Medieval 03 - Enchanted

names incised in rune stones by women who died
long before Roman legions marched into the Disputed Lands.
    To Simon, it seemed a lifetime before the two
healers stepped back from Ariane’s motionless body.
    With a murmured word to Cassandra, Meg went behind
a screen, took off the soiled linen shift, and put on her ordinary
tunic once more. The linen shift would be ritually cleansed before
it was worn again.
    “She is sleeping as peacefully as could be
expected,” Meg said to Simon.
    “Dominic’s squire asked that you go to
your husband when you are finished,” Simon said.
    Meg touched Simon’s hand in silent
reassurance and went out the door to seek Dominic. She found him
with Duncan in the lord’s solar.
    “How is Lady Ariane?” Dominic asked the
instant Meg appeared in the doorway.
    Duncan looked up from his steward’s inventory
of the food. The remains of a cold meal lay nearby on a table that
was covered by a colorfully woven cloth.Duncan’s hazel eyes were intent, bright with
the leap of flames in the hearth. He knew that much depended upon
Ariane’s alliance with Simon—and through her,
Normandy’s alliance with Henry, the English king.
    “Well enough,” Meg said. “With
care, good fortune, and God’s blessing, Ariane will mend.
Unless wound fever comes…”
    Meg sighed wearily and rubbed the small of her
back. Pregnancy hadn’t been difficult for her until recently,
when the weight of the babe seemed to increase overnight, every
night.
    “Come here, small falcon,” Dominic
said, holding out his hand to his wife.
    When Meg was seated, Dominic stood and began
rubbing the aches from her back.
    “Ariane is doing better than I feared when I
saw her linen underclothes,” Meg said after a moment.
“Whatever fiber the dress is woven of apparently stems the
flow of blood as well as any powder or salve known to Glendruid
healers. Or Learned ones, for that matter.”
    “What of Simon?” Duncan asked.

“Erik said he was rather bloodied by the fight.”
    “Scrapes, cuts, bruises, lumps,” she
summarized. “None of which he would let us tend.”
    Meg sighed and leaned gratefully against her
husband’s knowing hands.
    “He blames himself for Ariane’s
wound,” Dominic said.
    “Why? How did it happen?” Meg
asked.
    “Simon faced down five renegades in order to
give Ariane time to run away,” Dominic said.
    Meg caught her breath sharply. She looked over her
shoulder at her husband with wide green eyes.
    “But instead of running,” Dominic said,
“Ariane galloped right into the middle of the battle. Because
of her reckless courage, Simon lives.”
    “It was that close?” Meg asked in a low
voice.
    “Aye,” Dominic said, his expression
bleak. “I owe the cold Norman heiress a great
debt.”
    “Cold?” Duncan asked. “A cold
woman would have watched Simon die without blinking. Rather I would
say that Ariane is a woman of deep passion.”
    “But not for men,” Dominic said
bluntly.
    The certainty in his voice made Duncan wince and
shake his head in silent sympathy for Simon the Loyal.
    There was a sudden rush and moan of wind around the
keep. A shutter banged on the third floor. Simon’s gyrfalcon,
alone among all the unoccupied perches in the great hall, cried out
to her own kind. There was no answer.
    The sentry called the time from the
battlements.
    Dominic stood and paced uneasily. After a moment he
headed for the battlements with a determined stride.
    “There has been no sign of renegades,”
Duncan called after him.
    “’Tis not renegades I fear, but
winter,” Dominic said without pausing.
    A few moments later the sound of his boots on the
keep’s spiral stone stairway echoed back down to the
lord’s solar.
    Duncan glanced at Meg.
    “What eats him, Meggie?” Duncan
asked.
    She smiled at hearing the childhood name, but her
smile quickly faded.
    “Blackthorne Keep is much on my
husband’s mind,” Meg said simply.
    “Have you heard rumors of trouble?”
    “Nay. Since Dominic dealt so harshly with the
Reevers, outlaws either avoid our lands or ride on through, leaving
our people untroubled.”
    “Then what makes Dominic as restive as a
chained wolf?”
    Meg closed her eyes for a moment. Beneath her
clothes the babe kicked strongly. She put her hands over her womb,
reassured by the life within her. However
uncomfortable pregnancy was, the babe’s obvious health
heartened her.
    “’Tis simple,” Meg said, sighing.
“I have dreamed.”
    Duncan snorted.