In Love With A Warrior (Gunn Guardsman (Book 4))

by Griffin, Kara

  “Wait, lad. I’ll help, but ye best tell Marshall I helped you.” He hefted James over his shoulder and carried him outside. He practically threw James onto the cart.

  Emlyn scrunched her eyes, wishing she could give him a what-for, for he was a brute. She returned to the cell and found James’ sword and pouch he wore on his belt. She took them and hid them beside her when she exited.

  “My thanks,” she said to the guard, and tossed the items she held, without him seeing, into the front of the cart.

  “Best hasten if you’re going to catch up to Marshall.”

  “Aye, I will. I should ride hard for he is ahead by hours.” Emlyn sat upon the cart and shouted at the horses and flicked the reins. She was at last on her way. As soon as she rode through the gate, she headed in the direction she’d come from. If only she could make it safely to Gunn land.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  By late afternoon, she’d made a good distance. The midafternoon heated, and she removed her helmet and untied her tunic. Emlyn wanted to stop and check on James, but she wanted to be far away from the keep in case they realized she’d escaped. A large rock jutted from the hillside, and she decided that would be a good place to take rest and to see how James fared.

  She pulled the horses to a stop and let their reins loose so they could forage in the grass. Thinking of that made her stomach growl as she’d eaten nothing that day, but she was more concerned about James than her hunger.

  Emlyn climbed onto the back of the cart and noticed James still lay on his front with his eyes closed. She was leery to touch him as he had to be in a great deal of pain. His tunic spotted with blood from being poked by the spikes of the table. She wanted to weep at the sight, but knew she had to remain strong.

  Gently, she touched his face and his skin was cool to the touch. At least he hadn’t gotten fever. His body sprawled out and she winced at the way his leg bent, where the soldier had stepped on it. How it must pain him. She took notice of his shoulder and arm, and discerned the damage.

  “James, can you hear me?”

  He groaned.

  “I’m getting us to safety. Worry not.” Emlyn caressed his hair and face, touching him gently with reassurance.

  James opened his eyes and grunted. He only kept them open briefly and appeared to succumb to sleep again. That was well and good since he needed rest to heal.

  Emlyn grabbed her satchel and rummaged through it until she found the bread she’d put in there. She nibbled on it and sated herself. Night would be coming soon and she decided to keep going. She hoped she headed in the opposite direction of Marshall, and must have because she saw nary a person on her journey.

  Once she regained the horse’s reins, she started off again, heading north. James had mentioned when they left they would head north toward Gunn land. Emlyn kept apprised of the location of the sun and hoped she headed in the right direction. Only she didn’t know how afar their lands were and hoped it wouldn’t take long.

  The day turned into night as she rode along. Emlyn couldn’t keep her eyes open and dozed off. When she opened her eyes again, she realized she’d fallen asleep, but thankfully the horses trudged onward.

  Another day of riding was ahead of her and when she spotted a stream, she stopped to rest and take drink. She let the horses drink and Oran tried to bite her shoulder when she led him toward the water. James’ horse was definitely of an ornery nature. After caring for the horses, she found a horn in James’ saddlebag and realized it was empty. She dunked it in the water and drank it down.

  She returned to James’ side and tried to get him to drink a little and forced some in his mouth, but he was unresponsive. With as much force as she could garner, she capped the horn and left it next to him, hoping he’d see it if he awakened. The day grew chilly, and she took a tartan from his bag and covered him with it. Fortunately there were two, so she used the other to wrap around herself. She had no idea where her cloak was and had lost it somewhere.

  Emlyn swore she’d never ride as far again, for her rear hurt from sitting on the wooden plank of the cart. Onward she rode, and continued through the night. She only stopped twice the next day, and another night was coming on. The trees, rocks, and hills, all looked alike and the lane ahead wavered in her vision.

  Frustration began to build within her, for she had no conception of where she was or even if she was headed in the right direction. The cart moved forward as the horses slowed their pace. They were tired too, but even if they didn’t move with vigor, they were at least moving.

  Emlyn heard the sounds of other horses and pulled the cart to the side, near the tree line for protection. Hopefully she wouldn’t be spotted. If danger lurked, she’d be ready for it and pulled James’ sword and dirk from the floor of the cart in front of her, and held both.

  A group of men, at least ten, rode toward her. Their leader appeared interested and stopped, gazing at her.

  “Well look, a faery riding in our enchanted woods, lads.”

  She wouldn’t deem them dangerous until they proved to be so. “Good day. I hope you can assist me.”

  The tall lanky soldier grinned. “Aye, milady, we are at your service. What are you doing alone traipsing through our land?”

  “Your land? Where might I be? I am trying to reach the Gunn keep or James’ father’s farmstead, whichever is closer,” she said, wearily, hoping and praying they would help her.

  His brows rose and his mouth turned upward. “You’re on Gunn land, milady. James? Do you mean James Gunn, guardsman to the laird? Damn his fortune.”

  “Aye, indeed I do. I need to get him to safety. Are you acquainted with the Gunns or James?”

  The soldier nodded. His gaze changed from amusement to concern. “I am, och ye speak James’ name as if you know him.”

  Emlyn turned in her seat. “Actually, I do. He’s in the back of the cart and in need of care. Can you direct me to either his father’s farmstead or the Gunn keep? Whichever is closer?”

  The man didn’t answer but walked toward the back of the cart. He hoisted himself up onto the back and knelt next to James. “Christ Almighty, he’s out cold. What’d ye do to him, milady?”

  “I did nothing to him. Marshall’s soldiers did that to him. Can you please tell me which direction I should go?” Emlyn was about to make threats she was sure to follow up on if he didn’t start answering her.

  “James, it is me, Gordy. Can you hear me?” He shook him and James groaned.

  “Don’t, his shoulder is hurt and his leg. I deem his back as well since he was lying on a bed of spikes.”

  “Glory be, milady. What the hell happened to him?” The man whistled low.

  Emlyn lowered her gaze. “They caught us when we were on the way to his father’s farmstead. I was able to escape and get him in the cart.”

  “All by yourself? I deem that must’ve been a feat.” He grinned.

  “Nay, I tricked a soldier into helping me. Can we just be on our way? How do you know James?” She was beginning to get flustered and the young soldier made her nervous.

  “I be a commander-in-arms at the Gunn keep. The name’s Gordy, milady. Laird Grey is away and I don’t expect him anytime soon. Come, follow us, we’ll lead you to James’ father’s farmstead for it is closer than the keep.” Gordy jumped down from the cart and mounted his horse. “Lads, take up behind the cart. Ensure James’ protection.”

  Emlyn hadn’t realized she’d been so tense until she felt the shift of her shoulders. Relief overwhelmed her. She’d reached Gunn land. “How afar is it? James needs care at the soonest.”

  “About an hour’s ride, milady. How did you come to be with James? He was on a mission for the king in Wales.”

  Emlyn wasn’t sure if she should speak of the happenings. “I met him in Wales. He was to take me to my betrothed.”

  The soldier laughed. “Ah, and he didn’t take you there as expected? Is that why he was beat to nary a breath?”

  She nodded. “Aye, he tried to protect
me, but there were more soldiers around us than he could thwart.”

  “Ye don’t have to sing his praises to me, milady. I know James is gallant. Aye, and the most chivalrous man a lass could ask for, if she needs protection.” The man grinned at her as they moved along. He rode next to the cart, beside her and kept his gaze fixated.

  Emlyn slunk back upon the wooden bench and closed her eyes. The ride to the farm wasn’t as long as she’d expected, and soon stone walls came into view. They were short and within the sectioned off land were various grazing animals. She saw many sheep and some bigger kind of cow.

  As they approached the main building, a man came outside and met them. Behind him stood a woman who smiled in greeting, unlike the man who scowled at their group.

  “What business do have you here?” The man shouted an unknown word and several men came running from the outer lying cottages and stable.

  “Joseph, I don’t know if you remember me …”

  The man looked Gordy up and down before nodding. “Aye, I do. What does his lairdship want now?”

  “We’ve James in the cart. He’s been hurt.”

  “Why’d ye bring him here? He wants nothing to do with me.”

  Emlyn hopped down from the cart and stood before the aged man. “Are you James’ father?”

  “Aye, who be you? The last time I saw James he was on his way to wage war. I suppose that didn’t go well?” Even if his words seemed to mock his son, his eyes showed concern.

  “I’m Emlyn. I have traveled afar with James and he was trying to protect me when we were set upon. I fear they hurt him. Can we please see to his injuries?”

  Joseph stepped toward the cart and peered into it. He gazed back at the lady and nodded. She set off inside and grabbed several items before returning to the door.

  “Take him to old Henson’s cottage. I just cleaned it out.”

  Emlyn stood watch over James when the men moved in to remove him from the cart. “Be careful with his back. His leg is likely broken and his arm and shoulder are injured.”

  “Aye, Ayls, will tend to him and patch the lad up.” Joseph followed the procession, saying nothing more.

  Emlyn followed quietly and entered the cottage they took James to. She stood next to the bed and helped strip him of his tunic. As she suspected his back was pocked with bloody marks from the rack he’d been placed upon. Sorrow filled her eyes, but she tried not to weep for she wanted to deeply.

  “Worry not, milady, they are mostly bluster. A goodly salve will heal his back quickly. ‘Tis his leg I’m worried about.”

  “Alys,” Joseph shouted from outside. “Is he dead?”

  “Nay, Joseph. Och I may have to remove his leg. Best get a sharp ax.” She inspected his lower leg and lamented as she assessed him.

  Emlyn grabbed hold of the woman and shook her. “Nay! I forbid it. You shan’t do that, take his leg with an ax. Don’t you understand? He shall never forgive me. He’ll heal, I vow. Can you not do anything else for him?”

  “Calm, milady. We shall try. Have the lads fetch me a few thin sticks about this wide and any cloths they can find.” She held her hands out a few inches. The woman turned and went back to undressing James and covered him with a woolen cover that had been folded neatly on the chair next to the bed. She set James’ garments aside.

  James groaned with the woman’s prodding but didn’t open his eyes. Emlyn grew concerned for he wasn’t wont to come to and until he did, she would despair.

  “Tell me, milady, how you came to be with my James?”

  “Are you James’ mother?”

  James looked akin to his mother with his dark hair and soft brown eyes. His mother was tall and had a pleasant look about her. She smiled and then scowled when she moved his arm. Gently, she set it against his body.

  “His arm and leg are indeed broken. We’ll have to try to straighten them and then secure them so he can heal. I am James’ mother, but I haven’t seen him since he was wee. Bachgen gwael.” Her face grew somber. “He’s grown into a fine man.”

  She’d spoken in the language of her father’s ancestors and Emlyn knew it well for she’d learned it from her grandfather. Her mother forbade them to speak any other language but English. James was verily a poor lad, a poor broken lad at that. “Are you from Wales, my lady?”

  Her face grew somber. “Aye, but I haven’t been back there in many a year. Please, call me Alys, for I am no grand lady. My son has grown into a fine handsome man.” She stood and went to the door. “I could use some help, lads.”

  Emlyn wasn’t sure if her melancholy was because of James’ injuries or because she hadn’t seen James since he was a lad. Two men came inside the cottage and helped to hold James still while she secured James’ leg and arm. He didn’t stir much while she tended him. That worried her for it had to have pained him fiercely. Emlyn went on to explain a little of how she’d come to be with James and by the time she finished, the woman had James’ leg and arm secure. The men left them alone.

  Alys patted her hand. “I can see the unease on your face. He shall survive it that’s what’s worrying ye?” She went to the door again and asked the men for warm water and her bag of herbs.

  “It is my fault he received these injuries. I’m gladdened he will be well.”

  “No sense in placing blame, milady. James was doing what he does best, protecting you. And you seem no worse the wear.”

  Alys kept to her task, and Emlyn asked to assist her. “I must do something. Please let me help you. What can I do?”

  The men returned with the water and herbs. Emlyn took a cloth from the bowl which was handed to her from one of the men, and twisted the water from it. She gave it to Alys, but she handed it back.

  “I need to mix a concoction to help ward off his pain. Do you have enough strength to clean him? Be careful with his back. I’ll help turn him. It needs to be clean before I can put salve on it.”

  She and Alys managed to get him on his side without disturbing the wood tied around his limbs. Emlyn winced at the punctures and softly wiped him. James groaned and she hurried to finish the task. When she was finished, Alys gently pushed her aside.

  “I’ll get this in him and he’ll rest easier.” She set the flask near his lips and poured the contents in his mouth. “I deem you need rest, milady. Joseph,” she shouted.

  Emlyn was in awe of the woman for she seemed not to be intimidated one bit by her fearsome husband.

  “Milady needs a place to rest. Take her to our cottage so she can sleep.”

  “Come, lass.” She wouldn’t budge. “You cannot help him if you’re dead on your feet, lass. Come, you will take our bed this night and we will watch over him.”

  Emlyn didn’t want to leave James’ side, but he was in good hands and she hadn’t slept in days. The thought of closing her eyes seemed unfathomable. She swore to only rest an hour or two and then return to his side.

  She followed James’ father to their cottage. He opened the door for her and she entered. The cottage was homey and large, affording a kitchen to the left and a large table to the right. Beyond was a large comfortable bed and her eyes grew weary looking at it. She kept James’ tartan wrapped around her for it solaced her and it smelled like him. With hesitancy, she approached the bed and lay upon it.

  “Get some rest, lass, for Alys will see to the lad. Worry not.” His father patted her head.

  “I will try.” Emlyn heard the door close and within seconds she fell asleep.

  During the night, she opened her eyes and peered about the cottage. A large fire banked the hearth in the kitchen. She saw Joseph sitting at the table drinking from a cup. Emlyn felt rested and sat up.

  “How is he?” She joined him at the table and he handed her a cup and poured ale from a flagon, filling it.

  “He hasn’t awoken. Thank you for bringing him here. I deem he wouldn’t have come on his own.” The man’s words spoken with sorrow tensed her heart.

  Emlyn sighed for she didn’t know what happene
d betwixt James and his father. She wasn’t sure how much to tell him about their journey. “He mentioned that he was going to visit you, if that means anything.”

  “Aye, it does. I had hoped …”

  “I should be thanking you for aiding him. I was so worried that we wouldn’t find help and I despaired at how much longer he could go without care.”

  Joseph nodded and continued to drink down his ale. “I’ve never seen a man so broken. It hurts to see him like that.”

  Emlyn lowered her gaze, for if he hadn’t been trying to protect her, he wouldn’t have been attacked. It hurt her more knowing she was the cause and she’d never forgive herself if he didn’t mend.

  “I can see it on your face, lass. Don’t hold the guilt, for he’s stubborn and would’ve run into the fray without thought of his safety.”

  “I deem that is the truth. Your wife spoke to him in my father’s language. I was surprised.” She held her cup out for more and he obliged.

  Joseph chuckled. “Aye, I found my wee Alys in the hinterlands of the south. Was the best day of my life when she agreed to marry me. I always hoped my James would find a woman akin to you, milady. Are ye married to our James?”

  She shook her head. “Nay, I am under his care and he was given the task of protecting me until I was called home.”

  His father laughed in a mocking way. “Ha, I deem you protected him more than he you. I suspect that won’t sit well with him when he learns of it.”

  “Nay, I don’t suspect it will.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  James awoke and found himself in an unfamiliar place. It was dark, and but one candle flickered across the room. He tried to move and realized he was bound. His body was strapped to the bed he lay upon. He pulled against the bounds and discerned his efforts to escape were futile.

  He rasped at the failure and at the pain that coursed through him. His chest tightened with dread. James closed his eyes and tried to think of the last thing he remembered. Emlyn was taken away and he’d fought his captors. He recalled being drug away and tortured in their god-awful chamber.