Page 72 of King’s Knight

Merewyn took Guy’s place.

Guy returned with their horses and accepted the weight of Alex from her shoulder.

“We can take him,” Rory said to Merewyn and the two of them began to help Alex toward the horses.

“Wait!” They stopped and she tore a strip from the hem of her undertunic and bent to Alex’s leg. Placing a wad of cloth against the wound, she wrapped a long length around his leg and tied it tightly. “Mayhap it will staunch the blood.”

“My thanks, my lady,” said Alex in a weak voice.

With Alex between them, Rory and Guy helped Alex into his saddle, his face contorting with pain as they did. He was growing weaker with the loss of blood. The bandage she had made for him was already leaking the crimson fluid.

Rory helped her mount Ceinder and then he and Guy swung into their saddles and flanked Alex as they rode toward Chester. She thanked God it was only a few miles away.

“Owain was kind,” she said to their backs.

“What do you mean?” asked Rory. “He shot Alex. I would hardly call that kind.”

“Owain never misses. Had he meant to kill you, Alex, you would be dead. He only wanted to slow your advance.”

Alex huffed. “ ’Twould have done him no good.”

CHAPTER 14

Still in her archer’s clothing, Merewyn paced in front of the door to Alex’s chamber, chewing nervously on her knuckle, while Countess Ermentrude patiently waited beside her. On the other side of the door, the earl’s physic was tending to Alex’s leg, which was still bleeding when they arrived at the castle.

Rory and Guy were allowed to stay with Alex, but Merewyn was escorted to the corridor. “I would go in,” said Merewyn to the older woman who had been gracious in admitting them to the castle a short time before.

“ ’Tis not fitting that you should be in Sir Alex’s chamber while the physic examines his wound.”

“My friend, Lora, tends all manner of wounds,” she argued. “She is more knowledgeable about herbs than anyone at Talisand, save only her mother. Lora often gives the wounded a mixture of hemlock, wormwood and henbane in wine for the pain and to help them sleep.”

Lady Ermentrude patted her arm. “Our physic also uses such herbs. Cease your worry. It will not be long now.”

A few moments later, the door opened and the physic emerged to speak to the countess. “I have cleaned and bandaged the wound and given him a potion for the pain. He may not long be awake, but you may go in.”

“Will he be all right?” Merewyn inquired anxiously.

“Yea, but he needs rest,” said the older man. “The wound must not be allowed to mortify.”

Merewyn thanked him and hastened through the door with the countess following. Alex’s two friends looked at her from where they stood on the far side of the bed. Her eyes were drawn to Alex, who lay with his right leg on top of the cover, his calf wrapped in bandages.

As soon as he saw her, he gave her a faint smile. It was clear he was already feeling the effects of the potion.

She went to sit on the edge of the bed and took his hand. “You look pale. How do you feel?”

“I am told I will survive. ’Tis only a scratch.” She knew better, of course, and a quick glance at Rory’s troubled countenance confirmed the wound could prove dangerous.

She squeezed Alex’s hand. “I do not imagine you will like it, but you are to rest.”

Alex shrugged off her counsel and his gaze met that of Lady Ermentrude standing behind her. “Thank you, my lady, for your hospitality.”

Lady Ermentrude stepped forward. “I am just glad you were close enough that we could help. Besides, to have three handsome knights and a young woman who plays chess as my guests is an unexpected delight. My children are all on their own and with the earl and his senior knights away, the castle seems empty. Who was it, by the way, who shot you with that arrow?”

“A Welshman, alone in the woods,” Alex said, shooting a glance at Merewyn. “I should have been more wary.”

On the other side of the bed, Rory and Guy looked down at the floor, saying nothing. Merewyn was relieved Alex and his friends had not named Owain as the one who had wounded Alex, for it would only make him a target of the earl’s wrath, already kindled against the Welsh.

“They are not usually so close to Chester,” said the countess. “Even now the earl and his cousin are chasing the Welsh deeper into their mountains.”