Choose the Sky: A Medieval Romance (Swordcross Knights Book 2) (23 page)

She took an unsteady breath, and almost pitched forward, except that Ancel was suddenly beside her, pulling her back.

“Hold on, my lady,” he warned.

“No!” she shouted, her voice carrying across the field. She pointed at the archer nearest her. “You! Aim for the one in the red cloak down there! The one coming after Luc from behind!”

* * * *

Luc heard a voice float over the wind and he instinctively turned his head to find the source. Up on the northern wall, he saw the unmistakable red-haired figure of Domina, looking like a fury as she directed the soldiers to carry out some order.

“Gesu,” he swore. Did the woman not understand the meaning of staying safe behind locked walls?

Then the archer closest to Domina seemed to take aim right at Luc. An arrow flew toward him—no, behind him. Luc spun his horse about just in time to see the real target of the shot, a man in a red cloak. He wore a helmet with a heavy face guard, which concealed the details of his identity.

The man barely dodged the arrow, but he swore in frustration; he’d clearly been going for Luc and now the element of surprise was lost.

He and Luc stared at each other for a long moment. Then the man in the red cloak wheeled his own horse around and fled through the various groups of fighting men.

That was all Luc needed to know.

“Tav!” he shouted. “I’m for the man in red. That’s the leader!”

Octavian looked over, and nodded. “I’ll clear the way.”

Tav let out a yell and charged forward. The sight of a brown-skinned knight on a warhorse, howling a crusader’s war cry in Latin and bearing a sword was enough to make most soldiers think that either God or the Devil was coming for them. Tav scattered most of the infantry in his path. Those who stood their ground regretted it. Tav’s momentum and the edge of his blade made quick work of them. Luc followed him, dispatching the few remaining soldiers in the way.

The leader in the red cloak didn’t rise to the occasion. Instead he howled for his group to retreat and then spurred his own horse into the woods.

Luc directed his horse to follow. There was no way he’d let some idiot attack and then run away.

Luc’s focus on the leader made him less alert to the surrounding chaos than he should have been. One of the remaining mounted soldiers rushed him from the side. Luc barely deflected the blow the other man leveled at him.

“You go for the back as well?” Luc snarled in contempt.

His comment seemed to surprise his attacker, for he didn’t quite parry the thrust Luc aimed at him. Luc’s sword slashed into the man’s unprotected neck.

He gurgled in shock and then slid off his horse.

Luc didn’t stay to admire his handiwork. He nudged his own horse and continued after the fleeing leader.

“Haldan!” he yelled.

An old trick, but still useful.

Instinctively, the man in red turned back on hearing his name. Luc caught sight of his face, which was familiar, including the long, angry looking scar that slashed across it, the result of Mina’s furious defense when he attacked her.

The scar fit his expression well. He was angry at being tricked, and angry that the day wasn’t going as planned.

Luc rode faster, dodging the few trees between them. “Stand and fight me, you coward,” he called.

Haldan hesitated, as if truly considering Luc’s challenge. But when Luc pressed forward again, closing the gap between them, Haldan made his choice.

He gave a shout of frustration and turned, putting all his effort into making his horse flee.

Luc prepared to give chase, but a voice calling him from behind drew him up short.

Octavian hailed him from where he’d stopped, and Luc wheeled his horse about. Haldan could wait.

“They were starting a fire,” Octavian said, pointing to the evidence. “Looks like the catapult didn’t work as well as they hoped. They were going to shoot flaming arrows over the walls. It might have caused quite a difficulty inside if anything caught fire.”

“Our opponent seems to have a predilection for burning things,” Luc said. “I’ll have to keep that in mind when I get my hands on him.”

“One of these men might be able to tell you more about that,” Tav said, using French this time. He pointed to three soldiers who were lying on the ground, very still, with their hands visible. A few men from the garrison then bound them.

“Walk them up to the castle,” said Octavian. “Lock them up. We’ll question them later. If they resist, kill them,” he added matter-of-factly.

Octavian lowered his sword, looking toward Luc. “What would we have done if the wood hadn’t been cut down?”

Luc shook his head. “No sense wondering. It’s clear they expected the concealment to still be there. I’m glad we thwarted the attack.”

The ache in his back began to worsen, and he felt a sense of vertigo. Lord, he was out of shape if a little sally like this could tire him out. “I think it’s time to return to the castle.” He swung his horse around, momentarily facing away from Tav.

“Wait,” Tav said in a low voice.

“What now?”

Tav rode up next to him and put a hand on his back. Luc winced. “That’s right where I ache!”

“No wonder.” Tav lift his hand up—his fingers were red. “The mail’s been severed. You’re bleeding.”

“That explains it,” Luc muttered, then slumped forward onto the horse’s neck.

The injured men had all
been gathered in the great hall. Most managed to walk there under their own power, but six of them lay near the largest fireplace in varying degrees of pain, all covered with a mix of blood, smoke, and dirt.

Ban, one of the men in Luc’s entourage, was on his feet, and as soon as he saw Constance, he rushed over to her, speaking to her in a low voice. Constance nodded several times, a blush spreading over her face.

Mina was glad something good came out of the horrible day. Then she caught sight of something that made all other thoughts fly out of her head.

Luc had been laid out on his stomach, because of the horrible wound in his back.

“Oh, my God,” Mina gasped. She stumbled toward him, sinking to her knees beside him.

Eva stood frozen a few feet away, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide.

“My lady.” The voice was Octavian’s. He knelt by Mina. “It’s not as dire as it looks, but he needs attention now.”

“Yes.” Mina nodded, but didn’t move, too overwhelmed to think.

Octavian put one hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently. “
Now
,” he repeated. “Tell us what to do.”

That snapped her to attention. She looked around the hall, at the most gravely injured and the crowd of others.

She rose to her feet, with Octavian’s hand now at her elbow.

Domina pointed to the men with minor wounds. “Margery, Constance. Tend to anyone whose injuries you know how to dress. Use hot water. Clean each wound and use clean bandages, as I’ve shown you. Come to me with questions.”

The women nodded.

“Eva, can you help them?”

The woman nodded, her eyes still locked on her brother’s form.

Mina looked to Beatrice, the older maid who’d seen more blood than any of them. “Beatrice, the five men lying here are under your care. Octavian, will you assist her? Some of the men will be too heavy for her to shift alone.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Mina nodded. “Very good. As for Luc, I want him carried to his bedchamber immediately. I will tend to him there. Bring water and bandages up, along with ointment.”

She clapped her hands loudly. “Move!”

Everyone started to obey, going about the tasks she assigned. Mina turned to Giles. “I know not what Luc has ordered regarding the castle’s defenses, but I now ask you to carry it out. Keep watch from the walls. Use whoever you need—men, women, children. I don’t care. But use as many eyes as you can. I want no more surprises today.”

“Yes, my lady.”

A short while later, Domina led a few men who carried a groaning Luc up the stairs to the bedchamber. She pointed to the space in front of the fire. “There, on the rug. Set him down gently.”

Two maids entered. One bore a basin of steaming water, and the other carried a basket full of cloth for bandages.

“Put them down by the fire,” Domina directed them. “Tell the footmen to bring up more hot water as soon as enough has been boiled.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The men hovered uncertainly. “Do you have orders now, my lady?”

“Yes. Go to the great hall and make yourselves useful, or find Octavian and ask for further instruction.”

“We could send for a doctor.”

“I am his wife,” Domina said firmly. “It is my duty to care for my lord and husband. Leave us.”

They left.

Domina turned to Luc, who was actually attempting to sit up.

“Stop that,” she ordered. “You’ll move when I tell you.” Yelling at him felt good. It felt normal.

Luc gave up his efforts to rise. “How bad is it?”

“That is what I am going to find out. Lay still, my lord.”

“Don’t call me that when I’m bleeding to death, Mina.”

“You’re not bleeding to death. It looks as if the blood flow has already slowed. What you need is to have your wound cleaned and bandaged.”

“Domina, you should not have to see this.”

“You have little choice in the matter, my lord.”

The cut was not nearly as bad as she feared. It was shallow, and most of the ugliness was due to the clotted blood and angry bruising around the cut itself. Apparently, Luc’s mail armor had done its job, taking most of the impact before breaking.

She wet a cloth in hot water and began to clean the wound, starting at the shoulder. He flinched when the hot cloth touched flesh.

“I am sorry,” she said, putting one hand to his unharmed shoulder to steady him. “But it is imperative to clean the cut well, or it may fester and give you a fever…or worse.”

He only nodded. Domina continued to clean the wound, working as quickly as she dared. Soon, the basin water was dark and filthy, but the cut looked clean.

The door opened. A footman bore another basin, this one with steaming fresh water. Domina nodded gratefully. “Please put it right down here. Take the old water and dump it somewhere far from the kitchens.”

“Yes, my lady.” The man picked up the old bowl and hurried out.

“The cut is a long but narrow one, fortunately,” she said to Luc. “Once bandaged, it should knit well.”

“Then bandage it,” he said shortly.

“Not quite yet.” Domina opened a jar of ointment.

He was watching as best he could. “What’s that?” he asked suspiciously.

“Something to help the skin heal. It’s not poison!”

“I didn’t say it was.” But his expression was doubtful.

“Ugh! Such a baby!” Domina took a bit on her finger and licked it off. “See? If it were poisoned, I wouldn’t dare eat it.”

“I trust you, Mina,” he said. He reached out to take her wrist. He brought her hand closer and inhaled the scent of the ointment. Domina held very still, all too aware of the strength in his arm. He took his time in studying the greenish ointment on her finger.

“Certainly, the stuff has not harmed your skin.”

Domina tried to pretend that she didn’t enjoy the compliment, or the stroke of his finger on her pulse. He inhaled again, slowly. “It smells good. What’s in it?”

“Comfrey and yarrow, macerated in honey. They are all quite beneficial.”

“Sounds delicious.” With no warning, he drew her finger to his mouth and sucked the ointment off.

Mina gasped in shock. Why did that feel so good? His tongue teased the pad of her finger, and he looked quite content to simply stay there, suckling.

“Give me my hand back, my lord.”

“Luc,” he said softly.

She used the single word to snatch her finger back from his open mouth. “You must have hit your head as well. You’re acting mad.”

“Not acting,” he said, the words a little slurred. He had the audacity to smile.

Domina applied the ointment to Luc’s cut, then helped him to sit up. She wrapped thin strips of cloth over his left shoulder and underneath his right arm. She tied the two ends of the cloth at his chest, kneeling in front of him to do so. “After a day or two, this won’t be necessary. But you shouldn’t tax yourself until the edges of the cut knit together.”

“You are a very good nurse, Domina.” His face was close to her, his eyes disconcertingly bright. He was not incoherent nor unaware of what was happening. She knew what that looked like.

“As you know, I’ve had much practice,” she muttered, looking at the floor.

He caught her chin and made her look at him, their faces on a level. “I am grateful, Domina.”

She stood up, looking away from him. “It is my duty,” she said, ignoring the little voice in her heart, the one that reminded her how terrified she’d been when she thought he might be killed.

Mina tried to make him lie down on the bed to rest for a while, but he insisted on being dressed so he could go down to the hall and see what was happening.

“You’re not dressing till you bathe,” she told him.

“I can’t bathe with half of me bandaged,” he argued. “All your work would be wasted.”

Domina glanced at the last bowl of clean, hot water. “Very well. Sit down. I’ll wash you as best I can.”