Chapter 4 #2
Anger burned in his dark eyes and Heather wondered whether he was angry with her or God. “Your skill may have saved you, but only God can save some of your men.”
Rhys removed his helmet. “My men have been trained to tend wounds.”
“Good. The more hands to help tend, the better chance the wounded will survive. Carriers will need to be made for some of the injured.”
“It will be seen to,” Rhys said and held his hand out to her.
Heather noticed that several ghost warriors had gathered behind him, and it suddenly struck her. “You cannot mean to send me on to McComb keep.”
Not only light on her feet, but a quick wit as well. There was much more to his wife than he had realized. “You will be safe there.”
“I am safe here and I am needed here.”
Rhys dropped his hand to his side and took a step toward her. “It is not a request. You will do as I command.”
A ghost warrior came running toward them and Rhys stepped forward to meet him. They spoke in whispers and when Rhys turned, he said, “You will stay here until I return for you. My men will protect you.”
He turned and was gone before Heather could say a word.
She wondered what was going on, who the attacking warriors were and why had they been able to attack the Dark Dragon when his ghost warriors seemed to see and hear everything?
But she had no time to dwell on the haunting questions.
She had to tend to the wounded. Once there was time she would pursue answers, for she feared that this battle was not over—it had just begun.
* * *
Heather rolled her shoulders back to ease the ache in her back.
She did not know how long she had been working on the injured and with no sun it was difficult to tell how much time had passed.
She did not even know when the clouds had moved in overhead, she had been so busy.
She was relieved that most of the injured had not suffered severe wounds.
With care, they would survive. A few others she was not so sure about.
She saw those who could not walk settled on carriers that were built so they could rest comfortably and would not be made to move when it was time to leave. She wished they were already on their way, the clouds gathering more heavily overhead in the last hour or so.
“You should rest, my lady,” the young warrior she sat beside said.
She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled. “There will be time for that soon enough, Douglas.”
“You have done more than your share and your garment proves it. There is barely anything left of it.”
Heather startled when she saw how much of her garment she had torn apart. Both arms lay exposed and her legs up to her knees as well. She had also torn a piece off by her chest, leaving the top of her one breast to appear as if it would spill out at any moment.
“I had not realized,” she said softly, trying to pull the torn garment together.
“You thought of others’ needs, not yourself, and for that we are all grateful.” He coughed and winced as he did. “I fear I will not survive. Will you tell my wife, Bea that I love her and I am sorry I will not be here to see our child born?”
“That is nonsense, Douglas. You will live and see your babe and many more babes born.”
“I pray that be so.”
“Then fight and make it so,” the deep voice snapped.
Heather jumped and Douglas struggled to raise himself in the presence of the Dark Dragon. His helmet was gone, his dark hair free to fall to his shoulders and his handsome face set in tight lines.
Rhys lowered himself to rest on his haunches and placed his hand firmly on Douglas’s shoulder, stopping him from moving.
“Stay as you are. As a fine warrior, you instinctively know what weapons prove the most useful in battle. The weapons you need for this battle are rest and determination to heal and I expect you to use both.”
Douglas nodded. “As you say, my lord, though I surely would have died if Lady Heather had not pulled me off the battlefield and tended my wound shortly after I had fallen. She is a kind and brave woman.”
Rhys looked at his wife, his eyes going directly to her partially exposed breasts, then her bare arms, and finally taking in her bare legs. He stood and walked around to her, slipping off his cloak and draping it over her shoulders before gripping them and pulling her to her feet.
“Rest, Douglas, we will leave soon and you will ride in one of the carts and be home to Bea before you know it.”
Before anymore could be said, Rhys hurried Heather off to a more secluded spot, and she rushed to speak before he could. “Forgive my improper appearance, my concern was for the injured and I did not realize how indecent I appeared.”
“You will never again strip yourself as you did today,” he ordered sternly.
“I cannot promise that,” she said quickly, “for if needed, I would so the same again.”
“So, you blatantly tell me you will disobey me?”
“I tell you the truth, something I hope will always pass between us.”
He felt her words like a punch to his gut.
She would always be honest with him. Unfortunately, he was unable to reciprocate.
His response was terse and hasty. “It is time to go.” He hurried her forward and without thinking she rushed away from him to tend the more severely injured as they were loaded into the cart.
Rhys almost reached out and stopped her, but at the last moment he let her be. Later he would lay down some rules and God help her if she did not obey them.
Heather took a look at Douglas’s wound before she allowed them to place him in the cart. She had no choice. The wound had to be seared before he could travel and even then she was not sure if he would survive.
She ordered a fire built and the warriors were quick to summon Rhys.
“Before you argue with me,” Heather said when he stopped in front of her, “please understand that if his wound is not seared shut, he will not survive the journey home.”
“See it done,” Rhys ordered his men and turned to walk away.
“I request that I be allowed to accompany him in the cart.”
“No,” Rhys said bluntly.
“But—”
“Do not question me on this,” he snapped. “Be satisfied with what I have granted you.” He turned and walked away.
Heather turned her attention to the task ahead to keep her mind from dwelling on the fact that she now had to seek permission from someone after years of doing as she pleased.
It was not something she could or wanted to comprehend right now.
At the moment, making certain Douglas survived the journey was what she needed to think on.
Everything was prepared quickly and the task performed just as hastily. Heather was glad Douglas had passed out from the pain of the searing. He could then be placed on the cart and not suffer more pain until he woke.
Once it was done, Heather was surprised to see that she would ride her own mare. She pressed her face to the mare’s face and whispered, “It is good to see you, Meadow. I will find you a nice field where you can enjoy your wild onions.”
As if she understood, the mare nodded, and Heather smiled. It vanished quickly, startled when hands caught at her waist, and she was lifted with ease onto the horse. She looked down at her husband with wide eyes.
He placed his hand on her bare leg. “Do not grow so alarmed when touched, for the only hands you will ever feel on you—are mine.” He mounted his horse that waited a short distance from them and guided the animal alongside hers.
Meadow snorted as if displeased with the stallion’s presence and Heather reached out to calm her with a soothing hand.
“I have things I must see to. I will see you at the keep.”
Heather wondered over his abrupt departure but did not dwell on it. She was bone-tired and wanted nothing more than to reach the keep and have this day end. Or did she?
Tonight she would see her marriage to the Dark Dragon consummated.