Royal Feud

Chapter 46

Chapter 46

He opened his clothes chest and pulled out a small wooden box tied with a gold ribbon and handed it to her. She could not remember the last time she had received a gift. Smiling, she untied the ribbon and took off the lid. She stilled when she saw the gold cross pendant lying inside the box. The cross was studded with jewels-brillian rubies, emeralds, and diamonds sparkled in the candlelight. "Oh, Delvin," she breathed, stunned. "Tis beautiful." She looked up at his smiling

face. "Thank you." "You are welcome," Delvin said. "Shall I put it on you?"

"Aye." She turned and lifted her wimple so he could fasten the necklace around her neck. The gold chain was long so the cross pendant lay between her breasts. She touched it in awe, still not able to believe he was giving her such a costly gift.

"Do I get a thank-you kiss?"

"Aye."

She dropped the pendant and pivoted to face him. Putting her hands on his waist to sready herself, she raised her face to his while he lowered his head to meet her. She kissed him with all the love that filled her heart. Gradually she drew back from him and met his searching eyes. Sliding her arms around his waist, she laid her head on his shoulder as he enclosed her in his arms.

A laric rode at the head of his men, leading them through a dense thicket of trees, all the time scanning the woods for any sign of danger. After sending the huntsmen back to the castle with the dogs and the stag they had slain, he lingered in the forest with his men, hoping to attract attention and end the waiting. Spring had filled the bare branches of the trees with fresh green leaves, but the cold rain had turned the day gray and miserable. Delvin shook his head to clear away the rain dripping from his coif into his eyes and down his neck.

He was tired of this endless waiting. It had been two months since the attack on him. If Morefy didn't make a move soon, he was considering taking the fight to him in Narhex. He sighed, chiding himself. As satisfying as that course of action would be, it was out of the question. He had no proof Morefy was behind the assassination attempt. Although Langston had been interrogated several times, he still resolutely maintained his innocence. Delvin was beginning to feel guilty for Langston's long incarceration. Hermione had not broached the subject of Langston since their violent confrontation at the beginning of March, but he knew she was troubled about her friend.

Thoughts of Hermione warmed him. He had taken Hugh's advice and been courting his wife. Whereas before, when he had been training her to accept his touch, he had only been concerned with her physical reaction, he now found himself vitally interested in all her feelings. He shared activities with her that he knew she would enjoy-riding, taking walks along the allure, playing chess. Mostly, they talked.

Mindful of his castellan's counsel that Hermione would be in command of the castle should he be away or if something should happen to him, he started educating her about the garrison and the castle defenses. He found her an apt and keenly interested pupil. She had an excellent understanding of tactics and strategies, no doubt honed by her own harrowing experiences.

With his mind occupied, Delvin let his vigilance slip. He rode unsuspectingly into the trap. A rope sprang up from the thick smashing into Geneir's chest. The horse reared back, furiously pawing at the air. An arrow slammed into Delvin's calf, another into his uncovered arm. Geneir's front hooves crashed down, the violence of the movement sending Delvin tumbling to the ground.

The quiet forest suddenly reverberated with the screams of horses, the shouts of men, and the clank of steel as hordes of men in tattered garments ambushed them. Staggering to his feet, Delvin drew his sword from his scabbard. He dispatched one assailant with a sharp stab to the chest, only to have two other men rush him. He swerved, avoiding one blade, and engaged another. Slashing and hacking with his sword, Delvin heard the cry of a horn. Ishton had been notified of the attack. Belwick would immediately dispatch the castle garrison, as they had planned. They just needed to hold out until help arrived.

He glanced back to see how his men were faring. Two were on the ground, dead. Roger and Gordon were off their horses, trying to make their way toward him. Delvin retreated toward his men, parrying the attacks aimed at him, shouting orders as he went. When he reached Roger and Gordon, they stood in formation, their backs to each other.

Wave after wave of the attackers assailed them. Gordon went down. Delvin and Roger stood back to back, fighting for their lives. A blade escaped Delvin's vigilance, slicing into his neck.

Time ceased to have meaning as they battled against overwhelming odds. Delvin saw

Bernard, who had been following them and who had joined the battle after sounding

the alarm, take a mortal blow to the chest.

Fiercely Delvin fought. A sword cut his thigh...another, his arm. Roger fell under the brutal barrage. A sword cut into Delvin's waist, finding the opening in his mail, and sliced up through his chest. He staggered under the lethal hit and collapsed to the ground. Blow after blow assaulted him as he lost consciousness,

The thunder of hooves filled the air as Belwick raced into the thicket. The few remaining attackers were cut down as they tried to flee. Frantic, Belwick scanned the c*****e. Dead bodies were strewn on the ground, and it appeared as if no one was alive

but the men who had just arrived. "Delvin," Belwick shouted.

Anguish tore at him as he quickly dismounted, issuing orders to his men. They searched through the corpses, separating the ambushers from their own. "Sir Hugh!" Matthew yelled. ""Tis Lord Ishton."

Belwick rushed to where the young soldier knelt next to Delvin's prone body and dropped down on one knee beside his lord. Delvin's body was shrouded with so much blood it was almost impossible to see his injuries. Laying a shaking hand against the uninjured side of Delvin's neck, Belwick closed his eyes in prayer as he felt for a pulse. Hope returned when he detected the faint beating of Delvin's heart. "He lives," the castellan announced.

Belwick's long years of experience took over as he shouted orders. After stripping the mail and outer garments from Delvin, Belwick applied a tourniquet to Delvin's thigh to stop the flow of blood, while Matthew pressed his cloak against the wound on

Delvin's chest. The castellan dispatched Geoffrey to ride to the castle to prepare them to treat Delvin. He instructed four soldiers to fashion a stretcher to carry Delvin and ordered the rest of the men to lay out the bodies of their fallen comrades. Belwick put Sir Ralph in charge of the men who remained behind, searching the enemy dead for signs of their identity and affiliation.

It was a slow journey back to the castle as the four men carefully carried the stretcher. Belwick and Matthew had managed to bind up the most serious of Delvin's wounds, but Hugh was well aware that Delvin hovered near death. In agony, Belwick silently berated himself. He should have argued with Delvin more strenuously when he had first proposed this rash plan. The thought of Delvin's death was unimaginable.

Hermione waited on the crenellations above the main gate, searching for any sign of Delvin's return. Geoffrey had reported the ambush and that Delvin was grievously injured. She had prepared everything she would need to treat him. Now all she could do was to pray and to wait.

"Milady, they're coming." The guard's agitated voice cut into her prayer. He pointed toward the band of men emerging from the forest, carrying a stretcher. Anguish filled her as she watched their painstaking progress. When they drew closer. she could make out Belwick walking beside the litter, his attention firmly fixed on Delvin.

Dear God, keep Delvin alive, Hermione silently prayed. Heal his wounds. Please let him live. She repeated the litany over and over in her mind. When the men crossed the drawbridge, Hermione raced down the turret steps and out the main gate to meet them. The sight of Delvin's blood-soaked body slammed into her.

and she faltered, agony engulfing her. She raised tortured eyes to Belwick.

"He is near death, milady," Belwick said in a hollow tone, the depth of his own

grief apparent in his drawn, gray face. Lord, give me strength, Hermione prayed. Help me know what to do. Please heal Delvin. Let him live.

She walked next to the stretcher, on the opposite side from Belwick, as the men carried Delvin through the main gate and through the outer ward. All activity in the inner ward stopped when they entered. All eyes were fixed on Delvin. The unnerving quiet was oppressive, overflowing with sorrow. Father Thomas joined the entourage as Delvin was carried through the hall and up the stairs.

When they reached the bedchamber, the four of them-Hermione, Belwick, Father Thomas, and Renwold-lifted Delvin's limp, unconscious body from the litter and laid him on the bed. The stretcher-bearers quietly filed out of the room. Father Thomas began to administer last rites to Delvin as Hermione removed the strips of cloth wrapped around Delvin's chest, revealing his most serious injury.

"We have to stop the bleeding." Alarmed, Hermione looked up at Belwick where he stood beside her. "We cannot cauterize this wound. "Tis too close to his heart. What if I sew it up? Do you think that will stop the bleeding?"

""Tis worth a try," Belwick replied. When Renwold fetched the sewing supplies, she heated the strongest sewing needle

in the brazier to clean it before she started to piece Delvin's jagged flesh back together. She inserted the needle deeply into the skin on one side of the gash and brought it up through the opposite side, knotting the individual lengths of thread.

Belwick worked closely with her, cutting the threads after she completed the stitches and handing her new pieces of thread. Father Thomas, when he had finished administering Extreme Unction to Delvin, left his bedside and went to the prie-dieu a the side of the room. The priest's muffled prayers could occasionally be heard. providing a soothing counterpoint to the tumult and commotion surrounding her as she treated her husband's injuries. After she finished sewing Delvin's chest wound, she and Belwick uncovered the deep wound on his leg. It was still bleeding freely.

""Twill have "Aye," Hermione agreed.

to be cauterized," Belwick stated.

She checked Delvin's pulse. He was still alive. How much more trauma could his body endure?