Startled, William’s panicked horse bucked and bashed into William, sending him sailing off-balance into the newly-built wall next to him, and William, completely unprepared, hit the wall full-on with his unprotected head.
He collapsed in a heap.
Men were running from all directions, trying to contain the horses. As Paris lurched to his feet, rubbing the elbow he’d hit when he’d slammed into the ground, he saw William crumpled in the dirt over by the wall. Men were rushing towards William, so Paris began to run, too, pushing away men who were asking him if he’d hurt himself. The closer Paris drew to William, the more he could see that the man was unconscious. Men rolled him over onto his back and as Paris came up to his side, he suddenly saw the big, bloodied spot on the wall where William had hit his head.
It was all Paris could do to keep from screaming out loud at the sight.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Edenside
“Are you sureI cannot tend your wound?”
Maitland seemed very concerned, but Thomas valiantly brushed her off. “This is a mere scratch, my lady,” he assured her. “I’ve had far worse, believe me.”
That part was true. He’d had far worse wounds in the past, including a goring a few years ago in Dorset that nearly took his life. But the current wound that Maitland was speaking of was a gash to his head, received in the mass competition when a Carlisle knight clipped him with a club, trying to bring him down. Thomas, however, had remained on his feet. The same couldn’t be said for the Carlisle knight, who went down when Thomas cocked his fist and plowed it into the man’s face.
But it had all been great fun.
They were on the road home from Kelso now under fair skies as the calm afternoon waned. The days were getting longer, so sunset was still a few hours off yet. There was plenty of timefor the party from Northwood to reach home once they dropped their precious cargo off at Edenside.
Since the children and Maitland and Tibelda had walked from Edenside, being that it was very close to Kelso, some of the Northwood knights were off their horses, allowing the children to ride as they led the steeds along the road. Roland and Renard were on Garr Ellsrod’s horse, having a grand time and pretending they were knights, as Deinwald himself walked along with Phin and showed a surprising amount of patience with the lad as they discussed some of the duties that knights had. Phin, the slender and usually-silent boy, was getting quite an education.
Artus was walking alongside Thomas, who was explaining to him about the differences between the horses around them– some were rounceys, comfortable riding horses but not war horses, while the others, including Thomas’ steed, were actually war horses. Hector and Thomas’ horses were destriers, true war horses in every sense of the word, kept muzzled so they wouldn’t bite anyone.
Marybelle, Nora, and little Dyana were in the hand cart with all of the bowls and buckets they’d used to transport the goat cheese, pulled along by Maitland and Tibelda. Thomas had offered to pull the hand cart himself, but the women had refused, so he walked alongside, leading his horse and explaining to Artus about the different types of steeds until Maitland began pointing out the gash on his head. As Edenside came into view in the distance, he continued to brush off her concern, much to her distress.
“You really should have it bandaged,” she said to him. “At least put a cold compress on it to bring the swelling down.”
Thomas put his hand on his forehead, feeling the lump. “It will go down on its own by tomorrow,” he said. “But if it willmake you feel any better, I will put a cold cloth on it when I return to Wark. It does not even need any stitches.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am.”
“If Tommy is to suffer a wound, Lady Bowlin, then let it be to his head,” Hector said, on the other side of Thomas. “It is the part of his body where a wound can do the least damage.”
Maitland grinned while Thomas scowled. “It was truly thrilling to watch all of you compete today, my lord,” Maitland said to Hector. “I had forgotten how exciting a mass competition can be. It has been years since I have seen one. I am sorry you did not win the purse, but it was a good fight.”
Hector, having only met Maitland at the beginning of the contests, hadn’t had any real opportunity to speak with her. But throughout the mass competition, he saw that Thomas’ attention kept going back to the lovely woman in the brown broadcloth. The woman, Thomas had informed him, was the Guardian of Edenside, known as Lady Bowlin, and Hector immediately thought that Thomas’ support of the foundling home had an ulterior motive now that he saw the woman in charge. He’d never known Thomas to be overly supportive of charities and seeing the stunning Lady Bowlin told Hector why Thomas was suddenly so interested in Edenside.
Quite a lot made sense after that.
“We did not win the purse because Carlisle cheated,” Hector said flatly. “I know for a fact that several of his men were knocked down, but they resumed fighting, anyway. That is a flagrant foul.”
Thomas lifted his eyebrows. “Only if they are caught, and they were not.”
Hector pursed his lips irritably. “Bastards,” he muttered. Realizing he had used harsh language in front of a lady, hehastened to change the subject. “Are you from Northumberland, my lady?”
Maitland nodded, not oblivious to Hector’s quest to divert the conversation away from his bad language. “A small town called Lesbury,” she said. “It is near Alnwick. That is where my family home was.”
Hector knew Alnwick well; most knights in the north did. “And now you intend to remain at Edenside?”
Her eyes twinkled. “I am rather enjoying it,” she said. “We are making cheese to sell and making a little money. To be self-sufficient is our goal so we will not take up so much of Sir Thomas’ time and money.”
Thomas looked at her, feigning hurt. “I rather enjoy being a great benefactor,” he said. “The next time I come, I shall bring my little sister with me, the one you met at Wark. Caria could learn a thing or two from these children on how to be productive and grateful.”
On his other side, Hector snorted. “She will never learn such things if you continue spoiling her, Tommy,” he said. “I have told you that before. But you may be right– it may do her good to spend some time with the foundlings and understand what it is to work for your survival. It would be a good experience for her.”
