Chapter Fourteen #3
The physic shook his head, very carefully peeling back the edges of her cloak. “Not at all.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Listen, my lady.”
“Listen for what?”
The edges of her cloak fell away and he moved for the neckline of her shift. The moment he did so, he felt a very large hand grasp him around the neck. Not tight enough to cut off air, but the implication was obvious. Timothy put up his hands as if in surrender.
“I am going to listen to her breathing, I swear it,” he said, his voice strangled by Kenneth’s grasp. “Nothing improper will occur but I must be permitted to examine the lady if I am to help her.”
Kenneth looked at Toby for permission, who nodded faintly.
Kenneth released the man and Timothy coughed a couple of times, rubbing his neck, before resuming.
He delicately pulled the neckline of Toby’s shift down to just below her collar bone.
Then he took one end of the strange contraption and put it against her flesh, the other end to his ear.
“Now,” he told her. “Cough.”
She gave forth a weak cough, groaning when it pained her. Timothy listened intently, moving his cone around to different positions before finally removing it.
“She sounds stable enough,” he put the device back in his bag. “I hear nothing strange so I would assume nothing has been punctured.”
As Kenneth hovered over him, Timothy proceeded with his examination, going so far as to examine her arms and legs. After he had thumped and poked enough, he finally returned to his big bag.
“She has three broken ribs and her entire right side is bruised, but she should heal,” he announced, pulling forth a roll of linen. “I am going to have to wrap your ribs, my lady, and I cannot do it through your cloak and surcoat. We must remove your clothes down to your shift.”
Toby wasn’t particularly shocked by his statement.
She had seen Stephen wrapping the ribs of men wounded in the siege and those men had been naked from the waist up.
While Kenneth very gently helped her sit, she and Timothy managed to remove her cloak and surcoat.
She was in so much pain that she could do nothing more than lean against Kenneth as Timothy tightly wrapped the linen around her torso.
Although it hurt tremendously, it also felt strangely better.
By the time the physic was finished, she was exhausted with stress and pain and Kenneth lay her gently back down on the pallet.
Timothy helped her to drink a strong willow bark potion and quite soon, she drifted off into a heavy sleep.
Kenneth sat near her head as the physic packed his medicaments back into his big bag. “I will return in a short while,” he said. “If she awakens, do not let her move around overly. She must be still for the next few days.”
Kenneth nodded as Timothy quit the tent.
When all was still and quiet, his gaze drifted to Toby and thoughts of Tate inevitably followed.
He wondered if his liege had indeed made it to Carlisle Castle and how long it would be before the man was at Mortimer’s doorstep.
He knew for a fact that Tate would not let Toby’s captivity go unanswered.
But the method in which the man chose to respond was the question; knowing Tate and his connections, an army of unfathomable proportions was not out of the question and Mortimer might find himself seriously overwhelmed.
Mortimer, however, held the advantage no matter how large of an army Tate assembled; he held Toby.
Kenneth lay down between Toby and the tent entry, thinking he should probably get some rest. But he spent the next hour staring up at the ceiling, wondering what course their lives would take in the next few days. He wondered if he would be strong enough to endure it.
*
Tate had Edward and, at the moment, that was all he was concerned with.
He didn’t even bother trying to fight de Roche and his men when they surprised them just outside of the postern gate.
All he could think of was getting clear of the skirmish.
To stay and fight, when he was clearly outnumbered, was not the wiser choice. He had to run.
So they fled through the woods as de Roche and his men tried to pursue, being seriously hampered by Stephen, Wallace and the four men at arms. It was a blessing that the snow and trees slowed the pursuit, as Tate and Edward were on foot.
It had been tricky to cross the frozen River Coquet, which bordered the northern edge of the castle, but they had used the old footbridge and then dislodged one end of it when they were across.
As the bridge collapsed and floated away, they tore through the snowy foliage until they came to the horses and wagon that had been left for them.
Each man had grabbed a horse and sped away.
Edward kept tight pace behind Tate as they tore through the forest. Since the bridge was gone, they did not expect pursuers but kept up a fast pace.
Tate fleetingly wondered what would become of Stephen and the others, with no way across the river to their mounts, but he had to put that thought from his mind.
Unless the man was dead or dying, Stephen would find his way to Carlisle Castle and Tate fully expected to see him there in a few days. He was too strong to fail.
The journey to Carlisle would be a difficult one.
It would take them at least two days but with the snow and bad weather, perhaps longer.
Tate’s thoughts inevitably moved to Toby, wondering where she was and praying that she was well.
He trusted Kenneth and knew the man would do all in his power to keep her safe, but he could not help himself from worrying to the point of being overwhelmed by it.
Now that he and Edward were away and presumably safe, his mind was occupied with thoughts of his wife.
Although he had only known the woman a week, he felt as if she had been with him his entire life.
No greater bond nor love nor admiration could he have felt for her had he known her for a thousand years.
He was desperate to see her safe, to hold her and to tell her how much he loved her. He could think of nothing else.
As the snowfall eased and the clouds began to clear, the moon soon emerged to bathe the land in its eerie white light.
Tate and Edward pushed on into the night, determined to put as much distance as they could between them and de Roche, waiting for the day to dawn in the hopes that it would bring good news and a brighter outlook.
In hindsight, if he had known at that moment what he would later come to discover, he would have sent Edward on alone to Carlisle and turned his horse for Mortimer’s camp.
But when he and Edward finally reached Carlisle Castle on the morning of the third day and found themselves quite alone but for eight hundred troops, he spent two additional days not eating and not sleeping, waiting for any sign of Toby and Kenneth.
On the sixth day since leaving Harbottle, Stephen, Wallace and two men at arms, Morley and Oscar, arrived at Carlisle.
They were exhausted and haggard but alive.
The rest of their party, including Althel, had perished in the flight.
Tate was glad to see them but they knew nothing of Toby or Kenneth. The despair he felt deepened tenfold.
It was then on the seventh day since fleeing Harbottle that an escort arrived at Carlisle Castle bearing a missive from the Earl of March.
It came during the first meal Tate had eaten in four days.
Fatigued and on edge, he knew what the missive said before he even read it.
He just had a gut feeling. And even after he read the carefully scripted words, he continued to stare at the parchment as if hardly believing what he had read.
Young Edward’s response to the message was to rage while Stephen stood in brooding silence, finally quieting the young king who was verging on a tantrum.
All eyes were on the Earl of Carlisle as the missive in his hand eventually fell to the floor.
As Tate walked away in stunned disbelief, the words on the parchment screamed forth from the dingy and dusty floor.
Your wife is my guest and St. Héver with her. The Lady was injured in her adventure and has required the constant attention of a physic. Should you wish to have her returned, you and I must come to terms at Wigmore Castle.
Tate made it out to the bailey before vomiting.