Chapter Twenty-Two
“Shockingly, the fall did not kill her,” the physic said. “She did not land on the rocks like the others did. She landed on them and they cushioned her fall, but she will not survive this. The damage she suffered is too great. It is only a matter of time before she passes.”
It was evening at Axminster as a hush settled over the land, and the castle, with torches on the wall and phantom shadows in every corner, remained still and solemn.
Douglas and Jonathan were listening to the physic, the same physic who had tended Mira after her beating from Raymond.
He was young but he was knowledgeable, and Douglas wiped a weary hand over his face after the physic delivered the news.
“Is she in any pain?” he asked hoarsely.
The physic shrugged. “The fall broke her back,” he said.
“She cannot feel much, but she is experiencing some discomfort. It is to be expected because her body is very broken up inside. Soon, her heart and lungs will begin to fail. She will simply go to sleep and it will all be over. It will be a relatively painless death.”
That was the saddest thing Douglas had ever heard.
They were on the entry level of the keep, in a corridor outside a bedchamber usually used by the servants.
When Isabel had been brought back to the castle, she was so badly injured that the physic didn’t want to take a chance of jostling her up the stairs more than they already had, so it was decided to put her in a room on the entry level for her comfort.
As the night had settled, an eerie calm settled over Axminster.
By this time, everyone knew about the tragedy.
The rumor was that Jerome had lured Isabel up to the wall and then attacked her.
When Eric rushed to save her, they all pitched over the side and crashed to their deaths.
Quite honestly, Douglas didn’t have the strength to correct anything.
Castles were always rumor mills and this was no exception.
The damage was done, so he was just going to let the gossip die away.
People would believe what they wanted to believe, anyway.
But he knew the truth.
“Is there anything that can be done for her?” he asked after a moment. “Does she require anything?”
The physic nodded. “Douglas,” he said. “She has been drifting in and out of unconsciousness and has asked for Douglas. Who is that?”
“Me.”
“Ah,” the physic said. Then he eyed Douglas for a moment. “We met when Lady Mira was injured, but we were not introduced. My name is Pinney.”
Douglas acknowledged the introduction with a brief nod. “Thank you for your attention to Lady Isabel,” he said. “If there is anything we can do to make her more comfortable, please do it. You do not even have to ask permission. Whatever she needs… Anything at all.”
Pinney nodded. “I will, my lord,” he said. “I need to prepare a pain potion to help her discomfort. May I use the solar for this?”
“Of course,” Douglas said. “Do you require anything for this potion?”
“Wine.”
“I shall have it sent to you.”
Pinney nodded and headed toward the entry where the solars were, both of them. As he headed into the large solar, Douglas turned to Jonathan.
“You had better fetch Mira,” he said. “I know she will want to speak with Isabel if she can. She is quite shattered.”
“All of the young women are,” Jonathan said quietly. “They are upstairs, in their chambers. The cook is seeing to the evening meal, simply to feed the men. I do not think the women want to be part of anything.”
Douglas conceded the point. “That is understandable,” he said. “The woman who has mentored them, trained them, educated them, is dying. I can only imagine the grief they must feel.”
Jonathan watched him carefully. “And you?” he said quietly. “You are feeling grief, too.”
Douglas nodded. “Indeed,” he said. Then he snorted softly. “You know, when we first came to Axminster, I thought Isabel was a… was a not very nice woman.”
“A boorish hag?”
Douglas grinned weakly. “Something like that,” he said. “She did not want me here any more than I wanted to be here, but now I feel as if I am losing a sister. We tried to save her, Wolfie. We tried and failed. I am not accustomed to failure.”
Jonathan shook his head. “We did not fail,” he muttered. “We had no part in what happened. We never touched Jerome. What happened with him and Isabel and Eric… It simply happened. But we had no hand in it.”
Douglas sighed heavily. “I suppose you are correct,” he said. “If we could have only separated Isabel and Jerome when they started fighting, mayhap none of this would have happened.”
“Stop reliving it,” Jonathan said. “You tried to save Eric. Had it not been for his cheap boot, you would have.”
Douglas shook his head sadly. “The poor man,” he said. “It seems to me that he just wanted to be happy. He wanted his dignity and the woman he loved. That is not too much to ask.”
“It is not.”
“Where did you put his remains?”
“In the vault with Raymond and Jerome,” he said.
“Though Eric has the dignity of being on elevated wooden boards, off the ground, while Jerome and Raymond are lying in the dirt where they belong. I have already spoken with the de Honiton escort, and they will be departing on the morrow, delivering their liege and his son home.”
“Good,” Douglas said firmly. “Let them go back where they came from. God, I wish they’d never come here.”
“I am certain that is a sentiment they would both agree with if they could,” Jonathan said. “But what about Isabel? What will we do with her?”
Douglas’ gaze moved in the direction of Isabel’s closed door.
“You heard the physic,” he said. “She does not have much longer to live. Once she passes, we will bury her with Eric. I think she would like that, and I know he would. In fact, send for a priest at St. Mary’s in the village.
It is possible that Isabel would like her last rites, and I want to be prepared if she does.
The last thing she needs to worry about is her immortal soul. ”
Jonathan turned away. “I’ll send for him right away.”
“And don’t forget to fetch Mira to me.”
“I won’t.”
With Jonathan heading out to follow orders, Douglas went to the door to Isabel’s bedchamber.
He paused, hand on the latch, before taking a deep breath and opening the door.
Inside, it was small and dimly lit by several tapers and an oil lamp.
It smelled heavily of cloves, which physics believed had medicinal purposes.
There was a servant inside, a woman who had been assisting the physic, but Douglas waved her out.
He wanted to be alone with Isabel.
The last time he saw her, she was unconscious, being carried between Jonathan and Davyss.
Her dress had been torn, part of her hair pulled from her scalp, and both arms were broken.
They were flopping at her side. It had been a ghastly vision, and Douglas had ordered a blanket thrown over her so others wouldn’t see her in such a state before they got her into the castle.
He wanted to spare her dignity.
Now, she lay upon a small bed, arms at her side, the blood washed from her face, and a blanket pulled up to her chin.
Her eyes were closed, her face softly illuminated by the light from the tapers.
Quietly, he sat down on a small stool that had been pulled up to the bedside and sat for a moment, watching her face.
He couldn’t even tell if she was breathing.
Sighing softly, he sat forward, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his clasped hands. Just watching her.
Waiting.
“Douglas?”
Isabel’s usually strong voice was a mere whisper. He sat up, peering at her more closely.
“Aye, my lady?”
“It is you?”
“It is, my lady.”
“Fancy a game of chess now?”
He smiled weakly. “I would only beat you,” he said. “Mayhap you have had enough excitement for today.”
Her eyes fluttered open, moving slowly until she found him sitting beside her. “You mean that I have had enough tragedy for today.”
He nodded slowly, with resignation. “That is a harsh word,” he murmured. “And I am sorry to agree with it.”
“Douglas?”
“Aye, my lady?”
“Will you hold my hand?”
He didn’t hesitate. He reached under the blanket to find her left hand, soft and warm, but he knew that her arms were broken and didn’t want to jostle her, so he simply held it gently without moving it.
“I am holding it,” he said. “Can you feel me?”
“Nay,” she said. “I cannot feel anything.”
“Trust me when I tell you that I am,” he said. “Shall I prove it to you? Shall we arm-wrestle?”
He was rewarded with a weak grin. “I would beat you and then you would be ashamed because I would tell everyone,” she said, but it was clear that she was having difficulty talking.
She sounded weak and winded, as if she couldn’t catch her breath.
“But I will spare you that for today. I am not feeling up to it.”
“Mayhap another time.”
“There will not be another time,” she said, the mirth fading from her eyes. “You needn’t pretend, Douglas. I know that I am dying. I am at peace with it.”
His expression went from one of warmth to one of sorrow very quickly. “If there is anything I can do for you, my lady,” he said, “please ask. Anything at all.”
“Do you swear this?”
“Of course I do,” he said. “What is your wish?”
Isabel’s gaze fixed on him, and for a moment he wondered if she had died right in front of him because she didn’t move. Her eyes didn’t move at all. But then she coughed weakly.
“I have been lying here, thinking,” she said softly. “We must speak on a few things before I leave this world and I want to ensure that you carry out my wishes.”
“As I said, I will do whatever you wish.”