The Earl of Brass (The Ingenious Mechanical Devices Book 1) Read Free

slumber.
     
    ***
     
    Nearly a day later, the familiar glimpses of life returned. Eilian strained to open his eyes, but through the afternoon sun filtering in between the gaps in the drapes, he could make out the trappings of his bedroom. Tapestries of knights and dogs hunting and traversing fields of mythological beasts and embroidered forests hung on every wall. The clock on the mantle ticked beneath the solemn face of Athena. Peeking between the green curtains of the four-poster bed, he was pleased to find the room empty. Maybe it was all a dream , he thought until he realized he still ached as if he had been hit by a steam engine. Carefully, he attempted to lift his head, but his neck didn’t feel strong enough to pull it off the pillow. He turned toward the mirror near the far wall and could make out Patrick pacing in the sitting room right outside his door.
    “Pat,” he called hoarsely, scarcely audible even to himself.
    As if waiting to be summoned, the young yet white-haired butler rushed in followed by two doctors. “Sir, how are you feeling?” Patrick asked but was quickly knocked to the side by the most corpulent doctor.
    The fat one took up over half of the bedside as he pulled off the covers and began to listen with his stethoscope. Eilian wondered how the doctor was able to hold it since his sausage fingers were barely able to grasp the nickel funnel. A second physician with a wig fit for a barrister checked his pulse before pushing past the fat one to examine his eyes. To get them to leave him alone sooner, he allowed them to subject him to every test they could concoct until they were finally satisfied that he was alert.
    “Butler, bring him some tea and food,” bellowed the roundest doctor after he had finished poking and prodding him.
    Of course, Fatty wants me to eat the moment I’m conscious , he thought as they finally replaced his covers and backed away. “I’m not hungry.”
    “Lord Sorrell, you need your rest and plenty of nourishment after the ordeal you have been through,” the barrister began pompously, counting off the events on his fingers. “The crash, the fire, the surgeries—”
    “Wha—what surgeries?” Eilian stammered, suddenly feeling very alert.
    Patrick paused with his hand poised on the door. Somehow he knew this moment would not go well. He looked back at his master’s eyes and found them wide and full of the terror one only sees in a child.
    “We amputated your right arm.”
    “You did what ?” he yelled hoarsely as he struggled to sit upright.
    “We excised it.”
    “Wait, wait, I don’t understand.”
    “We cut it off.”
    “I know what excise and amputate mean, you dolt! Why would you do this?”
    Eilian grabbed the edge of the sheets and pulled them away to reveal a heavily bandaged and bloodied stump where his right arm had been. He hadn’t realized it was gone. In his mind, the fingers were still wriggling. He tried to lift it, but the movement sent sharp pains through his chest and what remained of his arm. The breath caught in his throat as Eilian ran his fingers over the end of his shortened limb. It was true. It was gone. His eyes watered as he stared at it before turning back to the group of men at his feet.
    “Why did you do this?” he choked with tears burning his lids. “Was— was there no other way?”
    “There was simply no other choice. You simply must accept that it had to be done,” the doctor replied in the same arrogant manner as before. “You have much more convalescence ahead of you.”
    The anger steadily rose up his throat, threatening to venomously spew out. Each physician was staring down at him, making him feel less than human. How dare they speak so offhandedly about his altered state. The flippant yet portentous manner in which they had dealt with him was enough to make him strike them if he had the strength.
    “Get out!” Eilian roared. “All of you, get out !”
    “Lord Sorrell, you have no right to be ill tempered