Dragonblade Trilogy - 01 - Dragonblade (33 page)

“What is it you want
from me?” she finally asked. “I cannot tell you anything of value.”

“You may tell me who
you really are and why you were at Harbottle.”

She shifted slightly,
sending waves of pain through her body.  With a sharp intake of breath, she
waited for the pain to subside. Roger watched her intently.

“I have sent for my
physic,” he said quietly. “He will attend you once you have told me your name.”

She opened her watery
eyes, outraged. “So you withhold care until I have told you what you want to
know? What kind of barbarian are you that you would treat a woman in this
manner?”

“You were found
leaving Harbottle Castle and, until I know otherwise, considered an enemy,” he
leaned towards her, his brown eyes intense. “You struck a bargain with me; my
name for yours. So far, I have proven to be the only one trustworthy between
the two of us.”

She studied him a
moment, realizing he was correct. Turning away from him, she closed her eyes as
she spoke.

“I am the Lady
Elizabetha Cartingdon de Lara,” she whispered. “I was at Harbottle because it
is my husband’s holding.”

Roger stared at her,
already knowing the answer but struck to hear it from her lips.  He could not
have a more valuable captive if Edward himself was lying in front of him.

“So the rumor was
true,” he murmured. “Dragonblade’s wife in the flesh.”

Toby didn’t reply; her
eyes were still closed as if to ignore him.  Roger’s gaze lingered on her a
moment before he spoke louder. “Where is your husband, my lady?”

She shook her head
weakly. “I do not know. Hopefully he is well away from you.”

“So he would leave his
wife alone to suffer? That does not speak well for your husband.”

Her eyes opened, the
hazel orbs flashing. “You will not speak ill of him. He has a duty to Edward
and, God willing, he is doing his duty.”

Roger regarded her a
moment, inspecting the lines of her lovely face, seeing great strength in her.
He had been told how she led a dozen of his men on a wild goose chase and,
frankly, expected no less from de Lara’s wife. He actually found it amusing.
Rising to his feet, he suddenly disappeared from the tent.

Toby continued to lay
still, closing her eyes and feeling the warm tears trickle down her cheeks. She
regretted that she told him her identity and was glad she had all in the same
breath. Perhaps now he would send someone to help her. Either that or he would
send someone to kill her. Lying still and pale upon the pallet, she await
whatever sentence Mortimer was to bring upon her. She was at his mercy.

She did not have long
to wait. She was almost asleep again when she heard the tent flap pull back and
bodies enter the shelter. She was in so much pain that she did not bother
looking. 

“Here is your lady,”
she heard Roger say. “Her story is the same as yours. And because you have been
truthful with me, I will permit you to stay with her for now. But have no doubt
that you and I shall have another talk very soon.”

Toby heard his words,
struggling to open her eyes. Next she realized, a big hand was on her forehead
and she opened her eyes only to look up into a familiar, well-beaten face.

Kenneth was gazing
down at her, looking as if he had been beaten within an inch of his life. One
eye was grossly swollen and his lip was split and bloodied. One look at him and
Toby burst into soft sobs.

“Oh, Sir Kenneth,” she
wept. “What have they done to you?”

He shushed her softly.
“It looks far worse than it is, my lady,” he said quietly.  “The bigger
question is what have they done to you? I am told that you are injured.”

Her eyes closed again
as if to ward of the throbbing pain in her torso. “Someone knocked me off the
horse,” she murmured, tears spilling down her temples. “I think I broke
something when I fell.”

Kenneth’s jaw ticked
as his gaze moved down her torso. “Where does it hurt?”

“My ribs.”

“A sharp pain?”

“Very sharp.”

He grunted. “You
probably broke a few. Can you breathe well enough?”

“It hurts if I take a
deep breath but for the most part, I can breathe.”

“Good,” he moved to
peel her cloak away. “Hopefully nothing has been punctured. Although I am not Stephen,
I have tended my share of wounds. Would you allow me examine you?”

She nodded faintly and
he proceeded to pull the heavy woolen cloak away. A simple woolen surcoat and
heavy linen shift lay beneath but he did not remove them; instead, he began to
gently push on her torso until he reached a tender area and she gasped.

“I am sorry,” he said
sincerely. “But I must see if I can feel the bones moving.”

She nodded, eyes
closed, and turned her head as far away from him as it would go. Kenneth pushed
a few times on the area in question, listening to her groan softly, knowing she
was enduring excruciating pain. He’d had a few cracked ribs himself and knew
how painful it could be. Finally, he removed his hands.

“Well,” he said
softly. “I do not believe anything has separated. I can feel the fractures but
the bones are still intact. You will be all right once they heal.”

Toby did nothing more
but nod; she was exhausted and in extreme pain. She could feel Kenneth as he
gently wrapped her back up in her cloak. Then he sat beside her in silence
because she could feel the heat from his enormous body. For the longest time,
neither one of them moved. They lingered in dim, uncertain silence.

“What are you doing
here?” she finally asked, opening her eyes and turning to look at him. “Why did
you not go with Tate?”

Kenneth cocked an
eyebrow at her. “Because someone had to come after you to protect you from the
hordes of Mortimer’s men bent on capturing you,” he said. Then he held up a
finger. “And just so you and I are perfectly clear, if you do anything like
that ever again, I will blister your backside, husband or no husband.”

He wasn’t serious and
she knew it. Unwinding a hand from the cloak, she reached out and grasped his
thick fingers. It was comforting. Kenneth, the man made of stone, squeezed her
hand tightly.

“But it was also one
of the most courageous acts I have ever witnessed,” his scolding softened
considerably. “It was an honor to have been a part of it.”

“How did they capture
you?” she whispered.

He patted her hand.
“They did not exactly capture me.”

“What happened?”

He sighed, unsure how
much to tell her. He opted for all of it for there was no point in keeping it
secret. “I was too late to help you; by the time I came upon you and the men in
pursuit, they had already captured you. At that point, I had a choice of either
returning to Tate to tell him what had happened or offering myself as a hostage
so that I could stay with you during your captivity.  I chose the latter.”

“Why on earth would
you do that?”

“Because your husband
made you my responsibility. You are caught up in something bigger than you can
comprehend. I did not want you to face Mortimer alone.”

She squeezed his hand
again. “But they beat you.”

He waved her off. “If
you think I look bad, you should see the men who did this. Trust me when I say
that at least eight of them are far worse off than I.”

He sounded rather
proud of himself and she peered more closely at him, thinking he seemed amused
by it all. Kenneth was an enormously broad man and she had no doubt he could do
a substantial amount of damage. But he was enjoying it. She sighed with
disapproval.

“You should have
returned to Tate,” she told him. “He will not know what has happened to us.”

Kenneth’s amused
expression faded. “He will know soon enough,” he said quietly. “I am sure that
Mortimer is even now sending word.”

Toby stared up at him
and Kenneth could see the thoughts rolling through her head. The tears were
gone and she suddenly looked very serious.

“So Tate was correct,”
she said softly. “The remnants of the forces that attacked Harbottle two days
ago were waiting for reinforcements.”

Kenneth nodded slowly.
“Tate is usually correct. But it did not take a great military genius to deduce
that a larger, more substantial force was on its way to Harbottle.  Once Edward
had been located, it was just a matter of time. Mortimer has been trailing us
for two years.”

“So the man that spoke
to me earlier really was Roger Mortimer?”

“Aye.”

She fell silent a
moment. “Sir Kenneth,” she ventured hesitantly. “I am going to ask you a
question and you must swear to be entirely truthful with me.”

“Of course, my lady.”

“I have made a mess of
things, have I not?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mortimer is going to
send word to Tate that he has me as a hostage. Tate will want me back.”

Kenneth suspected what
she was driving at. “He will undoubtedly negotiate for your return.”

“There is nothing he
can negotiate with except Edward. And he will not turn the king over to
Mortimer, not even for me. I would not want him to.”

Kenneth gazed at her a
moment before averting his eyes, looking down at her hand as it held his. “It
is possible that Mortimer will ask for Edward in exchange for you.”

Toby’s grip tightened
and her hazel eyes were unnaturally hard. “This cannot happen, Kenneth. We must
not put Tate in a position where he must choose between me and Edward.”

“It may not come to
that. Tate is very skilled at negotiating; we must wait and see what
transpires. Do not give up hope.”

She sighed heavily and
looked away. The tears were returning and she closed her eyes tightly, trying
to stave them off. “I should not have run from Harbottle,” she whispered
tightly. “I should have stayed where you told me to and I should not have
moved. Perhaps we all would have gotten away safely had I not interfered.”

Kenneth squeezed her
hand again. “Lady, had you not fled when you did, Tate and Edward would have
been discovered by two dozen men who would have quite eagerly speared Tate at
the end of a broadsword and taken Edward a captive. What you did… you saved
their lives.  I believe you saved all of our lives. Do not question your
bravery.”

Her eyes opened and
she turned to look at him. “Do you really think so?” she sniffed.

He nodded, the
ice-blue eyes oddly warm. Kenneth was not the warm type. “I do indeed,” he said
quietly. “So you must not despair. We will all get through this. You must trust
that Tate will do what is right.”

“But I am afraid.”

“I know. But do not
give up hope.”

The tent flap suddenly
moved again, issuing forth a small man with thinning blond hair. Icy air blew
in after him, rattling the tent. The man was clad in heavy robes and held a big
satchel in one hand. Kenneth was on his feet, placing his massive body between
Toby and the new entrant.

“What is your business
here?” the knight demanded.

The man was diminutive
and meek, quite intimidated by Kenneth’s hulking presence. “I am the surgeon,”
he said in a soft, high-pitched voice. “My name is Timothy. I have been sent to
help the lady.”

Kenneth eyed him as if
by sheer glare he could crush the man, but the little surgeon had yet to fade.
Gradually, the knight moved aside to allow him access. The little man kept a
close eye on Kenneth as he scooted to the lady’s side, setting his heavy bag
down.

“She has at least
three broken ribs that I can assess,” Kenneth said. “There is nothing to do but
wrap her tightly so they will heal.”

Timothy St. Maur had
been Roger Mortimer’s physic for three years. He was a former priest, as many
of them were, who had a gift for healing. The fact that he was a consecrated
priest had oft come in handy when giving last rites to patients he could not
save. But the small lady lying before him didn’t seem to be in need of that
particular talent.

Toby opened her eyes
when she felt the man beside her. He was small and pale. She watched him as he
opened his bag and rummaged around in it. He pulled out a strange device that
looked as if it was two wooden cones with some sort of leather string in
between. She began to watch him more curiously as he rubbed at the cones.

“What is that?” she
asked.

The young physic
smiled. “This is my listening tube,” he told her. When she looked worried, he
held it up so she could examine it.  “See? The cones magnify the sounds that
travel through this leather tube. I will be able to hear many things from your
body to determine your health.”

She looked dubious.
“What do you do with it?”

Timothy gestured to
her torso. “May I?”   

She frowned. “May you
what
?”

“Demonstrate, of
course.”

          She looked
up at Kenneth, who shrugged faintly. Toby reasoned that as long as Kenneth was
standing nearby, no harm would come to her. Reluctantly, she nodded.