The Falls of Erith (30 page)

Gray’s
amber eyes were fixed on the big black knight.  “What does that mean?”

“It
means that your husband, as the youngest son, is the greatest of the line.”

She
looked at Braxton, a glimmer in her eyes. “I would agree with that.”

Braxton
smiled modestly. “You must agree, as my wife. But know that my other brothers
are quite formidable. I am not sure that Niclas’s assessment is fair.”

“You
are too humble, my lord,” Niclas broke into their conversation. “I saw you in
the joust yesterday. Your talent is astounding.”

Braxton
didn’t reply; he was not about to thank a lesser knight for a compliment,
especially in light of the evening’s events. Better the man realize that he was
indeed superior so he would not try anything so foolish again.

To
their left, Geoff suddenly let out a groan when he shifted on his pallet and
inadvertently caused himself some agony.  Conversation and fright forgotten,
Gray immediately went to the knight, remembering his rough handling during the
course of the earlier crisis.  She knelt beside him, full of concern, to check
the bandages on his neck.

“Geoff,”
she murmured. “I am so sorry I forgot about you. How brave you were to try and
protect me.”

Geoff
was deathly pale; it was evident he was struggling, a miracle he had stayed
silent this long. “As any man would have done, my lady,” he said faintly. “But
I fear I may have re-injured something. My left arm is numb.”

Gray
knew that could not be a good sign.  She felt horribly guilty that her first
thoughts had not been of him when Niclas had released her, for she had clearly
seen Geoff’s valiant attempt to aid her. She checked wound; the stitches had
held, but there was some additional bleeding with his movement.  Nothing looked
terribly out of order.  As Braxton, and even Niclas, stood in various positions
behind her, she re-secured the bandages and looked up at her husband.

“He
cannot be moved for quite some time,” she said firmly. “Tonight’s events may
have caused more damage to him. I will not risk him in a wagon, on an open
road, even to take him to safety.  He must stay still and rest.”

Braxton’s
face was grim. “How long?”

“A
few days, at least.”

He
didn’t hesitate. “As you say. What more do you need in order to help him?”

She
sighed, looking back at the ashen young knight.  After a moment, she rose to
her feet and faced Braxton so that Geoff could not overhear her.

“I
fear his condition is beyond my skills,” she said softly. “I would feel more
comfortable if a reputable surgeon examined him.  He very well may have
re-injured himself attempting to defend me.”

Niclas
heard her. “I will ride to Grange-over-Sands,” he said, already moving for the
door. “It is a large town. Surely there will be a surgeon of reputation to
examine him. I will bring him back as soon as I am able.”

Both
Braxton and Gray looked at him, varied degrees of surprise in their
expressions.

“This
is not your trouble,” Braxton told him. “I believe you were going to leave,
anyway.”

Gray
put her hand on Braxton in preparation for defending Niclas’s actions, but the
knight beat her to it.

“This
entire folly with d’Uberville is my fault,” he said. “As an honorable man, I
would right my wrong. I know that you do not believe me to be the honorable
type, my lord, but I would consider it a privilege to prove you wrong.”

Under
normal circumstances, Braxton would have rejected the request. But Niclas was
trying to make amends and Gray’s hand on his arm told him that he should allow
such an attempt.  If the man left and never returned, it was of little
consequence other than Geoff would have to wait longer to be examined by a
surgeon.  But if the man did as he said he would, then it was a statement of
his word.  It would aid in restitution for his earlier behavior. As Braxton was
preparing to reply, the tent flap moved and Dallas entered the tent.

The
knight was in full battle armor, broadsword in hand and smaller weapons slung
and secured about his body.  His visor was up, his pale blue eyes scrutinizing
the tent and its occupants.  At the sight of de Aughton, he was inclined to
raise his sword and go on the offensive, but he could see that no one in the
tent seemed particularly upset.  Puzzled, he nonetheless remained in a
defensive posture.

“Is
everything well, my lord?” he asked in an authoritative voice that Gray had
never heard from him before. “I was told there were sounds of trouble here.”

Braxton’s
eyes were on Niclas. “No trouble,” he said. “De Aughton was just leaving.”

Dallas
moved away from the tent flap, his armored body between Geoff, Gray and
Braxton.  He watched de Aughton with the expression of one sighting prey. “Then
leave, de Aughton,” he said to the big black knight.

Niclas
put up his hands to show he was no threat. “I shall, as soon as my horse and
possessions are returned to me,” he said, glancing at Braxton. “I can hardly
walk to Grange-on-Sands, my lord.”

Braxton
nodded at Dallas, who had focused on him for an affirmation. “Give him back his
property,” he said. “He is riding for a surgeon for Geoff.”

Dallas
instantly dropped his sword and quit the tent. They could hear him shouting
orders outside, rousing the men and having Niclas’s property brought forth.
Listening to the shouts outside, Niclas’s gaze lingered on Braxton a moment. 
It seemed that he wanted to say something more but ultimately held his tongue.

“I
shall take my leave, my lord,” he dipped his head. Then his gaze moved to Gray.
“My lady, I shall return as soon as I can.”

With
that, the big black knight left the tent.  Braxton and Gray stood there a
moment as if still trying to absorb the events of the morning.  After a small
eternity of digesting their shock, they finally turned to each other.
Blue-green fixed on amber and Braxton stroked his wife’s cheek. She smiled
weakly in return.

“Are
you really all right?” he asked softly.

She
nodded, winding her arms around him just to draw strength from his embrace. “I
am fine, truly,” she sighed as his arms tightened around her. “But it was
rather frightening.”

“No
doubt,” he murmured. “Will you be all right if I leave you a moment?”

“Of
course. I am not a weakling.”

He
laughed softly. “God’s Bones, you are most certainly not. I must speak with
Dallas a moment.”

Dallas
was standing outside, several feet away, with Brooke standing beside him. They
were both watching something in the distance. As Braxton marched up on them, he
noticed that they were watching Graehm issue de Aughton his possessions and
horse.  Brooke, her fair young face anxious, fixed on Braxton.

“Is
my mother all right?” she demanded. “What happened?”

Braxton
held up a hand. “She is well enough.”

“But
what happened?”

“Sir
Niclas paid us a visit, Lady Aston. Now he is riding for a surgeon for Sir
Geoff”

Brooke’s
pretty face darkened with confusion, with concern. “But… but a soldier told us
he heard suspicious sounds coming from your tent and then Dallas dressed in his
armor and ran over there with his sword and… are you sure my mother is all
right?”

“Go
and see for yourself.”

She
did, without hesitation.  As she bolted into the distant tent that contained
her mother, Braxton turned to Dallas.

“What
took you so long to come?” he asked quietly. “Gray was in peril for several
moments until I diffused the situation. Where were you?”

Dallas
shook his head. “In my tent, with Brooke.  We are far enough away that I did
not hear anything until a soldier came to me and said he had heard strange
sounds coming from your tent.  I wasn’t sure the strange sounds he heard were
indicative of trouble, if you understand my meaning, so I took my time to
investigate. But when I approached your tent and heard a strange voice, I
suspected the worst and made haste to retrieve my armor and weapon.”

Braxton
nodded, satisfied. “As I would have more than likely followed the same path of
logic.”

“Your
wife is uninjured?”

“Just
frightened. And speaking of wives, have you carried out your obligation yet?”

Dallas
wriggled his eyebrows. “I was preparing to broach the subject when I was
interrupted by the soldier.”

“Then
resume your plans. I will keep her mother away from your tent for the time
being.”

Dallas
sighed heavily.  “Nothing like the screams of a child to incite the mother.”

“Exactly.”

They
broke from their stance and walked back to the larger tent. As they were
preparing to enter, Norman and Edgar exited, moving quickly out of the way. 
Braxton grabbed Norman by the arm, forcing the lad to stop so he could take a
good look at his face.  Dallas peered at the swollen nose over Braxton’s
shoulder.

“You
took a good hit,” Braxton said to the young man. “Is it broken?”

Norman’s
eyes were already becoming dark-ringed as his nose swelled.  “Lady de Nerra
already looked at it and says she does not believe so.”

Dallas
lifted his eyebrows, looking at Braxton. “Young Norman went on the offensive
against de Aughton?”

“Indeed.”

“Most
impressive.”

Dallas
slapped the boy lightly on the head and continued past him, into the tent. 
Braxton lingered with the boy a moment longer, inspecting his face as if
suddenly seeing something more mature in the youth.  The lad was sixteen or
seventeen years, after all. He was becoming a man.  He let go of his arm with a
satisfied nod.

“Most
impressive indeed,” he said. “Norman, you and I will speak later on your
training. Perhaps it is time you moved past the duties of a squire. Perhaps it
is time for you to learn to serve as a warrior.”

Norman
watched Braxton disappear into the tent. There was a somewhat dazed expression
on his face. A few feet away, Edgar was struggling to light a cooking fire,
scowling at his brother.  He thought he had been rather brave, too, although he
hadn’t gotten bloodied for his efforts. 

“Maybe
next time I’ll get an arm cut off,” Edgar sniffed. “Then Sir Braxton will
appreciate my valor, too.”

Norman
pursed his lips at his brother; leave it to Edgar to ruin a proud moment.
“Don’t be such an idiot,” he said.

Edgar
just made a face at him as he continued to try and light the stubborn fire. 
Norman watched for a minute or so before shoving his brother aside, adjusting
the kindling, and lighting the blaze on the first try. Edgar’s spirits sank
lower.

“Show
off!” he yelled.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

Both
Gray and Brooke were bent over Geoff when their husbands arrived. Geoff was
starting to cough up blood, never a good sign, and Gray was struggling to
figure out where the bleeding was coming from.   Braxton and Dallas watched
with mounting concern as Geoff continued to spit up bright red blood.  Braxton
finally knelt beside his wife, his gaze fixed on his knight.

“De
Aughton should be back before noon, Geoff,” he said quietly. “Lady de Nerra
will do all she can until then. You must hold on.”

Geoff
was conscious and miserable.  He nodded his head, his eyes closed. “I would not
want to despoil her efforts, my lord.”

Gray
passed a sidelong glance at Braxton, letting him know that she was very
concerned for the young knight.  Brooke was mostly hovering aimlessly, not
knowing what to do but wanting to help her mother just the same.  When Geoff
coughed up more blood and splattered it on her arm, she nearly had heart
failure.  Having never been exposed to battle or blood on a serious level, she
was unused to the reality of gore.

But
she made a brave attempt to wipe it off of Geoff’s mouth, mostly smearing red
streaks down his chin.  Then she wiped furiously at the blood on her arm,
feeling nauseous at the sight.  Above her concern for the knight, Gray noticed
her daughter’s pale pallor.

“Dallas,”
she said softly. “Would you mind taking Brooke to finish packing? Braxton would
like to be on the road to Erith before noon and I am sure my daughter has yet
to make preparation.”

It
was just an excuse to remove Brooke from the tent but Dallas took it.  He was
deeply concerned for his friend’s health but reckoned there was nothing he
could do about it. Moreover, he still had a directive from Braxton that he had
yet to fulfill.  If ever there was a time to complete his objective and make Brooke
his wife in every sense of the word, the time was now while everyone was
distracted.  He grasped his young wife by the arm and gently escorted her from
the tent.

The
day was beginning to warm outside.  The grass was cool, the trees green, and
nary a cloud in the sky now that the morning mist had burned away.  Dallas
silently led Brooke over to their tent, holding back the flap as she went
inside.  He followed her and secured the ties that held closed the flap.