The Emery Chronicles: The White King's Woman (FIRST BOOK)

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine- The Healing

Arwen and her mother were eating their lunch when they heard the approaching footsteps and commotion. Her mother simply patted Arwen's mouth clean as if she were a babe and pointed towards their front door.

Arwen hesitantly stood and went over to the door and opened it. She saw a large group of men and horses coming into town. At first, she was confused. And then she saw the banner.

Two of the men from the group were holding up a tall green flag with a white rose emblazoned in the center. It was the sign of the king.

Arwen patted her hair and skirts down and ran toward the men, her heart beating a mile a minute.

"Pardon, sir. What is the trouble?" She asked a tall man in the front. He had shaggy blonde hair and hazel eyes creased with worry.

"Nothing to concern a child like you," he said almost irritably. Arwen bristled but held her ground.

"Is something the matter with his majesty?"

"Do you know a doctor nearby?" The man asked, ignoring her question.

"My mother and I are slightly trained in healing practices. That is the best you can hope for; the nearest doctor is ten miles from here, so if you need urgent care, you cannot waste time going to a doctor."

The man scowled then looked down at Arwen form his high seat on his horse. "How slight is your training?"

"We can handle anything except for major operations." Arwen replied proudly.

"The king was hunting a boar and the pig stabbed his majesty in his abdomen with a tusk. I don't know how major the operation is, but we cannot make it another ten miles." The man responded quietly, his worry evident in the crack in his voice and lines on his forehead.

So it was the king!

"Bring his grace into our home; we'll have a look," Arwen lead the way to the front door of their home and allowed the man she had been talking to and four other men carrying a litter into the house; the others in the retinue waited outside. Arwen knew the king was in the covered litter.

"Hello, sir. I am Bianca Whitewing, lady of this house." Arwen's mother said as she came into the entrance foyer.

"I am Sir Finnian McWhitten, advisor of the king. Your daughter said you could heal an injury inflicted upon his majesty from a hunt?"

"I am so sorry. I have grown old in the years gone by and my eyes are not as they used to be. I will not be able to see what is wrong." Bianca replied. Arwen looked at her in confusion. That was lie; Bianca was perfectly healthy.

"Damn," Sir Finnian cursed under his breath. "Then we'll have to continue on to the doctor ten miles from here."

"No, sir! Do not waste your precious time when our king is in danger. I may not be able to heal him properly, but my daughter, Arwen, is just as skilled as I am. She can heal his majesty."

"She is just a child," Sir Finnian protested. Arwen glared and stood up straight.

"My mother is right; I can heal his majesty. I am your only choice right now," she told the advisor unkindly. The man looked her up and down, but even he knew it was useless to argue.

"Please hurry, the injury seemed severe." He finally replied.

Arwen quickly led the four men carrying the litter into the downstairs guest room. There, they placed the litter on the ground and uncovered it.

Arwen gasped. There was blood everywhere and the wound in the king's abdomen still kept on bleeding. But that's not why she was struck silent.

Even unconscious from all the pain, and even though half his body was covered in blood, the White King was the most handsome man Arwen had ever seen. His hair was a tousled black mess, his lips full and pink, his arms thick and bulging under his shirtsleeves. Even though he was lying down, she could tell he was tall and manly, with a broad chest and perfectly chiseled figure.

The men slowly and carefully picked the king up and placed him onto the bed. Then, they left, leaving Arwen and the White King alone, for Arwen to fix him.

She set to work. First, she ran to the pantry and grabbed everything she could find and everything she thought she would need. She went back to the room and set her supplies out in front of her on the floor as she kneeled by the king's side. First, she mixed some poppy seeds into a glass of warm milk and tried to help the king drink it. He was already pretty much unconscious, but the poppy milk would help him go into a deep sleep and ease his pain.

Arwen took one last lingering look at the king's face after she finished dripping the milk in between his lips, and then she turned her gaze to his abdomen. His expensively tailored shirt and vest were soaked through with his blood. Arwen carefully unbuttoned the vest and shook it off of him, lifting him slightly up off the bed so she could completely remove it.

She laid him back down onto the bed and took a deep breath. Slowly, she unbuttoned his blouse. Every time she popped another button, a little more of his chest was visible. She finally reached the last button and took his blouse off as well, leaving him only in his trousers and boots.

Even though it was marred with the bloody wound, his chest was still so beautiful. Arwen had never seen a man's chest before, but she had never imagined it would look like the king's. His chest was chiseled like a statue, tight, toned, and so masculine.

Arwen finally regained her composure and began to tend to the king's wound in his lower right abdomen. First, she poured a cup of the purest alcohol on it. The alcohol was mixed with rainwater and salt for purification, but it was still a very strong liquor. She winced as she poured it, knowing it was burning like Hell, but the king didn't make a sound as he lay there, unmoving. When she had cleaned it enough to see the wound without it bleeding out, Arwen saw that the wound was deeper than she had originally thought. She quickly unscrewed the top of a little vial containing thread made out of pure silver. She had thinned out the silver herself, until it was like sewing thread.

She used the silver thread to begin sewing all the layers of muscle and skin back together. The silver will help heal the wound and prevent infection and inflammation.

She sat sewing his wound closed for for twenty minutes, taking care with each layer of the king. Finally, she closed the last layer of skin. The wound was all closed up, and only the thin line that Arwen had stitched was visible. She spread a balm made from jasper herb over the stitches, carefully coating the stitches with the clear jelly-like substance. The balm wasn't just made from jasper for healing; it was also infused with witch-hazel. The special hazel plant will make the jasper's healing powers stronger.

Lastly, Arwen wrapped feverfew leaves on top of and around the stitches. The feverfew will help cleanse the wound. Once she was done wrapping, Arwen poured some more poppy milk in between the king's lips and then cleared up her supplies.

Before she left the room, Arwen placed three gems on the pillow next to the king's head. First, was a jade stone, to bring peace, calm, and mental clarity to the king. Next was a red jasper gem, so the king would become stable again. And lastly, Arwen placed a citrine crystal by the king's head, for activity, energy, and fitness, so the king will wake up healthy once again. Arwen put the king's soiled shirt and vest to one side of the room and also, with some difficulty, changed the bed sheets under the king, so everything was fresh and clean. She covered him in a newly washed, thick fur blanket and then gathered her supplies to leave.

Arwen left the bedroom, sneaking one last look at the beautiful sleeping king. His face wasn't red from fever anymore, and there wasn't blood pooled around him anymore. He looked calm and peaceful, as if he were merely taking a midday nap, dreaming sweet dreams. She smiled at the thought, and then left.

Arwen put her supplies away back in the pantry and then went into her mother's privy chambers, where Bianca and Sir Finnian were taking their tea.

The second Arwen entered the room, Sir Finnian stood up from his seat by the fire, spilling some of his tea on the carpet. Bianca just stared at Arwen, waiting to hear the news.

"How is his grace?" Sir Finnian asked hurriedly.

"I cleaned and covered the wound. His fever is down, and the wound no longer bleeds. He will be fine after some rest."

"Some rest? How much is some?"

"Could be hours, could be days." Arwen replied to the advisor coolly.

"I should have the men prepare a litter to carry the king back to the castle," Sir Finnian said.

"No!" Arwen said, louder than she had intended. Finnian looked at her crossly, daring her to speak. Arwen was embarrassed and scared, but one look at her mother's calm composure calmed her down as well. Arwen stood up straight and said, "His grace needs rest. He cannot be moved, at least not until he awakens, he must stay put. My mother and I will be much obliged to have the king here."

Arwen could tell Sir Finnian wanted to object, but he couldn't. The most important thing was the king's safety and health, and he could only have that here.

"Where can my men stay?" Finnian asked Bianca. Arwen's mother flickered a glance at her, and Arwen got the hint.

"You can stay in our other guest room, and our servants will move out to the barn so the rest of your men can stay in the servants quarters," Arwen replied in place of her mother.

"Very well," Sir Finnian said, shrugging past Arwen on his way out the door. When he was gone, Arwen turned to see her mother smiling at her proudly.

"Well done. Now we wait for the king to awaken."

~