suffer for me.”
“I’ll not doubt a woman’s riding skill again,” the young
man returned with wry humor. His laugh finished on a
grunt of pain.
“We’ll ease your discomfort.”
“Please no, Mistress,” was Naismith’s hoarse plea.
“You’ll be punished if you defy the Captain’s order.”
“I’ll not disobey. Ned will see to your back, not I.”
“But—”
“Your captain’s orders were to me. Ned was not barred
from tending you. He’ll make you more comfortable in
short order.”
Fish sighed in gratitude. “I’m much obliged fer yer
help, Mistress. I’m far better at causin’ wounds than at
tendin’ ‘em, as Johnny here can prob’ly tell ye.”
“Aye. He doesn’t have your soft hands, either,
Mistress.”
“Ned’s hands must do, but ’tis certain they’re far
gentler than Malcolm’s.” She smiled to take the sting from
her jest.
Naismith’s back was raw, with several deep, oozing
gashes. Guilty anger flooded Alicen at causing his pain.
But she would aid him. And follow orders. She and Ned
worked swiftly, keenly aware that if Blaine heard of this
they could be punished for skirting his command.
***
Less than an hour after dawn, Jeremy staggered from
the stable, headed for Landeyda’s well. With shaking
fingers he grasped the crank on the winch and lifted a
bucket of ice cold water from the depths. He stank of
smoke and ale, and the combination made his stomach
turn.
Jesu be merciful, his head ached! He couldn’t
remember the ride back from Sherford, and what he could
recall was somehow related to Alicen Kent. Of a certain,
he’d awakened in her stable—face down in the straw at
Charon’s feet. It was his good fortune that his well-trained
destrier had not trampled him while he slept off the effects
of all the ale he’d drunk the previous night.
Blinking didn’t immediately clear Jeremy’s blurry
eyesight, and the vision that flashed into his head was of
him kissing away Alicen’s fears and making love to her
until the dawn.
I’ve gone completely mad, he thought grimly, forcing
from his mind the image of bedding the healer. Did I even
wish to sport with her, she’d not let me near enough to
touch her.
Nor would I.
Jeremy closed his eyes. Go away. You don’t exist.
A very feminine laugh filled his head, but he ascribed
that to excess drink. Or, he truly was mad. But mad or
no, he had his duty—protect the duke, then help him
regain his lands. Alicen Kent’s duty was to follow his
orders and to heal William. She’d already gone far in
fulfilling the latter. It was her not carrying out the former
that had him grinding his teeth.
He groaned low in his throat, his entire body
reminding him that excess drink and little sleep came
dear. ’Twas miraculous he’d managed to ride Charon back
to Landeyda.
A gulp of morning air steadied him, but shame at his
excuse for intemperance burned. He’d sought to forget
his appalling actions, to forget at least for a time the
woman he’d mistreated. He could not undo his deed, yet
this truth brought no ease. No amount of ale could drown
his memory of Alicen’s fear.
Gingerly, he ran both hands through his hair. He must
regain his wits. There was much to do, much to set right,
and he’d wasted a good deal of the previous eve. With a
muted grunt, he thrust his head into the bucket in hopes
the icy water would end his suffering. He stood this shock
as long as he could before raising his head to inhale
deeply.
A pitchfork’s wicked tines were mere inches from his
face.
Jeremy’s senses cleared in an instant, but alcohol
yet slowed him. He took a cautious step back and sized
up his adversary. Blood red eyes widened in surprise.
Ned stood before him, feet planted, the dangerous
implement held firmly in small hands. The look on his
face indicated he had every intention of using the
pitchfork.
“You attacked Alicen,” Ned cried, voice rising. “You
frightened her.” He stabbed at Jeremy, forcing the man
to take another step back. “Leave her be!” This statement
was emphasized with yet another thrust.
Despite the possibility of being skewered by a lad of
three and ten, Jeremy couldn’t hold back a smile. ’Twas
certain Ned had grit. He stepped back again and
straightened to his full height. Then he lifted his hands
in a gesture of truce.
“Hold. I’m unarmed.”
The boy didn’t lower the weapon, so Jeremy kept a
wary eye on the threatening tines.
“I thought to kill you, but Alicen wouldn’t let me.”
“That was wise of her,” Jeremy replied softly. “You’d
have hanged for murder if you had. ’Twould be a waste of
life.”
His words brought confusion to Ned’s brown eyes.
Seeing the boy’s expression change from anger to doubt,
Jeremy tried diplomacy. “Put down your weapon, and
we’ll settle this dispute as grown men should.” He caught
wariness flickering across the young face and added,
“You’ve my word as a knight and an officer I’ll not harm
you.”
Ned lowered the pitchfork with arms that trembled
from the effort to keep it aloft. “Why did you touch her?”
he demanded.
Flushing at the reminder of his knavery, Jeremy
muttered, “She made me lose my temper.” Nay, she made
me lose my wits. “It was poorly done of me. ‘Twill not
happen again.”
“If you don’t like her, why not leave?”
Jeremy sighed. “It’s not that simple, lad. I must guard
Duke William until he’s able to return to his court.”
“Stay in Sherford.”
“Impossible. I must run the duke’s affairs while he
cannot himself. I must be constantly near should he need
me.” Jeremy took the pitchfork from Ned’s hands, then
set it against the well. “On my word, I’ll not distress your
mistress again.”
“If you do, you’ll answer to me for it.” Ned adopted a
belligerent pose, hands fisted on hips.
The boy’s solemn statement and determined
expression almost made Jeremy smile. “I’m sure the lady
is grateful for your protection and feels safer because of
it.”
“She’s my friend,” came the emphatic reply. “I must
protect her from curs like you. Should you harm her more,
I will kill you.” He strode away, leaving an amused knight
in his wake.
That amusement fled with Jeremy’s returning
headache. And with the admission that he should never
have given Ned reason to seek his life. Slowly, he finished
washing. When he looked up again, Taft stood beside him.
“Good morn, Michael,” h
e said without enthusiasm.
“Last night was peaceful?”
“Aye, sir.” Taking in his superior’s state, Taft smiled.
“I could ask the same of you.”
Jeremy grimaced. “Do not! And when next I decide to
drink, run me through first. ’Twould be a far less painful
end than dying of excessive ale.”
“Breaking fast will cure the malady.” Taft laughed and
clapped Jeremy on the back. “Cook has brandywine, eggs
and bread on the way.”
“I should promote you, Michael.”
“Nay, the challenge of keeping you from roguery is
reward enough for my pains. I know I’m doing some good.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Jeremy winced at the image his
statement brought to mind and hastily added, “Or mayhap
not.”
The lieutenant laughed again as he led the way to the
kitchen the soldiers had repaired.
“You’re certain naught occurred last eve, Michael?”
Jeremy asked casually as they dished their food into
wooden bowls.
“Aye.”
“Strange. I checked Naismith when I awoke, and I’d
swear his lashes had been expertly tended.”
“If you believe Ned to be such, then you’re correct,
sir.”
Jeremy’s casual demeanor vanished with his
subordinate’s shrug. An intense glare replaced it. “Do
you seek to protect the healer?”
“Nay, sir,” Taft stated calmly. “As ordered, she didn’t
touch Naismith.”
“Yet she instructed her apprentice in the treatment
of his wounds,” Jeremy returned with a flash of insight.
“Aye, she did.” Silence spun out a minute before Taft
added, “I admire her courage. She has strong convictions.”
“Aye. And she schemes to undermine my authority.”
“I rather think compassion drives her to risk her own
welfare for her duty. And I daresay you think the same
way.”
Jeremy scowled. “Place no wager on that assumption.”
The two fell silent as they ate beneath the oak in the
courtyard. Ned found them thus. He ignored Jeremy,
addressing his lieutenant instead.
“The duke has awakened,” the boy stated. “Alicen says
you may see him for a few moments if you wish.”
Jeremy’s misery disappeared with those sweet words.
“Praise God and all the saints in Heaven,” he exclaimed,
ignoring the dizziness caused by leaping to his feet. He
grinned and slapped Taft on the back. “William’s awake!”
He nearly ran to the infirmary.
A weak smile greeted him when he entered the room.
William, propped up with bolsters, looked somehow small
and wan amidst the bedding. Jeremy knelt beside him
as much in gratitude to God as to show loyalty.
“My lord.”
“Jeremy, arise,” William softly chastised him. “There
is no need for ceremony betwixt us.”
“I failed to protect you,” the younger man said, voice
gone husky. “I thought I’d never speak with you hence.”
He rose to his feet to grasp William’s hand in both of
his.
“I thought the same. Yet, to my extreme good fortune,
you brought me to a gifted physician.” Jeremy couldn’t
meet his gaze. “What troubles you?” William prompted.
Before he knew it, Jeremy had poured out the story
of what had ensued since their arrival six days before.
William looked grave at word of the whipping and Jeremy’s
treatment of Alicen Kent.
“Apologize at once. We all owe her a great debt. Anger
between the two of you won’t serve.”
“I’ll do my best, my lord,” he replied reluctantly. He
knew he owed Alicen an apology, but how could he trust
her not to betray them all when she contested all Jeremy
tried to do?
Noting William’s drowsiness, he excused himself. Had
his messenger returned from Tynan? He hoped so. With
the duke now alert, plans to remove him to his court
could progress.
***
At midday, Alicen fed William a bowl of hearty broth.
It was far too soon to try him on solid food, but his good
appetite and returning strength encouraged her.
When he spoke, his breathy voice held a rich timbre.
“Sir Jeremy told me of yesterday’s regrettable
circumstance.”
She stiffened immediately. “’Tis done. No good is
served by bringing it to light again.”
“I’ll not mention it hereafter. But I wish you to know
that he regrets—”
“Then why does he not say such?” Temper edged
Alicen’s voice as she cut off the duke’s comment. “You all
are certain he’s contrite, yet I’ll not believe he rues his
actions in the least ‘til I hear such from his own lips.”
Seeing William’s incredulous expression, she lowered her
gaze. “I pray you, my lord, please make no excuses for
him.”
William’s jaw dropped. “None save the King use that
tone to address me,” he stated. Then he smiled. “I admire
your forthright manner, lass. But understand, such
boldness in females raises Sir Jeremy’s ire.”
“I’ve been made painfully aware of that already, my
lord.”
Wry compassion entered William’s eyes. “I’ll not
command him to beg your pardon.”
“Nor would I expect that. I’ve no want of empty words
spoken only to appease a superior.”
“I applaud your honesty,” William said with a smile.
“’Tis my way.” Alicen winced inwardly at the lie.
“Then tell me honestly why you so dislike soldiers.”
She shot him a glance, but replied steadily, “My
betrothed died at Harfleur serving the King. Father also
fought for the Crown. He never protected Mother and me
when we needed him. He was always away, fighting in
someone else’s name, perhaps protecting someone else’s
family...Or killing them. Others came first. Never his own
loved ones.”
Her mother’s deathbed entered her thoughts. “Vow
n’er to take a side in any conflict, Alicen.”
“But, Mother, Harold’s troops did this to you. How can
I heal them?”
“You must. ’Tis what you are. Soldiers kill. They fight
for love of battle. Like your father. But what they do must
not change what you do.”
The light of recognition abruptly entered William’s
eyes. “Your father was Phillip Kent?”
“The same.”
“We fought together at Agincourt. King Henry and
his peers, myself included, considered him a very fine
soldier.”
“He was. But I hate the qualities that make a man a
fine soldier.” Her voice quavered. “Loyalty, obedience, love
of combat—all warriors have such traits, do they not?
They slaughter on command and pillage for profit, but
won’t stay home to see their families safe.” Swallowing
through a tightened throat, she looked away.
“Did your father make provision for you to wed
another?” h
e asked gravely.
The seemingly casual question chilled Alicen. Her gaze
sharpened, but she forced a calm reply. “Father died in
France. He had no time to make arrangements for me.”
“You are alone?”
“I much prefer it that way,” she replied with soft
emphasis.
“But all women not of the Church should be wed,”
William returned, voice firm despite his pallor. “As your
liege, ’tis my duty to see you cared for. You need a man’s
protection.”
“Nay!” Alicen blurted before controlling her sudden
panic. “My lord, please. I could never love a man so much
as I love healing. How unjust to tie him to a woman who’d
care little for him.” None would understand what I do and
why, she thought forlornly. Orrick once did, but he knew
me from a child. No other could accept the power of my
healing art.
A knock at the chamber door interrupted the tense
silence.
“’Tis Jeremy, my lord,” came a deep voice.
“Come.” William cast a sidelong glance at Alicen as
she removed the eating utensils. She stiffened and swiftly
wiped at her eyes with her fingertips.
Alicen noted how the knight filled the room with his
presence. His color had improved since morning, and his
walk was again self-assured, but upon seeing her he
hesitated.
“If you need aught my lord, alert Ned or me,” she said
tightly, indicating the handbell on the table. “Ring for us,
or send a man.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” the duke replied sincerely, still
studying her. “You’ve been more than kind.”
“You need a good deal of rest. Don’t o’ertire yourself.”
She averted her eyes as she moved past Jeremy to
the door, but he watched her with an intensity she could
feel.
Following Alicen’s departure, the room fell silent.
William leaned back on the pillows and spoke to the
ceiling. “I see you’ve yet to apologize for being an ass
yesterday.”
“The proper opportunity has not presented itself,”
came the clipped reply. Jeremy suddenly realized he still
stared at the door Alicen had passed through. He hastily
turned to the duke.
William glanced at him. “I try not to give advice
concerning women, but now I must. Mend your quarrel
with Alicen Kent before matters become untenable.”
“She goes out of her way to subvert my command.”
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