He smiled at her, lifting a hand to kiss it gently. “I was a fool to have ever left you at the apothecary. It is my fault.”
This time, Ghislaine was well aware of the kiss on her hand. It was the most beautiful, tender expression she had ever experienced and she reached up, putting a hand on his stubbled cheek. It was a touch she would remember for the rest of her life.
“I should have known you would have kept your word,” she murmured, her fingers caressing his skin. “Forgive me, Norman.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “It is Gaetan.”
“You are a Norman.”
He wasn’t going to argue with her about it. Grinning, Gaetan put a big hand over her hand as she fondled his cheek, feeling the touch more deeply than he’d ever felt a woman’s touch. There was something about it that went clear to his soul. Then he kissed her palm, warmth reflecting in his eyes as he looked at her.
“There is nothing to forgive,” he said, kissing her palm again before lowering her hand. Then, he returned his attention to Aramis and Lance, who had finished tying off a series of very tight bandages against her bloody thigh. “Can I move her now?”
Aramis, who hadn’t missed the tender scene, was feeling a great deal of disappointment and he struggled to maintain an even manner.
“Aye,” he said, unable to look at either Gaetan or Ghislaine. “The bandages should hold until we can reach their physician.”
With that, Gaetan bent over and scooped Ghislaine up against him, moving for his horse as Téo and Lance ran alongside him. Aramis couldn’t even bring himself to do it. As he watched Gaetan carry Ghislaine away, he felt as if his heart had just been ripped out. Oblivious to Aramis’ thoughts, Gaetan kept walking.
“I will follow you,” he said to Antillius as he moved passed the man. “Lead the way.”
Antillius nodded, watching them head to their horses before he snapped orders to his own men, who rushed back into the trees. Very shortly, those same men appeared on horseback, leading another horse for Antillius, and when the knights came off the road and headed back into the trees where the Tertium were waiting, the entire group tore off towards the west, through a vast meadow and disappearing into a heavy forest in the distance.
They were in Tertium lands now, a vast and wide place as ancient as the world itself.
CHAPTER TWENTY
?
Ne sais-du pas?
This time, Ghislaine remembered everything.
As blood seeped through the bindings on her right thigh, she’d ridden with Gaetan up hills and through forests, leaping across streams as they followed the swift Tertium on their nimble horses.
The Norman war horses, while fast, were heavy beasts, muscular like their masters, and therefore weren’t as swift as the lighter horses with the long legs. Seated behind Gaetan on his animal, Ghislaine held on tightly as they traveled over unfamiliar territory.
They were deep in Tertium lands.
There were no roads, no landmarks, only meadows, hills, and forests in the most primal sense of the word. Ghislaine knew Mercia, or at least most of the south and east of it, but here in the west, it was a wild place, largely ignored by her brother except for a few major villages like Worcester, Birmingham, and Shrewsbury. The area they were in was positioned between the larger portion of Mercia to the north, east, and south, while to the west, Wales loomed.
This was still part of the shadowlands; that is, mysterious and dangerous territories that stretched as far as the eye could see and a part of Mercia that her brother, Edwin, had essentially turned a blind eye to. There were too many warring and territorial tribes there, the Tertium included, and his focus was on Harold and the lands of his territory that he could more easily control.
Strength draining and leg hugely paining her, Ghislaine buried her face in Gaetan’s back, holding him close as they traveled over the land. Gaetan was reining his horse with his left hand while the right hand held Ghislaine’s right leg behind the knee, trying to keep it elevated and braced against his right hip as they traveled.
It seemed like they rode for miles and miles upon end. Ghislaine was growing groggy from the blood loss, from exhaustion in general, but suddenly, they were deep in a forest of ancient oak trees, in a clearing with a massive canopy of branches overhead and a stream that ran through the middle of it. It smelled of all things damp and leafy. There were people in the clearing. In fact, there was an entire village, with huts made out of rock that was dredged up from their farming fields and local river beds.
Deep in the forest, an entire world had sprung up.
Lifting her head when the horses slowed and they entered the outskirts of the hidden village, Ghislaine was very curious about her surroundings. People rushed out to greet their returning men but when they saw them in the company if nine very large warriors, a priest, and a lady, they seemed to back off, inherently fearful of anything from the outside. Their men had returned with what was termed in their language as an allii. Others. These were not people who were part of their world.
As Ghislaine saw all of the suspicious and fearful faces, she whispered to Gaetan.
“These people hate my brother,” she said quietly.
Gaetan looked around at the faces of the women and children. He could see their fear, their mistrust. He was calm in his observation, assessing the situation.
“Mayhap that is true, but Antillius offered to help you even knowing who your brother was, so do not worry,” he said. “Moreover, I am here. So is my sword. If they make any attempts against you, I will defend you.”
Ghislaine smiled faintly, looking up at him and meeting his eyes as he looked at her over his shoulder. “You would be my champion, then?”
He had a glimmer in his eye that set her heart to racing. “Among other things.”
There was something innately seductive in that reply but Ghislaine was prevented from answering when the horses came to a halt. Suddenly, Aramis was there, pulling her off of Gaetan’s beast and holding her against his broad chest just as Gaetan had done. Antillius came towards them, parting the crowed and pulling along an old woman who evidently took exception to being bossed around.
Antillius was pointing to Ghislaine, explaining the situation, and once the old woman understood, she went right to Ghislaine and tossed up the edge of her cote, seeing the bloodied bandages. She didn’t even pause to look at the injury; she could see that it was bad. She turned to walk away, beckoning for the lady to follow.
“This way, this way,” she said, pushing through the crowd that had gathered. “Bring her this way!”