Zachary needed no more than that to charge into the tent after Enver, with Donal on his heels. He grabbed Destarion by the front of his shirt.
“What have you done?” he demanded.
“I didn’t—she—she drank the extract—too much of it! I couldn’t stop her.”
Zachary stared down at Karigan. To all appearances, she was peacefully asleep.
“Don’t you understand?” Destarion said. “Drinking too much of it could cause her to stop breathing; her heart could fail.”
Zachary shoved Destarion out of the way and knelt beside Karigan and started shaking her. “Wake up, wake up,” he pleaded.
“She grabbed the vial right out of my hand,” Destarion said, then he muttered something about her taking her own life.
Zachary would not have it. “Karigan G’ladheon, wake up. Wake up now!”
“Had to make her shut up,” Karigan murmured sleepily.
“What? Who?” He shook her harder, but she was as limp as one dead.
“We must force her to bring it up,” Destarion said.
“Firebrand, a moment,” Enver said calmly.
He took the vial from Destarion and examined it. There was still a small amount of fluid in it. “She did not drink it all,” he said. He then felt around the tent floor near her, then brought his hand to his nose for a sniff. “Some of it was spilled, as well.”
“Did she drink enough to kill her?” Zachary asked.
“I do not know this extract,” Enver replied.
They turned to Destarion, who looked relieved.
“I—I panicked,” he said. “I thought she drank it all—didn’t realized she spilled so much. No, it is not enough to kill her, but she will sleep hard and be groggy for a day or two upon awakening, with, perhaps, a headache. I do not think she took enough to stop her heart.”
Zachary stood and thrust the vial at Destarion. “I do not want you near her again. Do you understand?”
“But—but she did this to herself.”
Thunderous silence. Then, in a voice flat with anger, Zachary said, “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Enver handed Destarion his satchel, and he left the tent, escorted by Donal.
Zachary took a moment to contain his fury. Enver knelt again at Karigan’s side, listened to her breathing and peeled back her eyelid to check her eye.
“Well?” Zachary asked. “Is she going to be all right?”
Enver did not answer immediately, and the wait was interminable.
Finally, he replied, “Her body is not distressed. In fact, it may be just what she needed, and she instinctively knew it would provide her with deep sleep.”
Zachary exhaled. “That is a relief to hear.” Karigan G’ladheon was, he thought, taking years off his own life. She did look more peaceful than he had seen since his rescue. Before, even in her sleep, there had been a tautness to her. It was gone now.
“I will sit with her to ensure all is well,” Enver said.
Zachary hesitated, wanted to sit with her himself.
As though understanding, Enver said, “You’ve Captain Treman to speak with, and after, perhaps, you will sit with her for a while. In the meantime, if there is any change, I will alert you.”
“If she changes for the worse?”
“I’ve my own healing skills. Be easy, Firebrand, I feel she’ll be well, and even better when she awakens.”
“Thank you. I am reassured.”
He took one last look at Karigan. She breathed deeply and regularly, and he stepped outside the tent to find Connly and Estral waiting anxiously.
“Karigan?” Connly asked quietly.
“Enver says she’ll be fine.”
Both of them looked relieved.
“I don’t think my heart can take much more of all the trouble she gets into,” Estral said.
Zachary understood the feeling well. He saw Destarion standing apart clutching his satchel and staring at the ground. He should have maintained control over the situation, but then again, Karigan was not the usual patient. Maybe Zachary could forgive him one day, but it wouldn’t be tonight.
“Lieutenant,” he said, “please escort Destarion to the River Unit’s camp.”
“Yes, sire,” Connly replied. He bowed and set off.
Zachary was about to return to the fire to continue talking with Captain Treman and Fiori, but Estral touched his sleeve.
“One moment, if you please,” she said.
“Yes?”
She spoke quietly so no one else would hear. “Your reaction just now to Karigan—it was very strong, and it was noted by the captain and Lieutenant Rennard.”
“Yes, what of it?” he asked, sensing what she was going to say.
She lowered her voice even more. “Rennard asked if Karigan was your . . .”
“Mistress?”
She nodded.
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth—that she is not. I explained that you care deeply about all your people, those enslaved by Second Empire, as an example. I also said you worked closely with your messengers and that Captain Mapstone was your close friend.”
“And what did he think of your explanation?”
She shrugged. “We minstrels are pretty persuasive, and he seemed to accept it at face value, though he may come to his own conclusions.”
“Thank you, Lady Estral.” She would, he thought, make a fine Golden Guardian one day.