Royal Feud

Chapter 40

Chapter 40

"Someone tried to kill me." Delvin grasped the fabric tightly against his side, using both of his hands. "He threw that knife directly at me. Search the woods. See if you can find any trace of him. He came from that direction." Delvin pointed with his head.

"Aye, milord. You should just rest while I take care of everything." Men on horseback crashed through the brush, rapidly filling the clearing. Roger took charge, assigning Langston to search for the assassin and Geoffrey to ride back to the castle to alert the garrison of his wounds and their imminent return. At Roger's orders, Matthew stripped off his own cloak and tore it into pieces, which Roger used to bind the wound on Delvin's side. With the remaining material from the cloak, Roger fashioned another pad and placed it against Delvin's shoulder wound, binding it into place as well.

"Milord, can you ride back to the castle?" Roger asked.

"Aye. Help me up."

He grasped Roger's forearm and sluggishly stood. Matthew brought Delvin's stallion over to him and held it steady as the knight helped Delvin mount. Once in the saddle, Delvin paused, breathing heavily and fighting the pain that engulfed him. He leaned over the pommel, looking at the boar's head.

"Roger, bring me that knife." He nodded toward the boar. The knight strode over to the animal and yanked the knife out of its carcass. After cleaning the blood from the blade on the grass, Roger brought the knife over to him. Delvin examined the weapon, searching for any clue as to its owner. The simple knife was frustratingly ordinary, the kind of tool everyone owned. He slid it into his boot.

Langston strode back into the clearing and walked to where Roger waited beside Delvin's horse.

"Milord, Sir Roger," Langston said, "I could find no trace of anyone else in the forest."

"Let us go back." Delvin locked his eyes on Langston's face. "Bring the boar." The huntsman hastened to obey his order. Delvin turned his horse and eased it into a canter, heading toward home. Every stride of the horse jarred his body, sending pain shooting through him. By the time they reached the drawbridge, he was weaving slightly in his saddle. Delvin rode cautiously up the drawbridge, through the outer bailey and to the stables. He accepted Roger's aid to dismount, but then brushed away his assistance and walked on his own toward the donjon, past the workmen standing silent in the ward watching him. Roger remained close by his side.

Hermione rushed to meet Delvin, coming to an abrupt halt before him, appalled at the amount of blood covering the makeshift bandages. Delvin kept moving toward the donjon so she fell into step beside him.

"Delvin, how badly are you hurt?" "I shall live. I just need to wash up and get the wounds dressed properly. Roger, Lady Ishton will assist me now. Fetch Sir Hugh and send him to my chambers."

"Aye, milord." Roger bowed briefly and hurried away. Delvin put his arm around Hermione's shoulder, leaning heavily on her. "I am almost at the end of my strength," he muttered to her. "Help me get inside before I fall. Try to make it look like I do not need your help. I do not want my men to see me weak."

Hermione carefully put her arm around his waist, supporting more of his weight. They walked slowly up the steps of the donjon and into the hall. The steward hurried over to meet them and accompanied them across the floor. "Milady, all is in readiness," Renwold said. "The hot water, cloths, and the

medicines you requested have all been laid out for you in the lord's bedchamber."

"Thank you, Renwold," Hermione said. "I will attend to Lord Ishton myself." "Have Sir Hugh come up to my chamber immediately," Delvin ordered.

"Aye, milord."

By the time Hermione got Delvin settled on the bed, she was breathless from her

exertions. She sat beside him, careful not to jostle him and cause him more pain.

"Which wound is the most serious?" she asked.

"The side, I think," he grunted. "The boar ripped me up pretty badly." Hermione untied the binding and carefully pulled the blood-soaked bandage away from his side, hearing Delvin's sharp inhalation as she did so. Blood still seeped from the

large gashes that lacerated his skin. Dipping a cloth into a mixture of warm water and wine, she washed the wounds, wiping the blood and dirt away.

"I will bind this as tightly as I can to try to stop the flow of blood."

"Aye."

After folding a piece of linen into a pad, she placed it over the lesions. Taking a longer strip of linen, she wrapped it tightly around his waist to hold the bandage in place. The heavy knock on the door caused her to look up into Delvin's gray face, etched in pain.

"Enter," Delvin said.

Belwick came into the chamber, closing the door behind him, and walked the bed. "What happened, milord?" The castellan's voice was calm, and his demeanor was toward

matter-of-fact.

Delvin told them briefly and dispassionately how he had come to be injured. He drew the knife out of his boot and handed it to Belwick. "I want you to put Langston in the pit prison.

"Nay," Hermione protested. "Delvin, you cannot possibly think that trying to kill you. He would never do such a horrible thing."

Damien was

Delvin narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "This was the first time he joined the hunt. I saw him ride into the clearing from the direction the knife was thrown. Until I have proof otherwise, I am going to hold Langston responsible."

Hermione stared at her husband. "Delvin, you are making a terrible would never try to hurt you. He is an honorable man."

mistake. Damien

"I would rather be sorry than dead." Delvin declared. "I cannot take any chances. Hugh, see to Langston's imprisonment immediately." Delvin closed his eyes. "Aye, milord." Belwick bowed and left the room.

Recognizing that arguing with him now was only serving to harden his resistance, Hermione pursed her lips together. Once she had the wounds on his side stabilized, she turned her attention to his shoulder, washing the cut as gently and care. could manage. as she

"This wound is not very deep. Thankfully, it missed your heart and other vital organs," Hermione said.

Delvin mumbled something indecipherable, and she realized that his strength was almost depleted. In silence she laid a pad of clean linen against his cut and bound it tightly to his shoulder, using another strip of cloth. When she was done, she washed

her hands in clean water and filled a goblet with wine and brought it back to the bed.

"Delvin, would you like to drink some wine?"

"Aye."

She helped him up into a semi-seated position and held the cup as he drank from it. "Next time I go hunting, I will wear my mail."

"Are you hungry, milord?" "Nay." He handed her the half-full goblet and lay down in the bed.

"You should rest and regain your strength." "Aye." Delvin closed his eyes and slept.

Hermione sat in a chair she pulled up to the side of the bed, watching for signs of restlessness in Delvin that would indicate he had a fever. She knew that infection of the wound was the most dangerous threat Delvin now faced. Periodically she got up and laid her cheek on his forehead, testing his temperature.

As she watched her husband sleeping, she slipped into prayer.

Most merciful Lord, thank You for sparing Delvin's life. Please heal his wounds and restore him to health. Guard and protect him from all harm. Help him to see his accusations against Damien are completely untrue. Be with Damien and comfort and protect him. Help him to be patient and to find Your peace. Oh, Lord, help me to trust in You and wait upon You. Give me Your peace that passes all understanding. I ask that Your will be done in all things. In Jesus' name, I pray, amen.

A quiet knock disturbed her vigil. She opened the door to find both Belwick and Renwold and stepped out into the hallway so as not to disturb Delvin. The castellan's face was stoic, but the steward's thin lips were pinched into a frown.

"Milady." Belwick asked, "how is Lord Ishton doing?" "Delvin is asleep. So far, he does not have a fever."

"God be praised," Renwold said.

"That is good news, milady." Belwick's mouth curved into a slight smile as he

nodded.

"Aye," Hermione agreed. "I will watch him tonight. If he does not develop a fever, and the wound on his side stops bleeding, I think he should recover quickly." "Shall I bring up some supper for you, milady?" the steward offered.

"Aye, Renwold, that would be most welcome. Thank you." All of a sudden Hermione

felt tired and drained.

Renwold bowed and headed downstairs. Hermione's words stopped Belwick as he turned to follow the steward. "Sir Hugh, may

I speak with you for a moment?" "Aye, milady," Belwick replied, walking back toward het.

"In what kind of conditions is Langston being held?"

"Milady, the pit prison is under the donjon. 'Tis a space measuring three ells by

three ells. Langston has a supply of candles, food, and water. Let me assure you that

prisoners have never been tortured nor deprived here at Ishton."

"Thank you for that reassurance, Sir Hugh." Hermione paused. "You do not think

that Langston tried to kill Delvin, do you?" "Milady, 'tis not my place to question my lord's orders. 'Tis my duty to obey them.