Page 145 of Feathers in the Wind
No, he can’t be dead…
With difficulty, she wriggled out from underneath him. Her heart hammering, she knelt beside his senseless body, her hands fluttering uselessly over him. Blood matted his dark hair just above his right ear, dripping down his face and transforming the familiar features into a bloody mask.
A musket ball zinged past her ear and she looked up. A gaping hole in the wall yawned at the very place where she and Luke had been standing arguing about Truscott only moments before. Bits of rock and dust lay scattered across the full width of the remaining platform of the tower. Nothing stood between her and a long fall to the ground and she was completely exposed to the enemy lines. Musketeers lined the nearest earthwork, intent on only one thing.
Her death.
She stood up and seizing Luke by the shoulders, dragged him towards the stairwell. She had no idea an unconscious man could weigh so much and without help she’d never get him down to safety. Another musket ball whistled over her head, crashing into the wall behind her.
In the shelter of the doorway, she crouched down. At least they were now out of sight of the musketeers and she could see to Luke.
She gathered herself together and forced herself to look down at his slack, blood spattered face. “You’re not dead,” she told him. “You can’t be dead.”
She tugged at his collar and her shaking fingers searched for and found the pulse in his neck, beating slow and steady. She realised she had been holding her breath and let out a sigh of relief. Having established he was still alive she turned her attention to the wound in his hairline. It had bled profusely but on close inspection did not look like much more than a deep cut.
“Luke, wake up!” She patted his cheek with some force. He stirred and moaned but did not open his eyes.
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, she looked up as Ned and two men appeared around the corner. Ned's eyes travelled from the gaping hole in the tower to Luke's unconscious face.
“He's alive,” Deliverance said in answer to the unspoken question on Ned's face.
Relief flooded Ned’s face. “And you? Are you all right?”
Deliverance nodded concealing her shaking hands in the folds of her skirt. Now she started to think about it, her legs had begun to feel most peculiar too. She sat back against the wall.
“Just a little wobbly.”
Luke... she wanted to say Luke had saved her life but couldn't find the words.
Ned knelt beside his
friend and slapped his face with considerably more force than Deliverance had used. The action provoked a groan from Luke and his eyes flickered open.
“What...? Ouch.” He closed his eyes again with a grimace.
“You've had a knock on the head, Collyer. Lots of blood but I doubt there's any real damage. You were always blessed with a thick skull.”
“Go away… my head hurts,” Luke mumbled.
Ned stood up dusting his breeches and gestured to the two soldiers waiting in the stairwell. “Get him to his chamber. I'll see to Mistress Felton.”
After the two soldiers had none-too-gently hefted Luke by his shoulders and legs and begun the tortuous descent down the narrow winding stairs, Ned put his hand out for Deliverance. She rose up on shaking legs and did not demur at the strong male arm that circled her shoulders, helping her down the stairs and across the courtyard to the sanctuary of her own bedchamber and the care of her women.
* * *
Deliverance saton the stool in her bed chamber looking down at the blood on her hands. Luke's blood. At the thought of how close they had both come to death and how he had saved her life, the tears spilled from her eyes.
What if he had died? What would she do without him?
Meg put an arm around her mistress. “There, there, ma'am,” she said. “You've had a nasty fright. I'll go and fetch a nice posset for ye.”
“I'd prefer brandy,” Deliverance said. She fumbled at her belt and handed her keys to the maid. “It's in the locked cupboard in my father's library and,” she looked up at Meg, “please release my sister and send her to me.”
“Aye, mistress. Right away,” Meg said.
As her maid reached the door, Deliverance added, “Give Lieutenant Barrett an order from me. I am reprieving Truscott's sentence of death.”
Meg's eyes widened and she bobbed a neat curtsey and left without comment.
