Chapter Five #3
Corisande was interested. “Truly?” she said. “Where is it?”
“Far away,” he said. “In a land of ancient kings. There is an enormous river that runs through that desert land and Kitara is on that river. It would take you years to reach it.”
“If it is so far away, what are they doing in England?”
“They were young when there was an insurrection in their country,” he said, moving to the end of his horse where she was standing.
“Their father was killed, so they were forced to flee. Truly, their life story is something quite amazing. They made their way to The Levant and ended up under the care of Christian knights. When the wars were over, they traveled to Ghent where they were trained, and knighted, and then they came into the service of my father. They are brilliant men and fine warriors.”
“They are princes,” Corisande said. “They should be treated as such. God’s Bones, they should not be sleeping in the knight’s quarters. They should be in the keep, in a fine chamber with a soft bed.”
She seemed a little panicked that she had royalty in her house and had not given them proper treatment. But Cole smiled and put a big hand on the fingers that were holding the moss.
“They are knights,” he stressed, a twinkle in his eyes. “The knight’s quarters suit them quite well.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am.”
He removed his hand from her fingers, which had only really lingered there for a brief moment, but Corisande felt his flesh against hers like a brand. It was difficult to think of anything other than the feel of his hand against hers, something she’d not experienced in a very long time.
“If you say so, then I will not worry,” she said, trying not to appear distracted. “When you return, I hope you bring them. I should like to hear of their travels and of the land of Kitara. It is a beautiful name.”
“Sounds like a woman’s name, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “Indeed,” she said. Then, she paused a moment. “My lord, may I ask you a question?”
He nodded. “You may,” he said. “But I would be honored if you would call me Cole.”
Corisande smiled bashfully. “Thank you,” she said. “But only if my family is not around. They may not like it if I become too familiar. It will sound disrespectful.”
He chuckled. “I will assure them that you have my permission,” he said. “What is your question?”
Her smile faded. “I am not quite sure how to ask this,” she said. “I have not yet seen my father since the events of the afternoon, and I am not sure he would answer me truthfully. I sense that you would not lie to me.”
“I would not lie in any case. What is it?”
“The man… the Scotsman from today,” she said. “I have been wondering… was he a prisoner?”
Cole wondered what brought on the change in subject, but he answered truthfully. “Aye.”
“Was he trying to lure my father into a war?”
Cole shook his head. “If you wish to know more, then you must ask your father. I have told you all I can.”
She understood. “Thank you for being honest with me,” she said. “But I do hope he was not trying to lure my father into a war. We have seen enough of that.”
He peered at her strangely. “Here?” he said. “At The Keld?”
She shook her head. “Not here,” she said.
“But my father trots out his army every time there is an action against the king in the north. He does not like the man very much. There are a few barons this far north who support the king and there are others who do not. Disputes arise. In fact, there was one a few months ago and my father went to support Prudhoe Castle against Lord Lanchester. It seemed that Lanchester wanted Prudhoe for the king and d’Umfraville called upon my father for assistance to chase him away. That was a rather… messy battle.”
Cole hadn’t heard of that particular skirmish, but he wasn’t surprised. John’s loyal barons were generally unscrupulous and targeted major castles from time to time with the intention of holding them for the king.
“The men of The Keld were fortunate to have you,” he said. “I am sure you tended to them quite ably once they reached home.”
She looked at him oddly. “I tended to them at the battle,” she said. “I am my father’s surgeon.”
Cole stared at her a moment before his eyebrows slowly lifted. “You went on a battle march?”
She nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Anytime my father’s army is called out, I go with them. The men have a much better chance of surviving if I am able to tend to them quickly.”
It took him a moment to digest that. Women weren’t surgeons and they certainly didn’t go on battle marches.
At least, he’d never heard of anything like that in his life.
But at The Keld, that was evidently the situation – the chatelaine healer was also the surgeon.
Her practice of tending the ill and sick crossed over into battlefield.
He wasn’t sure he liked that at all.
“I see,” he said. “That is a very difficult life for a woman. I am surprised your father permits it.”
Corisande shrugged. “As I said, I am their best chance for survival,” she said. “My mother used to go with the army, too.”
“Two women surgeons?”
“Indeed.”
Cole had never heard of such a thing. To think of Corisande de Bourne in the midst of a battle…
nay, he didn’t like that at all. A battle was no place for a woman, but he refrained from voicing his opinion.
She clearly didn’t see anything wrong with it and he didn’t want to interject his position when he really had no place to.
But it occurred to him that if de Bourne sent his army to Berwick, as he had pledged, then Corisande might be going along as the surgeon.
… and he had a distinct problem with that.
He’d known the woman a matter of hours and, already, he didn’t like the idea of her in danger.
It was a most interesting situation.
“Hopefully, there will never be another cause for you to venture out with the army,” he said, smiling weakly. “The Keld seems to be at peace for the moment. So we shall hope it remains that way.”
“And you’ll still come back and visit us?”
“I said I would. I meant it.”
The way he said it caused her cheeks to flush. He could see it in the dim light of the lamp. But she lowered her gaze, and the lamp, and his glimpse of those pretty cheeks was dimmed.
“Then I shall be in the stables before dawn with some food for your journey,” she said. “I hope that is agreeable.”
“I am grateful, my lady.”
“If I am to call you Cole, then you are to call me Cori.”
“It would be my greatest honor.”
“But do not let my brothers hear you. They might think you are being too forward.”
He laughed low in his throat. “I can handle the de Bourne brothers.”
“And they think they can handle you.”
He burst out laughing. Corisande smiled broadly, a big dimple in her right cheek, as she handed him the lamp.
“As much as I would like to continue this conversation, I am afraid that I must tend a soldier with an infected wound,” she said, holding up the growth in her hand. “That is why I came to collect the moss. But it was most agreeable speaking with you, Cole. I am glad we had the opportunity.”
His gaze lingered on her. “As am I,” he said. “And it will not be the last time.”
“I hope not.”
With a bashful smile, she turned and headed out of the stable, leaving Cole standing there with the lamp in his hand and a big grin on his face.
Nay, it wouldn’t be the last time he talked to her.
Not in the least.