Her experience with Lygia, Verity, and Atia had been a pleasant one. More pleasant than she had expected. The young women had made a very hot bath in a copper tub from the water that had been steaming over the hearth and they’d stripped her of her dirty, torn clothing and put her on a stool right in the middle of the tub. Ghislaine sat stock-still as they poured the hot water over her, making sure to be very careful with her bandaged leg, before proceeding to scrub every inch of her skin.
Ghislaine wasn’t used to being treated to a bath. In fact, her baths were usually quick events, certainly not something that anyone helped her with, so to have three young women make such a ritual out of it had been very odd for her, indeed.
Sitting upon the stool, Ghislaine submitted to their scrubbing with horsehair brushes and soap that smelled of violets. Her hair was washed with flat ale and scrubbed with a bit of the soap as well. She felt she was being buffeted by powerful winds as she was subjected to the brisk scrubbing and rinsing, drying and oiling, until she was sure several layers of skin had been removed. But the truth was that it felt wonderful and, for the first time in her life, she enjoyed her sweet-smelling bath.
Perhaps there was something to this bathing ritual, after all.
After drying and brushing and braiding her damp hair, she was put into a long soft tunic with a round neck and long sleeves. Atop the tunic, the women put yet another tunic on, this one shorter so that the longer tunic beneath showed through. The bottom tunic was white while the tunic on the top was a pretty blue shade. It was even embroidered around the neck in white thread. The top tunic also had laces on the side to make it fit the wearer, so two of the women made sure the tunic fit her shapely body before piling yet one more tunic on top of her, which was more like a cloak with a soft fur lining. Ghislaine was thrilled with it. Little doe-skin slippers were placed on her feet simply to keep them warm.
Brushed, washed, combed, braided, and finally dressed, Ghislaine was helped to the bed and tucked in by the three women who then excused themselves to allow her to sleep. Ghislaine was very grateful to them.
Odd how such a simple thing as bathing made Ghislaine feel happy and content. She might even come to like such a thing. Perhaps after she and Gaetan were married, he might allow her a servant or two to help her bathe like that every single week. Maybe even every day. Her world had always been one of warfare and politics, but in that gentle hour, it took three strange women to show her what a woman was supposed to be like. She could only imagine what Gaetan would think, seeing her cleaned up for the first time and not looking like a forest urchin.
He might even like it, too.
It was to thoughts of dear Gaetan that she fell into a heavy sleep, hardly even stirring when the dog jumped onto the bed and lay down beside her. But her sleep became dreamless and heavy, until the sounds of screams began to reach into her subconscious. Even then, she didn’t awaken until Camulos, alerted by the sounds, jumped off the bed and sat by the door, whining. Soon enough, someone was shaking her awake.
“My lady?” It was Jathan. “My lady, awaken!”
Ghislaine forced her eyes open but it was difficult. She could see Gaetan’s priest hanging over the bed. He’d been outside the door, guarding it, but now he was inside. She was about to ask him what the matter was when another scream, this one nearby, had her sitting bolt-up right. She looked at Jathan with wide eyes.
“What is happening?” she demanded.
Jathan shook his head. “I do not know, my lady,” he said, “but I am going to come inside and bolt the door. We should remain here for safety.”
Ghislaine quickly nodded and Jathan pulled the heavy oaken door shut, throwing a heavy wooden bolt. The hut didn’t have any windows but slits up around the top of the walls where they met the stone roof to allow for light and the ventilation of the smoke from the cooking fire. There really wasn’t any way for them to know what was going on but the advantage was that it also kept them very safe, like a prison cell.
The sounds of screaming were becoming more frantic outside. They could also hear what sounded like roaring or growling of some kind. There were men speaking in a language Ghislaine couldn’t quite make out. She looked at Jathan with a good deal of apprehension, hearing the sounds of a struggle going on outside.
Then there were sounds of splashing and men laughing. Ghislaine swung her legs over the side of the bed, laboring with her sore right thigh.
“I wish I had my dagger,” she hissed. “I do not have a weapon at all!”
Jathan put his finger up to his lips to silence her as he reached into the belt around his waist and handed her a fairly large dagger. It was heavy and sharp, and Ghislaine felt much better with it in her hand. But she remained silent as they listened to the screaming going on outside. It was terrifying.
Suddenly, there was a great pounding at the door. Ghislaine jumped but Jathan remained calm. He had his sword leveled, prepared to defend the lady with his life, but then the pounding came again and someone was shouting his name.
“Jathan! Open this door!”
It was Gaetan. Jathan threw the bolt on the door and it burst open, nearly knocking him down. Gaetan and Aramis were in the doorway and Gaetan grabbed Ghislaine without a word, picking her up and thrusting her at Aramis, who literally dropped his sword in order to catch her. Ghislaine’s dagger fell to the floor but Gaetan ignored it; he picked up the fallen sword and handed it to her instead. His expression was serious but calm.
“There are raiders in camp,” he told her quickly. “They have come for the women and we must get you to safety. Can you use this sword?”
Ghislaine looked at Aramis’ big broadsword, now in her hand. “Aye, I can.”
Gaetan nodded swiftly. “That’s a good little mouse,” he said, a hint of affection in his tone. But he turned serious again in a flash. “Aramis will be your legs but you must be his sword. I will be your shield. Come now; follow me.”
Together, the four of them plus the dog left the hut, out into the chaotic night where people were still screaming and running as phantoms chased them through the shadows. As they neared the end of the row of cottages that fronted the pond, a big man wearing bones all around his neck and chest jumped out and bellowed, lifting a massive club with spiked ends. Gaetan kicked the man in the gut and when he doubled over, he sliced his head clean from his body. As the head went rolling, the group continued running.
Ghislaine had to admit that she was terrified. She’d been in plenty of battles, that was true, but she’d been able-bodied and able to protect herself and fight. Now, she couldn’t walk or run, and she was at a distinct disadvantage. She watched Gaetan deftly kill two more men who had charged at them and even Jathan managed to badly wound a man who had tried to club him in the head.
As they neared the kitchens that serviced the convening hall, they saw Antillius and two of his men fighting against at least four men wearing bones around their necks. One of the men had Lygia by the arm, yanking at her, as her father tried to hold on to her. Ghislaine pointed to them in a panic.