Page 24 of Always
“Our three-year-old daughter,” I replied, unsure whether I could trust her yet to reveal the princesses’ identities. “Along with our newborn babe.”
It was her turn to study me, taking in my body and face, likely deducing I didn’t have the figure of a woman who’d recently given birth, and concluding I was no peasant. Whatever her thoughts, she kept them to herself and instead nodded at my arm. “We should get you both to the abbey and tend your wounds.”
Blood had seeped through my sleeve, turning the material a deep crimson. Although my arm still stung, the pain was bearable.
At the sight of my blood, Lance’s brows furrowed above worried eyes. “We would be grateful. But first I’ll kill the wolves so they can’t chase us down again.”
“There’s no need. The sleeping herbs are quick-acting but will last several hours.” Sister Katherine kicked at a piece of half-eaten raw meat she’d apparently laced with the concoction and tossed into their midst. “They won’t be able to track us since I’ll cover our trail with a dusting of mountain essence.”
Mountain essence? My curiosity perked, but before I could ask her more, Lance was already spinning and limping back to the shaft door. Only then did I notice the way his calf-length boot had been ripped away and his hose stuck to his leg, outlining indentations where the wolf had gouged his flesh. The surrounding area was dark and damp, the blood continuing to seep out and run down his leg.
Seeing the direction of my gaze, Lance slashed the hem of his tunic with his knife. The linen gave way with a sharp rend. Then he wrapped the strip tightly around his calf, apparently to staunch the flow of blood. He did so with ease as if he made an everyday practice of binding wounds. When he straightened and continued, I knew that was his way of telling me he’d taken care of the problem and wanted me to proceed without giving his injury another thought.
Within minutes, we had the princesses and horses ready to go.
“You should ride,” Sister Katherine said to Lance as he limped forward, leading his steed with Constance astride holding one satchel. I led my mount carrying the other bag.
“The horses are too worn,” Lance said.
“Your injury is severe.” Sister Katherine cocked her head toward his leg as though she could see through the mangled boot and hose to the flesh underneath. “And the climb is steep.”
“We’ll travel by foot as long as we’re able.” The lines in his face were taut, and a sheen of perspiration had formed on his brow. “I’ll take the rear guard.”
Sister Katherine pursed her lips as if holding herself back from admonishing him. After a moment, she handed him a pouch. “Very well. Then I shall need you to sprinkle a consistent dusting of this powder over our trail.” Without another word, she started off, gesturing for me to follow.
The path wound through the ravine, and every plodding step up the gradual incline reminded me of my exhaustion. After some time, we came to a dead end at a smooth stone wall that rose steeply. I didn’t know why Sister Katherine had led us to the secluded spot. Although a part of me knew it was far-fetched, my mind immediately began to consider dangerous possibilities. What if she’d trapped us and would now kill us?
I was surprised when she swept aside a large thorny gorse bush and stone to reveal a dark tunnel. With a gentle smile that seemed to show she’d known the turn of my thoughts, Sister Katherine disappeared into the opening.
We ducked inside, the horses having to hold their necks low to fit. Lance carefully replaced the brush and stone before we started down the passageway. Even without a torch to light our way, a dim glow led us until it finally materialized into an opening that took us back outside. After again positioning gorse and stone to hide the tunnel, we continued upward on a rocky path that was hardly suitable for human feet, much less the horses. They stumbled and snorted, clearly weary and ready to collapse.
As my legs turned to hot mush from the exertion and my breath came in short bursts, I wanted nothing more than to climb onto my horse and ride the rest of the way. But every time I looked at Lance, I reminded myself to be strong, like him. His limp from his wound grew more pronounced with each bend we rounded. Yet he didn’t complain, not even with the tiniest of groans.
I had reached the point where I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hike when a bend in the path revealed the entirety of the Eastern Plains as far as the eye could see, maybe to Everly and the Upper Cress River and beyond. The view was not only breathtaking but disquieting. This nun could have been watching us for days. If so, did she realize we were more than a simple peasant family fleeing from Everly? And what would she do to us if she discovered who we really were?
Before I could voice my fears, Lance spoke behind me, his voice hoarse. “Felicia, you must sprinkle the herbs now.”
I swiveled in time to see him sway. His eyes rolled back in his head. And then he crumpled to the rocky path.
A sharp cry of protest fell from my lips, and anxiety seized my heart for this brave man who could run for hours without tiring, go days without sleep, and fight multiple wolves single-handedly. He was made of a will and character stronger than the finest iron mined in Mercia. I knew he had to be near death to stop moving and protecting the princesses.
I knelt beside him, felt for the pulse in his neck, and prayed he was still alive.
Chapter
10
Lance
I fought tobreak free of death’s grip. I wrestled fiercely with the black beast, slashing it and forcing it to stay at arm’s length.
I didn’t know how much longer I could fight it off. I was so tired and thirsty, ready to let my arm drop in weariness and my knees buckle in exhaustion. I wanted nothing more than to simply sleep, as I had when I’d been a lad still living at home. In the crowded one-room house made of wattle and daub with a thatched roof, I’d been safe on my mat in front of the center fireplace. I’d known my father was nearby, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me or the rest of my family.
Why couldn’t I be that boy again? Walking in my father’s shadow? If only I’d resisted his aspirations for me to become a knight and had stayed in the smelter working alongside him. Maybe then I would have been able to rescue him from the explosion. Perhaps I could have pulled him to safety in time.
Not only had I been unable to save him, but I was losing a battle in saving myself. I couldn’t remember anymore why it was so important to do so. Why not succumb to death’s hold? What reason did I have to struggle so hard against it?
I tried to make my mind work. But all I knew was that I was fighting. Always fighting. And this time it was against death.
