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“Welcome back, Brecc,” one of them called. “Lufian here was just telling us about your raid on the Viking encampment—and how you came a little too close to an enemy blade.”

“It was a knife?” Aisley whispered.

He gave a tight nod but faced his comrades with a smile. “One chance is all I allowed him.” Releasing Aisley’s hand to set his gently on her back, he introduced her. “This is Aisley, daughter of Ealdorman Kendryek of Wiltshire.”

“Ah, yes, the honorary thegn.”

A few of the men laughed. For better or worse, it appeared that they remembered her brief time at the head table.

“Aye,” Brecc said. “She has come to deliver a message to the king but has agreed to dress my wound whilst she awaits his return.”

“So, we are to disregard any cries of agony coming from the corner.”

Brecc lowered his hand and began limping toward the far end of the room. “I shall endeavor to keep them to a minimum,” he said.

The laughter redoubled. The men were happy to be back, pleased to share their stories of success. Aisley wished she felt the same elation. She glanced at Brecc’s bloodied leg. A deep knife wound that had been left unattended for two days was a serious matter.

“Rheged,” she whispered. “Do you have access to honey, vinegar, or eggs?”

He gave her a wary look. “Do they take upon themselves a powerful odor when mixed?”

“No.” She opened her satchel and began rummaging through the small bags. Now that she knew how Brecc had attained his injury, she did not feel like teasing. “But they may be beneficial to Brecc’s cut.” She withdrew a bag. “I shall also require some water, clean rags, and a small bowl.”

He must have sensed her concern, for his expression sobered. “I shall see what I can find.”

Brecc was lowering himself onto the floor in the corner when she reached him.

“Rheged has gone for water and rags,” she said, setting her satchel down beside him.

“That will be helpful.” Now that they were indoors and the firelight illuminated his face more clearly, she could see the pain in his eyes. He looked at his hose and grimaced. “This is not going to be pleasant.”

“I fear not,” she said, “but the sooner we tend to it, the better.”

He pulled his knife from his belt and handed it to her. “Cut the hose away from around the injury, and then we shall see what we are up against.”

Aisley knelt beside him. Taking off her cloak, she set one hand on his thigh and used the other to guide the tip of Brecc’s knife into the fabric. Beneath her fingers, his muscle tensed. She swallowed. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.”

He was bracing himself. That was all. She released a nervous breath. She had cared for countless wounds over the years, but never had her fingers felt so unsteady. “I shall try not to cause you undue distress.”

His hand came down over hers. “I trust you, Aisley.”

She looked at their overlapping fingers. Weeks before, his appearance in Trowbridge had strengthened her just when she’d needed it most. Now it was her turn to offer what little she could to him. “If it becomes too awful, tell me, and I shall stop.”

He nodded and removed his hand. “Cut away.”

Brecc’s knife was sharp. It took only six cuts to peel away the sodden fabric from his leg and expose the wound beneath. About the length of Aisley’s forefinger, it was impossible to tell exactly how deep the cut went, but the flesh around the incision was red and swollen.

“It’s angry with you for neglecting it so long,” Aisley said.

“I daresay.” Brecc’s head was against the wall, and his arm was across his eyes. “Can you do anything to calm it down?”

“That is my hope.”

Rheged arrived at her side, carrying an assortment of items. “One egg, honey, vinegar, three small bowls, a large bowl of water, and three rags,” he said.

“Bless you.” Aisley took them gratefully. “These are exactly what I need.”