awakened? Aye, ’tis a good thing.” Wenda nodded. “But this confusion is not.”
“Will it go away? Surely, her memory will return?”
“Mayhap it will and mayhap it will not.” The old woman shrugged at him. “I have seen this but once before and that in a man wounded in the head during battle. He recovered his mind after a few days.”
“Surely it will be so for her?” William was frustrated by the healer’s words more than he was satisfied by them.
“I have heard stories of those who have never regained their memories.”
“Nay!”
His words and tone were a bit more vehement than he had planned so he paced away from the woman and tried to sort out his thoughts. He would not believe that this stranger would live in a state of confusion and without identity for the rest of her life. Last night had been her first time awake in weeks and this fog must be normal, a natural part of healing. But if it were that, the nagging thoughts in his head told him that an experienced healer such as Wenda would know of it.
“Royce,” Wenda said. “We must simply wait to see if she continues to heal or if this is a pause in a decline. Time will tell us something more with each day.”
“And is that what I tell Lord Orrick?”
“That is all we can tell him for now.”
William let out the breath he held and looked toward the high table where the lord he served was at his meal. Orrick was a fair man and would not begrudge a stranger a small measure of care after an attack such as she had suffered. Once she was stronger, her thoughts would clear and she would know herself. Once she was stronger, she could move to the keep and be tended by the women there. Once she was stronger, he would lose her.
Shaking his head at his own foolish thoughts, he thanked Wenda and walked forward at Orrick’s behest. Her recovery would be a slow one and be filled with pain and struggle. It would be best if she was moved as soon as possible since his many duties for Orrick took him away from the village frequently. ’Twould be easier for all if she were not in his cottage. He thought himself convinced so no one was more surprised than he when his first words to Orrick were a request to keep her where she was.
The rest of the day moved too slowly for him and he found himself wondering how she would be when he returned home. Wenda said that Avryl would continue to come each day to take care of her needs while he was at his duties. Wenda would visit often and Orrick had given his permission for things to be this way until the stranger either recovered enough to give an accounting of herself or until she succumbed.
Finally his duties were finished and he took up his weapons and walked through the village toward the stream. Following it for a few minutes, he soon stood in the doorway of his small croft. It was quiet within. Young Avryl stirred a pot on the hearth and his guest lay sleeping. He fought a smile when he noticed that her hand rested on the head of his also-sleeping dog. She had found a champion after all.
William dropped his sack next to the door, gaining the attention of the girl before the fire. Avryl was really older than a girl, nigh to ten-and-seven if he remembered correctly. He watched her graceful movements as she used the edge of her skirt to shield her hand from the heat of the pot and then poured some of the stew into a bowl on the table.
She would not meet his eyes as he thanked her for the meal, and William noticed the blush creeping up her neck and face. He remembered Avryl’s mother trying to make a match between them after his first year in Silloth in the service of Orrick. A new bachelor in the close-knit community, especially one high in the esteem of Lord Orrick, was fair game for any unmarried woman. He had done his share of dodging those who would try to tie him into matrimony.
He could afford no entanglements of that nature. Nothing that endangered his anonymity or threatened to reveal his past could be allowed. He became practiced at brushing aside the matchmaking. He waited for her to finish putting food and drink out before turning his attention to the woman lying on the pallet.
“She has been awake for some hours today,” Avryl answered the question before he could ask it.
“Does she know herself yet?” William crouched down to be nearer to the woman and inspected her for signs of worsening.
“Nay. But she spoke a few times to Wenda and to me.”
“Has she eaten?” William looked at the bowl of steaming food. It was probably too hearty for her.
“Aye, she had something not long ago. Wenda gave her a potion for the pain and said she might sleep the night through.”
William nodded at the information and stood. “My thanks for your care of her.”
“I could stay longer…?” Her voice softened with a question and he did not miss its true meaning.
“’Tis been a long day for both of us.” William pushed the door open and stood next to it. “Would you like me to walk you back to the village? The dark is growing deeper.”
Avryl gathered a few items together and put them in her sack. Slinging it over her shoulder, she shook her head. “I can go back by myself.” He could also hear her unspoken words.
Looking at this young woman who invited him to walk with her, William felt much older than his years. In another life, he would have been seeking out young women, wooing and bedding and marrying an appropriate one. Avryl would have been suitable for the wooing and bedding but not the marrying, if he’d stayed in his former life. Now, she was suitable for someone in his station.
He sighed, letting out some of his frustration. He was now the one not suitable for marriage, so he took his pleasures discreetly when he felt the need. Never with the wife of another man. And he never encouraged any of the women in the village or within the purview of Lord Orrick to expect anything more.
William would not let her work go unappreciated, so he walked to the stream with Avryl and waited for her to make her way a good distance before returning to the cottage.
Looking around his home, he noticed that Avryl had been busy during her time there, and not just in tending to the sleeping woman. His stores of oats and other food supplies kept in jars were neat and the shelf that held them was now clean of any crumbs. His floor was swept clean and a pile of clothing lay on the table neatly folded. Busy, indeed.
“She likes you.”
He turned at the words and found his guest looking at him. How long had she been awake? He moved closer to aid her in sitting up, but she shook her head slightly.
“Eat.”
“Do you need something? Water? Broth?”
“You eat.” Her focus turned to the table and the bowl of hot stew sitting there.
William nodded and sat on the bench next to the table. It placed his back to her, but he did not move it. He concentrated on the meal and finished the thick stew, chunk of bread and cup of ale in a few minutes. Then he cleaned out the wooden bowl and cup and placed them up on the shelf in the corner. Lifting the pot from the hearth, he placed it on the floor to cool. Covering it with a battered lid, he knew that there were at least two more meals left within it.
When no other tasks lay before him, he paused before facing her. Nervousness grew inside him and he
