Page 18 of A Knight To Call My Own
“That hurts, if you would but care to inquire,” Ian declared with a hiss.
“’Tis going tae be hard tae hold yer lance and balance yerself in the saddle come the next event with a wound o’ this nature.”
“I am sure I will manage, given the price I would pay if I fail. At least, I have the morrow to rest.”
Angus continued his torture of assessing the wound, much to Ian’s irritation. “How did ye come by this, and fer how long has it been bleeding the life from ye?”
“’Twas from Broderick, that sniveling distant relative of Lady Lynet’s. Apparently, the gent did not like the beating he was receiving and thought to even the odds.”
“Well…he did a right fine job and knew just where tae slice ye between the plates o’ yer armor. The wound needs tae be stitched.”
“I am sure ’tis not the first time the wretch has behaved so cowardly, and ’tis one of the reasons we did not get along whenever he came to visit Berwyck. I never could stand a cheat.”
“At least he has now been eliminated from the competition. I heard tell he was packing his gear and cursing yer name at the same time,” Angus laughed.
Ian flinched, looking down at his side, and did not care for the look of the wound. Since he had not wanted to call attention to the issue of someone getting the better of him by calling for Kenna’s aid, he had left the injury unattended throughout the day. ’Twas not the wisest choice. The edges of skin were jagged and an angry shade of red. ’Twould not surprise him in the least to see the gash becoming poisonous. “Bloody Hell! The bastard used a dirty knife.”
“Aye, that he did, and ’twill become more infected than it already is if we do not take care o’ the wound soon.” Angus wiped his bloodied hands on a cloth and turned to Connor. “Go and fetch Berwyck’s healer, else we will be planning a funeral, instead o’ a wedding.”
Angus pulled up a stool and motioned for Ian to sit. Lowering his tall frame, Ian sat, waiting for Kenna’s aid in healing his injury. He did, after all, need to fight another day.
~***~
Lynet lightly held the arm of a man whose name she could not recall to save her life. He was of the Davidson clan in the north of Scotland. At least that much she knew. He made her uncomfortable with his enormous height and massive build. ’Twas as if she were walking beside a mountain that blocked the sun from the skies. She appeared as a child next to him and could not imagine spending her life with such a man.
“You would like the Highlands, my lady, and the lochs surrounding my home.” The giant beside her spoke with the deepest timbre to his voice she had ever heard afore. Was it her imagination, or did it feel as though the ground actually shook with his speech?
“Aye, I am sure I would enjoy such a place,” Lynet replied offhandedly as they walked the camp towards the castle’s keep. She peeked at him from lowered lashes only to see a scowl of displeasure set upon his face. Although there was no mistaking the fact he was a handsome brute, she did not care for those deep set brown eyes settling on her body as though he were stripping the garments from her for all the world to see her naked. She raised her chin and spoke her mind. “Have I offended you in some way that you would look at me so?”
“You do not even remember my name, do you lassie?” he grumbled irritably.
“I am afraid not and must apologize for my lapse in memory,” she murmured.
“’Tis Calum,” he replied sourly. “You would do well to remember it, come the future, especially since you will become my bride.”
She halted their progress, for she had had enough of arrogant men telling her what to do. “We shall see,” she retorted with a shake of her head. Espying Kenna busily helping an injured knight across the way, she waved off her escort. “Please excuse me, my Laird Calum. I must needs see if I can be of use to our healer.”
Not waiting for a reply, she cared not that she left the man standing alone, most likely glaring at her retreating form. She made her way through the throng of people who were busily making their way to their own tents after a day of revelry. The days had been long, and the complaints high from those who had fallen and no longer were eligible for her hand in marriage. She was overjoyed the majority of noblemen were no longer in the running.
She came to stand next to a man who was pleading his cause to Kenna, who continued to work on her injured patient.
“I understand your plight, good sir, but I must needs finish here afore I can attend to another,” Kenna murmured, never raising her eyes to the man who sought her help.
“But the wound is deep, mistress, and me laird is in need o’ yer help!” the man said forcefully.
Kenna at last looked up with an irritated and impatient sigh and met Lynet’s gaze as she stood there in silence. “Would you be so kind, my lady, and see to the gentleman’s wounds?” Kenna asked. “I know I should not ask such of you, but as you can see, I have my hands full at the moment.”
“But of course I can help, Kenna. Just let me go fetch my medicine satchel.”
“No need, Lynet.” Kenna tossed her a bag of her own supplies. “Take these and see to this man’s laird. I will send a boy to fetch what I stand in need of.”
The man set a brisk pace, and Lynet all but ran to keep up with him. They did not go far ’til Lynet stood afore a spacious tent that had been erected on the outskirts of the main activity of camp life.
The tent flap was held open for her to enter, and she did so, allowing her eyes to become adjusted to the dim interior after being in the bright sunlight. She saw him then, sitting there on a stool waiting for her. Blue eyes met hazel from across the room whilst her breath left her when she realized exactly who was injured. She rushed to his side. All thoughts of the animosity she had been feeling towards him left her, knowing he was hurt.
“What an honor,” Ian drawled carelessly. “The lady herself comes to aid a most humble servant.”
“Hush, you fool!” Lynet ordered, almost forgetting her kinder thoughts but an instant afore. Kneeling down at his side, she called for more light so she could better examine the wound. “Why did you not stop your fighting so this could be attended to? ’Tis already festering.”
