Page 15 of Knight of Chaos
A sigh of relief left her when she espied her tent. Oswin opened the flap for her and made her sit on a stool at the table before demanding she lean forward so he could assist with the removal of her tabard and chainmail. He took off his helmet and waited. She was too tired to complain and finally did as she was told. He began tsk tsking upon viewing the various cuts and bruises on her body. He began to scowl.
“You have sustained a deep wound underneath your chainmail padding,” he mentioned before walking across the room. He began inspecting the tent for various objects. Finding water and thread, he returned. “Carefully take it off so I might access how much blood you have lost.” He placed the items on the table and awaited her compliance to his orders.
“Excuse me?” Her hands shook at the thought of undressing in front of a man who was very nearly a stranger.
“Do you wish to bleed out?” he asked with a raised brow.
“Nay.” ’Twas the only response she could give him. Any further words would betray how uncomfortable the situation had become for her.
“Then let me inspect how deep the wound is, and if needed, I shall sew up the skin.” His voice was flat as if this was a common conversation being held in a dining hall.
“I can see to it myself,” Ingrid announced lifting her chin. She had not gone from one dangerous situation only to find herself compromised in another. The man before her may be friend or foe but by damn she would not strip naked for him or any other man.
“Stubborn, woman. Theobald will not approve…” His voice trailed off whilst he continued to assess her for further injuries.
Her head cocked to one side. “I believe Theobald would not care to find me undressing for you insidehistent,” she chimed in until Oswin burst out in laughter. She stood and made her way to her pallet.
“You may have that aright, my dear. Do not fall asleep, Ingrid,” Oswin warned. There was a sense of comfort when she heard the formality of her name passing his lips. “I will see if I can find a surgeon or Theobald to see to your injuries since you will not let me attend you. Will you be able to fend for yourself until my return?”
“Aye, of course. Thank you for coming to my aid, Sir Oswin,” she muttered watching him carefully. He went to the table to retrieve his helmet.
He turned back to stare upon her before a wicked smile spread across his handsome face. “Mayhap you will do me the honor of calling me Oswin, given all we have been through together?” he asked waiting for her reply.
“We shall see,” she answered not wishing to give him an indication she might be interested in him after the battle was over. She may have been saved from one ruffian this day, but she truly did not know the man standing before her enough to completely trust him.
“Stay awake,” he reminded her before he left her to her solitude.
She had every intention of obeying Oswin’s command. Truly she did. But when her body started to sway, her pallet seemingly called to her to rest for only a moment or two. Laying down, she quickly fell asleep where Theobald once more filled her dreams.
Chapter Eleven
Theobald ducked, narrowlymissing the sword aiming for his neck. The battle this day had been as brutal as the one the day before with no end in sight. He had lost sight of Ingrid hours ago and prayed she was still safe and unharmed. Reynard fought close by and was, of course, holding his own. Theobald would expect no less from his brother. Whilst the battle had continued, he was unsure if the Empress’s army was making any advancement to gain control of the city or to overtake the castle where the bishop’s men were held up. There seemed to be no end in sight.
A familiar face briefly came into his vision. Theobald was surprised to see none other than Lord Richard Grancourt fighting near at hand. Grancourt shared a deep friendship with his older brother, Wymar, but in truth, Richard was akin to another brother. They were all that close and they had all fought together for the empress’s cause at Battle of Lincoln.
“Grancourt,” Theobald shouted in an attempt to gain the man’s attention. He watched Richard continue to fight until his enemy’s helm went flying off his head.
Richard’s fist swung forward and landed in his adversary’s uncovered face. He turned then smiled broadly at Theobald. “Norwood! A good day for a fight, is it not?”
Theobald laughed. “Aye, as long as we win the day,” he called out. Swinging his blade, he felled the knight before him. Another, as always, quickly took his place. Theobald fought onward.
“I have no doubt ’twill be so,” Richard at last answered. “I will seek you out when the day is over.”
Theobald had no time to reply. His concentration needed to be at the task at hand… to stay alive to see yet another day. Before long, a white flag appeared upon the battlement wall. A call to cease for the day to collect the dead and injured. Theobald was thankful for the reprieve. As he began to leave the field, he espied the hilt of a familiar looking sword half buried in the muck beneath his feet.Good Lord! This belongs to Ingrid.
The hilt of her sword was familiar to him. The actual blade, not so much since Ingrid kept the weapon close to her at all times, carefully sheathed in her scabbard. He wiped off the dirt and blood that had covered the steel. The engravings etched in the metal came into focus and he frowned. Upon closer inspection, Theobald realized this sword was costly and did not appear as though it should have been in the hands of a mere farmer. But this was of no consequence for now. He would ask the lady about it later.
Frantically, Theobald’s gaze traveled to those lying upon the ground. Ingrid was not to be seen so where the devil was she? His name being called out caused him to level his eyes upon Kingsley who was running in his direction.
“Hurry,” he ordered when he reached Theobald’s side.
“What has happened?” he asked afraid of the answer considering his friend’s worried frown.
Kingsley whipped his hand over his eyes. “Oswin sent me to fetch you. ’Tis Ingrid. She has been injured.”
“How bad is it?” he asked picking up his pace to reach his tent.
“I have no idea.” Kingsley met him step for step. “I only met Oswin on his way to find a surgeon.”
