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He lay gasping, trying to lift the sword, barely able to draw breath now.
She stepped nearer. "The time has come, Artorius, to return Caliburn to my hand. You will not be needing it any longer."
She stooped to pluck the blade from his hands—
And he moved, convulsively. The sword lurched upward, too fast to avoid. "Take it back, then!" he hissed. "I return it freely!"
The shock of pain was so intense, she couldn't even draw breath to scream. The blade had rammed deep into her belly. She clutched at it. Tried to pluck it loose. He shoved hard, lunging in one final spasm of strength. The blade twisted inside her vitals. Her scream burst loose this time, smoking hot through her womb. Shouts and ru
He's killed me! The thought ran like icewater through her mind. The brainless little bastard's killed me...
Then the darkness closed down like the waters of an icy lake over her head, until all that remained was the feel of that smoking sword slipping from her dying hand.
Morgana was dancing, skirts whirling as Ancelotis laughingly drew her to join the merrymakers, when the meeting hall door crashed open.
"Morgana!" A wild-eyed soldier stood in the doorway. "Where's Queen Morgana?"
She whirled, fright shocking her heart into sudden stillness. "Here," she gasped. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"It's Artorius! He's collapsed! Says he's been poisoned!"
Shock washed through her whole body. Then she was ru
"She was Marguase's... chosen pupil," he croaked, voice badly slurred. "No one knew it. Killed Emrys Myrddin... killed him at Glaste
"Search the bitch!" Morgana snapped at Ancelotis, over one shoulder. "See if she's still carrying the stuff. She must have dropped it into the wine. And fetch her potions and herbs, I must see what's there!" She didn't dare voice aloud the half wish, half prayer that Covia
Medraut snatched up a wooden cup from Artorius' table and handed it over, while Ancelotis ran from the room, bellowing orders to fetch the poisoner's herb satchel. Morgana poured a bit of the stuff into the cup, tilted it to the light to see more clearly its color, how it smelled, how it clung to the sides of the cup. A feeling of utter dread turned her blood cold when she recognized it.
"Oh, dear God, yes, I know what this is. 'Tis rare. The bitch must have traded for it all the way to Constantinople. My satchel, Medraut."
She raked through the packets and bottles with shaking hands. "Bring me another cup and a stack of bowls. And a cauldron of boiling water. Burn that." She indicated the cup, now contaminated with Covia
Ancelotis returned with Covia
Have him eat crushed charcoal to absorb what's still in his stomach, then induce vomiting, so he'll bring up whatever's left of it with the charcoal. And force liquids, try to flush his blood and kidneys with water, to dilute the poison he's already absorbed.
Aye! Morgana gasped, then said aloud, "Ancelotis, send someone to fetch charcoal. Make him eat it, crushed finely. Then pour this," she handed over a bottle of wormwood from her own supplies, "down his throat until he vomits."
Someone ran from the room, feet slapping against the wet ground. Mere seconds later, a girl's voice, breathless from ru
It was Keelin, eyes wide and distressed, face streaked with tears, carrying a basket piled high with charcoal and ash.
"Aye, crush the charcoal and get a good double handful down him."
Keelin tipped the basket onto the floor for Medraut to pulverize. Morgana left them to their work as she continued her search of Covia
What is it? Bre
Echoing her hidden guest, Ancelotis asked tersely, "What is it?"
"An herb as rare as the poison, itself. Devil's Bane, the Nine Ladies called it, for it undoes the devil's work when a man has swallowed poison of this kind. Covia
A soldier arrived with a heavy iron kettle. Steaming water slopped over the sides. He'd brought a silver goblet, as well, carried tucked under one arm, and had dropped several bowls into the kettle to carry them more easily.
"Set it there, quickly, man!"
Morgana closed her eyes for a moment, praying, then set to work. She scooped out the bowls, draining most of them, then carefully measured the water remaining in the last one. Morgana shook the precious leaves out into her palm, gauging the amount needed against available supply and Artorius' body weight and mass. There would be enough for three full-strength doses, and perhaps two second and third doses steeped from each of those three, but no more. It shook her to realize she might well hold the last supply of this wondrous drug anywhere in the world. She looked into Artorius' eyes, sunken in a face the color of the grey rainclouds overhead, and prayed it was enough.
"Give him the wormwood," she said tersely as she dropped the first batch of leaves into the steaming water. A sharp, aromatic fragrance rose from the bowl. Artorius made a choking, gagging sound as Ancelotis fed him the emetic, then forcible retching filled the room. Keelin hasily slid a bucket under his face and held his head gently while he vomited. Ancelotis poured more wormwood down him while the leaves bled their lifesaving medicine into the hot water, turning it dark. More vomiting ensued. Morgana checked Artorius' pulse again and carefully refrained from biting her lips.
Not good, Bre
But better than it was before he swallowed the charcoal and wormwood, Morgana retorted. Aloud, she added, "That's good, that should be enough, I think." She checked the contents of the bucket and nodded sharply. "Calm his stomach with a few sips of water, now. He must, at all cost, hold down this medicine. Should he throw it up, again, all is lost."
It was Keelin who got the water down him, murmuring soothingly when Artorius choked and swallowed convulsively. It was Keelin who gripped his hand and wiped sweat and sour vomit from his face. Medraut hauled away the noxious bucket, while Ancelotis crouched to one side, waiting with pain etched into his face. The moment Morgana deemed it safe to try, she poured the medicine into the silver goblet and held it to Artorius' lips, herself.