There Your Heart Will Be Also (9 page)

****

Sarra was in the library poring over copious notes when she heard the
urgent
voice
of the young stable lad, James
.
“Mistress, mistress, come quick.
There has been an accident!”

Sarra grabbed up her skirts and flew to the door.
Sarra's mind raced.
Was it Charism? Sir Henry? Gavin?
Cook?
What could have possibly sent James
in with such
a
message?

Sarra ran out into the great hall and stopped short.
Sir Gavin swayed in the middle of the room.
His face
held
a pale gray color.

The silence was thick
and
the dripping of blood could be heard as it struck the cold, stone floor.
Drip, drip, drip
…

Sarra walked toward the small crowd
which
was gathering around the wounded knight.
I
n a
whisper, “Where is Charism?”

James leaned
in,
“
G
one to retrieve her herb box and her dagger, my lady.”
Adding in a
low tone
, “She believes it would be better to cauterize the wound.
T
hey brought Gavin here to wait on her.”

“Cauterize?”
Sarra repeated to
no
one but herself.
T
he wound must be dire to make Charism think this measure was necessary.

As of now,
Sarra's
main concern
was
that
the incident was
an accident and Sir Gavin's injuries were the worst of the lot.

“My lady, he didn't mean it,” Gavin blurted as Sarra approached.

Raising an eyebrow, Sarra didn't ask him to explain.
Yet.

Two knights flanked Gavin in case he fell and needed to be carried.
Directing them with a flick of her wrist, she had them assist Gavin in taking a seat in front of the great fireplace in the middle of the room.

“Now let's get a look at you, shall we?”
Sarra said with more courage than she felt.

Gavin's armor
had been removed.
The blood
covering his body
appeared
to be
flowing
from a gash about five inches long in the upper part of his arm.
The depth of
the wound
was disturbing.
How had it gone so deep through his armor?

“I shouldn't have done it, my lady.”

“Gavin, please do stop babbling until I figure out a way to help Charism with this.”

“Oh, my lady.
He is a good friend and a decent person.
Don't be upset with him.”

Placing her hands on her hips,
Sarra
stared at Gavin in the most authoritative manner she could muster and ordered, “Explain yourself.”

Trembling from either blood loss or fear, Gavin
tried to
respond
but was interrupted by a fellow knight.
“Well, my lady, the Scot was in the lists training with us.
And we asked why he doesn't wear armor when he fights.
And the Scot said it was just as easy to fight without it.
So
Gavin
and I decided to take off our mail and try to train in breeks and a tunic.
”

Here Gavin
injected
,
pain lacing his tone,
“
Patrick wanted to try a kilt but I refused to be
so
exposed, begging your pardon mistress.”

Sarra almost groaned aloud.
True to form Gavin was taking the most circuitous route possible to reach the important details. “Of course, continue please.”

Patrick
, placed a
reassuring
hand on his
friend
's shoulder, and continued,
“Well
he, the Scot
I mean
,
came back over to us to see if we wanted to train
and
we
agreed.
He was sparring with
us both
and I was about to block
Gavin's
blow when my foot slipped.
I
didn't mean
—
”

“Looks like
Gavin
been skewered rather than cut,” Sarra muttered.
So
“the Scot”,
Cedric
MacNeil
,
was behind this fiasco.
Why had
she
not
run him
out of Greenbriar
?

Patrick
's
explanation had come to a stuttering halt as
Charism
entered the hall burdened down with her herb box.

Sarra rushed
over to Charism's bent form
.
“
A
re you
certain
cauterizing is necessary?”

“Aye, I am.” Charism gave a blowing sigh.

“What can I do?”

“Y
e
need to get a couple of strong men so they can hold Gavin down when the time comes.”

“
Two knights are
already in the hall.
I will tell
the
m
t
he
y
can
retrieve
some of the strong drink from the library and start
plying
it to Gavin.”

“
A
good idea; the poor lad is going to need it.”

“Now, where is
the
Scot
?”
Sarra mumbled to herself.

Charism
focused
on
Sarra
and her muttering
, but didn't comment.

A
nger
rose
in
Sarra
as
never before.
Her knight could lose his arm because of
this strange Scot
and his carelessness
.
Where was he?
If he was dallying in the
lists
, she would have his head.
Imagine not even having
the decency to come and check on the lad.

Sarra stalked with an angry gait toward
Cedric's
last known location
.
So unfocused was her direction, she ran into a wall of solid muscle.
As she pushed her hair from her eyes and tilted her head
back
, the first glimpse of the
wall's face
came into focus
.

“Excuse me, I was looking for Cedric
Mac
...” she said, choking on the last word.

“Well ye found me, maid Sarra.”

She stomped one
well-
heeled shoe
on
Cedric's toe.
He made only the slightest hint he
'
d received any discomfort
, only serving to anger her further
.

“
Would you
please
refrain from calling me
maid
?
”

“Aye
.
But
ye
will notice I also
call
ed
ye Sarra.”

“Don't try to distract me with your titillating Scottish burr
.
I know very well what you called me.”

“Trying to distract ye, am I?
What am I distracting ye from?”

Sighing
Sarra
closed her eyes and breathed deeply, counting to ten.
How was she supposed to concentrate when all she could think about was how the sweat was glistening on his bare chest or how his hair had come loose
to lay
in a caress on his shoulders?
Perhaps it
was
time to consider marriage.

Sarra opened her eyes and studied Cedric.
He didn't seem entirely uncomfortable with the situation and seemed to be doing some studying of his own.
What was he thinking?
Hopefully, it was how the dress she wore enhanced her natural colors, while exciting his imagination.

Where had those thoughts come from?
This was no time to be thinking such
things
, especially about such a beast
as Cedric
!

Sarra
reined
in
the
embarrassing thoughts before they ran away from her.
How could he sit and ogle her thus?

Irritation fueled a belligerent response.
“Do you like what you see?”

Cedric
smirked
, a
ll the proof
n
eeded that indeed he did.

Rolling her eyes in exasperation
,
Sarra
said,
“This is getting us nowhere.”
A
small
crowd gather
ed
behind them
.
G
rabb
ing
Cedric by the hand
,
she
attempted
to pull him to a more private place, but he wouldn't budge.

Sarra
let go of his hand and gave him a direct stare
.
“Would you come with me to a more
private
location?”

Cedric
nodded.
Walking away, he grabbed his tunic off a post and pulled it over his head, sheathed his sword, and
angled
back to face her.
Then with a giant smile and an out stretched hand, “Lead the way.”

Sarra
spun on her heel
and walked toward a shaded spot in the garden.
It was the same spot they had stood in just a few nights before.
Currently it was free from villagers and onlookers.

She walked
away
without a glance over her shoulder
to see
if Cedric followed
,
because
s
he knew he would.
T
he opportunity for a private meeting
had been given
.
She was giving him the opportunity to stand beneath the trees and stare at her as he was so apt to do.
How could he resist?
S
he was the mistress after all, even if he didn't know it.

Sarra
turned
to face him
,
“What were you thinking?”

Cedric
froze in his tracks, one
eyebrow
r
aised
.
“
Pardon
?”

“Don't act like you don't know what I am talking about.
One of
the
knights
is
in the great hall about to be seared.
And what are you doing?
You are still fighting and carrying on, like you
didn't just
fillet him open like a fish!”

“
A
knight?”

“Yes,
a
knight.
And answer me when I talk to you,”
Sarra
said
.

Cedric started advancing, forcing her back to a tree.
He leaned in dangerously close, allowing her to get a whiff of his
woodsy
scent
.
“Ye will not speak to me
thusly
.”

Sarra's reply was breathless
,
from fear or his nearness
,
she wasn't sure which.
Taking a gulp
,
“I will speak to you however I wish.”

Cedric
took his thumb and
placed it against
her bottom lip
.
“What makes ye think I would let a mere
village lass
express such insolence in my presence
?
”