Page 133 of Tempted
As Tina helped Mr. Burque gather the things they might need, he was the only one in the castle who didn’t think her temporarily deranged. He marveled at how much she had matured since she had left Castle Doon just over a year ago. She gave one hundred percent of herself in any undertaking—that was her secret. That was the reason any man who had ever met her lost his heart to her. Tina lived life with a passion, experiencing all its joys and all its sorrows, yet she never let it defeat her, no matter the blows it dealt out to her Just as now, instead of being prostrate with grief, she was being practical, efficient, and tenacious as a terrier.
“We may need linen for bandages,” she reminded him. “What else will we need besides poppy and rue for pain?”
“I think yarrow would be advisable,” Mr. Burque said quietly.
“Yarrow?” Her lovely brows drew together. “It’s a yellow powder to sprinkle on wounds to clot the blood.”
“Oh, yes,” she agreed, crossing herself. “I’ll get needles and thread, just in case.”
Within the hour they were in the saddle. The weather was glorious, showing off to perfection the unequaled beauty of the border country through which they rode. The sun shone so brilliantly, it seemed a sacrilege when the flower of Scotland’s nobility lay dead and defeated on the field of valor. Surely the gods themselves should be weeping in their heavens at the almost total annihilation of such a proud realm!
Tina’s back was straight as a ramrod. Ram’s wolfhound loped along at her side. None had argued when she insisted the Boozer accompany them.
Angus had thought to set an easy pace, but the decision was taken from his hands. Valentina rode at breakneck speed that carried her far ahead of everyone save Heath. It was up to the others to keep pace or fall behind. She paid them not the slightest attention. Her mind was focused upon one thing, one goal.
When dark descended she would have ridden on, oblivious to whether it was day or night. Finally Heath dragged on her reins with his superior strength and dragged her mount to a halt. He could see she was ready to fly at him. He knew she was reckless enough to carry on alone if they refused to accompany her, so Heath said the only thing he thought might stop her. His voice was harsh and dispassionate as he laid the blunt facts before her.
“Tina, if you ride farther tonight, you will kill the horse. I know you don’t give a fiddler’s damn for poor old Angus, but I don’t believe you want animal abuse on your conscience.”
Tina was immediately contrite. Angus’s men set up campaign tents, and she, along with the men, wrapped herself in a Douglas plaid and tried to curb her insatiable impatience until the hour before dawn. Her fists clutched the dark blue and green plaid in desperation as the hours dragged slowly by. She was alone at last to think, without the others hemming her in with their anxious eyes upon her. What had they expected from her? Tears? Fainting? Hysterics? These were petty, womanish things, not nearly adequate to assuage the rage she felt within her! She wanted to lift her hand and destroy the universe and everybody in it.
An irreverent inner voice mocked, You need not destroy Scotland, she has destroyed herself!
She bit her lips in impotent frustration. She would sell her soul for a handful of thunderbolts. Just one fistful of deadly thunderbolts would do nicely. One for Henry Tudor, and another for that ugly bitch, Margaret Tudor. The Howards needed destroying, and that swine Dacre who had arrested Ram. She wanted to call down fire and brimstone upon each of them and watch them burn in the everlasting fires of Hell.
By first light, she accepted the fact that she could do nothing except mount her horse, straighten her back, hold her head high and resume her mask.
As they rode closer to the English border, they passed many mounted groups both coming and going. All had the same destination, all the same heartbreaking task: to gather their dead, their mortally wounded, their maimed.
Carrion crows circled in the sky above the battlefield, and if this did not tell them they were close, the stench did. As they sat upon Flodden Edge, the hot wind wafted up a smell like nothing they had ever experienced. Gunpowder, excrement, blood, horse sweat, rotting flesh, and the evil, sweet smell of death formed a miasma that insinuated itself into the nostrils, mouths, and throats of any who were foolish enough to approach the carnage.
“Abattoir,” murmured Mr. Burque hopelessly.
Angus thought that once Tina had glimpsed the horror of a battlefield with its mountain of dead men and horses, she would give up the unthinkable task of searching for Ram. Heath and Mr. Burque, however, knew her better than that.
As she squared her shoulders and urged her mount down to the field, they resigned themselves to aid her in her fruitless search. She went slowly now, carefully, painstakingly picking her way through the bodies riddled with arrows. Some were headless, many more were missing arms and legs. Some of these were still alive, and Tina closed her ears and her heart to their pitiful moans. Ada tried to emulate the courage of Lady Douglas, but when she saw a gang of looters stripping bodies of knives and badges, she was violently sick. Tina immediately attended to her and tore a strip from her fine shift to wipe Ada’s face. When there was no more Tina could do for her, she moved on.
She decided not to remount but stepped delicately between the dead, leading her horse behind her. Finally, even the horse revolted at the mounds of quivering horseflesh, crying in their death throes. It shook its head wildly, blew through its nostrils, and took off toward a dozen or more destriers who had survived the battle and were patiently awaiting their masters at the edge of a stream whose waters still ran red.
Tina knelt beside a fallen man with black hair, but when she managed to turn him over, she recoiled in alarm at the extent of his dismembering. From that moment on Heath insisted on going before her to examine the features of every man with black hair.
In her heart Tina now realized the task she had set herself was an impossible one. After searching for four straight hours, all the corpses started to look alike. After five hours she began to get cramps in her feet, and when she reached down to massage them, she saw that from the knee down she was soaked with filth and blood. Suddenly she began to fear for the child she carried. Under no circumstances must she harm the precious burden. Ram would never be dead while his child lived. The light was beginning to fade from the late afternoon sky when she decided to give up the search. She stumbled and Heath lifted her in his arms and knew she had no more strength. As he carried her through what had been the English camp, he heard the Boozer barking and yelping in a frenzy. He called the wolfhound to heel—then it penetrated his tired brain that perhaps the dog had found something. Tina too, had heard the commotion the Boozer was creating. She struggled in Heath’s arms, and together they stumbled over dead English to get to him.
Ram’s body was half beneath that of Ruffian’s. The horse had had its belly ripped open and in death it looked ugly, almost obscene. Ram, in contrast lay at peace, his swarthy face pale and bloodless. A lance had gone through his middle and pinned him to the earth.
Heath gave a great shout and waved to the others. He had already removed the lance by the time Mr. Burque reached them.
“The yarrow,” Tina whispered, and though Mr. Burque knew it was pointless to sprinkle yarrow upon a corpse, he did exactly what Tina expected of him. When he had finished lacing the wound with the yellow powder, he bound him tightly. It was not until Angus’s men arrived that they could free the body from the weight of the fallen horse. They carried him to the edge of the field.
Tina laid a soft hand on Heath’s sleeve. Her face was at peace. “If you can fetch a Gypsy caravan, I’ll take him home.” The lump in Heath’s throat choked him so that he could not speak He caught a wandering horse and thundered off in the direction of Kelso.
The two Douglas men-at-arms laid down their burden and went to speak with Angus. They would soon need to set up the tents again but were loath to do so at this foul and accursed place.
Mr. Burque knelt down to Tina as she crouched beside the body of her husband. The light was now almost gone, and he thought for a moment his eyes were playing a trick on him He thought he saw Ram’s still body take a shallow breath.
“Mon dieu, is it possible that he lives?”
“Of course, Mr. Burque. Did you doubt it for a moment?” she asked serenely.
