Chapter Fourteen #2
By the time he made his rounds, the sun was just beginning to set.
He mounted his horse and headed for Mugdock Castle.
He took the faster main path, though he realized he’d be exposed.
Not long after leaving the village he passed through a copse of trees and upon emerging on the other side, felt the woosh of an arrow pass by his left shoulder.
William kicked in his heels hard and leaned forward, willing the horse to gallop faster.
Another arrow whooshed by him grazing his skin.
The thunder of hooves behind him grew louder and as the gates of the castle came into view, he shouted for the men to open the gate.
Just as he made his way inside, two arrows found their mark, one in his shoulder and one in his thigh.
The gates closed behind him and as he slowed the horse, the courtyard spun so quickly, he lost his balance and slid from his horse.
The sky was an orangey pink with soft white clouds.
His body floated toward them. He closed his eyes grimacing against the hot burning pain searing his broken flesh.
No normal arrow would do this. They must have been tipped, but with what he could not tell.
And would have no time to say anything. His tongue thickened in his mouth, as something wet dripped down his cheek.
Agnes.
He’d promised her he’d be safe. That nothing would happen to him. He opened his eyes again to see his guardsmen above him. One reached for the arrow and the other swiped his hand away.
“Thipped,” he whispered.
“We know,” one of them said. “Don’t talk. We will get you inside and cleaned up.”
“Agneth,” he whispered trying to tell them to keep her safe.
He closed his eyes again as the pain raged through his body.
He knew of a few poisons favored for tipping arrows, the worst being nightshade.
He prayed it was something lesser and that they could help him in time.
That he had not lost consciousness was promising.
Perhaps they meant it as a warning and to scare him.
His body was lifted onto something hard. Many people shouted around him as he opened and closed his eyes trying to stay awake. The pain in his shoulder and thigh had gotten so bad it threatened to make him lose his guts.
Once in the great hall he recognized they had placed him on the table. Neville entered then and that was when he saw her. The horror on her beautiful face when she spied the state of him was something he would never forget. She ran to him and took his hand into hers.
He tried to speak but no words would form as another wave of pain ripped through him.
Agnes squeezed his hand and mopped his brow with a cloth.
From where she’d found it, he did not know.
His shirt was ripped off as was one side of his trews.
So many people were yelling and he just wanted to sleep.
He couldn’t understand what they wanted of him.
Finally, one person’s words got through.
“You will not break your promise to me,” Agnes said. “Do you hear me? You will not die on me.”
He tried to nod, but the pain was unbearable. It hurt to think. There was no way he could speak.
“William, look at me,” she said as she shook him. “Look at me!”
He opened his eyes and stared into her beautiful tear-filled eyes gazing back at him with so much fear and pain. He wanted to replace it with joy and happiness. He had to fight this evil raging through his body, and he would do it for her!
“William, they have to remove the arrow. Keep your focus on me. I am here with you and will see you through this.”
Barely able to comprehend her words, he saw black when they pulled the arrow through his shoulder.
Something wet splattered across his face then he felt a great pressure above and below his shoulder.
Agnes mopped his brow again. He couldn’t tell if he was bathed with sweat or blood.
But what had landed in his mouth was metallic, signifying the latter.
“One more, William,” Agnes said. “Look at me again, William. Hold my hand tighter, as tight as you can.”
He was as weak as a kitten. He tried to do as she asked, but his strength left him as fast as the blood pouring from him.
When they pulled the next arrow through, he saw stars. And not the pleasant kind he’d seen when overcome with pleasure. These burst behind his eyes, and he turned his head and retched to the side away from his wife.
More pressure on his thigh and shoulder left him hanging on by a thread.
“That’s good. You did it, William. You will recover now.
Aye, keep pressure hard on both wounds,” she said to someone else.
Then back to him, “We have to move you now, William. We will be as gentle as we can, but you have to stay awake. You have to listen to my voice and stay awake. Do you understand?”
The next sound he heard was his mother’s shrieks.
“No. No. No,” she screamed as they passed by to make their way to his chamber. His eyes opened and closed as he held Agnes’s hand, focusing on the sound of her voice.
She cooed to him, praising his bravery and strength.
She told him she loved him and that she would not leave his side no matter what.
He believed her. And he believed she loved him.
That one thing would see him through. He would fight this, and he would survive to grow old with her and have many bairns.
That was the life he was supposed to have, the life he would have, and nothing, no damned rebel would take that from him.
William turned his head to look at her as they placed him on his bed and servants came in with water and cloths to clean his wounds. True to her word, Agnes did not leave his side and gently stroked his forehead with a damp cloth. People came in and out of the chamber, but he kept his focus on her.
Slowly after a time the pain eased a little and his body relaxed; she urged him to drink a cup of something warm and bitter, and within a short time slumber creeped upon him. He fell into a deep sleep with his wife by his side not knowing if he’d ever wake.