Strangclyf Secret (31 page)

“
No need to distress
yourself, Lady Strangclyf,” William assured her with a smile. “We
take no offense and are proud to consider you family
too.”

Bernon made the
introductions. Aurick charmed William and Matilda with his brazen
wit. Small talk swirled about them.

~ * ~

Despite the festive
atmosphere, Barwolf felt an evil presence hovering among the crowd.
First unease, then pure trepidation seized her. She knew in her
heart Bernon wasn’t safe. She clutched her pearl-hilted dagger and
looked around the hall at the soldiers and people, trying to
discern the source of the threat.

The voices around her
seemed to muffle and magnify at the same time. Her sense of doom
swelled, and she didn’t realize her feet moved with her visual
quest until she was ten feet away behind Bernon. A movement in the
gallery at Bernon’s back caught her eye.

She sent her blade soaring
just as one flew from the balcony. Without a moment’s hesitation,
she launched herself at Bernon’s back, wrapping her arms around him
and screaming, “Nay!”

Just after her weight hit
him, Bernon went rigid.

“
Do not move, milord!”
Aurick shouted in a voice graveled with emotion. “She is bound to
you. Let me lift her.”

Barwolf held her eyes shut
tight. A lone tear streaked down her cheek. Aurick grabbed hold of
her waist and tried lifting her. “Come, little lamb. You need to
let go.”

Her eyes slowly opened,
but she held fast. “Is Bernon all right?”

“
He is fine. ‘Tis you who
took the blade. Now let go, so we can tend you.”

“
Promise me you will be his
backward eyes, Aurick,” she pleaded.

“
Aye, little lamb,” Aurick
said, blinking against the unusual moisture marring his vision.
“’Tis a promise.”

Barwolf forced herself to
relax her grip and Aurick lifted her.

~ * ~

The moment Bernon felt her
weight and the tip of the dagger leave his back, he turned, took
her into his arms, and strode across the hall. She moaned and
opened her eyes.

“
Why in perdition did you
not catch the damn thing like you did for the king?” he gruffly
asked, fighting the need to crush her against him, so he could feel
her heart beat next to his own.

“
Could not take the risk of
missing,” she said, raising eyes clouded with pain to his. “I do
not want to live without you anymore.”

Her declaration tugged at
his heart. Almighty God, he didn’t want to live without her either.
Bernon lifted her higher and kissed her brow. “Just be
brave,
ma petite
.
We will have the blade out as soon as we reach our
chamber.”

She leaned her head upon
his shoulder and groaned. “My beautiful gown is ruined now, isn’t
it?”

“
You are not to worry over
such a thing.” How in perdition could she worry about a damn gown?
Did she not realize she could die?

“
But my other fine gown
from the material you gave me is gone too. You will think I am
careless now, and, truly, I’m not.” She sniffed back a
tear.

“
I will not think you
careless.”

“
I also lost the dagger you
gave me, and ‘twas such a fine blade,” she lamented.

“
How did you lose
it?”

“
I threw it at the person
in the gallery who threw the blade at you.”

“
I will get you another if
the dagger is not recovered.” Bernon entered their chamber and sat
Barwolf on the side of the bed. Grabbing the bed linen with his
left hand, he pulled the dagger from her back with his right, and
then applied pressure over the entrance and exit wounds by spanning
his hand with the sheet over her shoulder.

A short whimper escaped
her and she blanched as silent tears spilled from her eyes. Bernon
watched the color leave her cheeks and felt his own drain away. “I
know that hurt,” he said in a calm voice. “But ‘twould have been
worse from tension had I warned you. Take a few deep
breaths.”

She kept her lips tightly
compressed and nodded, drawing in air through her nose.

Ardith entered, carrying a
tray with fresh water, wine, and linen for bandages. Aurick
followed, toting Ardith’s medicinal case. “Would that be the blade
that pierced her?” Aurick asked in a dubious tone then glanced at
Barwolf’s strained face.

“
Aye,” Bernon said, fury
seething through his tone. “When I discover the owner, this same
blade will pierce his black heart.”

“’
Twould be best if you
would use it on the one who threw it rather than the owner,
milord,” Aurick suggested, his worried frown on Barwolf.

Bernon turned a sharp gaze
on the legion commander. “What in perdition does that
mean?”

“’
Tis your wife’s dagger. I
carved the handle for her myself.” Aurick balled his fists and his
nostrils flared. “Someone wants you dead and the blame on
her.”

Barwolf clutched Bernon’s
tunic and raised anxious eyes. “I didn’t do it, Bernon. I promise.
I lost my dagger in Londontown, remember?”

He tenderly caressed her
cheek with a knuckle. “Shh
.
Calm down,
cheri
. I know ‘twas not
you.”

“
How is she?” Balen called
from the doorway.

“
I am fine, Balen. Nothing
important got hit,” she said. “I am sorry about the purgative, and
I—”

“
You got hit and you are
important, damn it!” Bernon clamped his mouth shut and inhaled
deeply. God’s wounds, what was he doing? His anger could only upset
her more at the moment, but damnation he would instruct her about
her value as soon as she recovered. He looked toward his brother.
“Is there any sign of who did this?”

“
Nay. We recovered her
dagger,” Balen replied in a hard voice. “’Twas covered with blood,
so she hit her mark. Medwyn has organized some men, and they are
scouring the keep now, looking for someone with a fresh
wound.”

“
Would you want me to be
seeing to her injury now, milord?” Ardith asked in a tight
voice.

Bernon noticed tears in
the housekeeper’s eyes and knew she worried over his wife as a
mother would. He eased his grip on Barwolf’s shoulder and peeked
under the sheet. “Aye, Ardith,” he said, struggling for a steady
tone. “The bleeding slows. Aurick, wait outside the chamber with
Balen. I will speak to both of you in a few moments.”

Aurick nodded and turned
toward the door.

“
Aurick, do not forget your
promise,” Barwolf called, desperation lacing her plea.

The old warrior faced her
and nodded once. “I’ll remember, little lamb. You just remember
that you are valuable, rare, and precious.”

The door closed behind
Aurick, and Bernon moved to the foot of the bed. He crossed his
arms over his chest as Ardith cut away his wife’s gown from her
shoulder, exposing the injuries.

Barwolf clasped her hands
in her lap and looked at her wound. “I think we can skip this part,
Ardith. My shoulder does not feel too bad.”

“
Now, milady. You know
better,” Ardith replied, her voice calmer after seeing the
damage.

Ardith turned away and
Barwolf blanched. “I am sure ‘twill heal well if I just soak my
shoulder in the bath.”

“’
Twill heal better if I
clean the wounds and stitch them shut.” Ardith faced her, holding a
towel and the flagon.

“
But I am sure you have
other more important matters to tend to with all our guests,”
Barwolf implored in a high-pitched utterance.

Bernon rolled his
eyes
. “Ma petite?”

“
Aye, Bernon.” She raised
the most dread-filled countance he had ever seen in his
life.

“
You are not going to talk
her out of this,” he ordered in a firm yet gentle tone.

“
I had to try.” Barwolf
raked her fingers through her hair. “Bernon, would you do me a
favor, do you suppose, please?”

“
I might if you tell me
what the favor is and I do not think ‘twould harm you.”

Barwolf released a
shuddering sigh and bowed her head. “Would you sit on my right
side, so I can lean against you? And mayhap help me hold my left
arm still? I am afraid I may jerk away from the needle and fall off
the bed, and ‘twill be easier for Ardith to get to both wounds if I
am sitting up.”

Bernon sat beside her and
slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her against his side. He
placed his other hand over her left elbow, holding her arm in
place. Barwolf slid her right arm around Bernon’s back and pressed
her left hand against his abdomen. Then she buried her face in his
shoulder.

Ardith set about her task,
cleaning the wounds and carefully stitching the flesh closed.
Bernon heard one muffled whimper the first time the needle pierced
Barwolf’s flesh. She didn’t make another sound after that, though
her tears soaked his tunic. Her only other concessions to the pain
were her left hand fisting in the material of his tunic and a fine
trembling of her entire body.

Ardith cut the last thread
then coated both wounds with a salve. “There now, milady. The worst
is over. Let’s get your gown off, so we can get you bandaged
proper.”

Barwolf pushed away from
Bernon then clutched at him . After a moment she sat upright,
keeping her head bowed and clenching her hands into fists. “Thank
you, Bernon.”

Bernon brushed his lips
over her brow and whispered, “I’m not moving until Ardith finishes
and you are ready to lie down.”

Barwolf sniffed and
nodded. He tipped up her chin and looked at her tear-ravaged face.
“You are brave. Most women would have screamed and
fainted.”

She gazed at him then
tears pooled in her eyes and she bowed her head again. Bernon
noticed the fresh blood on the sleeve of her gown on the arm that
she had wrapped around his back at the same moment she
did.

“
You are bleeding!” She
tried looking behind him, but he held her fast. “Let me see,
Bernon. You have to be all right. I need you.”

“’
Tis no more than a minor
flesh wound,” he assured her. “You are not to worry.”

“
But it could fester and
you could take a fever and die.” Her eyes became panicked. “Then I
wouldn’t have you and—”

“
Shh.” He placed a finger
over her lips then caressed her jaw. “Do not fret. I will let
Ardith tend it when she finishes with you if it will make you feel
better.”

She swallowed and sniffed.
“I will worry less if you do.”

“
Then I will,” he
promised.

Ardith smiled broadly.
“Now that you have settled that, let’s get that gown off, milady.
Have you any night rails up here yet?”

“
She can wear one of my
under tunics,” Bernon said, not wanting Barwolf to feel embarrassed
over her lack. “They are in the chest at the foot of the
bed.”

Ardith lowered Barwolf’s
gown to her waist, quickly dressed her wounds, and wrapped a
bandage over her shoulder and around her chest several times then
anchored the end. She retrieved an under tunic from Bernon’s chest
and helped her mistress don the garment.

Bernon lifted Barwolf and
lay her upon the bed. He pulled her kirtle and chemise down her
body and tossed them on the floor. Then he drew the covers over her
and kissed her brow. “You will stay here and rest your shoulder
until it is healed.”

“
But I have not had dinner
yet.” Her stomach growled, reinforcing her complaint.

Bernon frowned. “Ardith
can bring you a tray.”

“
But you promised you would
let her tend your back first,” she reminded him, panic lifting her
pitch.

He sighed and turned to
Ardith. “Where do you want me?”

“
How about that chair by
the table, milord,” Ardith said, gesturing toward the hearth. “You
should be easy enough to reach there.”

Bernon removed his tunic
and looked at the golden hair embroidered into the fighting bear on
the chest. His little wife had worked so hard to please him and he
truly liked the gift. “Can you save this garment,
ma petite?
‘Tis but a
small hole in the back.”

“
I can make a new back from
my shift skirt,” she said in a small pleased voice.

“
If you will give it to me,
milord, I will drape it over one of the other chairs, so ‘twill
suffer no further damage until milady is able to make the repair,”
Ardith offered.

Bernon handed over the
garment then removed his under tunic. He sat on the chair and
Ardith inspected the wound. “’Tis deeper than you thought, milord.
‘Twill take about three stitches.”

“
Wait, Ardith,” Barwolf
said then struggled up and slid her feet to the floor.

“
I thought I told you stay
in bed,” Bernon chided.

“
I’ll not be up long and
this is too important,” she replied as she padded toward him. She
sat upon his left thigh, wrapped her arms around his waist, and
leaned her cheek against his chest. “You can start now,
Ardith.”