“Sir David?” a woman’s urgent voice filled his ears, familiar. “Can you hear me? ’Tis all right. You are safe.”
Pinned down, David recognized Emilie’s voice. His mind was foggy but he instantly felt at peace. He knew he could not be in a terrible place if she was here. He tried to open his eyes but was only able to open one. Something was wrong with the other one, crusted over. The first thing he saw was Emilie’s smiling face.
“Welcome back,” she said, a bloodied and dirtied rag in her hand. “We were wondering when you were going to join us.”
David blinked, barely able to see her through his clouded vision. “How… how long have I been out?” he rasped.
Emilie turned to wring out her rag in clean water. “Not long,” she said, turning back to face him. “A half-hour or so. How do you feel?”
David closed his eye and shifted slightly, trying to get a feel for the pain in his body and the damage. He’d been through this kind of thing before, injured or beaten, so he knew how to test his body to see how badly he was feeling. From the pain he was experiencing, however, he imagined that he wasn’t too terribly off. He was both surprised and relieved.
“Sore,” he said after a moment. “But nothing seems to be out of place. What is my prognosis?”
Emilie grinned as she put the clean cloth gently to his nose. “First, blow in to this as hard as you can.”
He did. It hurt his head, and face, tremendously to do it but he could feel all manner of blockage and debris coming out of his nose, into the cloth Emilie was holding. Afterwards, he could breathe much better.
“Excellent,” Emilie said as she tossed that rag into a pile on the floor and took another clean one that was next to the pallet. She rinsed it in the water again and began to dab at his forehead. “You had half of the field in your nose. You should be breathing much easier now.”
David blinked, now able to open his other eye a bit as Emilie gently dabbing over it. “I am, actually,” he said. “But you have not told me what my prognosis is yet. What is the damage?”
Suddenly, Edward was leaning over him. “You will live,” he said. “God only knows why or how, but you will. Dennis almost killed you at the end.”
David looked up at Edward, the cobwebs of his mind clearing as he recalled the last part of the mass competition when he was beating Dennis to death. “What happened?” he asked. “I had my hands around his neck and then suddenly I am here. What did he do?”
Edward crouched down, next to the pallet that David was laying on near the brazier in the big de Lohr tent. Dud was there, as was Leeton, and several other de Lohr soldiers, all anxious to see if David would awaken from unconsciousness. Having nearly lost one brother earlier in the day, they were edgy about losing another. Therefore, the fact that David was awake and talking came of something of a relief to them.
“Dennis hit you over the head and then tried to drown you in the mud,” Edward said as he settled on his haunches. “That is why there was so much debris in your nose. You must have tried to breathe some of it in. Had it not been for Leeton and Brick, you more than likely would not have survived.”
David’s mind was clearing rapidly now as the events of the mass competition began to come back to him. “Where are Leeton and Brick now?”
“Here,” Leeton said, coming up from behind Edward. He gazed down at David, a weak smile on his lips. “At least, I am here. You may thank me with gold coins and copious amounts of wine.”
“And you shall have it,” David said, his eyes glimmering faintly. “Words of thanks are not enough, Lee, but I will speak them just the same. You have my gratitude.”
Leeton waved him off modestly. “I will take the wine, but give the coins to Brick,” he said. “He is worse off than I am. Dennis kicked him in the groin when he pulled the man off of you.”
“Where is Brick?”
Leeton threw a thumb in the direction of the castle. “Lord Hampton took him back to the Hampton apartments,” he said. “He left Lady Emilie here to tend you because so many of the physics are stretched thin after the mass. Nearly everyone who competed is wounded one way or the other. I have competed in a lot of tournaments, David, but I have to say that this one is one of the worst ones I have ever participated in.”
“It was a disaster,” Edward grunted in confirmation.
David’s opinion was much the same. “No rules,” he said, disgusted. “John would not allow it. Do we have the final tally on how many men Richard lost?”
Leeton nodded. “Fortunately, none,” he said. “Several are seriously wounded but no one has died yet. John’s forces, however, suffered four dead including the Teutonic warrior you killed. Do you know that man had mayhap the worst reputation of the bunch? They called him the Saxon Butcher.”
David mulled the information over. “Then I did the world a service, I suppose,” he said. “What about Dennis? Was he able to walk away?”
Edward glanced at Leeton, who sighed heavily. “He staggered away,” Leeton said. “As I pulled you out of the mud, Dennis staggered about for a few minutes before collapsing completely. From what I’ve heard, he’s not yet regained consciousness. You dealt him a terrible beating, David. He may never be the same.”
David simply lay there, emotionless on the outside but feeling great angst on the inside. “It was my intention to kill him,” he said quietly. “See how I have failed. For Brentford and for my brother, I failed. I allowed Dennis to live.”
Emilie, who had been cleaning out the cut above David’s left eye, could see his genuine distress. They all did. But her heart, a soft and caring thing, was often her guide in most situations, even more than her common sense. The knights understood David’s lament while Emilie didn’t. She saw something entirely different.
“You fought more truly and more bravely than any knight has ever fought, Sir David,” she insisted softly. “I saw you; I have never seen a man with more courage. Every man who fought in that competition today should be ashamed because they did not fight as well as you did. You lasted until the end, something no one else did. I understand you wanted to seek a reckoning for what Dennis the Destroyer did to your brother and to Sir Brentford, but everything happens in the appropriate place and time. Mayhap this was just not the time. It had nothing to do with your failure.”
The woman who knew virtually nothing about the hearts of men or the code of the knighthood still had some very valid points in her attempt to comfort David. She actually had his attention, which was a rarity with him. He always felt he knew best in most situations but in this one, perhaps what Emilie said had some truth to it. In any case, her words were soothing. There was some comfort in them. He smiled at her, his swollen lips twisted.
“You are kind, my lady,” he said. “I suppose everything happens in God’s time, but I have been known to want to rush God’s timing. This was one of those times.”
Emilie grinned at him, reaching over to pour something from a cup onto the rag in her hand, which she promptly put on the cut above David’s eye. “That is understandable,” she said. “But your haste has left you with a few wounds. I will do what I can for you.”
David was quite pleased by her attention even though whatever she had put on the rag stung like mad. Still, it didn’t matter. He was quite pleased by her observation of his knightly skills as well as her attention to his injuries. Perhaps it was almost worth being injured just to have her lovely attention on him, to bask in her beautiful warmth.
“And I am grateful,” he said, “but whatever you are putting on the gash is stinging me more than the actual injury.”
The knights snorted and Emilie shook her head reproachfully. “After what you went through today, I can hardly believe a small amount of wine will hurt you,” she said. “I am doing to cleanse your wound, not torture you. But steel yourself; I will be cleaning your hands next and they are in terrible shape. I promise not to hurt you more than necessary.”
David grinned at her, a rather besotted expression from
the look on Edward’s face when David eventually glanced at the man. Edward was smirking and Leeton was simply shaking his head, as if ashamed that David should fall victim to a lovely face. Seeing the expressions around him forced David into action; he had been caught in a weak moment and, as much as he had berated his brother for falling victim to his new wife’s charms, David didn’t want to look like a hypocrite for his sweet expression at Emilie. He moved quickly to divert their attention.
“I am well enough,” he told his men, reaching up to lower Emilie’s hand where she was cleaning another small cut on his scalp. He grunted as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, fighting some nausea that accompanied it. “Edward, make sure my brother knows I survived the mass competition but tell him what happened to Dennis. Tell him everything. Leeton, will you see to breakdown our encampment? I will leave it to you and Dud to make sure everything is disbanded. I also want an accounting of what weapons we lost and what needs to be prepared.”
The soldiers began to move, as was usual when David gave an order, but Edward and Leeton remained.
“Lay down, for Christ’s Sake,” Edward hissed, trying to force David to lay back down again. “You had a serious blow to the head. You need to rest. Allow the lady to finish tending you for when she is done, I must send word to her father and he will come and escort her back to their apartments.”
David pushed Edward away. “I am no weakling,” he said. “Go now and do as I say. As soon as the lady is finished with me, I will send word to her father, I swear it.”
Edward sighed with resignation; David was trying to pretend he was well enough when the truth was that he wasn’t. He was pale and injured. Edward looked at Leeton, who was gazing at David with a critical eye. Leeton caught Edward’s expression, silently asking for his support, and the man complied.
“We will go when you lay down again,” Leeton said. “It was I who dragged you off the field, David, and you most certainly were not well. Let the lady tend you while we go about our duties. We will come back to you when all is complete.”
David frowned. “Where is my sword?” he asked, looking around. “I am going to chase you both out of here if I have to.”
“Sir David,” Emilie, who had pulled back when David sat up and started arguing with his men, spoke softly but firmly. “Lay back down this instant. I am not finished tending your head or anything else. Please do this for me.”
They were the magic words; David obeyed her soft plea without another word of protest. The truth was that he felt much better lying down. Grunting as his head throbbed, he caught sight of Edward and Leeton as they quietly quit the tent. They were smirking because David had acquiesced so easily to Emilie. He was smitten with the woman and the knights knew it.
But, strangely, David didn’t care as much as he had only moments earlier.
He let them think what they wanted to think.
When the tent was emptied very quickly as Emilie collected her rag dipped in wine and went back to work on David’s head. He lay there with his eyes closed, as still as stone. Outside of the tent, they could hear Edward and Leeton ordering men to begin breaking down the encampment. As the bustle went on around them outside of the tent walls, Emilie quietly and efficiently worked.
“Where did you get all of those medicines and supplies?” David asked, eyes still closed.
Emilie looked at the small table next to her. “I am not entirely sure, to be truthful,” she said. “I told Sir Edward that I needed a few things to clean up your injuries and he had your men find these things and bring them back. There is a needle and silk thread, wine with herbs, bandages, and a compound that smells terribly of garlic but I was told to put it on your bleeding wounds and wrap it tightly to cure them.”
David peeped an eye open to see what she was talking about; he could see that the small table next to her was cluttered with things. “Garlic has healing properties,” he said. “We always carry that with us, especially in battle. I do not recognize some of those things. They do not belong to us.”
Emilie lifted her eyebrows. “I think some of this was stolen,” she whispered loudly. “Edward would not tell me where it came from.”
David grinned and closed his eye. “It is of no matter,” he said, changing the subject away from stolen medicines so she wouldn’t think he was the leader of a gang of thieves. “Have you done much healing, then?”
Emilie was carefully threading the fine bone needle. “A little,” she said. “It is something that has always interested me. I fostered at Rochester Castle and the lady of the house knew a good deal of healing. I learned from her. And Elise is sick a good deal and I tend her. Well, Lillibet and I tend her together, actually.”
He opened an eye again to look at her. “Elise?”
“My youngest sister.”
“I see,” he said. “And who is Lillibet?”
Emilie was focused on the needle. “My nurse.”
David thought back to the group of women in the wagon earlier that day. “The older woman I saw with you this morning?”
“Aye.”
“The one who spits?”
“Aye.”
“And who do those terrible dogs belong to?”
Emilie laughed. “They liked you a great deal, my lord,” she teased. “How can you call them terrible?”
He grunted in disapproval of dogs in general. “Although they have good taste in men, they are still smelly beasts,” he said. “Do they belong to you?”
Emilie nodded. “They belong to all of us,” she said. “They sleep with Nathalie and Elise. Sometimes they even sleep with Brick.”
David clearly disapproved of the dogs sleeping with their masters, but the mention of Brickley reminded him of the contention he’d had with the man earlier in the day. Contention over Emilie. David was leaning heavily towards hating the man until Edward told him that it had been Brickley who had pulled Dennis off of him, quite possibly saving his life.
That had stopped David’s hatred towards Brickley. Perhaps the man was jealous but at least he didn’t wish David ill will. It hadn’t stopped him from saving his life. That said a good deal for Brickley’s character. David was thankful but that didn’t make him feel any less hostile towards the man who lusted after Emilie.
Brickley had said that Emilie knew nothing of his feelings but David couldn’t believe that. It was very difficult for a man to keep his feelings to himself where a woman was concerned. Surely Emilie suspected something. David decided to put his theory to the test.
Does she know?
“I would not have thought Brick the type to sleep with dogs,” he said after a moment. “Doesn’t he have a wife to sleep with?”
Emilie shook her head but her focus was on the needle, now threaded. “He does not,” she said, moving to David. Her eyes met his, apologetic. “I must put a few stitches in your forehead now. I apologize for any pain I will cause.”
David simply closed his eyes. “I am sure it will be nothing at all,” he said, his thoughts returning to Brickley. He was being deliberate about it, and sly, mostly because he wanted to know what her feelings were about the man. If she was fond of him, as a lover would be fond of another, then at least he would know. It wouldn’t lessen his determination to steal her away from Brickley, but at least he would know. Therefore, he continued carefully. “Back to Brick; before today, I had not seen the man since before I left for the Levant. I cannot believe he has not married yet. He is amiable enough. Surely some woman would find him attractive enough to marry.”
Emilie took the first small stab into his forehead, working quickly. “He is indeed amiable,” she said. “I hope he finds a good wife someday. We look upon him as family and wish him only the best.”
That gave David a little more clue as to what she might feel about Brickley. She didn’t sound as if she longed for the man or as if she even knew of his feelings for her. “He would be family if he married you or your sisters,” he said. “Has your father not considered such a thing?�
��
Emilie shrugged. “I do not know,” she said. “My sister Nathalie is quite fond of Brick and hopes he will notice her, but so far he has not. He has known her most of her life and looks at her as a child still, much to Nathalie’s distress. I do believe she wants to marry him.”
Ah, so the middle sister had her sights set on Brickley. David was pleased to hear that. “And you?” he muttered as she put in the third and final stitch. “Do you want to marry him?”
She made a face, horrified. “Not in the least,” she said. “I have known Brick so long that he is like an older brother. I could never think of him as a husband.”
David felt a great deal of relief at that statement and struggled not to show it. “I see,” he said. “So if not Brick, do you have anyone you hope will notice you?”
Emilie blushed furiously, turning away from him and going for a sharp dagger to cut the silk thread. She cut it quickly, putting the needle and dagger back onto the table. She was rattled by his question because, of course, he was the one she hoped would notice her but it would be horribly forward – and desperate – for her to say anything about it. Unless….
“You have already noticed me,” she flirted cautiously, gauging his reaction. “You took my favor and have allowed me to tend your injury. In some countries, we would be considered betrothed.”
David’s eyes flew open, noticing the grin on her face. So she is toying with me, he thought. He was on to her flirtatious little game.
“Not in this country,” he said firmly, “but I could send for a priest right now. Certainly we could be married before your father could stop us. I wonder if he would try to kill me if I married you without permission?”
She looked at him, noticing the smirk playing on his lips. He was teasing her just as she had been teasing him. But she realized she would have given anything for this to be a serious conversation and not a jesting one. Still, she played his game. It was fun to pretend, even if he wasn’t serious.
The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 125