The Maiden and the Mercenary
Page 24
‘Because it was sealed? That only encouraged me.’
More of a smile. ‘No, because that isn’t what I told my brother.’
Games! Louve cursed.
Balthus laughed, choked, and Louve grabbed the cup on the table, filled it with watered wine and brought it to Balthus’s lips until he eased his head on the pillow.
‘I understand the healers have been giving you all they can for pain,’ Louve said. ‘I’d hoped you would have slept longer.’
‘The pain is just a bit more...’ Balthus faded. ‘This cursed strap and quilt won’t let me see. My hand is gone, isn’t it?’
‘Don’t force it,’ Louve said. ‘Your arm’s been secured to the post so you wouldn’t accidentally damage it in your sleep.’
‘Well, now that you’re here—’ Balthus pointed his chin to the strap ‘—release me.’
‘You didn’t tell me how bad it was,’ Louve said. ‘We didn’t get to it in time.’
‘We’ve been hiding lots of deeds from each other,’ Balthus said, fighting the bindings that held his arm to the bed.
‘Stop trying to move your arm, and this is different!’ Louve said. ‘You should have seen a healer.’
‘It sounds...’ Balthus said. ‘You care?’
Louve took two breaths; he’d had enough of Warstones.
‘I had seen a healer,’ Balthus said, his voice gruff. ‘At my family home. I continued to apply the clean linens and poultice given to me. There wasn’t any one in Troyes.’
Because they’d barely arrived in Troyes when Balthus and he had been sent out again. ‘Ian has one.’
‘You know I couldn’t see Ian’s healer, at least not while Ian...’ Balthus swallowed. ‘It was bad when mother first burned it, and it seemed to heal. I must have damaged it again between Troyes and now, and her breaking the—I need to see it.’
Louve wanted to fight the order, but if he had been in Balthus’s position, he would have demanded the same. He unlashed the arm and cradled it in both his hands. ‘It’ll look worse than... Ian’s dagger hit the same arm, which is why the wrapping is excessive. But though you fainted, that cut was superficial.’
‘I do not faint,’ Balthus bit out.
Louve attempted to jest, but his words were flat. He knew why—there was one point he wanted Balthus to understand.
‘It was my sword.’ Louve faced Balthus and waited for the accusations and hatred he deserved. He had taken moments to sharpen and clean his weapon of any fragments. The strike cut clean and the healer immediately responded. Still, he was the one who did the deed.
Balthus’s expression didn’t change. ‘Stop being a coward and lift it.’
Huffing out a breath, Louve brought the left arm into Balthus’s field of vision. It was wrapped in fresh linens to his shoulder. Blood seeped in places and the poultice caused brown stains, but there was no mistaking that his limb ended too abruptly. That—
‘You, too?’ Balthus said.
Balthus was looking over his shoulder. Louve turned and saw Bied leaning against the door, tears streaming down her face.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, moving into the room, and wiping her cheeks. Her hair was unbound, her gown hastily pulled over her chemise...her feet were bare. She’d gotten little sleep since Ian was buried, but she was more beautiful now than ever.
Louve held his arm as Balthus slowly lowered his gaze. The youngest Warstone’s body shuddered as if with a blow. There were no words of comfort. He could tell Balthus how fortunate he’d only lost the hand above the wrist, and not the entire arm, but it didn’t matter.
‘I shouldn’t have hit you that way,’ Bied said.
‘What?’ Balthus said, his breaths mere pants as he rotated the amputated limb in Louve’s hold.
‘I shoved you and, when you fell, your hand slammed, and the impact made it worse.’
Balthus lowered his arm, his gaze taking in Louve, then Bied.
‘Are you both blaming yourselves for this?’ Balthus’s eyes threaded with bewilderment. ‘I knew I was going to lose it, though I stubbornly attempted to take care. My mother broke that finger just before Ian’s attack. I could feel something then... I was standing there conversing with my brother, knowing our mother’s action had completed the damage. I couldn’t react quickly enough.’
‘Still—’ she said.
‘You couldn’t have pushed me more gently out of harm’s way.’
Bied’s brows rose. ‘I wish I could have done something.’
‘You did,’ Balthus said. ‘Both of you saved my life.’
‘When you’re well, I expect your rage,’ Louve said.
‘Why? Because of my hand, or because you threw the dagger that killed my brother? I saw you throw—I saw what Ian did. This fighting begins and ends with my parents. And that is all.’ Balthus’s eyes shone for just a moment before he blinked. ‘When I am well, I expect to best you in training and gloat.’
Balthus’s words eased some of the tightness in Louve’s chest. So many factors, but he never meant it to end the way it did. ‘For that coward comment, I’ll race you on horseback.’
Balthus eyed him. ‘Since I’ve known you, no one has beaten you in a race. You’d purposefully set up a one-handed man?’
Louve merely raised one brow. ‘Afraid?’
Balthus laughed, coughed and Louve grabbed the cup for him to take a drink.
Bied took a step and laid her palm on Balthus’s forehead. ‘You still have a fever. I’ll send the healer in to tend to your needs before you rest.’
‘I feel as though I have been resting—how long?’
‘Eight days. Sometimes you’d wake, but wouldn’t stay that way for long,’ Louve said.
Days where he and Bied had reached some compromise where they touched more and talked less. She hadn’t told him she loved him, though he swore he felt caring in her touch, in their soft words. But what did he know? No woman had ever loved him and perhaps this one never would as well.
Could he blame her? He had coin, but no home. He had ways of making more coin, of obtaining a home, but the life of a mercenary would take him far away from any family life. She had a family she needed to care for and...there was just too much danger with no certainty to protect her. He might tell her he loved her, because he did, and after what he’d witnessed in that Hall he wanted to tell her every day for all the days they had left, but he could never demand she do the same.
Why would he want her to suffer the pain he did?
‘You need to know we’ve had all the guards on shorter rotations to stay alert and I sent a message to Reynold—he’ll be here soon,’ Louve said.
‘He can’t...’ Balthus said. ‘He can’t come here.’
Louve scoffed. ‘Reynold will do what he wants, as you well know.’
‘But our parents are travelling—there will be traps everywhere.’ Balthus inhaled sharply. ‘Do they know Ian is gone?’
‘The first messenger I sent out with the missive didn’t arrive. His horse wandered back.’ Louve bared his teeth. ‘They know. I have sent out many of your men since then to track your family. They won’t surprise me like that again.’
‘My men?’ Balthus said.
‘This fortress is no longer Ian’s.’
Balthus clenched his eyes.
‘Do you need some tisane?’ Bied said.
‘Two brothers gone,’ Balthus whispered.
Bied looked to Louve. ‘He had to, to protect you. If Louve hadn’t released that blade, I would have.’
Balthus whipped his gaze to hers. ‘Again, you think I’d blame you? I don’t understand either one of you. Is this what ordinary families are like?’
‘Where we worry about feelings and showing loyalty and caring?’ Louve laughed low, his heart full of Bied’s fierce protectiveness of him. ‘Welcome to our side.
’
‘I don’t know if I’d want it, it’s too complicated.’ Balthus closed his eyes.
‘You should rest,’ Bied said.
‘Eight days of rest, just a bit more,’ Balthus said, but at Bied’s expression Balthus softened his stance. ‘If I may.’
‘Make it quick,’ she agreed.
Balthus cocked his head as though Bied was someone he couldn’t comprehend; Louve was very familiar with that feeling.
‘You didn’t, by chance, find the parchment?’ Balthus said.
‘I have turned every stone, pried open floorboards and opened every box. Your brother had some good hiding places, and beautiful trinkets, but no parchment. It is likely true it is with Ian’s wife and children.’
‘Who are probably no longer in France,’ Balthus said.
‘I’ll need to find them,’ Louve said. ‘I told Ian I would.’
Balthus’s laugh was thin. ‘If my dear sister-in-law has hidden, do you think she’ll want to be found?’
‘There’s no one else to—’
‘When I’m healed, I’ll leave,’ Balthus said. ‘Remember, I still need to prove my deeds. Lying here and healing is hardly a test of my loyalty.’
‘Your brother wanted to apologise to them. He had wanted to be a better husband.’
Balthus eyes dimmed. ‘Then that’s a message best coming from a Warstone since there’s much we have to apologise for. It’s been years, but she might recognise me. It’s settled, then?’
All Louve had to do was wonder if Ian would have accepted Balthus finding his wife and sons. In his heart Louve knew he would, because it would mean a brother hadn’t betrayed him.
Louve gave a curt nod, and Balthus closed his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath.
‘Do you need anything?’ Louve whispered low.
Balthus gave a shake to his head. ‘I’m relieved to be handing this monstrosity over to you. In truth, I hate this place, but if we don’t keep control my parents will seize this fortress before you expel your last breath.’
‘Wait—’ Louve said.
Bied gasped.
Balthus’s eyes sharpened on her.
‘You can’t grant me this,’ Louve said.
‘True, missives will need to be sent to both Kings and recordings will have to be archived, but after that it’s yours.’
‘It’s a Warstone fortress,’ Louve said. There were numerous reasons why he didn’t want this—it being a Warstone holding and prone to attacks was only one of the reasons. The other was Bied. Although...
Balthus’s eyes grew heavy. ‘Wasn’t it you who bantered about a property and peace and all that? Who will protest? Reynold? Not likely.’
‘What am I to do with this?’ Louve said.
Balthus blinked, his eyes taking on a look Louve didn’t expect. Softer. Regretful. ‘You must. Unless they can be appeased, and they will never be appeased, you have made terrible enemies of my parents. I will tell them what has occurred, that you saved one life for another, but...one parent will demand retribution.’
Beside him, Bied choked back a cry. ‘Balthus, of course he’ll—’
‘I need to think about this,’ Louve interrupted. He would not be swayed until he conversed with Bied. ‘Give me time.’
Bied waved her arm around. ‘For what?’
‘I think you two need to converse.’ Balthus snorted, then purposefully closed his eyes. ‘I can’t believe I just suggested a discussion. This side truly is fraught with peril.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Where did you come from?’ Bied said. ‘You’re drenched!’
Louve closed the door behind him, his eyes greedy for this woman sitting on the edge of the bed. One of her legs dangled over and she was dressed in a generous chemise, with her hair unbound and a comb in hand. He was so grateful it was the end of another day, the demands were put to rest, and he could be in the modest room with her again.
After they had left Balthus’s room that morning, Evrart and Tess were waiting for them in the hallway. Louve didn’t want to part from Bied. Not after Balthus’s proposition, not after that spike of fear he saw in her eyes. He wasn’t done with her yet.
‘I went to the tanners who wanted new tools. I was only there for one conversation, but couldn’t bear to go anywhere else except the lake afterwards.’
‘The lake! That’s outside the walls and it must have been horribly cold.’ She canted her head to the side and ran the comb through her hair. ‘I hope you took someone with you.’
She was always beautiful to him, but especially when she was protective. It warmed him that she gave some of her fierceness to him.
‘Henry.’ He pulled off his tunic and threw it in the corner where it splattered. ‘But he stank far worse than I since I made him enter the building for inspection.’
‘Henry wouldn’t know which end of the sword to hold.’ She pointed the comb at the far wall. ‘One of those chests has some linens. I can’t remember which one. If you can’t find it, I’ll have to check supplies tomorrow.’
Tasks. Duties. It’d been this way for days since the Warstones’ visit. This day, however, was different. Balthus said the fortress could be his. Separated from Bied, he’d spent the day thinking about it. The benefits and the dangers. The burdens and... Bied.
Curious. Louve had looked into the ledgers, only to find them abysmal. It appeared the Steward had been stealing for years from the Warstones, but there was no information on where the coin had gone.
If he had to guess, it went to the paid knight, the Englishman, Sir Richard Howe, to support his campaigns to secure the Jewell of Kings for the Warstones. But Ian had seemed genuinely surprised he had brought him up. Where Howe received his coin from then would need to be investigated. Was it possible Ian’s wife had taken it from Ian?
Too many threads to follow up on in the games played. Too many messengers and enquiries to send out. There was enough to do in this fortress alone. Mei Solis, the estate he’d taken care of for years, was large, but this hold was enormous. The tenants would take him months to know. But now that he’d met the Warstones he understood full well why Reynold fought his parents. Those two could never gain more power and wealth.
This fortress, if he could bring it under control, would set back their plans. It would be difficult, though. Some of the guards continued their undisciplined behaviour. There were a few who’d changed their ways and who’d stopped treating the servers like part of the feast, but many still defied his orders.
The possibilities...but only if Bied stayed. Did she like it here?
Over the last few days, he’d never found her in the kitchens with her head over a pot. Instead she was encouraging an apprentice cook and rearranging others with their roles throughout the house. Cook, or rather he should be called Mathew, was often in the winter garden with Margery and the priest who was agitated over their plans for spring planting. There were more disputes, more learning and fewer accomplishments, but he could see why Bied repositioned people. It would just take time. Would she stay? He would not force her. Her heart was so generous, and already Margery might be persuaded to stay. She could sway Bied and yet...he wanted it to be her decision.
One he wondered about, for she still did not voice her feelings over him. This time with her felt easy, natural—could she love him some day?
He rolled down his breeches along with his braies and threw them in the same direction. Knowing he was fully naked and that she’d be watching, he strolled slowly to the far wall to begin the search for linens to dry off. He heard her exhale before she got off the bed, grabbed one of his dry tunics and tossed it to him.
‘We need to talk and I can’t do that if you’re all...’ She swirled her comb at him.
Clutching the tunic to his side so as not to impede her view, he said, ‘Bending and stretching over locked—’
‘Don’t say it. Don’t!’ she said. ‘I know you’re not the dark growly type and light and humour are more you, but truly you can be too much.’
‘If you despise it, why are you laughing?’ He pulled the tunic over his head, just for her sensibilities, and since he knew where the linens were, he flipped open the chest and grabbed a small cloth.
‘If tomorrow you can’t find your things, just remember this conversation.’
‘I’m simply pleased you believe I’m appealing.’ He smirked. ‘As for my clothing... I’ll merely do what you did and wear someone else’s which is too tight for me.’
‘That was not me! Tess grabbed Bess’s gown. Oh, I can’t even say that sentence!’ she said. ‘I’ll figure out something to do with your clothing and you’re only giving me ideas.’
‘What will you do with it?’ He dragged the linen through his hair. ‘Tie my tunics to the rafters? Hide my shoes in the kitchen’s cast-iron pots?’
At her gaping, he laughed. ‘You’ll have to be devious when it comes to me.’
Pointing the comb at him, she said, ‘Oh, you truly should not have said that.’
‘Why is it me you seek retribution from when I was the injured party? You wearing that tight gown all day caused my breeches to be too ti—’
‘Out!’ Wiping eyes sheening with laughter, she declared, ‘Take all those wet things out, you!’
Chuckling, he scooped up his clothes and wrapped them in the damp linens and opened the door. A few quick words with the guards and the door was closed again.
When Louve turned, the mirth from Bied’s face was gone, her expression one he’d hoped to delay. ‘What are those thoughts in that mind of yours?’
‘Balthus is awake.’ She set the comb in her lap.
At her simple words, the dancing light in his eyes dimmed and Louve took a step back to lean against the wall opposite the bed.
She knew why he did it. The chairs were off near the chests and to converse with her he’d have to sit on the bed next to her. A part of her was relieved he didn’t. This conversation would be difficult enough.