In Debt To The Enemy Lord. Nicole Locke
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Even from this distance, he saw her incredulity, then recognition, then a look so full of venom, he knew it mirrored his own.
‘Yes, me.’ Teague’s satisfaction was so complete, he felt like a fox sinking fangs deep into prey. ‘And you will come down to pay your due.’
‘My due?’ she spat, her body tight with ferocity. ‘My due!’ she repeated, as the branch she stood on protested with sickening snaps.
She spun towards the trunk. Too late.
‘Catch me!’ she demanded as the branch cracked. Surging out from the broken tumbling limb, she swung her arms wildly, but it was not enough.
Her arm, her body, her head glanced against unforgiving branches before her landing in his arms forced the breath from his lungs. Then he couldn’t breathe at all when he lowered her seemingly lifeless form to the ground.
She breathed, but blood coursed from her left temple. He laid her down, tore a strip off his outer tunic and wrapped the fabric around her head. Avoiding the deep gashes on her arms and legs, he felt for broken bones. She was intact, but for her head, and she desperately needed a healer.
She was his enemy, but she was alone. Her golden hair was matting with blood. With her paling complexion, she looked ready for the grave. If he left her here she would die.
Cradling her head within the crook of his arm, he lifted her to his chest and whistled for his horse. It would take precious time to reach Gwalchdu on foot, but he could not risk jarring her head.
This wasn’t how he felled his enemies. His enemies died by his own hand, not by some tree.
* * *
‘What has happened?’
Teague veered to his right. With several miles to go before he reached Gwalchdu, he hadn’t expected to see anyone. It took a moment to realise his brother’s presence did not represent a threat.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ Teague demanded.
Rhain dismounted. ‘The way you ordered me away, I would not have guessed my presence was so desired. I could have told you how wasteful it was to separate for our search. If I didn’t know better, I would think you thought little of my sword skills.’
‘I have no time to mend your hurt feelings. She is wounded.’
‘Let me help you mount and then I’ll go ahead to notify Sister Ffion.’
‘She’s not dead!’
Rhain stretched out his arms. ‘I can see that, dear brother. Ffion may have the necessary herbs to help heal her.’
Teague placed the woman in Rhain’s arms, before mounting his own horse and gathering her close to him again. Edward’s wars trained them well in handling the injured. But this was no soldier’s body, heavy with armour. This was a woman: one so slight it was like holding nothing at all.
‘Ffion will not be pleased that you bring someone home at this time,’ Rhain said.
Ffion would not be pleased when she knew whom he brought home. ‘When has our aunt ever been pleased? It appears her God was not listening when He deemed me this woman’s only protection.’
‘You could always leave her with one of the villagers.’
‘No!’ Teague said, surprised at his reaction. He did not want to leave her in the care of someone else. ‘We waste time. Ready my room.’
Teague didn’t wait to see his brother go. His attention was pulled to the woman in his arms. Limp, she moulded against him and he could feel each shallow breath filling her body. His white tunic wrapped around her head was soaked bright red with blood, her hair was tangled with leaves and bark and her face was almost translucent. He had the horse but even so, the journey to his home would be slow.
He only hoped he wouldn’t be too late.
‘Who is she?’ Rhain spoke in an undertone, more for privacy than for courtesy.
Teague didn’t look away from the woman lying on his bed. ‘I don’t know,’ he answered. ‘But I have my suspicions.’ The servants had worked quickly and now a warm fire blazed in the grate, hot water steamed in buckets, and Ffion was mixing healing herbs.
‘And you brought her here to Gwalchdu, to your room?’
‘Yes.’ Teague crossed his arms. He watched Greta, one of his most trusted servants, bathe the head wound. The woman’s eyes fluttered, but they did not open. She could die despite the care given.
‘Yes?’ Rhain repeated. ‘“Yes” is a very interesting word, dear brother. Very interesting indeed.’ He turned to leave the room. ‘I’ll be in the Hall, eating.’
Teague watched Rhain close the door behind him. He knew he should go. He would need to explain what had occurred in the forest.
There was no reason for him to stay. No need for him to watch Greta gently pat around the wound to dry it. He needed to bathe before eating, as he was still covered in sweat and blood. Her blood.
She looked so different now to how he’d seen her in the forest. There she had moved, without grace, but with an unexpected strength. Now, but for the steady rising of her chest, he’d think her dead.
Her head wound needed stitching. He watched as Greta plaited the woman’s hair to keep it out of the way. It was a menial task, one he had never seen before, but simple enough. Yet he stood transfixed as Greta’s thick fingers wound to the very end and secured the plait.
He remembered how the long golden strands shimmered when the sunlight touched it. Bound, her hair lay as limp as she did.
He quickly dismissed the feeling of loss and left his room.
* * *
After his bath, Teague entered the Great Hall. The evening meal was over and his footsteps rang in the vast emptiness of the space. Rhain sat on a large high-backed chair before a low fire crackling in the smallest hearth.
‘What happened in the forest?’ Rhain asked.
Teague poured the wine left on the table and drunk deeply before grimacing.
Rhain chuckled. ‘The wine has been watered. You may not be so observant, but you know how Ffion is when it comes to the wine.’
‘Remind me to have a word with my steward about keeping a closer eye on my personal supplies.’ Sitting on the other great chair, Teague explained what he had seen and heard from the woman in the forest.
‘It doesn’t make sense. Why would she be in the forest by herself? Especially so deep and so close to Gwalchdu,’ Rhain said, after Teague recounted all the facts.
‘She