Word of Honor (Knights of Valor Book 1) (20 page)

“I had no
idea Hardi was such a good rider, much less so talented at the joust,” Johamma disclosed.

“You will
learn a great deal about your new husband,” Merryn guaranteed. “And you will
have a lifetime in which to discover it.”

After a few
minutes of rest, Geoffrey and Hardi moved to opposite ends of the field and
readied themselves for the final contest. Merryn said a quick prayer, hoping
Geoffrey would remain safe. Johamma clutched her hand tightly as the men
spurred their horses on at breakneck speed.

Geoffrey
thrust his lance forward so fast as the two men drew side by side that it
seemed a blur to Merryn. Despite the noise from the horses’ hooves, she heard
the lance make contact.

Hardi flew
from his horse. He hit the ground with a loud thud, his horse galloping on
without him. Johamma screamed and flung herself from her seat, rushing to her
new husband. Merryn followed on her heels. Geoffrey pulled on his horse’s reins
and circled back around.

Johamma
flung her body atop Hardi’s, sobbing loudly as he remained still, as if in
death. Geoffrey leapt from his horse and pulled her aside so the court
physician could get closer to examine him. The man removed the helm. Hardi’s
eyes stayed closed.

“Help me to
get this mail from him,” the physician ordered. Geoffrey handed Johamma off to
Merryn, who drew her arms about the young girl protectively. Several knights
came and aided Geoffrey in removing the chain mail from the unconscious earl.
When they did, all could see the pool of blood darkening Hardi’s cote-hardie.

Geoffrey
rose, a dazed look on his face, and moved away from the group. Merryn released
Johamma and ran after him.

She reached
him as he yanked off his helm and slammed it to the ground.

“God’s
teeth!” he roared. “I’ve gone and killed another one of Berold’s sons.”

Merryn
stepped quickly into action, ordering a large banner to be placed on the
ground. She instructed several knights to lift Hardi onto it and use the banner
to support and carry him inside the castle to the solar. The men did her
bidding, trotting quickly behind her. The physician followed them. Johamma
brought up the rear of the procession, her anguished sobs the only sound in the
meadow.

Tilda
appeared at her arm as they came to the open gates of the castle.

“What might
ye need, my lady?”

“Bring my
bag,” she ordered. “And have hot water boiled and some eggs sent to the solar
at once.”

Tilda
scurried off, the fastest Merryn had seen the servant move in years.

She
motioned for the soldiers to continue along with her. Within minutes, the young
earl rested atop the bed in the solar.

Hobard, who
carried his own bag of medicines and tools, ordered the men from the room.

“We must
remove his clothing. I would see what ‘tis the cause of the bleeding.”

Merryn’s
fingers worked quickly. Between the two of them, and the dagger the court
doctor claimed from his bag, they doffed what Hardi wore and tossed it aside to
the floor.

Johamma
knelt down and lifted pieces of the clothing to her face and wept into them.

Merryn’s
eyes met the physician’s. She nodded to him. He reached into his bag and
rummaged around till he found what he needed.

He moved to
Johamma. “My lady,” he said gently, taking her elbow and having her rise to her
feet, “I know you are most distraught. I should ask you to drink what I give
you.”

He held up
a vial with an amber liquid inside.

“This will
calm you. I would like you to lie down and rest. You shall need to be at your
strongest for when your new husband awakens.”

Johamma
nodded dully. She dutifully took the vial and downed its contents, making a
face as she swallowed.

Merryn
spied Tilda lurking near the doorway and waved her over. “Take Lady Johamma to
Lady Elia’s room. Have Lady Elia stay with her.”

Tilda
nodded and took the crying noblewoman in hand, leading her from the room like a
lost child.

Hobard
examined Hardi’s wound. Merryn decided that Geoffrey’s lance must have found a
gap in the earl’s chain mail. Though the tip of the lance had been blunted, the
force from the speed of the horses had driven it deep, puncturing the skin. The
physician’s fingers manipulated the tear.

“’Tis a few
ribs broken,” he noted. “And the bruising will soon follow. But I must stitch
the skin closed. We shall need linen to bind his ribcage and keep it intact.”

Servants
brought the requested hot water at that point, and Merryn asked for clean linen
to be sent up immediately. She and the doctor cleaned both their hands and
bathed Hardi’s wound in a mixture of hot water and wine.

“What I’m
most concerned with is his head,” Merryn said. “Since he has not come to, I
fear he hit it hard when he fell from his horse.”

Hobard
threaded his needle and began sewing up the gap.

“I agree,
my lady. Check his head while I repair his skin.”

Merryn ran
her fingers lightly along Hardi’s scalp. She turned his head to one side and
then the other. She lifted it from the pillow and moved her hands along the
back of the skull till she located a huge bump. Relief washed through her when
she saw no hole, only a lump swelling the size of a hen’s egg.

“’Tis a
huge knot which has formed near the top of his head in the rear,” she told the
doctor. “No wound, though. You will not have to trepan.”

“’Tis the
best news possible in this situation. I loathe boring into a head wound.” He
sighed. “Bathe the area in hot water. I shall view it in a moment.”

Once
Hardi’s wound had been stitched, Merryn searched her own bag of herbs and
medicines. She located the jar she needed and set it aside on the bed. She
cracked open two of the eggs she’d requested and used a pewter cup to separate
the yolks from the whites before she rubbed the egg whites over the stiches as
a soothing balm.

She softly
chanted, “In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Mary. The wound was red, the
cut deep, the flesh be sore, but there will be no more blood or pain till the
blessed Virgin bears a child again.”

After the
egg whites dried, she reached for the jar. Opening it, she rubbed the salve
over and around the wound.

“So you are
a healer? You make your own balms?”

“Aye. I
pick and grind my own herbs and turn them into pastes, salves, and draughts. I
grew up at Wellbury, the estate to the south of Kinwick. Our healer Sephare
taught me all she knew. I have continued my learning here at Kinwick.”

The
physician nodded his approval. “Help me to raise him. We’ll wrap the linen
about him, as much to protect the wound as his ribs. Good. A little tighter.
That will do.”

They eased Hardi
back onto the pillows.

“He should
remain unconscious a bit longer. I hope not more than an hour or two. Once he
awakens, we must ascertain if he knows who he is and what happened to him.”

“And he
should not sleep for a long stretch of time?”

“That is
correct. Someone should awaken him at regular intervals to question him and see
if his answers make sense.”

“I will
stay with him,” a deep voice called out.

Merryn
turned and saw that Geoffrey had slipped into the chamber. He crossed to where
they stood next to the bed.

“How is
he?”

Hobard
frowned. “As good as can be expected. A few broken ribs which will irritate him
like the Devil Himself. I stitched his wound, and that will easily hold. ‘Twill
only cause him to want to scratch as it heals.”

“And the
head wound?”

“Not too
serious,” the physician replied. “At this point. That is why once he regains
consciousness, he must be awakened periodically over the next day or two.”

“Lady
Merryn and I shall see to it,” Geoffrey declared. “We shall not leave his
side.”

Hobard
gathered his things. “Then I shall leave the young earl in your capable hands
and return to the king.”

“The king!”
Merryn exclaimed. “I had quite forgotten about him and the queen.”

“The king
is not one for being around the injured or those who are ill,” Hobard informed
them. “He has always been quite superstitious about such matters, as if being
in proximity of someone abed will cause him to do the same. Since we are to
leave on the morrow, he will be eager to be off to the next stop on the royal
progress.”

The door
opened at that moment, and Edward himself entered the solar, surprising them
all.

“How is
young Winterbourne?” he asked, glancing over at the bed and then back to his
royal physician. True concern showed upon his face.

Hobard
filled the king in on the earl’s prognosis.

“Good,
good,” Edward said briskly. “I feel we must move on, Lady Merryn, so you can
care for your patient. I shall have mine and the queen’s things packed so we
can continue on our way. We shall leave within the hour.” He took her hand and
kissed it. “My thanks to you. As always, your hospitality and graciousness make
me feel as if I were not a guest but in my own home.”

Edward
turned to Geoffrey. “And ‘twas good finally meeting you, Lord Geoffrey. Though
I did not have a chance to discuss that particular matter with young
Winterbourne here, I shall do so in the near future, once he is fully
recovered. Rest assured, the matter will be taken care of.”

“Thank you,
sire.”

“Hobard, I
shall leave you here for a few days with two of my guard. Watch over this young
nobleman carefully. When he is well on the road to recovery, you may rendezvous
with us under the guard’s escort.”

Without a
backward glance, the king turned swiftly and exited the solar.

***

Merryn and
Geoffrey stayed with Hardi constantly, with Johamma and Hobard lending support.

The first
time Hardi’s eyes opened, he groaned in pain. Merryn explained to him what had
occurred and that he would be up and about in no time. Hardi asked for water,
which she gave to him, before she asked him a few questions. She had him name
his wife and the title he held. She asked where he lived and then where
Winterbourne was located. Satisfied with his responses, she allowed him to
return to sleep.

She and
Geoffrey sat by Hardi’s bedside, holding hands, no words between them. She knew
guilt weighed upon Geoffrey for causing Hardi’s injuries, but it was an
expected part of a tournament. Especially in jousting.

What made
her most uncomfortable, though, was that the two men the king left behind were
Alard, who was friendly and agreeable, and Symond. He spoke not at all, just
stood near the doorway in the shadows, observing them at all times. She believed
much of Geoffrey’s silence to be due to Symond’s presence. She was eager to
learn what matter the king spoke of regarding Hardi and how her husband was
involved. She tamped down her curiosity and decided it could wait until they
had privacy.

The remainder
of that first day Hardi made little improvement, but he could answer their
questions after a moment of thought. Hobard told them that was a good sign. By
the second day, the earl ate some broth and a bit of bread, and his responses
were both clear and quick.

“He will make
a full recovery,” Hobard assured those gathered at the bedside as Hardi lay sleeping.
“He can return home in a day or two and allow his pretty little wife to fuss
over him.”

Merryn saw
Johamma blush at the comment.

“I shall
leave on the morrow and return to my duties for the king.” Hobard motioned
Alard forward. “Make plans for us to leave after we break our fast.”

The knight
nodded and exited the room.

“Lady
Johamma, you haven’t eaten much at all,” the physician admonished the young
bride. “Mayhap you would accompany me to the Great Hall so we can dine. I
cannot have you collapsing when your husband will need you to be strong in
order to nurse him back to full health.”

“I shall
accompany you,” Geoffrey added. He looked at Merryn. “Once our guests are fed,
I will bring up a tray for us to dine upon together if you will stay with Lord
Winterbourne.”

“Of
course,” she replied. “Take your time.”

As the
others exited the room, Merryn drew a chair close to the bed and sat next to
the patient. She glanced at the burning candle beside her, as she had used it
to measure when she needed to awaken Hardi.

Since it
was again time, she leaned over to touch his shoulder. Before she could, his
eyes opened.

“Ale,” he
whispered.

She poured
some of the watered-down ale from a carafe and helped him sit up to drink it.
Some dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it away with his sleeve. The gesture
reminded her of Ancel.

Hardi fell
back into the pillows with a sigh. “So ‘tis only you and me, my lady?” he
asked.

“Aye. Do
you need me to retrieve Johamma? Or the physician?”

“Nay. I
have a great need to speak only with you.”

Merryn
tilted her head, puzzled at his words. What could Hardi want to discuss with
her?

He closed
his eyes and swallowed hard, looking much in pain.

“Do your
ribs continue to ache?” she asked. “I can offer you a sleeping draught. Hobard
said tonight you might finally have one.”

“Nay.” He
sighed. “What pains me is my conscience. I must unburden it to you.”

She started,
becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. “I’m no confessor, my
lord. If you have need of a priest, I will happily fetch Father Dannet, who
married you and Johamma but a few days ago.”

His hand
snaked from under the bedcovers and latched onto her wrist. “
You
must
hear my confession, my lady. For ‘tis you who have been wronged by my family.
And I must do what I can to set matters right.”

Not only
did his strong fingers hold her too tightly, but the look in his eye caused her
heart to skip a beat in fear. Merryn wondered if Hardi had somehow been taken
with fever and ‘twas the delirium that spoke. But his fingers only felt warm against
her skin. She reached with her free hand and placed it upon his brow. It, too,
seemed only warm to the touch.

“’Tis no
fever I possess, my lady. Just a burning guilt. I beg you listen to my tale of
woe. You have innocently befriended my wife and me. Stood up for us with the
king. Nursed me back to good health these past few days. And I pray by the Blessed
Christ that you will forgive me.

For what
was done. To your husband.”