Chapter 28 #2
My hand flew to my mouth. “Baron…”
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said.
I reached out before I’d even decided to.
My fingers brushed one of the scars, barely touching him, and still he flinched.
Not dramatically, not enough to draw visual attention…
but enough for me to feel it. I felt it enough for me to imagine how hard the sheriff must have struck him.
I could just picture Baron standing there, bearing the brutal treatment in silence.
A sick, protective fury roared to life inside me.
I rummaged desperately through the packs until I found a small medical kit. I had him sit down and, kneeling behind him, I dabbed ointment along the fresh cuts, swiping away flecks of dried blood with trembling fingers. The feel of his skin beneath my touch sent a painful twist through my chest.
I worked as gently as he had when tending the wound on my neck. He didn’t make a sound, though every slow breath he drew told me he was fighting the urge to tense. I wrapped the fresh bandages around his torso as carefully as I could.
“Well,” Baron joked weakly when I finished, “if I knew this was the treatment I’d get, I would’ve told you sooner. I don’t mind being fussed over by a beautiful maiden.”
“Shut up about the beautiful maiden nonsense,” I snapped, but the sharpness in my voice came from worry, not anger. “We’re going to an apothecary at the next town. This needs proper tending.”
“It’ll heal in a few days, Laurel. I’m used—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I warned before saying fiercely, “No one should treat you like this.” My voice threatened to crack. “Ever.”
He pulled his shirt back on, hiding the evidence of the brutality as though it were nothing more than a scratch. I stared. I never would have known.
Baron seemed to read my mind. “The sheriff knows exactly how much force to use,” he said with a humorless laugh. “Too much, and he’d lose a capable man for weeks. Too visible, and people would talk. But this?” He tapped his ribs lightly. “He excels at keeping people quiet and afraid.”
A bitter smile tugged at his mouth. “Honestly, having you around made him back off. I think you scared him.” He gave a low laugh. “You were unpredictable. He didn’t know how to control you.”
My stomach churned. The image of the sheriff lifting that whip—again, and again, and again—rose in my mind like smoke. My fists curled at my sides. If I hadn’t been so intent on rescuing Father, I would have ridden straight back to camp and lashed the sheriff myself, consequences be cursed.
No wonder Baron had brushed off Dorian’s punishment as nothing unusual. He had endured far worse for years. And for what? Some trivial disobediences? Imagined slights?
For me.
I swallowed down the burning ache in my throat.
He had carried that pain without complaint, and he’d carried it alone.
Suddenly my longing for him surged up, sharp and impossible to ignore, tempered only by the vow I’d made to keep my distance. I couldn’t give in, not while everything between us was still so tangled and confusing.
But oh, how I wanted to close the distance and promise he’d never hurt like this again. I wanted to be there for him and prove to him that there were still good people in the world.
Instead, I steadied my voice and said, “Let’s pack up. We need to make good time.”
But as we saddled the horses and set off into the predawn gloom, I couldn’t stop glancing at him as if I could see the marks hidden beneath his shirt.
As we traveled that day, we discussed plans for infiltrating the castle and potential plans for rescuing Father and his men.
I shouldn’t have been surprised at Baron’s extensive knowledge about the garrison stationed there, but I was.
Baron was able to describe in lengthy detail the ways in which castle guards rotated shifts, what they watched for, ways their defenses could be exploited, everything.
His knowledge was invaluable as it would have taken weeks to learn all of this on my own, and those were weeks I didn’t have if I was going to rescue my father and his men.
When I asked where he learned all this, he shrugged in his casual, Baron-like way and said that he’d taken a brief assignment at King Richard’s castle, and that Prince John’s castle guard would operate in the same manner.
“But I thought you and the sheriff supported Prince John’s claim to the throne,” I told him, thoroughly confused by why he would have been working for the king. “You wanted to protect King Richard?”
“No, the sheriff just wanted someone who could feed him information about King Richard’s numbers and strength. I took a job as a guard there to learn their habits.”
My mouth dropped. “You were spying on the king? But that’s treason!”
“No, it wasn’t!” Baron denied the accusation. “I was just getting information about the men at arms there. You know, habits, patterns, that sort of thing. We never planned a rebellion or takeover or anything.”
“But your information would have made a coup possible if the chance presented itself,” I pointed out.
Baron considered my argument. “I suppose. This was just before he left for the Third Crusade, and he took most of his men with him. I was asked to go with them, actually.”
“But clearly you didn’t.”
Baron hung his head, embarrassed. “Well, I said I would. But then the night before, I just…walked away. I went back to Prince John’s army. I thought at the time it was the right thing to do.”
How many times had Baron deceived people?
How often would he do it in the future? As much as I wanted to believe that Baron would be loyal to me, I had to wonder if King Richard had felt the same thing.
Very likely the sheriff had thought it as well.
Why would I be any different? Little John had always drilled into our minds, “Once a traitor, always a traitor.” Was that true?
We found an apothecary in a small village we passed through.
Baron, the huge giant that he was, was the more conspicuous of the two of us, so it was I who tucked my giveaway red hair into a cap, pulled my cowl up close, and disguised my voice as I entered town.
I purchased the necessary supplies for treating Baron’s injuries before leaving quickly, eager to avoid attracting attention.
That night, after I had tended to his wounds, Baron took the first watch and I fell asleep, but my dreams were marred and disturbing.
I dreamt that I was hurrying along a forest path, searching for my father.
Eventually I came to a lake where I found him beaten, bloody, and barely gasping for his last breath.
I called to him to stay with me, but he had been shot through the heart with an arrow.
Baron came at that point. He held me and tried to comfort me, but as I clung to him, his face melted into the sheriff’s, who forced me back into chains, laughing as he dragged me away from my father’s body.
I screamed aloud, jarring myself awake, and felt my heart pounding frantically in my chest.
Baron hurried into the tent, sword drawn. “What is it?”
I shook my head and wiped sweat from my forehead. “Nothing. Just a bad dream is all.”
He re-sheathed his sword and crossed to me. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He kept looking into the corners of the tent as if expecting to see someone skulking in the shadows.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be in here with me,” I said, trying to hide how terrified I had been upon waking.
“This doesn’t count.”
I let out a snort. “Oh really? It only counts when you say?”
“When a damsel is in distress—”
“Excuse me? Damsel in distress?”
Baron was resolute. “Yes. I had to come make sure you were okay.”
I couldn’t help myself. I smiled. “That’s very gallant of you. If you weren’t so noble, you would have a future as one of my fellow outlaws.”
We sat together as the last tremors of fear from my nightmare faded, leaving me hollow and shaken. The quiet between us stretched thin and fragile. I secretly hoped he would slip an arm around me but Baron kept his hands firmly to himself, jaw tight, gaze fixed anywhere but on me.
Finally, I couldn’t stand the distance. I reached for his hand, but he pulled away at once, sharp and skittish.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “We can still trust each other.”
“You shouldn’t,” Baron muttered. His voice was strained. “I don’t trust myself around you.”
My brows knit. “What are you talking about? You’ve never hurt me.”
He dragged in a long breath, then stared hard at the canvas ceiling as if it offered deliverance. “If I touch you right now…” His voice frayed. “I don’t know if I could stop.” He darted me a hesitant, sidelong glance. “You’re…extremely attractive.”
“Oh.” My heart thudded painfully. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I wasn’t sure if I should be alarmed or flattered…or both. I was utterly inexperienced at wanting someone back. Other boys had always been annoyances I had learned to shrug off.
But with Baron, I wanted him to notice me. I wanted him to want me. I wanted it so fiercely it scared me. He was the dangerous, forbidden reminder of everything I should despise. Yet the attraction pulled at me nonetheless. Temptation had never been more difficult to resist.
I tried to claw my way back to sanity.
“Look, Baron…maybe that was a mistake,” I said, though it made my chest ache. “Maybe it would be better if we forgot about what happened between us.”
Baron’s face crumpled. “I can’t do that, Laurel. Maybe it didn’t mean a lot to you, but it did to me.” His voice dropped, low and raw, but there was still an edge of hope fighting to stay alive. “I can’t just forget, and I don’t want to.”
Silence settled over us—heavy, charged, and dangerous. The fire crackled, throwing restless shadows across his face through the partially opened tent flap. His eyes caught the light, warm and dark and unbearably earnest.
Despite my own words of a few moments before, a fierce longing unfurled inside me.
I wanted to cross the tiny distance separating us and kiss him so thoroughly I would be able to forget all my concerns and worries.
It would be a boon to give in to that burning drive urging me to cross the few feet between us and satisfy the ache intensifying in my chest. There wasn’t anyone else to see.
No one would know. Baron and I both wanted it, so what would the harm be, really?
Baron was looking at me as if he wanted me to do exactly what I was thinking about.
My resolve nearly crumbled.
I stood abruptly so quickly that I almost tripped. If I didn’t leave now, there was a good chance I wouldn’t leave at all.
“It’s my turn for the watch,” I said, my voice breathless. “You need rest.”
I pushed through the tent flap before he could reply. The cold night air hit my face like a slap, but it didn’t cool the heat in my chest. Behind me, I heard Baron exhale like he’d been holding his breath ever since I touched him.