Chapter Twenty-Five
The wounded needed her.
After her breakdown, Corisande was back with the sick and injured, tending men because that’s what she was good at. It gave her something to focus on other than Cole, someone she would now have to forget.
But she wasn’t sure she could.
Still, she would have to. She would have to force herself. After what had happened between them, there was no going back. Cole would move on with his life and she would move on with hers, but it would not be as one.
Somehow, she’d have to find the will to go on.
She wasn’t sure she could.
Corisande was coming to think that God simply didn’t want her to wed.
He didn’t want to see her happy. Spinsters or widows or unmarried women often devoted themselves to the cloister by way of a livelihood, but Corisande wouldn’t consider it.
Why would she serve a God who didn’t want to see her happy?
But she also knew she couldn’t stay at The Keld.
Odd how it had been her home since birth but, somehow, returning to such a place would remind her of Cole. In the grand scheme of things, he’d hardly spent any time there, yet his mark was upon it, indelibly. She couldn’t go back there and remember those wonderful memories.
Corisande didn’t know what she was going to do, but she did know one thing – she would never recover from this.
She would never be the same again.
But her focus, for now, had to be on the sick and wounded.
She couldn’t let her personal issues get in the way of making sure men lived.
It was easier to function if she had something to focus on, something to chase away the crippling thoughts of Cole.
But try as she might, she couldn’t keep him from her mind.
She couldn’t get his accusing eyes out of her head.
That he would not even give her the opportunity to explain cut her to shreds but, in hindsight, she would have only told him what he suspected.
Perhaps it was better this way.
Evening was starting to fall and the torches around the hospital area were lit, weak light to stave off the mist that was now starting to roll in from the sea. It smelled strongly of salt. Corisande moved among the men, making sure those not in the tent were well-covered against the dampness.
The cooks of de Bourne’s army had prepared a meal, including a big pot of beef broth from the bones of the beef they’d been cooking for the regular army.
It was a rich broth, salty, and some of Corisande’s helpers began giving it to the wounded.
The hospital area, in fact, was surrounded by the regular army, with Teviot’s army immediately adjacent, so they could smell food from all sides as the evening meal commenced for the weary men.
Corisande was kneeling beside a man who had taken an ax to the shoulder, helping him lift his head to drink the beef broth, when she heard someone lifting his voice behind her.
“It has come to my attention that there have been some rumors spreading amongst the armies.” It was Cole, standing right in the middle of the hospital area.
“I have heard of these rumors myself, cruel and vicious rumors regarding the release of captives from the Scots several days ago. You know who you are, men spreading these rumors, and when I find you, I will make you pay.”
He had the loudest, most terrifying voice possible and with the fog, it carried. Hundreds of men were hearing him. Corisande sat there, frozen, having no idea what he was going to do. He’d run off earlier and now he was back, perhaps to do greater harm to her and her reputation.
Or perhaps he was having some kind of tantrum.
Frantically, she looked around for her brothers, but the mist made it difficult to see if they were around.
She didn’t want them to charge Cole because a spectacular fight would result that she didn’t want to witness.
No matter what she was feeling, or what he’d done, she didn’t want Cole injured by her angry brothers.
But she couldn’t seem to make herself move, frightened into inactivity, as Cole began to pace around near the enormous iron pot that was boiling soiled bandages.
He looked as angry and terrifying as she had ever seen him.
“I want all of you who can hear my voice to listen to me and listen well,” he said.
“These rumors that Alastor de Bourne’s daughter has traded her innocence in exchange for the release of the English captives is false.
It is a lie perpetuated by small and feeble minds.
I want to be perfectly clear about this, so any rumors you now spread will be countered with the truth.
Nothing lascivious or untoward happened.
But a great sacrifice did. It had to be explained to me before I understood it, so I tell you now that any man I find speaking against the daughters of Alastor de Bourne will meet my wrath.
I do not care who you are or where you are – I will find you and I will cut out your offensive tongue. ”
Shocked, Corisande began to tremble. She set the broth down on the ground and stood up, having no idea what to make of any of this. Cole was shouting loud enough for the Scots in Edinburgh to hear him, laying open a situation that had, since it happened, been whispered and sneered about.
But he was bringing it all to the forefront.
Corisande made her way out of the shelter, looking at Cole with surprise and apprehension. When he caught sight of her, he turned in her direction, his eyes locking with hers. A thousand unspoken words passed between them, words of sorrow and longing, fear and love, but he didn’t move for her.
Not yet.
He wasn’t finished.
“I have fought in many battles in my lifetime,” he said.
“I come from a family of warriors and you all know that. The name de Velt is synonymous with battle. I have seen bravery that has impressed me and I have seen men sacrifice themselves for a cause, but I have never in my life seen more courage than I have seen from Corisande de Bourne. She is a lady of great character and bravery I could only hope to have, and I shamed her greatly by allowing myself to be sucked up into the filth that was being spread about her. But no more. She does not deserve what your dirty minds have cast upon her.”
His voice was echoing off the tents. Men were coming into view now, from all armies, listening to Cole as he bared his soul for all to hear. Corisande would have seen her brothers and father come into view had she not been so focused on Cole.
Here he was, making sure everyone heard him.
Making sure everyone, including Corisande, knew what was on his mind.
Making sure everyone knew what the just and right cause was.
“I will tell you now that it does not matter to me what Lady Corisande did or did not do,” he said.
“Those with polluted minds will think what they will, but even if the rumors are true, one must look at the situation as a great and noble sacrifice. In battle, men sacrifice themselves for others. Men die for others. But with women… sometimes, their sacrifices go deeper even than that and they should be commended for it, not scorned. Being a captive of the Scots was a battle – make no mistake – and a woman fought back with whatever she had in order to save others. Be ashamed that any of you thought such a sacrifice was dirty or ruinous. Be ashamed if you looked upon the woman involved as less than noble, for I assure you, she is more noble than you could ever hope to be. I was wrong; anyone spreading such rumors was wrong. We were all wrong. We do not know the meaning of the word sacrifice or honor. But Corisande de Bourne does. She has lived it.”
Tears were pouring down Corisande’s face by the time he was finished.
Cole had laid himself bare in the most brutal, beautiful way possible.
His guard was down, his pride was gone. He was letting her know, and everyone else, that he had been wrong.
That it didn’t matter what Corisande had done or hadn’t done. He loved her still.
And always would.
It was incredibly quiet when he stopped talking as thousands of men stood still, listening to Cole de Velt scold them. For those who spread the rumors, or spoke ill of Lady Corisande, they deserved it.
But for Cole, it was the public apology he needed to make.
Seeing Corisande standing on the other side of the boiling linen pot, several feet beyond it, Cole came around the fire, his eyes riveted to her. He could see the tears streaming down her face. As he looked at her, his eyes filled with tears also.
He didn’t try to stop them.
“Love is a funny thing,” he said, his voice softer now.
“It can be the strongest of motivators, like the love between sisters or between husband and wife. But it can also be the cruelest of emotions when abused. I am sorry I abused it, Cori. Although I do not expect you to forgive me, know that I am sorry just the same. I was wrong. I do not care what has happened because my love is not limited to a woman who only does what I think she should do. It is unconditional when it comes to you and I am sorry that my actions, for a short time, proved otherwise.”
Corisande sobbed into her hand. “There is nothing to forgive, Cole,” she said. “But you did not have to champion me in front of the entire army.”
“Aye, I did,” he said, coming closer and lowering his voice even more.
“I had to make sure they understood the truth. Surrendering my pride is my penitence for being so selfish and blind that I did not understand that true love is absolute. It knows no limitations, no boundaries. And this is true love, Cori. I will love you, just as I do now, until the end of all things. You are my queen, as you always have been, and I worship you. But I want to know one thing. May I ask?”
Corisande nodded. “Anything.”
“Where is Alexander MacDuff? I understand he was part of the contingent that captured you.”
There was hazard in his tone. Corisande sniffled, finally wiping at her face. “I do not know,” she said honestly. “He was accompanying the wagons as we headed out of camp. He was with us when you ambushed us.”
Cole reflected back to that short, violent event. “We did not leave anyone alive.”
“Then he must be dead.”
Somehow, that eased Cole’s mind considerably. The bastard who had forced that horrible situation upon Corisande and Gaia was dead at the hands of the Executioner Knights.
Perhaps there was a God, after all.
He smiled faintly.
“Now,” he said, “as I was saying, the battle is over and we have a wedding to attend to. I hope. Is this still true?”
She nodded so eagerly that her hair lashed her face. “It is.”
His smile grew. “Would you be opposed to being married in front of thousands of soldiers and about a dozen knights who would dearly like to witness the ceremony, your father and my father included?”
Corisande broke into a radiant smile. “I cannot think of anything more appropriate,” she said. “But are you certain? What about your mother and sisters? Will they not want to attend?”
He shrugged. “We will marry again at Pelinom for their benefit,” he said. “And my mother can throw a wild, lavish party for it. But right now… right now, I want to take you as my wife. I will not wait another moment to begin the rest of my life. With you.”
Corisande threw herself at him, her arms around his neck, her lips against his. Cole kissed her deeply and gratefully, so very thankful for this moment. It was the best thing he’d ever done, the happiest event he’d ever known, and even as he kissed Corisande, he could hear cheers and whistles.
He knew it was his brothers, the Executioner Knights, cheering him on.
Every last one of them.
For The Dark Spawn, the son of the most feared knight in the realm, and the strong, noble daughter of the hereditary King of Northumbria, that moment at the end of a battle was the beginning of their lives together. The start of a tide of blessings to come.
The genesis of a love that would last until the end of time.
Two souls that were finally one.
And they were the better for it.