Текст книги "In Love with a Warrior"

Автор книги: Kara Griffin

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Chapter Twenty

Emlyn sat upon the horse with a soldier behind her, effectually holding the bounds tied around her wrists. The position was uncomfortable, but she’d bear it. None of the soldiers spoke to her, and she was unsure who they were. They did not claim to be Marshall’s men.

She grew concerned for James and couldn’t see him unless she turned, but her bounds made that impossible. They’d ridden for two full days and finally reached their destination. She didn’t know where they headed, but she realized they’d gone south, by the placement of the setting sun and rising moon.

They had only traveled far enough south to be near the border of England. The castle ahead appeared busy and Emlyn hoped with all her heart that Marshall wasn’t in residence. The soldier who held her dismounted and pulled her off the horse. She stood awaiting directions when he poked her back. She had enough time to look behind her and spied James.

Two soldiers held his arms and drug him forward. The pain at seeing him treated so, hurt deeply. She wanted to yell at the soldiers, but resisted.

As she entered the castle, she was taken to a chamber on the second floor. James must have been taken elsewhere because as soon as she entered the chamber her hands were unbound and she was given her satchel.

“We checked it. There’s nothing in it but garments,” one of the soldiers said to the man standing next to her. He set it on the floor next to where she stood.

“Where am I? Why have you taken us?”

The man didn’t answer but went to peer out the window casement. “You’ll not try to escape, my lady. It’s a long way down and you’ll break your lovely neck if ye try.” He returned to her side. “You are Emlyn of Iorwerth?

She wouldn’t affirm or deny his question.

“We saw you arrive at the Ross keep and your departure. We know you were taken there by the Gunn clan. When you didn’t arrive at Schrosberie, my lord sent dispatches. He will arrive soon. Make yourself comfortable, Princess.”

She swallowed hard at hearing that. Even though he had not said outright that Marshall sent them, he was the lord the soldier referred to. Emlyn remained still and tried to appear unaffected.

“What of my escort? What have you done with him?”

“He will be dealt with.”

The soldier turned and headed for the door. He bid the others to follow. Emlyn stood in the center of the chamber alone. The door closed and she heard the beam of wood being set to keep her locked in. She paced, trying to think of what to do, how to escape, and how to rescue James.

Then her eyes fastened on her satchel. She hastened to it and pulled out the gown Branwyn had given her. Once she stripped of her tunic and breeches, she quickly donned the gown. She pulled off her boots and slid her feet into the matching slippers. As she rummaged through the bag, she realized her weapons had been removed. Losing Griffen’s dagger brought forth despair. How would she ever tell him she’d lost it?

She spotted the golden headdress she’d worn on the night of her farewell feast. At the bottom lay a ring and armband. She put them on, adding to her ensemble. The last item, a heavy band of gold cuff fit perfectly on her upper arm. She used her fingers to detangle her hair and pinched her cheeks.

There, she was ready to meet her adversary. She decided to pull the same stint she’d pulled on her mother at her farewell feast. Marshall expected a warrior, but she’d be the complete opposite.

While she waited with dismay, Emlyn worried for James. She hoped they hadn’t harmed him further. For she realized they’d broken his leg and noted other wounds on him when she’d been able to glance at him. She set her mind to think of how she could get to him and through the night she continued to pace the chamber.

By morning, her feet hurt from treading the cold stone floor. Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside the door. The wooden beam was being removed. Anxiety thrummed against her chest and queasiness wracked her stomach.

Emlyn waited. Her breath came in slow rasps. Would Marshall arrive this soon?

A man entered. He was covered from head to foot in armor. His steps clunked from the weight of him. When he reached her, he removed his helmet, revealing a dark head of hair.

Emlyn spied him quickly before she curtseyed and lowered her gaze to her feet. She awaited his bidding to rise. If it was the last thing she ever did, she’d appear demure and would cower at the knave’s feet.

“My lady, stand.”

She pulled her shoulders back but kept her eyes cast low.

“Your name?”

She clasped her hands in front of her and avoided his gaze as he walked around her. His eyes roamed over her and every inch of her stiffened under his perusal.

“Emlyn of the land of Iorwerth.”

“You speak falsely. I was told Princess Emlyn is a warrior. Did your father send another to stand-in to fool me? Aye? Are ye Suzanne or Anhard or one of his other bastards?”

“Nay, my lord, I am indeed she, Emlyn.”

“You do not appear as a warrior and no weapons were found on your person.”

“I know not of what you speak, my lord, but I assure you, I have never taken to arms.”

The man laughed, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I deem I’ve been duped. What of when you were captured? I was told you struck two of my men with your dagger.”

Emlyn lower her chin, trying to appear morose and sorrowful. “My lord, I was … afeared. I did not mean to harm anyone.”

“I shall need to think on this.” He reached for her hand and Emlyn gasped, for that is what a lady would do were a man to be so forward. “I am Earl of Pembroke, Lord William Marshall, and the greatest adversary of your father.”

“My lord,” she said, keeping her voice as appeasing as she could. She curtseyed to add the, hopefully, proper effect.

“There is a way we can find out if you are indeed my princess warrior. Are you she that stands in my presence or a pretender?” He whistled and called, “Gareth.”

Emlyn stiffened when the man stepped in the doorway. As much as she wanted to run at him and display her wrath, she remained still.

The two men walked around her as if she were on exhibition. Their stares did cause a bit of gumption in her and she sorely wanted to shout a blasphemy or two. That or stick a dagger in that quisling’s heart.

“Is this she?”

“I recognize her, my lord. Aye, ‘tis Princess Emlyn that stands before ye. Only she has hair of that color.”

Marshall turned and gripped the man by his neck. “There’s one thing I abhor in a man more than anything.”

Gareth wheezed and his breath garbled. Marshall’s hand tightened.

“I cannot abide a liar.” Marshall continued to strangle Gareth until his body went limp.

Several minutes went by and her own death flashed in her mind. Would he do the same to her when he finished with the traitor? Emlyn couldn’t believe he killed the man in front of her. Her eyes widened when Marshall released him and tossed Gareth’s body to the stone floor.

“I’m regretful you had to see that, my lady. The man told me you had skill at warfare. That you were skilled at weaponry and were a soldier in your father’s army. He lied to me. I do not abide by liars.”

She shook her head. “My mother would never allow my sisters and I to partake in anything to do with arms, my lord. I don’t know why he would tell you such a tale. Mayhap he was ireful when he was banished from my father’s land for his treachery. That is the only reason I deem he told such a falsehood.” Emlyn should’ve felt badly at the man’s death, but he was a traitor and deserved such a penance.

“There’s been a misunderstanding. I might be an enemy in your father’s eyes, but I do not harm gentle maidens.”

She raised her eyes and looked at him for the first time since he’d entered the chamber. His expression softened and he no longer scowled.

“I had heard you were as chivalrous as your father, my lord. For my father often spoke of the great knight and he respected him. His reputation reached Wales.”

“I deem it has reached beyond, even further. I would that my reputation be as coveted, as my father’s, for it is what I aspire to. I will have this rabble removed, my lady. I bid you the freedom of the castle whilst I am away for I must depart for an important meeting with my king.”

She curtseyed. “I thank you, my lord. Will I be returned to my father?”

Marshall reached the door and turned. “As soon as can be arranged. I will have food brought and comforts.”

Emlyn nodded, but remained standing. She was amazed that she’d fooled him, but she couldn’t let her excitement show.

Two guards entered and removed Gareth’s body. Within a few minutes, a maid came with a tray of foodstuffs. She set it down and hastily left, closing the chamber door behind her. Left to her own accord, a silence stilled the chamber and her heart. If she wasn’t overwhelmingly worried about James, she might have celebrated the victory with a gleeful shout. Instead, she released a grated sigh.

How she’d escaped unscathed from her meeting with Marshall, she would have to offer up a prayer to her father’s deity. Now alone, she was unsure what to do. Outside, noise rose from the courtyard and the sound of soldiers vacating the castle reached her. She went to the window casement and saw Marshall leaving with a troop of soldiers. Two rows of men rode side by side in a great line that went on for at least a mile.

She wondered if the door to her chamber was locked but was hesitant to move toward it. Emlyn went to the trencher and wrapped several chunks of bread in a cloth that had been left. She reached for her satchel and pulled out garments and stuffed the bread inside. She changed back into her tunic and breeches and shoved the gown back in before she put her mind to figuring out a way to get to James.

Hours went by and Emlyn was reluctant to move forward with her plan. For one thing, she had no weapon to use and for another, she didn’t know where James was.

Morning light streamed in through the window casement. It was early enough that very few people would be about. She went to the door and tried it. The door opened. Emlyn was both surprised and relieved. She snuck to the steps and reached the bottom without being seen.

She didn’t see anyone about. Before she vacated the keep, she searched for a weapon. In the great hall, on a table in plain sight was the dirk she’d taken from James. She laughed to herself and snatched it, and put it inside her boot.

Near the buttery, she found a helmet. It was a little large for her head, but would have to do to hide her hair. She tied up her tresses with a tie from her tunic before pulling on the helmet. She appeared as a lad and suspected none would deem otherwise.

Emlyn slipped through the door of the keep. The stable was in sight of the door so she headed in that direction, knowing someone was going to call out. She hastened through the bailey and entered the dark domain. No one called out to her, and she stood inside the stable entrance, rasping for breath. She made quick work of finding her and James’ horses. No lads or stable masters were about yet, and she led the horses outside where she tethered them to a wooden pole.

Now to find James.

Most keeps had a garrison or place where soldiers or prisoners were kept. It appeared Marshall had taken most of the soldiers with him for she only saw three slumbering in the garrison. She bumped into one of the sentries on his return.

“What do you here, lad?”

Emlyn kept her head down. “My lord bid me to retrieve the prisoner. I’m to take him and follow.”

The man scratched his beard and scowled. “He said nothing about that.”

She shrugged her shoulder. “I don’t question my lord. I only do his bidding.”

“Well, be about it, lad.”

“Where is he? Is he …” She tried to appear aloof, hoping he’d give her direction.

“They took him to the pit, behind the kitchens.”

Emlyn turned away and left the garrison. As she approached the kitchens, she saw a stone structure next to the lean-to that they used for cooking, but no pit. It was large and looked foreboding. She hoped James was within, because she saw nothing that was likened to a pit. She kept her head down and stepped inside the building. It smelled rank and of death. With each step, she prayed she’d find James alive.

Several men were chained and bound, and they called out to her as she passed. Never had she seen such deplorable conditions as what the men were kept it. Emlyn couldn’t imagine being imprisoned there and considered the black-stall at home heaven in comparison to this place.

She reached a cell at the end of the hallway and called out to the guard. He opened the door and stepped in front of her. Her breath ceased for he was a giant among men and looked to be stronger than any man she knew. Surely she couldn’t take him with the small dirk she had. Emlyn decided again to use trickery for that was the only way she’d gain his help.

“Is this the prisoner brought yester eve?” Emlyn kept her voice low and gruff, trying not to give herself away.

“Aye. Who are you?”

“My lord’s new squire. I’m to take him and follow my lord as he bade.”

The burly man approached her and stood so close she smelled his rank odor. “What for?” He didn’t look as if he had an intelligent thought in his head.

“I know not. Mayhap my lord plans to ransom him. I need to get him and follow.”

“He’s in no condition to be moved.”

Her heart pitched at hearing that. “Get me a cart then. We shall put him in it. I must hurry for my lord awaits ahead on the road.”

The guard opened the worn-wooden door and went off to do as she asked. Emlyn ran inside and found James lying on a wooden spiked table. His hands and feet were strapped to it. She unbound him, gently removing the leather straps.

“James,” she said in desperation, “What have they done to you?” He didn’t look as though he was breathing and she set her palm on his heart. A beat thumped there. She realized her breath came harshly as she stood there looking at him.

James groaned, but made no move to open his eyes.

Emlyn petted him gently. “You’re hurt, my love. I am so wretched for causing you such pain. Can you hear me? James?”

He remained unresponsive.

The guard returned. “I got a cart, lad. There were two horses in the bailey and I hooked them up to it. Should be good enough to get you to the lord.”

“Can you help me lift him?”

“What do I look like? I don’t do your bidding.” He started to turn away.

“I shall leave then and tell my lord you refused to assist me. If he’s unable to ransom the man it’ll be your neck he squeezes, not mine.” She walked away from the table and was about to exit the chamber when he stopped her.

“Wait, lad. I’ll help, but ye best tell Marshall I helped you.” He hefted James over his shoulder and carried him outside. He practically threw James onto the cart.

Emlyn scrunched her eyes, wishing she could give him a what-for, for he was a brute. She returned to the cell and found James’ sword and pouch he wore on his belt. She took them and hid them beside her when she exited.

“My thanks,” she said to the guard, and tossed the items she held, without him seeing, into the front of the cart.

“Best hasten if you’re going to catch up to Marshall.”

“Aye, I will. I should ride hard for he is ahead by hours.” Emlyn sat upon the cart and shouted at the horses and flicked the reins. She was at last on her way. As soon as she rode through the gate, she headed in the direction she’d come from. If only she could make it safely to Gunn land.

Chapter Twenty-One

By late afternoon, she’d made a good distance. The midafternoon heated, and she removed her helmet and untied her tunic. Emlyn wanted to stop and check on James, but she wanted to be far away from the keep in case they realized she’d escaped. A large rock jutted from the hillside, and she decided that would be a good place to take rest and to see how James fared.

She pulled the horses to a stop and let their reins loose so they could forage in the grass. Thinking of that made her stomach growl as she’d eaten nothing that day, but she was more concerned about James than her hunger.

Emlyn climbed onto the back of the cart and noticed James still lay on his front with his eyes closed. She was leery to touch him as he had to be in a great deal of pain. His tunic spotted with blood from being poked by the spikes of the table. She wanted to weep at the sight, but knew she had to remain strong.

Gently, she touched his face and his skin was cool to the touch. At least he hadn’t gotten fever. His body sprawled out and she winced at the way his leg bent, where the soldier had stepped on it. How it must pain him. She took notice of his shoulder and arm, and discerned the damage.

“James, can you hear me?”

He groaned.

“I’m getting us to safety. Worry not.” Emlyn caressed his hair and face, touching him gently with reassurance.

James opened his eyes and grunted. He only kept them open briefly and appeared to succumb to sleep again. That was well and good since he needed rest to heal.

Emlyn grabbed her satchel and rummaged through it until she found the bread she’d put in there. She nibbled on it and sated herself. Night would be coming soon and she decided to keep going. She hoped she headed in the opposite direction of Marshall, and must have because she saw nary a person on her journey.

Once she regained the horse’s reins, she started off again, heading north. James had mentioned when they left they would head north toward Gunn land. Emlyn kept apprised of the location of the sun and hoped she headed in the right direction. Only she didn’t know how afar their lands were and hoped it wouldn’t take long.

The day turned into night as she rode along. Emlyn couldn’t keep her eyes open and dozed off. When she opened her eyes again, she realized she’d fallen asleep, but thankfully the horses trudged onward.

Another day of riding was ahead of her and when she spotted a stream, she stopped to rest and take drink. She let the horses drink and Oran tried to bite her shoulder when she led him toward the water. James’ horse was definitely of an ornery nature. After caring for the horses, she found a horn in James’ saddlebag and realized it was empty. She dunked it in the water and drank it down.

She returned to James’ side and tried to get him to drink a little and forced some in his mouth, but he was unresponsive. With as much force as she could garner, she capped the horn and left it next to him, hoping he’d see it if he awakened. The day grew chilly, and she took a tartan from his bag and covered him with it. Fortunately there were two, so she used the other to wrap around herself. She had no idea where her cloak was and had lost it somewhere.

Emlyn swore she’d never ride as far again, for her rear hurt from sitting on the wooden plank of the cart. Onward she rode, and continued through the night. She only stopped twice the next day, and another night was coming on. The trees, rocks, and hills, all looked alike and the lane ahead wavered in her vision.

Frustration began to build within her, for she had no conception of where she was or even if she was headed in the right direction. The cart moved forward as the horses slowed their pace. They were tired too, but even if they didn’t move with vigor, they were at least moving.

Emlyn heard the sounds of other horses and pulled the cart to the side, near the tree line for protection. Hopefully she wouldn’t be spotted. If danger lurked, she’d be ready for it and pulled James’ sword and dirk from the floor of the cart in front of her, and held both.

A group of men, at least ten, rode toward her. Their leader appeared interested and stopped, gazing at her.

“Well look, a faery riding in our enchanted woods, lads.”

She wouldn’t deem them dangerous until they proved to be so. “Good day. I hope you can assist me.”

The tall lanky soldier grinned. “Aye, milady, we are at your service. What are you doing alone traipsing through our land?”

“Your land? Where might I be? I am trying to reach the Gunn keep or James’ father’s farmstead, whichever is closer,” she said, wearily, hoping and praying they would help her.

His brows rose and his mouth turned upward. “You’re on Gunn land, milady. James? Do you mean James Gunn, guardsman to the laird? Damn his fortune.”

“Aye, indeed I do. I need to get him to safety. Are you acquainted with the Gunns or James?”

The soldier nodded. His gaze changed from amusement to concern. “I am, och ye speak James’ name as if you know him.”

Emlyn turned in her seat. “Actually, I do. He’s in the back of the cart and in need of care. Can you direct me to either his father’s farmstead or the Gunn keep? Whichever is closer?”

The man didn’t answer but walked toward the back of the cart. He hoisted himself up onto the back and knelt next to James. “Christ Almighty, he’s out cold. What’d ye do to him, milady?”

“I did nothing to him. Marshall’s soldiers did that to him. Can you please tell me which direction I should go?” Emlyn was about to make threats she was sure to follow up on if he didn’t start answering her.

“James, it is me, Gordy. Can you hear me?” He shook him and James groaned.

“Don’t, his shoulder is hurt and his leg. I deem his back as well since he was lying on a bed of spikes.”

“Glory be, milady. What the hell happened to him?” The man whistled low.

Emlyn lowered her gaze. “They caught us when we were on the way to his father’s farmstead. I was able to escape and get him in the cart.”

“All by yourself? I deem that must’ve been a feat.” He grinned.

“Nay, I tricked a soldier into helping me. Can we just be on our way? How do you know James?” She was beginning to get flustered and the young soldier made her nervous.

“I be a commander-in-arms at the Gunn keep. The name’s Gordy, milady. Laird Grey is away and I don’t expect him anytime soon. Come, follow us, we’ll lead you to James’ father’s farmstead for it is closer than the keep.” Gordy jumped down from the cart and mounted his horse. “Lads, take up behind the cart. Ensure James’ protection.”

Emlyn hadn’t realized she’d been so tense until she felt the shift of her shoulders. Relief overwhelmed her. She’d reached Gunn land. “How afar is it? James needs care at the soonest.”

“About an hour’s ride, milady. How did you come to be with James? He was on a mission for the king in Wales.”

Emlyn wasn’t sure if she should speak of the happenings. “I met him in Wales. He was to take me to my betrothed.”

The soldier laughed. “Ah, and he didn’t take you there as expected? Is that why he was beat to nary a breath?”

She nodded. “Aye, he tried to protect me, but there were more soldiers around us than he could thwart.”

“Ye don’t have to sing his praises to me, milady. I know James is gallant. Aye, and the most chivalrous man a lass could ask for, if she needs protection.” The man grinned at her as they moved along. He rode next to the cart, beside her and kept his gaze fixated.

Emlyn slunk back upon the wooden bench and closed her eyes. The ride to the farm wasn’t as long as she’d expected, and soon stone walls came into view. They were short and within the sectioned off land were various grazing animals. She saw many sheep and some bigger kind of cow.

As they approached the main building, a man came outside and met them. Behind him stood a woman who smiled in greeting, unlike the man who scowled at their group.

“What business do have you here?” The man shouted an unknown word and several men came running from the outer lying cottages and stable.

“Joseph, I don’t know if you remember me …”

The man looked Gordy up and down before nodding. “Aye, I do. What does his lairdship want now?”

“We’ve James in the cart. He’s been hurt.”

“Why’d ye bring him here? He wants nothing to do with me.”

Emlyn hopped down from the cart and stood before the aged man. “Are you James’ father?”

“Aye, who be you? The last time I saw James he was on his way to wage war. I suppose that didn’t go well?” Even if his words seemed to mock his son, his eyes showed concern.

“I’m Emlyn. I have traveled afar with James and he was trying to protect me when we were set upon. I fear they hurt him. Can we please see to his injuries?”

Joseph stepped toward the cart and peered into it. He gazed back at the lady and nodded. She set off inside and grabbed several items before returning to the door.

“Take him to old Henson’s cottage. I just cleaned it out.”

Emlyn stood watch over James when the men moved in to remove him from the cart. “Be careful with his back. His leg is likely broken and his arm and shoulder are injured.”

“Aye, Ayls, will tend to him and patch the lad up.” Joseph followed the procession, saying nothing more.

Emlyn followed quietly and entered the cottage they took James to. She stood next to the bed and helped strip him of his tunic. As she suspected his back was pocked with bloody marks from the rack he’d been placed upon. Sorrow filled her eyes, but she tried not to weep for she wanted to deeply.

“Worry not, milady, they are mostly bluster. A goodly salve will heal his back quickly. ‘Tis his leg I’m worried about.”

“Alys,” Joseph shouted from outside. “Is he dead?”

“Nay, Joseph. Och I may have to remove his leg. Best get a sharp ax.” She inspected his lower leg and lamented as she assessed him.

Emlyn grabbed hold of the woman and shook her. “Nay! I forbid it. You shan’t do that, take his leg with an ax. Don’t you understand? He shall never forgive me. He’ll heal, I vow. Can you not do anything else for him?”

“Calm, milady. We shall try. Have the lads fetch me a few thin sticks about this wide and any cloths they can find.” She held her hands out a few inches. The woman turned and went back to undressing James and covered him with a woolen cover that had been folded neatly on the chair next to the bed. She set James’ garments aside.

James groaned with the woman’s prodding but didn’t open his eyes. Emlyn grew concerned for he wasn’t wont to come to and until he did, she would despair.

“Tell me, milady, how you came to be with my James?”

“Are you James’ mother?”

James looked akin to his mother with his dark hair and soft brown eyes. His mother was tall and had a pleasant look about her. She smiled and then scowled when she moved his arm. Gently, she set it against his body.

“His arm and leg are indeed broken. We’ll have to try to straighten them and then secure them so he can heal. I am James’ mother, but I haven’t seen him since he was wee. Bachgen gwael.” Her face grew somber. “He’s grown into a fine man.”

She’d spoken in the language of her father’s ancestors and Emlyn knew it well for she’d learned it from her grandfather. Her mother forbade them to speak any other language but English. James was verily a poor lad, a poor broken lad at that. “Are you from Wales, my lady?”

Her face grew somber. “Aye, but I haven’t been back there in many a year. Please, call me Alys, for I am no grand lady. My son has grown into a fine handsome man.” She stood and went to the door. “I could use some help, lads.”

Emlyn wasn’t sure if her melancholy was because of James’ injuries or because she hadn’t seen James since he was a lad. Two men came inside the cottage and helped to hold James still while she secured James’ leg and arm. He didn’t stir much while she tended him. That worried her for it had to have pained him fiercely. Emlyn went on to explain a little of how she’d come to be with James and by the time she finished, the woman had James’ leg and arm secure. The men left them alone.

Alys patted her hand. “I can see the unease on your face. He shall survive it that’s what’s worrying ye?” She went to the door again and asked the men for warm water and her bag of herbs.

“It is my fault he received these injuries. I’m gladdened he will be well.”

“No sense in placing blame, milady. James was doing what he does best, protecting you. And you seem no worse the wear.”

Alys kept to her task, and Emlyn asked to assist her. “I must do something. Please let me help you. What can I do?”

The men returned with the water and herbs. Emlyn took a cloth from the bowl which was handed to her from one of the men, and twisted the water from it. She gave it to Alys, but she handed it back.

“I need to mix a concoction to help ward off his pain. Do you have enough strength to clean him? Be careful with his back. I’ll help turn him. It needs to be clean before I can put salve on it.”

She and Alys managed to get him on his side without disturbing the wood tied around his limbs. Emlyn winced at the punctures and softly wiped him. James groaned and she hurried to finish the task. When she was finished, Alys gently pushed her aside.

“I’ll get this in him and he’ll rest easier.” She set the flask near his lips and poured the contents in his mouth. “I deem you need rest, milady. Joseph,” she shouted.

Emlyn was in awe of the woman for she seemed not to be intimidated one bit by her fearsome husband.

“Milady needs a place to rest. Take her to our cottage so she can sleep.”

“Come, lass.” She wouldn’t budge. “You cannot help him if you’re dead on your feet, lass. Come, you will take our bed this night and we will watch over him.”

Emlyn didn’t want to leave James’ side, but he was in good hands and she hadn’t slept in days. The thought of closing her eyes seemed unfathomable. She swore to only rest an hour or two and then return to his side.

She followed James’ father to their cottage. He opened the door for her and she entered. The cottage was homey and large, affording a kitchen to the left and a large table to the right. Beyond was a large comfortable bed and her eyes grew weary looking at it. She kept James’ tartan wrapped around her for it solaced her and it smelled like him. With hesitancy, she approached the bed and lay upon it.

“Get some rest, lass, for Alys will see to the lad. Worry not.” His father patted her head.

“I will try.” Emlyn heard the door close and within seconds she fell asleep.

During the night, she opened her eyes and peered about the cottage. A large fire banked the hearth in the kitchen. She saw Joseph sitting at the table drinking from a cup. Emlyn felt rested and sat up.

“How is he?” She joined him at the table and he handed her a cup and poured ale from a flagon, filling it.