by Amber Dane
Goran made to protest, then decided against it and held a hand up to quiet the upset that ran through the men. "As you wish, my lady."
Alexa smiled and walked past him.
Goran sighed. Sadness clung to the deep grief he carried as he watched her.
His friend’s wife had gone stark raving mad.
Looking out over the hilly marsh, Goran sighed. No rider was visible other than the watchers.
Alexa felt free as the cold wind stirred her bones under the long cape she wore. She knew Goran did not believe her, thought her quite mad. She could feel the burning looks of sadness he threw her way as he rode beside her up the grassy knoll. She did not care.
By the end of the day she would prove her feeling true. Or at least she prayed she would in the coming days.
When she'd awakened, something she could not explain had burned wildly in her heart. The acceptance of the babe was one, the other-
Had drawn her out of a deep sleep during the night and she would not tell Goran what it was. He would believe she’d dreamt it. She could still hear it in her head.
Rourke had called her name.
It had been so clear as if he'd been standing right in the room with her. But when she'd woken, expecting to see him standing there beside their bed, he was not. Yet his voice had been so real, sounded so loud and pained in her ear. She did not question the possibility of how.
But she knew he lived.
She felt it.
And she still did later as by midday they came to a stop on the grassy knoll.
Goran was silent and she was glad. She’d no wish to engage in conversation. Alexa took in the sight of the fields and green plains. She would sit here every day if she had to if it meant Rourke’s return and she would be right here to greet him.
It took a while but eventually Rourke figured out the pounding in his skull was that of hoof beats. Many coming in his direction. His body was on fire and his head lay against the horse’s neck. He swore he heard someone shout his name. With his strength near its last Rourke struggled and managed to lift his head.
‘Twas dawn.
He saw the figures on horseback bearing down on him at great speed. But it was the rider in front he focused his blurry vision on. The riders reached him just as he felt himself slipping sideways from the horse.
Strong arms and thighs stopped his fall. The man who had caught him shouted something over his head and Rourke blinked back the waiting darkness.
He needed to say something before his last breath left him to this man.
“D-Da-” Rourke damned his parched throat.
“Do not speak. Wait. Water!” Darc Renald shouted again over his head.
The coolness of the water brought little relief and it came back up. Rourke clutched fiercely at Darc’s hand that held the sheepskin.
“The R-Raven.” Rourke choked out.
“He is dead, Rourke. I’m going to get you home, my friend.”
“Not de-dead. I saw his face,” Rourke managed on his last strangled breath.
Darc stared down into Rourke’s bruised, swollen and bloodied face.
He knew his friend was delirious with the fever set upon him. But in the moment he'd spoken of their mutual enemy, his green eyes had been bright with clarity and free of fever.
The Dark Axe had spoken truth.
The moment Alexa spotted Darc and his men coming over the rise a raw cry of anguish erupted from her lips and she felt herself sliding off the gray gelding. The scene before her spinning and she felt sickness in her gut. She vaguely heard Goran’s shout as she ran past him as if the hounds of hell were gnashing at her heels. She was already off and running toward Darc's horse, her breath ragged.
God, nay! Alexa cried or thought she did as the burning started in her chest. She needed to breathe, but could not. The limp form on the pallet could not be Rourke's.
He lay so still.
His chest did not rise or fall with breath. Someone was speaking to her.
Darc Renald’s deep voice cut through the high pitched roar that burst from her burning lungs.
"My lady, he is gravely wounded, but he lives. We wrapped his wounds as best as we could," said Darc.
Alexa’s gut clenched. The lieutenant lied. Too much blood not only matted her husband's golden hair, but the wool blanket in which he was wrapped was soaked in it.
Blood.
Everywhere.
Too much of it for Rourke to be alive. Still Alexa reached out and touched the back of her trembling hand to his sunken and bruised cheek. No heat her met her cold skin.
Unbearable grief washed over her. As carefully as she could, she tried to pull him off the pallet into her arms, causing the blanket to fall away from his upper body. Alexa cried out when she saw his ribs and wound parts not covered by the soaked cloth. Goran touched her shoulders.
“My lady! Please let us see to the rest.” He said with urgency.
“Nay!” She cried and pulled from his touch to run her shaky fingers over Rourke's still chest. His flesh was burning up. “Nay” she said again quietly and bit her lip to stop the flood of tears. “I will not leave him.”
“I know, my lady. I know. Come, we will get him up quickly. Time is wasting.” Goran spoke softly, but firmly for Rourke’s blood, although slowly, still seeped into the earth. Goran managed to move her away, barking out orders for the healer to be summoned, and to get their lord to a chamber.
THIRTY-SEVEN
The bandages Darc Renald had used had indeed staved off the bleeding somewhat by binding the wounds tightly, Alexa noted as she stared down at Rourke’s still form in their bed. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him for fear if she did he'd disappear right before her eyes. So much death and despair in the past months. She could not handle another life lost. Still she remained steadfast and true. And looked to the healer.
The healer nodded and assisted her with each bandage and when they'd unwrapped them all, Alexa felt herself sway and the sense of light headiness assailed her. The full extent of the gruesome wounds inflicted upon his person tore through her. She wanted to be sick but after a few quick great gulps of air, she blinked rapidly away the tears that filled her eyes, blurring her vision.
The healer had said her body would react and be sensitive because of the quickening of the babe and Alexa told herself that was why she was so weepy. She knew it as a lie as soon as she thought it.
She shook her head and got to work. They needed to work fast. Her grief and heartache over what Rourke had endured and suffered was overwhelming, but it would have to wait.
She needed to ease his suffering now and make him more comfortable. There would be enough time later for her to give in and wallow in her grief.
His body reeked to high heaven. Blood and filth covered him head to toe.
He did not wake once during the bathing and cleansing of his wounds. A few stitches had been needed at his wrists when they’d finally managed to get the manacles cut from them and around the deep gouge on his back. Bits of mortar had to be picked free from the deep and pus oozing cut. But the healer packed that too with a foul smelling poultice before bandaging it.
His breath came in shallow gasps. The healer pressed a cup into her hands and Alexa, gently holding his head, forced the medicine between his cracked and dry lips.
After the drink his breath evened out and appeared steady. Alexa sighed, nodding as relief filled her chest. Her eyes lifted and met Darc's. She did not care if her pain showed, she needed to do this.
"Thank you, Darc for bringing him home”
The scowling scarred giant acknowledged her with a curt nod. He stood with Goran at the foot of the bed watching over them like a guardian angel.
Alexa watched the healer’s face as she inspected the wound under Rourke’s arm and his head. Uneasiness settled in Alexa’s gut at the nervous look the healer shot the men before meeting her own curious gaze.
“What is it?” Alexa asked, hearing the strain in her voice.
“It-It has festered and more will be needed to catch it all, my lady.”
Alexa shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“To stop it from spreading further, much more cutting must be done, my lady.”
“Nay. Doing that will restrict use of his arm.” was Goran’s angry cry.
“Will it be all and save him?” Alexa, horrified, queried despite the nausea boiling in her gut.
The healer nodded. Alexa choked down the strong urge to retch and demanded impatiently, “Tell us all of it.”
“The lord’s hair would need to be shorn away to get to the wound in his skull. ‘Tis far more dire, my lady than the burn. 'Tis what has him locked away in that beast of a fever. I need to see it more clearly, clean it thoroughly and pray the infection has not run too deep. A poultice and suture may be all that is needed, but please, I need to cut more away now. The blow was struck to be fatal, my lady. Until he wakes, we cannot tell how much damage has been done to him.”
Alexa knew what she meant and choking back the knot in her throat; she rose from the side of the bed and quickly went to a chest across the room. She would do this herself.
As for the wound under his arm….Alexa looked at Goran and Darc, then back to the healer.
“Forgive me, Rourke, I do this because it must be done." Alexa spoke her words into her his ear. The others in the room may not think he could hear her, but she believed that he could. To Darc and Goran she spoke with no room for question. “She will need your help for I cannot.” Alexa settled herself as closely as she could to her husband’s head and with the sharp dagger in her hand, she lifted a lock of his hair as she spoke to the healer over her shoulder. “Do it," she told the healer hoarsely as she focused on shearing off chunks of his hair. She kept her focus there while the men held him down and the healer removed more flesh from his side. Alexa was glad Rourke remained unconscious; still she flinched with him when the red hot blade pressed to his flesh.
The cutting away under his arm had left more flesh raw, but clean skin shown and Goran and Darc assisted the healer in cauterizing the wound around the edges to stave off further spread of the infection.
This and the head wound were the most dire and caused Alexa deep worry.
He would heal under his arm and side eventually, but the wound in his skull, she prayed the infection did not run as deep as the healer thought. If it ran any deeper he would not return. He would rot from the inside out had been the healer’s exact words.
“Great care is needed here, my lady. Follow my instructions to the last. The coming hours will be the hardest, dark, but there is chance he will pull through. Prayers for my lord, my lady.”
“You will remain under this roof so that if the lady needs you, you are only a shout away.” This order came from Goran as he and Darc followed the healer out of the chamber closing the door behind them.
Alexa brushed the short and jagged locks of hair back from Rourke’s forehead. Her hands shook. At least he was safe now. She smiled and spoke softly to him. "You’re safe now, Rourke. Come back to me." hoarseness cracked her pained whisper. She stretched out next to him and gave in finally to the deep sobs that tore from her throat.
During the next day Alexa stood watch, wearily from little sleep over Rourke. He was babbling. Much of it incoherent as the devil beast of a fever tortured his body.
What she experienced in this room, she would tell no one and ‘twas why she refused to let anyone in outside of Goran and the healer now.
She would allow no one to see him like this, his vulnerability exposed. ‘Twas madness and no sense that seized him and he was in no shape to control it and it broke her heart.
She lay her head down on his uninjured shoulder; the heat of the fever warmed her forehead. He was burning up and she placed the warmed agate, wrapped in a dampened cloth across his forehead and held it there with a prayer the stone worked faster to draw some of the fever out of him.
She studied the smooth lines on his handsome and bruised face that bunched as his expression changed to one of pain. She cooed softly to him, her mind wondering if his dreams were plagued with the torture he’d suffered.
Darc Renald had mostly spoken to Goran on where and how they had found him and Alexa was fine with that. Right now, her only concern was Rourke’s health and nursing him back.
Her mind wandered to the many battles he’d been part of under William’s iron fist when it’d swept down upon England. The many years of famine and death in order to take control. Rourke had been part of all that. She told herself he had been doing his duty and the hundreds, if not thousands of lives that had perished, could never be replaced. Yet, she decided, war was two sided and no one single person was right and he’d simply followed orders. What unimaginable horrors he must have seen and had to contend with. The fever raging within him and the nonsense he spoke, of the sensible pieces she’d been able to decipher, his ramblings went back further than his recent captivity. Alexa pressed her cheek to his and closed her eyes for a brief moment. He was a bit cooler.
God, she wanted to scream and rage against the ones who had tortured him so. She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze and drew back with a gasp fearing she might have hurt him. His fingers were so swollen and stiff. 'Twould be days before the swelling went down.
He made a sound and his body began to thrash. She removed the agate and climbed on the bed. Getting as much of her arms around him as she could, she hugged his body to hers. He thrashed for a few short seconds more and as she spoke softly in his ear, his large body calmed and his shakes lessened. She soon fell asleep in exhaustion next to him.
A shout had Alexa jump up with a start in bed. She opened her eyes to see that dawn was just breaking and quickly her eyes darted to the spot next to her.
It was empty.
Goran’s warning came low next to her, stirring the hairs on the back of her neck. “Stay here, my lady, we shall have him back in bed in a moment.”
Alexa’s heart lurched in her chest. Rourke, naked as the day he was born, stood near the window with a blade in one hand and his axe in the other. He swung both, wildly, seeing a foe that none but him could see as the fever had its way with him. Heart wrenching pain sliced through her and Alexa flew off the bed, but Goran’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“Sorry my lady, but he is not himself. Stay back” he pleaded.
“I cannot. He needs my help.” Her tortured whisper tore from her aching chest.
“You can help him once I get him back in bed.”
“Please,” she cried.
Goran had two soldiers that were standing out in the hall come forward and hold her. He turned and circled Rourke. Alexa watched. Her husband’s friend missed getting his head and innards torn apart twice. Goran could not find an opening of attack to stop his lord.
Anguish swept over her and Alexa could not halt the plea that burst from her lips. “Rourke, please.”
His arm stopped mid-swing and hung in the air. His eyes found her but she knew ‘twas not she he was seeing. His green eyes were glazed over from the fever. It was only the briefest of seconds, but enough for Goran to jump him from behind and Alexa flinched with a gasp at the impact of their large bodies connecting. She closed her eyes when the two hit the floor with a loud thud. A sigh of relief fell from her parted lips when the sound of the weapons hitting the stone floor rang loudly in the room.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Alexa removed the final bandage and let out the painful breath she held. Thank be the Gods above! The poultice had worked!
Edges of a healthy scab around Rourke’s wound under his arm were beginning to show. No lingering signs of pus clung to the wound and the red rawness of it looked clean. He was a long way from a full scab. ‘Twould be a few more days for one to cover such a large and deep area. Nonetheless, the sight of the clean wound was a good omen to her.
Scars from the deep burn would remain. She did not care. She could live with it and would love him no less. It meant his fever
too would soon break.
His moan drew her hand to his brow. Aye, he was not as hot. He had been lucid at times, in and out of the grip of the raging fever the past few days. Still she dipped the cloth again into the tepid water mixed with marigold and wrung it out to lay it across his creased brow.
It was the sixth night now and he still had yet to wake.
The bleakness that had consumed her over the past few days was not so strong today. His moan not so tortured was part of it as was the sight that his wounds were healing.
Still Alexa could not stop herself from leaning near his ear to whisper, “You will come back to me, Norman. I love you. There is naught for me without you. Aye, you will come back to me simply because I command you to, Rourke.”
She swore he grunted on her last words, but she chuckled that it was just her wishful thinking that made her hear it. She planted a kiss on his lobe, then his lips before she turned and left the chamber.
Rourke scowled in his sleep.
He was having the most wonderful dream and he did not wish to wake.
He was in a wheat meadow lying on his back, the bright sun beat down on his face as Alexa leaned over him. Her long amber tresses unbound the way he favored and her sweet lips pressed hotly against his skin. She had just told him that she loved him, ever so softly in his ear.
He had wanted to call out to her his pleasure at hearing those words, but then she’d risen, commanded he come back to her before turning away.
He’d wanted to scream that he had and to tell her he was right here in front of her. But how could he when she kept walking away. The gentle sway of her curved hips holding his cloudy gaze captive.
Command him, would she?
Rourke’s scowl deepened as she walked across the meadow out of his sight. His high and mighty, hellion! No matter, she had said she’d loved him, so he’d let it slide.
His scowl turned into a grin as he strolled leisurely through the sunny meadow. He would wait and he prayed his hellion returned.