Rhys Returns to Holdfast with AlacrityIndex | HomePage | GameLogs | HoldfastGameLogs | Rhys Returns To Holdfast With Alacrity The cloth with its precious cargo tucked safely into his robes, Rhys made his way back to Holdfast as quickly as he could, running when the path allowed it. He waved to the guard at the gate as he ran through and headed straight for the Tower. He took the stairs two at a time and arrived flushed and out-of-breath to the room where Sewell rested. He crossed to his uncle immediately. Sewell was lying back in his bed. His eyes were half closed; his breath came wheezing from his chest. "Uncle!" Rhys said urgently, taking the old man's hand. He looked around surreptitiously, then lowered his voice. "I have the sap." The old man tried to smile at him, and Rhys again heard the wheezing breaths. He knew what it was that afflicted his uncle - the disease that was sometimes called 'the old man's friend' * for its gentle filling of the lungs with fluid would many times bring a peaceful death. This was not a sound at all that Rhys liked. "Uncle, what form for the sap?" he asked urgently. "Do you mix it with something, or take it straight?" He reached into his robes and pulled out the white cloth. "Ro ... raw," croaked Sewell. He raised his withered hands, as though for a cup. "Here, let me help," Rhys said softly as he procured a flat stick from somewhere in his robes. He scraped off the sap from each leaf and gently fed it to his uncle. Sewell lapped at it with his withered mouth. A couple of tastes, no more than that. Then a hesitation ... and then a third. "That should do it," he whispered. "Thannk 'ee, ny boy." Then he closed his eyes and sank back on his pillows. Already his breathing seemed easier. Rhys stared. Very intrigued, he decided to stay at Sewell's side for the while and take notes as to how quickly the sap reversed his uncle's condition. That first change seemed destined to be repeated only slowly, however. There were changes for the better, but of such an infinitesimal nature that only a trained eye would have noted them. While Rhys was sitting and observing, he heard the sound of a soft step approaching. "How does he now?" asked Edlyn quietly. He looked up. "Better." Rhys turned a critical eye on the young girl. "And how are you?" "I'm well enough," she replied. But she looked a different fgirl from that who had been so busty preparing the castle for guests a few short days before. Now her face was wan and palem all apart from her eyes, which were reddened - doubtless with tears shed during the long nights - or perhaps just with watching and waiting; she was now the main nurse for not only her mother, but also her stepfather ... and the younger children depnded on her too. "If you have a moment, Maester, perhaps you could come to my mother and Lord Hardy." Rhys flushed with guilt--he knew that he'd put other things in priority this day. "Let's go see them both now." He set aside his notes and picked up his satchel, then turned to follow Edlyn out. "How is your ankle?" he asked. She smiled ruefully. "Well, it probably wasn't the best of ideas to try and run away on it," she admitted. "It hurts - but I kept telling myself that there are now so many people with more to bear ... To tell you the truth, Maester Rhys, that doesn't ease the pain very much. But I feel better for telling myself." He could see that she was limping slightly as she led him along the corridors. "Who do you wish to see first?" she asked. "You, I think," Rhys replied, frowning. "Sit in the chair right there and let me look at you. It'll only take a moment." Not wanting to listen to any protests, Rhys firmly guided Edlyn to the nearest place to sit and examined her ankle. The swelling had returned, but Rhys was gratified to see there was no dark bruising. "You're walking too much on it. Promise me after we see your parents that you'll sit down and prop it up for a few hours." "All right," she said - and he could hear the gratitude in her voice at being given permission to rest. She even managed a slightly coquettish Edlyn smile at him. "So, Maester, who do you want to see *second*?" "Lord Hardy," Rhys replied, smiling gently back, though his eyes were taking in her wan appearance. He helped her back up and they continued their trek to Lord Hardy's rooms. "Have you been taking care of Lord and Lady Hardy _and_ your younger siblings? She shot him another 'duh' look. "Well, yes," she said. "Who else is there? I mean, Septa and the old women are good as nurses and nursemaids, but someone has to organise everything, Especially as there's no steward now since he ran away from Kenrith. But the Head Cook has been coming to me for orders every morning, so at least we've eaten." She smiled a little pallidly at Rhys. "It's fortunate Mama's lessons included how to hold household in a House that was penny pinched. It is a lesson she's always regretted not learning before she was married to my true father, for he had no money at all." Kenrith's steps, not so heavy as Godwyn's perhaps, heralded his approach. Apparently he'd caught the last of what Edlyn had said, for his first words on coming into sight were "And it was well she did..." followed by a perhaps-startling smile and sad eyes, for he wasn't fully behind his lordface at the nonce. Rhys narrowed his eyes slightly, studying Kenrith for a second before returning the smile. "We are just on our way to visit your father. Would you like to join us?" Kenrith's self-effacing smile slowly left his face and his eyes hardened as he nodded. |
