Page 29 of Knight of Havoc
Reynard gazed down to look at the lady. Those blue orbs were filled with unshed tears as though his injury pained her. Bless her heart… “Not everyone plays by the rules, Elysande, no matter who makes them.”
He led the way to his tent, fumbling with the rope holding the entrance closed. At last, it gave way and they were able to enter his humble dwelling. Since this was only a temporary place to rest his head during the games, there was not much inside. A pallet to lay down upon, a small table with a stool and a small fire that somehow had remained lit despite the constant sound of dripping water as it hit the embers from the opening above in the roof.
He plopped down on the stool and she quickly looked into the two pitchers placed on the table. One contained wine and the other water for washing that he had set out to be at the ready upon his return. She poured wine into a goblet and handed it to him. She found a cloth and brought the pitcher of water to the edge of the table.
“Let me help you get your chainmail off since your friends have not made it here as yet,” she offered taking the wine from his hands.
“You probably should not be here alone with me, especially given that I am about to disrobe,” he said quietly even though he watched her every move intently.
“I have seen more of you during the wrestling matches than I see of you now.”
A frown briefly formed on his brow, wondering if she had ever had to assist with bathing guests in her parents’ household. It was a custom that usually went to the lady of the castle but Elysande had been managing on her own for who knows how long.
“And have you seen many men without their clothing?” he asked, only realizing after the words emerged that he had voiced his concerns aloud.
A snort left her. “Your wits must be addled from your injury to ask such a question.”
He shrugged. “’Tis common enough in most cases.”
Her eyes widened as though she suddenly figured out where his thoughts had taken him. She began yanking his tabard from his chest. “Do not allow such foolish notions to enter your mind, Reynard. And no… I did not perform such a function at Blackmore for any male guests that came to my keep.”
Relief washed over him. When she bid him to lean forward, he did his best to oblige her orders. Once the heavy chainmailwas removed, a gasp escaped her as she gently pulled at the padding that had protected his skin against the metal links.
“’Tis worse that I thought,” she murmured as she lifted the linen to see beneath it. “Pull this off, too, so I can see how deep your wound truly is.”
“Morcant knew where to inflict the injury without puncturing my lung.” He grimaced when her fingers touched his skin.
“Lucky for you the scoundrel did not push any deeper or you and I might not be having this conversation,” she replied with a frown between her brows. “I am going to need thread and a needle for this surely must be stitched.”
Before another word could be spoken between them, Richard opened the flap of the tent. Reynard could only image what his friend was thinking, considering Elysande was kneeling between his legs whilst he was bare above the waist.
“What is going on here?” Richard asked stepping into the tent with Blake following close behind.
Elysande jumped to her feet whilst a becoming blush rushed across her cheeks. “Sir Reynard has been hurt and the wound will need stitches,” she informed them, stepping out of the way when Richard came forward and began his own inspection of the wound.
Richard tossed Reynard a glare, and Reynard shot one back in return. His friend should have known Reynard did not have the strength to dally with a woman whilst a gaping hole was in his side. Richard looked up over his shoulder to Elysande. “The empress has asked for you in the great hall, Lady Elysande. Sir Blake will see you inside.”
“But Reynard’s wound,” she began only for Richard to stand and take her hand, leading her toward the exit of the tent.
“I will personally see to the wound and ensure no fever sets in, my lady,” Richard said coaxing a smile from Elysande’s lips.
“You shall let me know if he becomes ill?” she asked full of concern.
“He will be well, my lady. Now go and attend our empress before she becomes impatient,” Richard declared whilst he gave a nod to Blake to escort the lady back to the castle.
Once they left, Richard returned and took out the necessary items from his cloak to see to Reynard.
“I suppose ’tis best that I take care of this for you instead of your lady,” Richard chided with a hint of censorship to his voice.
“Her needlework would have probably been… neater than what you are about to do to me,” Reynard answered, reaching for his wine and taking a huge gulp. Once the needle entered his flesh, he grimaced and took another long pull. He would have preferred Elysande’s gentle ministrations to what Richard was currently performing. At least then Reynard would have had someone pleasing to look upon.
Chapter Twenty-One
The storm continuedto plummet down from the heavens for nigh unto two days. Elysande had heard Empress Matilda was in a foul mood because the weather was the reason the tourney could not continue. She had specifically planned the entertainment for a reason—actually, for several reasons, although finding Elysande a husband seemed secondary to keeping the empress’s people happy during their time of strife. But the rain and the lack of events did not deter those who had traveled far to witness such an event. The empress’s people continued to reside inside the castle, in tents pitched nearby, and filled the local inns in the village until such a time when the games could resume.
Elysande was left with time on her hands during the daylight hours. Since Reynard’s injury, she had been forbidden to see him, causing her to become not only full of worry but agitated. That others were seeing to his injury plagued her when she wanted to be there for him herself. Surely someone who loved the man could care for him better than his comrades or even a knight who was like his brother.
She had sent Olive out earlier to see what she could learn about the seriousness of Reynard’s illness. Servants tended to gossip. Elysande was certain that if any news was circulating within Oxford’s walls, her maid would learn the truth of it. Aknock upon her chamber door momentarily startled her out of her musings. Olive was returning faster than she expected.
