Page 54 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
It was all over. Her fears had been unfounded.
Edwin shook his head. “Not yet.”
Ralph had managed to stay on his horse. Pulling himself back into a seated position, he roared at a servant to fetch his shield, and more servants rushed onto the field to present each finalist with a fresh lance.
“They’re going to run again,” Edwin said.
Her stomach twisted into a thick, hard knot.
“Harald…”
Her voice was barely audible, but as she spoke, her husband looked up and met her gaze. He touched her favor, still tied round his arm, and lifted his fingers to his lips. She mirrored the gesture.
“May God protect you, my love.”
As before the herald lifted his arm to signal the competitors to ready themselves, but Eloise only had eyes for her husband.
A gasp from the crowd made her glance across the field. The other horse was already moving. By the time Harald stirred his horse, Ralph had gained full speed. Struggling to gain momentum, Harald held his lance too low. With Ralph’s horse bearing down on him at a full gallop Harald’s only hope was defense.
Eloise clenched her hands into fists as Harald leaned back in the saddle. He raised his shield but in his defensive position he held it too high. She saw every motion—the point of impact as Ralph’s lance smashed through Harald’s shield, Harald dropping his lance, his arm raised in a futile attempt to prevent the inevitable.
He fell backwards off his mount, the shattered remnants of his shield scattering into the air. The horse continued forward, but Harald’s foot had tangled in the reins and the animal dragged him along behind.
The sound of screaming drowned out the crowd and she fought past the spectators and ran out onto the field, just in time to see two men lift her husband’s limp form onto a stretcher.
Harald was not moving.
A hand caught her wrist. “It’s not safe on the field, sister.”
“Let me go, Edwin!” she cried. “I need to be with him.”
She pushed through the crowd and ran to her husband. Someone had removed his helmet. His hair, slicked with sweat and dirt, clung limply to his face which had a gray pallor. His chest shuddered and strained gasps came from his mouth, lips drawn back to reveal gritted teeth.
He was alive, but in pain.
The source of his pain was plain to see. His right leg was twisted and misshapen, dark red liquid pooling on the stretcher, staining the canvass. Harald’s steward stood beside the stretcher, his face showing acceptance of his master’s death.
Eloise addressed him, her voice wavering.
“Collin, have my husband taken to the outbuilding beside my store.”
“There’s nothing you can do,” Edwin interrupted. “Let others see to him.”
“He’smyresponsibility,” she spoke firmly. “Do not deny me.”
“What about the victor?” Collin asked. Eloise looked up to see Ralph dismounting his horse, Roswyn running up to congratulate him.
“You deal with him, Collin,” she said. “Take my place at the feast tonight. I shall be tending to my husband instead. Now, follow me.”
By the time they reached the outbuilding, Jeanette had already lit a fire and placed a pot of water over it. Eloise cleared the table occupying the center of the room, then directed the servants to lay Harald on it.
“Remove his armor and clothes.”
The men unbuckled the armor plates and sliced Harald’s clothes off with knives. He was regaining consciousness, groaning with each movement, his chest heaving with exertion.
“Dear God!” One of the servants, a mere lad, stepped back with a cry.
“Take that boy out, now.” Eloise said sharply. “I’ll have nobody in here who’s incapable of tending to my husband without fainting.”
