Read Online Return of the Warrior by Kinley MacGregor - Free Book Online Page B

you, I’m amazed you can even stand.”
    It was difficult. Even so, Christian started for the small alm’s door. After he stumbled again, Phantom grabbed him and offered him his shoulder.
    “Damn your pride, Christian. You’re about to pass out. No one, least of all me, will think less of you for accepting aid.”
    Christian reluctantly leaned against Phantom and allowed himself to be helped to the door. He couldn’t tell who answered Phantom’s knock. By the time they had the door opened, everything went black.
    Phantom caught Christian against him as he passed out. Groaning, he hefted him up into his arms. “You would have to be wearing armor, you bastard, wouldn’t you?” he growled.
    The priest gave him a harsh stare.
    Curling his lip, Phantom glared back. He couldn’t care less what the monk thought of him. For that matter, he couldn’t care less what anyone thought of him.
    “Phantom?”
    He turned his head at the familiar voice that approached them from the north. “Thomas?”
    “Aye,” the old man said as he came forward wearing the brown homespun and tonsure of a monk. “I was hoping when I heard the bell that itwas Christian. Bring him this way. I already have quarter for him.”
    Grateful, Phantom followed him to the monk’s dormitory. The building was clean but sparse, he noticed, as they walked down the hallway toward a small room.
    Phantom grimaced at the plain furnishings that were designed for practicality and not comfort. But at least he could finally put down the overgrown knight who weighed as much as his horse.
    Thomas pulled back the rough cover on the inhospitable-looking cot. Phantom laid Christian down carefully before he pulled the black robe off him to expose the suit of chain mail beneath. He quickly removed the sword and sheath.
    “He’s been badly injured,” he told Thomas. “Is there a monk here who can tend him?”
    “Aye. Brother Bernard. I’ll get him and let the queen know that Christian has made it.”
    Phantom nodded while he started unlacing the mail pieces. He could see the bright red stains where the blood was seeping between the links, not to mention several gashes in the metal where weapons had cut through it. There were quite a few injuries, and in truth he was amazed Christian had gone so long before he passed out.
    Then again, pain wasn’t anything new to either of them.
    He pulled the mail hauberk and quilted aketon off, then paused as he saw the old scars thatmarked Christian’s right shoulder. Unbidden, his memories surged.
    Instead of the monastery where they were currently, he saw the old mold-covered prison walls. Smelled the stench of decay and death. Heard the echoing screams of pain and whispered prayers of the hopeless and dying. He could even feel again the heat of the fever that had ravished his body.
    “Here, Phantom,” the boy Christian had said as he offered him a cup of rare bitter water to drink.
    The sight of it had terrified him. To be caught with unrationed water meant a severe beating, which was what had given Phantom his current fever. “Where did…?”
    “Shhh, fear not. Just drink. You need it for your fever.”
    Phantom had barely consumed it before their guard found them.
    Christian immediately took the cup and pretended that he was the one drinking from it.
    “Thief!” It was one of the very few Arabic words that Phantom knew at the time. The guard grabbed the cup and then commenced to beating Christian for it.
    Christian took the blows in silence until Phantom tried to tell the guard that the water was his.
    The guard paused and asked Christian something that Phantom didn’t understand. Christian answered in Arabic and then was beaten even more.
    Phantom wanted to stop it, but knew from experience that the guard would only beat Christian longer for Phantom’s interference.
    When it was over, Christian crawled back to his side. His lip was split, his eye swelling. “Here,” he said, his hand trembling as he gave Phantom a