He took a deep breath, immediately regretting it as pain snaked through him. “Rhun! We’re in the gorge. On a ledge.”
No response.
“Rhys.” Fainter now.
He clenched his fists, fighting the despair. “They’re moving away. Didn’t they see where the horse crumbled the earth at the edge?”
* * *
Rhun and Rhydderch were sure Rhys and Baudoin had fallen into the gorge, but where? The horses had been retrieved some distance away and the tracks were confused.
“We must find where they went over,” Rhydderch shouted to the rest of the group. “Look carefully along the edge.”
He and Rhun lay down on their bellies and peered into the gorge.
“I can’t see the bottom,” Rhun said dispiritedly.
Rhydderch rose and carefully picked his way along the edge. The earth was eroded and dangerously uneven in many places. He examined several spots over and over before deciding which was the most likely. “Here! This is where they fell.”
Rhun joined him and knelt at the rim. “Rhys,” he yelled, cupping his hands to his mouth.
“Rhun,” came the faint reply. “Can you hear me?”
“I hear you, brother,” Rhun shouted, his heart overflowing with relief that his older brother had survived his fall.
“We’re on a small ledge.”
“How far down?”
“About twenty-five feet.”
“Can you move?”
“I think my legs are broken.”
“What about Baudoin?”
“He’s close by. He’s alive, but hasn’t moved.”
“Fear not, Rhys, we’ll get you out,” Rhydderch shouted. He turned to Rhun. “I can’t see them. How are we going to accomplish this?”
* * *
Carys and Annalise were preparing salves in the Still Room. The healer was instructing her sister-by-marriage how to extract the beneficial properties from dried marigolds. Suddenly, Carys dropped the mortar and pestle which clattered to the stone floor. She grasped her rounded belly as the floral aroma filled the air.
Annalise looked at her stricken face. Something was terribly wrong. “What is it, Carys? Are you unwell? Is it the babe?”
Carys shook her head. “Something dire has happened to both our husbands. I can feel it.”
Annalise’s heart skipped and she grasped the beads around her neck. She had always found the aroma of marigolds cloying, now it tightened her throat. “How do you know?”
“I sense things, especially about people I love deeply. They have both fallen.”
“Fallen?” Annalise could barely utter the word. She pressed a fist to her mouth. “Do you mean they’re—dead?” She gripped the edge of the trestle table as the small room spun around her.
“I don’t know,” Carys cried as tears threatened to engulf her too. She grasped Annalise by the hand. “We must pray.”
Rescue
Charting, mapping and measuring required a great deal of rope. Rhun found several sturdy lengths which he and his brother tied securely to a nearby oak. Rhydderch and three other men braced the rope and Rhun rappelled into the gorge. Dirt and debris showered down but Rhys could barely lift his arms to protect his face.
He rasped out directions as Rhun descended and set his feet carefully on the edge of the ledge. There was little room to maneuver, but he dropped to his knees at his brother’s side and clasped his hand.
“I’m glad to see you,” he choked.
Rhys forced a smile. “Not as relieved as I am. I never thought to be elated by the sight of that flaming mop of hair.”
Rhun looked around. “Now, how to get you out of here?”
Rhys put a hand on his chest. “My ribs are broken, and perhaps both legs,” he admitted reluctantly. “Look to Baudoin. Is he breathing? I’m fearful he will tumble off the ledge if he wakens.”
Rhun inched cautiously to kneel by Baudoin, listening for the sound of breathing. “He’s still alive. We’ll get you out, and I’ll return for Baudoin. Can you sit?”
It took several agonizing attempts to get into a sitting position. Rhys came close to swooning at the sight of the jagged bone sticking out of his right shin. His belly rebelled, but retching would pour oil on the fire burning his gut.
He tried to concentrate on what Rhun was saying. “I’m going to get Rhydderch. He’ll have to bind us together, otherwise you won’t be able to hang on to me as we go up.”
Despair threatened to swamp Rhys as he watched his brother climb back up the rope. He swallowed the lump that seemed to be lodged in his throat. “Annalise, pray for me, my beloved,” he whispered. Beloved? Did he love her? The prospect of never seeing her again filled him with deep regret.
Both twins rappelled down. Rhydderch clasped Rhys by the hand, but could not speak. Rhun slowly wrapped lengths of cloth around the broken ribs while his twin examined his legs. Rhys gritted his teeth against the torment as the bandages tightened, aware his brother was being as gentle as he could.
“Your right leg is broken, and badly. I’ll bind it to this splint. Your left ankle is swollen and looks to be just sprained.”
Rhun offered a wad of linen, his face full of concern. “Bite on this.” He grasped his brother’s hand while Rhydderch applied the splint. Rhys screwed his eyes tight shut and bit down hard on the wad as rivers of pain threatened to drown him.
“Rest now a while,” Rhun said. “You’re exhausted.”
Drenched in sweat, Rhys was feeling very light-headed. He prayed he wouldn’t retch. It might kill him. If only he could stop shaking.
“Gather your strength for the most difficult part next,” Rhun said. “I’ll sit in front of you and Rhydderch will bind us together.”
Strangely, the solid warmth of Rhun’s back brought a measure of relief as the rope was carefully wound around the two men.
A voice penetrated the fog. “Clasp your hands around my neck. It will take some of the weight off your ribs as we ascend.”
“I’m too heavy,” Rhys rasped, doubting he could remain awake through the next part of the ordeal. Agony radiated through him as Rhun used the brute strength in his powerful arms to carry the dead weight of his injured brother to safety. Rock and dirt rained down on them as they climbed inch by inch.
Many hands waited to take Rhys and loosen the ropes when they reached the top after what seemed like an eternity.
Rhydderch reappeared beside them. “I’ve looked Baudoin over as Mother taught us. He’s still not awake, but I can’t detect any broken bones. If I carry him up over my shoulder we could risk further injury to something that may be damaged inside. Or we could fashion some kind of conveyance to lift him.”
“Conveyance,” Rhys rasped as blackness engulfed him.
* * *
Rhys woke to the sound of Rhun’s voice. “Drink this. It’s one of mother’s herbals. It will ease your pain.”
He had never experienced such agony. His body was on fire. Sharp-toothed creatures gnawed his legs and torso.
Baudoin lay beside him on a contraption made of tree limbs and blankets. His face was scratched and bruised.
“You got him up?” he whispered, his throat dry. Suddenly, the situation seemed ridiculous. “Two expert riders, two intelligent men, and we fall into a crevice in the earth. I want to laugh, but it’s too painful.”
“Drink the remedy,” Rhun urged. “We must get you to a bonesetter in a nearby village. You can’t travel back to Powwydd in this condition.”
Rhys drank the potion and succumbed gratefully to sleep as Rhydderch covered him with more blankets.
The Bonesetter
The arduous task of extricating the two men from the deep gorge had taken most of the day. Night fell as the exhausted rescuers coaxed their weary horses into the village of Llanfarran.
Rhun’s fatigue was etched on his twin’s face. “I worried we’d never get here after pulling them out of the crevice. I’m anxious to hear the story of how they fell in there in the
first place.”
His brother raked fingers through his hair. “The mishap might have ended in both their deaths. As it is, our brother’s leg is badly broken and our brother-by-marriage hasn’t wakened from his stupor.”
One of Rhun’s bowmen, part of the infantry escort, glanced up at his lord. “Good thing the ledge broke their fall, my lord. The conveyance of tree limbs lashed together was what saved the earl.”
“The contraption was Lord Rhydderch’s idea, Dylan.”
Rhydderch smiled wearily. “Maybe, Rhun, but your strong arms got Rhys out.”
Rhys was tall and well-muscled, the gorge steep and narrow. It had taken every ounce of strength and endurance Rhun possessed to haul his helpless brother to safety on his back. The rope binding Rhys to him had cut deep into his skin, and the burns on his hands stung like the devil. Every muscle in his body ached, but they had saved two lives precious to their family. He might not like the fact his dear sister was married to a Norman, but the prospect of telling Carys that her husband was dead could not be borne.
Dylan shook his head. “It was a disastrous end to an expedition cursed from the start.”
Rhun had to agree. The venture to gather information for road improvements in Wales had encountered a discouraging number of catastrophes, including the loss of several horses and the deaths of too many good men. Resumption would have to wait until the spring.
A rider had been sent ahead to warn the village of their urgent need for a bonesetter. Rhys could not travel far with his mangled leg. Curious villagers recognized and welcomed them warmly as the beloved Welsh rebel patriots they were.
Rhydderch shrugged and a wry smile curved his mouth. “This cursed hair gives us away.”
Rhun shared the humor. “How many other redheaded twin warriors do you know?”
Men-at-arms had borne Baudoin’s bier on their shoulders. Rhys was lashed behind Rhun. Rhydderch rode at their side, his hand planted on Rhys’s back.
They reined to a halt and Rhydderch jumped from his horse to assist in getting their injured brother down. “It’s fortunate you gave Rhys one of mother’s potions. He’s completely out.”
Rhun felt his brother’s weight slumped against his back. “This probably won’t be the last time we’ll be glad we are the sons of a renowned healer, and that we paid attention when she instructed us.”
Rhys was taken from the horse and carried to the bonesetter’s cottage. They expected a man, and exchanged a glance of surprise at the discovery of a slender maiden with ice blue eyes and hair the color of a silver moon hidden away in this remote village. Her unusual gown captured Rhun’s attention. Light and flimsy, yet tantalizingly opaque, its sleeves came only to the elbows.
The woman indicated the raised pallet in the center of the cozy cottage. “Lay him here.” Her sultry voice swept over Rhun like a hot summer wind, and he and Rhydderch complied eagerly. Rhun became aroused at the glimpse of bare female arms as the bonesetter examined the injury. A furtive glance at Rhydderch showed the same reaction.
They coughed and avoided looking at each other. This was not the first time they had both been attracted to a beautiful woman, but for some reason Rhun was irked. To ease his irritation, he embarked on an explanation of the accident and the potion he’d given to Rhys.
The bonesetter eyed them. “You’re Rhun and Rhydderch ap Rhodri, the sons of Rhonwen, the healer, and brothers to the Prioress. I have long wished I could meet your mother. The skills she passed on to you probably saved this man’s life. I am Glain verch Llewelyn ap Aldwyn, setter of broken bones.”
Rhun’s eyes widened. She was the embodiment of her name—a jewel. “This man…er…he’s our brother too. He’s Rhys, the…er…Prince of Powwydd.” Why was he stammering? She must think him a tongue-tied fool.
She bowed her head. “My honor to tend the prince.” To the men bearing Baudoin she said, “Place him by the fire.” She turned back to the twins. “You’ve suffered much this day. Go to the next cottage. My neighbors have food ready and a place to sleep.”
Rhun indicated the injured man by the hearth. “We want to stay with our brothers. We’re worried about Baudoin.” He suspected the Norman name would surprise her.
Her eyes widened. Duwiau! They were as blue as the summer sky.
“He’s your brother also?”
Rhydderch’s abrupt reply betrayed his annoyance at having to explain once again their connection to a Norman. “He’s married to our sister. He’s the Earl of Ellesmere.”
Surprise flickered in Glain’s eyes, but she returned her attention to setting Rhys’s leg. When he moaned and became agitated, she spooned a small amount of a thick potion between his lips, then carefully wiped his sweating face. To their relief, Rhys calmed.
Rhun was curious about the ingredients, but his mouth fell open when Glain smiled at him.
Pray to God I’m not drooling.
“You want to know what’s in it. A pinch of mandragora to help him sleep again and to dull the pain.”
Both men nodded their understanding, though Rhun had little idea what she had said. His thoughts were not on potions.
They observed with interest as she sealed the torn skin with egg whites and covered it with a clean cloth. She mixed a chalky white powder with water, dipped strips of linen and bound the damaged leg, crooning softly.
Rhun assisted by supporting the broken limb.
Rhydderch bathed his brother’s fevered brow.
Before long, both men were humming along with her. Suddenly, they looked up at each other in shock. It was a lullaby from their childhood. The memory washed over Rhun, strengthening his hope for Rhys’s recovery. Rhydderch pressed his lips into a thin line. Always the more emotional, tears welled in his eyes. He sniffed and wiped his sleeve across his face.
Glain’s voice interrupted. “Help me raise him up and I’ll rebind his ribs. He’s a strong man to have survived this, but obviously your family abounds in strong men. After all, you’re the sons of Rhodri ap Owain.”
The twins coughed nervously and shifted their feet. Rhun frowned at the confusion in his twin’s eyes as they stood either side of Rhys, supporting him.
Glain smeared a poultice on the broken ribs. Rhun thought he detected the ingredients from the aroma. “What’s the poultice composed of?”
She kept her concentration on the task. “A mixture of radish, bishopwort, garlic, wormwood, helenium, cropleek and hollowleek.”
Rhydderch inhaled. “How do you prepare it?”
Glain pointed to the mortar and pestle. “I pound them up and boil them with celandine and nettle. Everything must be put in a brass pot until it turns dark red, as now. The remedy soothes aching bones and will help him heal.” She smiled broadly, first at Rhun then at Rhydderch. “It’s good for men to be interested in matters of healing.”
Rhun’s heart raced.
Rhydderch scowled at him.
She bound Rhys’s ribs with strips of cloth dipped in the remains of the chalky mixture, then bade the twins lay him back down, turning her attention to his swollen ankle. “The bone isn’t broken, but I’ll bathe it with knitbone from time to time. I’ll check on the swelling on the morrow.”
Rhun wished her hands were tending his swelling in the loving way she touched Rhys. A glance at the still scowling Rhydderch told the same story.
Glain sighed and looked over at the man lying by the hearth. “Now, the earl. Imagine a lowly Welsh bonesetter tending a Norman earl.”
Rhun felt compelled to explain. “If he wasn’t our brother-by-marriage—”
She shook her head. “He’s a man who needs help, no matter who he is. The Earls of Ellesmere have a reputation as fair men, despite being Normans.”
Rhun smothered his anger at the rebuke.
Rhydderch’s sneering grin made things worse.
She knelt beside Baudoin and ran her hands over his body, probing carefully. Rhun again wished he was the one lying injured. This must stop. He had to regain control of his rampant
arousal. Had she bewitched him?
Glain finished her examination. “He’s cut and badly bruised. This swelling on the back of his head looks ugly. I’ll tend to his injuries, but the best cure for him is rest. Your brother must convalesce too before you journey on, a sennight at least.”
Rhun rubbed his chin. “My sister is with child and Baudoin will want to be with her at Ellesmere Castle when she is delivered. However, we thank you for your care of our wounded. We’ll stay here while they heal.”
When Glain unexpectedly took hold of his hands, he forgot the pain of the rope burns as her warmth penetrated his skin.
“Your palms are hurt. I will salve them.”
Not even his brother’s jealous scowl dissuaded him from yielding to her ministrations. As her delicate fingers spread the cool balm, he was tempted to lift his shirt and have her salve the welts on his belly—
—and mayhap the ache lower down—
Rhydderch jerked him out of his reverie, a grim expression on his face. “On the morrow I’ll send riders to the main camp and to Ellesmere Castle with news of what’s happened. Carys will have sensed something is wrong. Come, brother, let’s leave these two fools who fall into gorges in the capable hands of the lovely Glain. We’ll find a pallet, and perhaps a tankard of ale.”
They swaggered out, their arms thrown heavily around each other’s shoulder. Rhun winked at Rhydderch, singing the lullaby the bonesetter had hummed, suspecting his twin was also wishing fervently he could take the lovely Glain to bed.
* * *
Glain gripped the edge of the pallet where her injured charge slept in his drugged state and breathed a sigh of relief. It was a good thing this beleaguered prince could not see the beads of sweat on her forehead. The moment the redheaded twins had entered her small home, she had been overwhelmed by their presence. Was it their size? Their notoriety? The red hair? The green eyes?
They were angry with each other. Perhaps exhaustion had set them on edge? How hard it had been to keep her voice steady when explaining the poultice, suddenly aware of the gown she wore for tending injuries. Its short sleeves allowed for ease of movement, but it seemed both men had been fascinated by the sight of her bare arms, and she had wanted to cover them. Or perhaps not?
Allegiance Page 6