“Nay.”
There was no comfort in the answer, and I was grateful for that, because false kindness had always irritated me more than truth.
I looked south again, watching the fire fade behind the ridge until only a red stain remained beneath the smoke. “He would have held the ground.”
“And buried thirty more people when he lost it.”
My jaw tightened.
Godwin rested his forearms upon his knees. “Your father was a good lord, but when battle fever took him, he could be the most stubborn fool in Sussex.”
“I am the first man of my line to abandon Ashford.”
“You did not abandon anyone.”
Godwin nodded toward the camp below, where children clustered near their mothers and wounded men drank watered ale while pretending not to grimace.
I followed his gaze. My people were cold, frightened, grieving, and alive.
I thought of Darcy in the smoke, shouting men away from abandoned shields and sacks of grain while arrows struck the clearing around her, calm and steady.
A child shrieked somewhere below, and I was on my feet before the sound turned into laughter.
Godwin gave me a long look.
“What?”
He stood and brushed leaves from his hose. “Go find Darcy.”
“I did not ask where she was.”
“Nay, but your eyes have searched for her every few moments since we came here.”
I found Darcy beside Gilda, who had been settled near one of the low fires with her wounded arm bound in fresh linen and tucked close against her body. The older woman’s face was pale beneath the soot, and although exhaustion had deepened every line around her mouth, her tongue remained as sharp as ever.
“I told her I am well,” Gilda said as I approached.
“And I told her she’s an appalling patient,” Darcy replied.
“She fusses.”
“You tried to carry water.”
“I have another arm.”
I stopped beside them. “You were cut nearly to the bone.”
Gilda looked up at me. “And yet, as I have explained to this tiresome woman, the other arm remains perfectly serviceable.”
Darcy pointed at her. “You see what I’m dealing with?”
“Aye.”
Gilda’s eyes moved between us, narrowed, then brightened with the unmistakable pleasure of a woman who had discovered something of import.
“I have remembered something.”
“No,” Darcy said at once.
