The Lady of the Forest (Knights of Destiny) by Barbara Bettis

Author:Barbara Bettis [Bettis, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Medieval, Historical
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc
Published: 2016-10-27T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“I want ye to lie right there and no back talk, do ye hear me, young man?”

Ulah the healer pointed a scrawny finger at a cot in one corner of the cottage’s lone chamber. Her other hand fisted at her waist.

If the archer’s face hadn’t been white as flour, Henry might have smiled at the speed with which the “young man” of at least two-score years obeyed the tiny woman.

Instead, he folded his arms and stood to the side to watch Kate wrap Oscar in a woolen cover, then roll what looked like a drying cloth into a cylinder and slide it beneath his head.

After delivering her ultimatum, Ulah kept up a constant chatter while she bustled around, gathering herbs from bundles hung along the wall or from jars lined up on an old table.

“Don’t know how ye came to be so gaumless, when ye know that spawn of Satan’ll do whatever he pleases. Pity there’s not a body around to put a halt to his evil ways.”

She flicked a glance at Henry that made the back of his neck warm. Bedamned if she didn’t make him want to duck his head and apologize. Reminded him of his old grandmere. He supposed she thought he ought to stop the “spawn of Satan.” Well, he would. Just give him a few days.

Ulah redirected her stream of admonitions. “And ye, m’lady. What is it ye think ye’re doing, dashing ’round like ye got a chain of lives hanging ’bout yer neck? What would yer poor ma and da say, do ye think?”

Henry might feel like a lad under the healer’s scolding, but Kate simply raised her brows and smiled.

“Now, Ulah, you know very well my mother would not have stood aside while the people were abused. Nor would my father allow such a thing.”

Ulah nodded in time to her grinding. “Your ma were a blessing, at that. Not a better lady in Christendom. And m’lord Glenmore, a true knight he were. God rest ’em.”

Memories appeared to divert her river of words. For a time, the only sound in the quiet was that of the wooden pestle crunching the herbs and Oscar’s uneven breathing.

The patient lay with eyes closed, but the tense muscles of his face showed he didn’t sleep. Henry strode to the cot and placed a hand on his arm.

“Rest, man,” Henry murmured. “Your family needs you, as does your lady. She sets great store by her friends. I must push on to Windom, but when I return, I’ll expect to see you up and about.”

Oscar’s eyes opened at the words, and his mouth moved. Henry leaned down to listen.

“Watch over her,” he whispered. “Sir Mort…knows…she lives. He won’t…give up.”

“She will be safe here for now.”

“Wait.” He fumbled for Henry’s wrist. “Take her…with you. If’n he comes here, who’s to…stand against him? He’s got to…wed her…or no land.”

The words chilled Henry. Could he chance taking her farther? No matter how capable—and Kate was capable—a lady had no place in the kind of battle that lay ahead.

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