Something in his eyes wavered.
I pushed around him and stalked to the door.
“No, Rory.” He grabbed my arm.
Holding the handle, I paused and looked at his strong fingers gripping me. “Unhand me.”
He didn’t budge.
Aunt Idony approached and laid a hand upon Chester’s arm. “You must do as she says.”
“We don’t know who is out there—”
“Chester.”
He dropped his hold. I nearly trembled at the prospect of defying my protector, and yet I lifted the latch anyway. I was doing the right thing in aiding a hurt man and would not deny him the care he needed out of fear of the repercussions and danger it might bring me.
I swung the door open wide, letting the candlelight fall upon a tall young man with a lean face and dark bushy beard, a stranger who peered at me with frightened eyes. He was holding up another man who was leaning heavily upon him, his head down and overly long brown hair hanging in disarray. Blood saturated his hose. Even in the growing dusk, I could see a gash in his flesh where his hose had ripped away.
I held my breath. Was this Kresten?
As though hearing my unasked question, the injured man lifted his head and peered at me through the strands of his hair. Though his face was pale and his muscles taut, the handsome features belonged to none other than Kresten.
He fought to curve his lips into a smile. “I know—you didn’t want—to see me again—but I couldn’t resist.” Each breath was halting, and he dropped his head again, sagging against his friend.
My body tensed with a sudden urgency. Kresten was indeed badly hurt. “Bring him in.” I stepped aside and waved the taller man into the cottage.
In the next instant, Aunt Idony was at Kresten’s opposite side, slipping her arm around his waist and lending him her strength.
“Thank you,” Kresten’s companion said, his voice cracking with relief. Stumbling under the weight of Kresten and half-dragging him, he stepped inside, then slid a wary glance at Chester, whose sword was raised in one hand and his knife in the other.
I leveled a glower at Chester. “You may put your weapons away. The only peril at present is that this man may lose his life.”
Chester didn’t move and instead continued to glare at the newcomers.
“Take him into my chamber,” I instructed Aunt Idony.
Aunt Elspeth had frozen in front of the table, a dirty trencher in each hand, her wide eyes upon the strangers.
“Aunt Elspeth, we shall have need of warm water.”
She tore her attention away and focused on me, nodding vigorously. “Yes, of course, my sweeting.”
I followed Kresten into my room off the main living area. In recent years, as I’d realized the privilege of having a chamber to myself, I’d asked to have the dormer room, especially because the climb up the ladder was becoming more difficult for Aunt Elspeth. But my aunts had insisted I remain in the spacious room that contained the cottage’s only bed, and they continued to slumber on pallets in the drafty loft above.
Now, with Kresten so gravely wounded, I was more than willing to give up my chamber. As his companion and Aunt Idony lowered him to the bed, they placed him there carefully on his stomach. Only then did I see the wound in the back of his thigh, the mangled flesh with the boar’s tusk embedded deeply.
I gasped and had to grasp the door frame to keep from collapsing.
Aunt Idony’s gaze darted to me, teeming with concern. “Chester?”
At her shout, instantly Chester was at my side, bracing me up.
I pressed a hand over my mouth, afraid I would be sick.
“Get her out of here!” Aunt Idony called, even as she stripped Kresten’s breeches.
I clutched at the door, unwilling to leave just yet. Kresten had to live.
Chester gently peeled me away. “Come on with you, lass.”
A part of me wanted to protest. But Aunt Idony would work better at her doctoring if she didn’t have to worry about me every time she turned around. So I allowed Chester to lead me to the table, where he pulled out the bench and helped me to sit. He motioned urgently at Aunt Elspeth, and she bustled over with another mug of mead, her face wreathed with worry.
“I am fine.” I took the cup from her. “Please have no care for my well-being. Pour your attention upon Kresten. I beg of you.”
I didn’t want him to die. I was suddenly desperate to save him, desperate to have the chance to talk with him again, and even desperate for another opportunity to dance.
Chapter
8
Aurora
I sat at the table and buried my head in my hands, too shaken to be of much aid to Aunt Elspeth as she scurried back and forth from the hearth to the bedchamber with the water, linens, and herbal remedies Aunt Idony requested of her.
Chester stood stiffly outside the chamber door, whittling a stick with his knife. He’d gone out several times to scout the premises and ensure no one else was lurking in the woodland around the cottage. From his periodic checking out the window into the darkness, he seemed to expect more intruders at any moment.
I understood his apprehension. If Kresten had told one friend about the passageway through the ravine, then he might have mentioned it to others. Perhaps it would be only a matter of time before word spread and Queen Margery’s spies came to investigate.
I’d compromised my safety, and I regretted it. But I didn’t regret meeting Kresten. In fact, the longer Aunt Idony worked on him, the more fervently I prayed for God to spare his life and limb. I blanched whenever I pictured the tusk protruding from his leg, and I marveled that Kresten had maintained the wherewithal to walk to our cottage in such a condition. It proved an inner fortitude and depth I’d glimpsed during our days together.
When Aunt Idony exited the bedchamber, I sat up, unable to breathe. She held a bloody towel and was wiping more blood from her hands.
Aunt Elspeth had long since finished cleaning up our meal and returned to her loom. Now the soft clicking of the pedals ceased, and her hands grew idle. “How is the young man?” she whispered loudly—so loudly she may as well have used a normal tone. “Will he live?”
“Yes, thank our Father in heaven.”
“And his leg?” Aunt Elspeth continued in her overly loud whisper. “Will he be able to keep it?”
“I believe so. But only time will tell.”
At the good news, the tension in my body eased. Hot tears pricked the backs of my eyes, and I lowered my head so no one would see my display of emotion.
“Jorg will stay with him,” Aunt Idony said, as if answering an unasked question she’d sensed from Chester.
Chester heaved a sigh, likely one he’d been holding since the first knock on the door.
Aunt Idony finished wiping her hands. “They mean us no harm, Chester.”
I was relieved by her declaration, but before I could say so, Chester shook his head. “You cannot know that entirely.”
“Jorg is a kind young man who cares very much for his friend.”
Jorg? Kresten hadn’t talked about any companions. But it should come as no surprise that he had friends, since he was so likeable.
“We cannot trust them,” Chester insisted. “We can trust no one. That’s what my father always taught me.”