“Take command,” Michael ordered. “Hold the line. Push them back if ye can.”
James gave a sharp nod. “Aye.”
“Nay! We fight on!” Alexander insisted, pushing himself further into the fray.
The battle was becoming dense, the rain falling and drenching everything around them. But Alexander kept going, hearing nothing but the cries of men, the swinging of swords, and the clash of steel.
The battle around him seemed to become quieter as he pushed on, and soon James was yelling for the men to capture the prisoners. The battle was finally drawing to a close, and Alexander paused, catching his breath in the muck and blood. That was when he gave in, falling to his knees, exhaustion overwhelming him.
Michael did not wait. He wrapped his arm around Alexander, half-dragging him toward the horses nearby. The pain in Alexander’s ribs worsened with every step, his breath coming short and ragged. His mind screamed at him to stay, to fight, but his body betrayed him.
Michael shoved him toward his mount. “Up, now.”
Alexander barely managed to swing himself up into the saddle. His vision swam, his grip on the reins weak. Michael mounted the horse beside him, cast one last glance at the battlefield, and spurred his horse forward.
They rode hard, the wind whipping at them as they raced toward the castle. The battlefield faded behind them, but Alexander could still hear the horn of retreat and the cries of the dying.
Something else was wrong. More than the ambush, more than the wound in his side.
His body felt strange, heavy, as if the very blood in his veins was thickening. He blinked hard, shaking his head to clear the fog creeping into his mind, but it did him little good.
Michael rode close, his voice distant. “Stay awake, Alexander.”
Alexander grunted in response, his fingers tightening around the reins, but his grip slipped, his body swaying. The trees blurred around him, the world spinning dangerously.
Michael reached for him. “Dinnae do this. Stay awake!”
Alexander’s vision darkened. The last thing he felt was the warmth of the blood trickling down his side before the world turned black.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sleep evaded Helena that night. Only once she was purely exhausted was she able to rest. Curling up in their bed, his scent on the pillows was the only comfort she could find.
The servants must have been instructed to let her rest because no one came to wake her for breakfast, and when she woke up, it was nearly noon. Dressing quickly, she wandered to the kitchen to see if there were any remnants of breakfast to be had, bumping into Alice on the way there.
“I’m glad ye finally got some rest. I heard ye were up most of the night,” Alice told her quietly as they reached the kitchen. She signaled to a maid before instructing, “Gather a small basket for us to take to the garden—we could both use the fresh air this morn.”
“Aye, Me Lady.” The maid nodded, scurrying about the kitchen to do as she was asked.
“I’m sorry if I kept ye up. I didnae realize ye could hear through the wall,” Helena offered, her mind wandering to the time she and Alexander had kept each other awake well into the night. She blushed. “I, um… Well, I…”
“Tsk, dinnae look all abashed now.” Alice had recognized exactly where her sister-in-law’s thoughts had wandered. “Ye are married, and I have two braithers. Both of them are very much grown men with needs. That nay longer keeps me awake at night. Just dinnae tell me about it—I dinnae want to ken a thing about either of me braithers’ nocturnal activities. Aye?”
“Aye,” Helena agreed with a laugh. “’Tis fair.”
“Good.”
The maid returned with a small basket of food and a water skin, handing both over to the ladies.
“Thank ye, Sara.”
They wandered to the rose garden, where they laid out a blanket beneath the warmth of the early afternoon sun and sat down.
“The sky nay longer weeps. Perhaps that will bring good fortune and they can return even sooner,” Helena commented hopefully, her eyes closed as she tilted her head back to bask in the sunlight.
They chatted about inconsequential things while munching on shortbread and dried fruits that Sara had packed in the basket. Most of the day was spent that way, with the two women just enjoying each other’s company and welcoming the distraction.
Just before dusk, they were visiting Acco in the stable yard as she zoomed around. The filly had outgrown the confines of the barn stall and had been moved outside with her mother. To her credit, the mare now ignored her antics, not bothering to lift her head until she ran into the fence when she failed to stop, sliding in the mud like a boulder down a hill. The mare gave a concerned nicker, pausing long enough to watch the filly regain her feet with a loud squeal, then resumed eating once more.
