She could feel it burning into her very soul.
“There is really nothing more to tell,” she said, avoiding giving him an exact answer. “They captured us when we were waiting for wounded with the surgeon’s and provisions wagons, they took us to their encampment, and Cole and his men rescued us this morning. It is not as if they had us in chains, Ares. They were not… unkind to us, given the situation.”
He was looking at her as if he didn’t believe her, but had the courtesy not to press her. “We can speak more of it when you are rested,” he said. “As for Cole – he will be well. You will see him when this is over.”
Corisande appreciated the encouragement. She also appreciated the change in subject. “I want to see you, too, when this is all over.”
Ares flashed her a grin. “That is my intention, also.”
“God go with you, Ares.”
Corisande watched him head off into the de Bourne encampment where men were mobilizing. She could hear her father and brothers shouting at them. It seemed apparent that everyone was heading towards the city of Berwick and the mouth of the river, to both fight off the Northmen and repel the Scots that were determined to join forces with them. No matter what, they had to keep the Northmen out of the river.
Something told Corisande there were going to be a lot of wounded to tend to. Weary as she was, she had come on the battle march for a specific task. As she’d told Cole, she had no intention of shirking that duty.
Squaring her shoulders, Corisande went about preparing for what was to come and praying she still had a reason to live when it was all over.
God keep you, Cole…
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Seven days later
“Berwick held,” Cole muttered, looking over the battered walls. “I will admit, I had my moments of doubt. But it held. We have the castle and the town.”
He was speaking to Julian, Addax and Essien as they stood down by the river’s gate of Berwick Castle. They were on the rocky shore of the river itself, gazing up at the walls that had taken a beating from the Scots.
But the river itself was even worse.
Burned-out hulls, three of them, littered the shoreline. Those were the unlucky longships belonging to the Earls of Orkney that had managed to break the line at the mouth of the River Tweed the day of their arrival, only to get close to the castle so Jax could unload his war machines on them.
They fired flaming barrels of fatty oil down onto the ships, barrels they’d confiscated from a couple of the taverns in town and tallow they’d taken from several residences. They’d raided the town in order to get enough fuel to launch at the longships that were trying to come ashore, but once the flaming barrels hit the decks and spread the burning oil, the ships went up in flames.
Those who escaped to shore found a line of de Velt men, led by Cole, waiting for them.
Bodies littered the rocky ground, the shallows of the river, and even up the sides of the hill upon which the castle was perched, not only from the Northmen, but from the Scots who tried to use the river to re-take the castle in the same fashion Cole had.
Only they’d been unsuccessful at it.
After seven long days of fighting, the worst was over. Berwick was still standing and the English still had control of it. But the mess of the battle, and the far-reaching implications, would last for months and probably years to come.
William the Rough had already taken what remained of his army back towards Edinburgh, and that included the remnants that belonged to the Earls of Orkney. They had been decimated. Of thirteen longships that had tried to come ashore, all of them had been burned in some fashion. Only one was remotely seaworthy, and Caius had control of that one. They were using it to keep the captives, like a floating prison, and there were plenty of prisoners this time around. There was talk of setting it on fire and sending it out to sea like a good Viking funeral.
Jax was in favor of that, and so was Caius and many of the other commanders, but The Marshal thought that might be a little too barbaric. However, when dealing with Executioner Knights and The Dark Lord, there were no limits to their barbaric ideals.
Even The Marshal knew that.
On the sixth day of the battle, the reinforcements had arrived with armies headed by Gart Forbes, Cullen de Nerra, and Kevin de Lara from the Marches. The bulk of David de Lohr’s army from Canterbury was just a few days behind. New, fresh troops relieved those who had been fighting for six long days, which is why the battle wound up so quickly by the seventh day. The Scots were exhausted, but they didn’t have the reinforcements that the English did, so on this seventh day, nearly every part of what had been a nasty and prolonged fight was subdued.
Finally, the dawn of a new day signaled the end of the Scots and Northmen invasion.
For now.
“And what does the future hold for us all?” Addax asked in reply to Cole’s statement. “Now that Berwick has held and it is in the hands of the English, what now?”
Cole looked at his friend, a man he’d been close to for two years. “What do you mean?”
Addax lifted his shoulders. “Just that,” he said, looking around at the utter mess surrounding them. “Your mission is over, Cole. So is mine and my brother’s. What do we do now? Return to your father’s service along with Julian? Or do we find our adventure elsewhere?”
Cole smiled faintly. “I’ll have plenty of adventure here,” he said. “I am going to take a new wife and become the garrison commander for Berwick, as it now belongs to my father. Well, The Marshal thinks it belongs to him, but my father is not going to relinquish this prize, so I will be entrusted with it as a neutral party since I serve them both. The castle is mine. Julian is to go to Foulburn, my outpost, and assume command. With the Scots active, my father wants to make sure it is a fortified position.”
Addax grinned at Julian for what was largely a promotion before slapping Cole on the shoulder. “I am proud of you, my friend,” he said. “Garrison commander of this mighty bastion is a proud thing, indeed. Do you need a second in command?”
He meant him and Cole laughed softly. “I would not have it any other way,” he said. “Will you join me here? Es, too. If we can stand him.”
Essien was standing several feet away, listening to the chatter, but he didn’t seem very attentive to it. In fact, he seemed weary and morose, which was not like him at all. Essien was always the life of any gathering, even if it was just a couple of men speaking of the future. But not today.
Both Cole and Addax looked at him.
“Why so gloomy?” Addax asked. “You have been perfectly fine all morning until you went off to run missives for The Marshal. What in the world did the man say to you that has you so woeful?”
Essien shook his head, trying to perk himself up. “Nothing,” he said. “I am simply weary, like everyone else. It has been a long few days.”
Addax nodded firmly. “Long days of killing the Scots,” he said. “Truly, the bombardment of the longships that tried to reach the castle was a masterful stroke. I’ve never seen such skill, Cole. You are to be commended.”
Cole was modest. “It was not easy, that is for certain,” he said. “None of it would have happened had Julian not raided the entire town for barrels and oil. But the calculations of launching those barrels from the catapults so they could land on the ships was terribly difficult. I missed a few times.”
“But you hit when it mattered,” Addax reminded him, pointing to the burned-out hulls. “Here are the results of your skill. You are brilliant.”
Cole lifted his eyebrows. “Aye, I am,” he said. “And Lady Corisande is a very fortunate woman.”
“Indeed, she is,” Addax agreed. “When is the wedding?”
Cole shrugged. “I told her when this battle was over, so as soon as possible, I should think,” he said. “When the Scots backed away from Berwick two days ago, I was able to break away to see her, but I’ve not seen her since and as much as I love the three of you, I love her more,
so I am going to find my betrothed and spend some much-needed time with her.”
Julian slapped him on the arm. “Go,” he said. “Meanwhile, we’ll start organizing men to clean up this shoreline, so we need to find some men to help. Everyone has been concentrated at the mouth of the river, but we need to start cleaning up this area, too.”
Cole started to move towards the stumpy tower that led to the stairs up the wall. “You’ll have to ask Sherry where he can spare men,” he said. “He is in command of the clean-up after the battle. He’ll assign some men to help.”
Julian followed him, as did Addax. “And you will not help us?” Julian asked. “When you are done with your lady-love, that is.”
Cole turned to glare at his brother. “Nay,” he said flatly. “I have done enough, making sure these ships were burned to the waterline. The least you can do is clean up my mess while I go on to more relaxing pursuits. Like Cori.”
Julian chuckled. “She will be very glad to see you.”
Cole could only smile. Anything that had to do with Corisande had him smiling. It had indeed been a long seven days, and he’d only been able to see her once for a very short time during that period, so he was anxious to go to her. It was all he’d been dreaming of. He was just heading up the stairs when he noticed that Essien was still down on the shore. He was moving, but not very quickly.
Cole paused.
“Es!” he shouted. “What are you doing? Are you coming with us?”
Essien nodded and ran to catch up with them. But the moment his foot hit the bottom step, he came to a stop.
“Cole, wait,” he said.
Cole came to a halt with Julian and Addax behind him, all of them turning to Essien. “What is it?” Cole asked.
Essien took a deep breath and peered up at him. “I… I need to speak with you.”
“What about?”
“Something I heard when I was running missives for The Marshal earlier today.”
“What did you hear?”
Essien sighed heavily and hung his head for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Come… come down here, please,” he said. “I do not want to shout at you.”
Cole, Julian, and Addax looked at each other, shrugged, and came back down the stairs so they were standing next to Essien at the very bottom.
“I am here,” Cole said. “What is so important?”
Essien scratched his head. “You know I would never lie to you, Cole.”
“I know.”
“And what I am about to tell you is the truth, as I heard it.”
“And?”
“And I heard something today that I think you must know,” he said. “Even if it is only malicious gossip, it must be addressed.”
“What is it?”
Essien took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “You know I’d never say something unless I felt it was important,” he said, clearly hesitant. “But… well, the soldiers who were captured along with Lady Corisande and Lady Gaia have been… talking. I have heard that they have been telling others that we did not save the ladies. They said that the English captives were already being returned to England when we ambushed the Scots and killed them.”
Cole didn’t seem to see anything shattering about that. “I do not see that as a concern,” he said. “In fact, it would make sense because when we found them, they were moving south. We thought they were moving the women to another location to keep them hostage, but it is equally possible they were taking them back to England. But my question would be why? Why would they do that?”
Essien closed his eyes a moment before looking at him. “The soldiers are saying because Lady Corisande traded favors with the Scots commander for their freedom,” he said quietly. “That is why they were being released.”
Cole didn’t quite understand. “Traded favors?” he said. “What favors?”
“Cole, she gave herself over to the commander,” Essien said quietly, making it clear. “She let the man bed her as a condition for their release. She was seen going into his tent, alone, and the next morning, they were released.”
Cole’s eyes flew open wide when he finally realized what he was saying. “Those men are saying that?” he hissed.
Essien nodded, disgusted with the entire situation. “They are,” he said miserably. “The rumors have been going around camp for several days, evidently, only we heard nothing about it because we’ve been sealed up at Berwick Castle. But I heard it today when I was running missives.”
Cole stared at him a moment and they could see that his cheeks were turning a dull shade of red. “It’s not true,” he said hoarsely. “It is not possibly true.”
Essien lifted his shoulders. “True or not, that is what they are saying, Cole. Surely there has to be another explanation other than the idle gossip of vicious tongues.”
Cole continued to stare at him, processing what he’d been told. Something was building in him, something explosive. Perhaps even something uncontrollable. Those two-colored eyes took on a terrifying gleam. Without another word, he turned back to the stairwell and began racing up the steep stairs. After a split second, Julian followed.
Essien called after them.
“I am sorry, Cole!” he shouted. “I thought you should know!”
Cole didn’t answer. He just kept running. Distraught, Essien turned to Addax, who simply shook his head with pure, unadulterated disgust.
“I had to tell him,” Essien insisted. “He had to know.”
Addax nodded. “I know,” he said, greatly disheartened by the whole situation. “Come on. Let’s follow him to make sure he does not kill anyone.”
The brothers followed.
Corisande was stirring a giant iron pot filled with boiling water as Gaia gingerly tossed bloodied and soiled linen bandages into it.
It was not her favorite task.
“Gaia, watch what you are doing,” Corisande scolded. “We do not want to toss the bandages into the fire.”
Gaia was absolutely disgusted. She held up a linen bandage by the very edge, soiled with something green, and shrieked.
“It smells!” she cried.
“Then do not smell it,” Corisande said impatiently. “Just put it in the pot.”
Making a terrible face, she tossed the bandage into the pot as Corisande stirred. “This is awful work,” she said unhappily. “Why can’t someone else do this?”
“Because you are doing it. I have asked this of you.”
Gaia was pouting. Looking around their encampment, she was trying to think of something that wasn’t disgusting, smelly, or awful. She eyed her sister unhappily.
“Then let me stir the pot,” she said. “You can toss in the soiled linen.”
“Gladly,” Corisande said, rolling her eyes as Gaia took over with the big stick. “That’s right; stir it boldly. You have to make sure that all of the poison on the bandages comes off.”
Gaia was trying to stir and stand back from the flames at the same time. “It’s hot!”
Corisande grunted unhappily at her sister’s complaining. Everything she did was something to complain about and it was becoming frustrating. “Stir,” she commanded. “Keep stirring. I will go check on the men and bring back more soiled bandages.”
While Gaia whimpered and whined, Corisande headed off to check on her sick and injured men.
Behind the de Bourne encampment, she had a large tent set up and several lesser shelters, with canvas strung up over poles to create shelter from the sky and the elements. The more badly wounded men were in the tent while the lesser wounded were under the canvas, carefully tended to by Corisande and several of the old soldiers who had been captured at the same time she and Gaia had been. At least, the ones that hadn’t been too badly injured in that event.
It made for an efficient hospital.
In fact, Corisande had the most organized hospital out of all of the armies. She had even taken in men who were too badly wounded from other armies because she seemed to know what to
do. She’d done some horrifying battlefield surgery on several men, but due to her skill, she’d only lost two of them. The rest were in various stages of healing, although a few of them were still bad off.
She was keeping a close eye on them.
Her first stop was the tent to check on those with the more terrible wounds. They were stable and she was grateful. One man was missing the lower part of his right leg and poison threatened, so she was bandaging him with clean linen every couple of hours. She went to him to check up on him, pleased to see that he seemed a little stronger. She had one of her helpers remove the bandages and she took them away as her helper wrapped the stump with fresh boiled linen.
As Corisande came out of the tent and headed over to the pot where Gaia was stirring, she happened to see Cole and Julian entering the de Bourne encampment. A smile came to her face at the sight of Cole. It had been two days since she’d last seen him and the mere sight did her heart good. He was still safe, and whole, and that was all she cared about. She dumped the dirty bandages into the pot as he entered the wounded area.
“Greetings, my lord,” she said sweetly. “It is good to see you on this fine day. I’ve heard the battle is mostly over. How is the castle holding?”
He marched up on her with the strangest look in his eyes. Not only did he not greet her, he also didn’t make any move to touch her. Not a hug or a kiss.
Nothing.
He just stood there, looking at her.
“I am going to ask you a question and you will tell me the absolute truth,” he finally said, sounding strangely tight. “Do you understand?”
Julian, right beside him, put a hand on his brother’s arm. “Cole, please,” he muttered. “Be calm. Be…”
Cole roughly shook off his brother’s hand. “Get away from me, Julian,” he growled. “This does not concern you.”
Julian knew that tone. He knew better than to argue. With a heavy sigh, he wandered away, leaving Corisande greatly confused by Cole’s manner.
Her smile faded.
The Dark Spawn (Battle Lords of de Velt Book 5) Page 34