 8

It took quite awhile to rouse Julian after he had fainted. When Regulus caught Julian to keep him from hitting the ground, he called for guards and the castle physician. When the castle physician finally arrived with his salves and tonics, Julian had just stirred.

"Julian, are you alright?" Regulus said, crouching down next to Julian. He brushed Julian's blonde hair back from his forehead.

All of the color had drained from Julian's face. He stared uncomprehendingly at Regulus and blinked several times. "Fine," He mumbled, propping himself up with a hand on the floor. "Rather dizzy."

"He's ill. I think he has a fever." Regulus said as he pressed a hand to Julian's cheek, panic creeping into his voice. "Do something."

Percy, the grizzled castle physician whose hunched back and grey beard belied his old age, rushed forward. "He's weak." Percy said. "I'll tend to him and he'll be fine. Try to stand, Julian."

Julian swallowed, glancing at Regulus. "I feel rather dizzy." He repeated, hoping Regulus would just let him sleep on the floor here. All he wanted was to return to sleep.

"Hold on," Regulus muttered, slipping his arms under Julian's legs and back. He stood and lifted Julian, cradling the lad to his chest. He carried Julian out of the little, windowless room.

It was late in the day, so there were few servants milling around. They flinched when they caught sight of Regulus, as they always did. Regulus' violent temper was known and his cruelty was whispered about in the servants' circles. The servants stole glances at the rebel gathered like a bride in Regulus' arms.

Down the corridor and up several flights of stairs, with the old man physician tailing them, Regulus carried Julian to his new bedchambers. Regulus had ordered the preparation of these new chambers soon after he decided Julian would be his.

Julian rested his head against Regulus' chest. His eyes fluttered shut again. Something deep within Regulus' chest stirred happily.

~

Julian remembered little about the days following his imprisonment in the windowless room. An old man sat at his bedside, holding a hand to his forehead, speaking in low voice to someone else in the room, and spooning stew into his mouth.

There was no more deprivation. If Julian asked for stew, he received hearty rabbit stew. If he asked for bread, he received bread. If he asked for the curtains to be opened so he could see the morning sun, the curtains were opened.

At night, Regulus sat at his bedside and spoke to him. Regulus spoke about his day, how the roses bloomed in the garden, how he had hunted for pheasant in the afternoon. When Julian asked, Regulus read aloud from whatever book he was reading that day.

It was mid-afternoon now, and Julian was sweating under the many layers of furs and blankets. His fever had broke overnight, and he was no longer shivering and shaking. Still, he did not want to emerge from the dark world under the blankets. King Regulus might be there, sitting at his bedside and ready to inflict another torture on Julian.

Julian pulled the furs down just far enough for a dash of light to invade his darkness. He peered at the painted ceiling. It was a beautiful fresco of a forest with ducks, and deer, and nymphs by a bubbling creek Julian had lived in the woods for many years but he had never once seen a nymph.

Julian rolled over and inhaled the scent of fresh bread and cooked ham. He pushed back the blankets and sat up, reaching for the wooden tray. He placed it on his lap.

"I am glad to see you are awake again," A kind voice said from the corner of the room.

Julian froze, his spoon in his hand as he was about to scoop the fruit into his mouth. The old man castle healer, Percy, moved forward into Julian's sight.