Chapter 22
Serena met her husband’s harsh glare as he loosened his embrace. The blood that splattered his hauberk was now smeared across her clothes. His eyes were like shards of steel and his anger a tangible thing. But still she had to know. “You are well, my lord?”
Ignoring her question, he demanded instead, “What were you thinking coming to York, a place you knew would see battle? A place you might have been killed?”
She spoke the truth for she had no other reason to give him. “I thought only of you and Steinar. I would see neither of you harmed.”
“I am a man of war, Serena, and Steinar chose to be here with the rebels, knowing what he would face. But you, a woman, might have been wounded, raped or worse!” His chestnut brows drew together in a frown so severe she shrank back.
He grabbed her upper arms and shook her.
“Did you not consider my wish that you remain at Talisand where you would be safe?”
She could see fear in his eyes and knew it was for her. At that moment, she was glad she’d not told him of the child she carried. His anger would then know no bounds. “I’m not sorry I disobeyed you, my lord. I could not stand idly by while you and my brother were in danger. I had to be here.”
“Did you not trust me?” he pleaded. “Did you not believe I could defeat the mercenary?”
“I was worried.” Was it the face of a caring husband she looked into?
“Aye, well, if ’twas worry for your brother, the English rebel I encountered earlier with your same eyes and hair was still standing when I left him.
But William is not yet through with York, Serena.
Of that, I am certain. He has ordered the torching of the city, and he intends to build a castle here where he will garrison hundreds of his knights. ”
“Your Norman castles are becoming as numerous as the stars,” she said, unable to resist the sarcasm.
“And just as cold.” She did not want to fight him.
She wanted him to take her in his arms again and hold her again.
For all her bravado, the sight of the battle had taken its toll.
Feeling wobbly, she needed his strength. And she wanted his love.
“You fight what you cannot change, Serena.”
“I know you are right,” she said casting her gaze to the field of bodies lying in the sun, “but I cannot do otherwise.” She looked up to study his face and saw the anger that still lingered.
“I loathe the burning, Renaud. Must it always be? The English cause is lost. You have won. Why destroy all that remains of this city? On our way here, Rhodri and I saw many cottars’ homes laid waste. It was horrible.”
“The fires were set on William’s order.”
“Must he be so cruel?”
“William intends to put his stamp on York so the Northumbrians will not soon forget. Come,” he took her arm, “I will see you back to my tent where Jamie waits.”
“Nay” she wrenched her arm free. “I must find Steinar first. I must see him!”
From the midst of the body-strewn battlefield, she heard Rhodri’s shout, “Serena, over here!”
Without thinking and fearing the worst, Serena ran toward the sound of the bard’s voice.
Renaud shouted, “Serena, wait!”
She did not turn back, but as she ran, she heard his heavy steps following.
They reached Rhodri together. The Welshman was kneeling beside the still form of a wounded Northumbrian. She knew even before she looked upon his face that it was her brother. His helm had been removed and the ends of his long blond hair were matted with blood, as was his tunic.
“Steinar!” Falling to her knees, Serena took his limp hand between hers. His skin was cold. His eyes fluttered open, the same blue violet eyes that were her own.
“Ser…Serena,” he breathed haltingly. “How—”
She smoothed the blood-spattered hair from his face. “Steinar, do not talk. I am here and I will get help.”
“What wounds has he?” Renaud asked Rhodri from where he stood above her.
“His right leg, my lord. A nasty gash, and the bone is badly broken. We must get him to a healer, and soon. He has already lost much blood.”
Serena’s eyes shifted to her brother’s bloody leg. “I’ll need help with the bone,” she explained, “but for the rest, I’ll tend him myself.”
“Serena, there are others—” Renaud urged.
“Nay! I’ll not leave Steinar in the hands of others, but I would be grateful if you could ask your Norman healer to set the leg. We must move him where we can clean the wound.”
“I will carry him,” said Renaud. His words brought her comfort.
“Let me first try and staunch the bleeding,” she said. “Fetch my satchel, Rhodri, and two sticks.”
Rhodri returned with two sticks and her satchel containing the herbs and bandages she had brought with her. She did what she could with Rhodri’s help, and then stood wiping her hands on her tunic.
“I can do no more here.”
Renaud lifted Steinar and began to stride away. She and Rhodri trailed behind the tall knight whose strength never wavered as he plodded through the muck of the field to where the Norman tents were clustered some distance away.
“Serena!” Jamie exclaimed as she followed his master into the tent. She gave the boy a quick hug. Jamie’s face looked stricken when he recognized the one Renaud carried. “Is Steinar—?”
“I do not know, Jamie,” she said, setting to work.
“Mathieu,” the Red Wolf addressed his squire, “fetch some water from the stream and see that one of the king’s healers is summoned. ’Tis my lady’s brother who lies wounded.”
“Yea, my lord,” said the squire, darting a glance at the wounded English warrior laying on the pallet before hurrying off to do his lord’s bidding.
Serena lifted Steinar’s tunic off his leg and, as carefully as she could, peeled down his hose.
With a sharp knife, she cut the braies from his thigh.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and blurred her vision as she took in the terrible wound he had suffered.
A sword had cut him to the bone below the knee and the blow had left the bone sticking out of the wound.
The damage was such she could not be certain it would heal, or that he would even survive.
Rhodri and Jamie dropped to her side offering their help.
As she worked on Steinar, Renaud’s knights returned, one by one, to report to their lord. Sir Alain was wounded with a slash to his face. There was so much blood on the men it was difficult to tell whose blood it was.
Her husband expressed his thanks to God his knights were still on their feet, though he had lost a few men-at-arms.
Sir Geoffroi entered the overcrowded space. She barely noticed him as she gave her attention to Steinar. But she heard the knight say, “I have news, Ren.”
Renaud and Sir Geoffroi stepped out of the tent to confer in hushed tones.
Serena was weary when her husband returned to the tent, vaguely aware that he donned a clean tunic as she finished her work.
Coming to where she knelt, Renaud looked down. “I go to see William, but I will not be long. The healer should be here shortly. When I return, we have much to discuss, my lady.”
Seeing his stern countenance, Serena could only imagine what he wanted to say.