by Shay Savage
Janet appeared, bringing Dunstan a cup of tea she said would help with the pain. He drank it down as I talked to Branford about Edith and her unusual sewing. His eyes widened at the thought, but when he spoke, his voice was desperate.
“Do you think you could do such a thing?” he asked. “Use a needle to sew through a man’s skin? I have heard of it, but I have never seen it done.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I have never done it before or even seen it be done. It would be very painful. If nothing is done, I fear the leg will be lost.”
“If it could save his leg, he would endure the pain.”
I nodded and sent Janet for my sewing needles and the strongest thread she could find. Michael fetched water and cloths to clean blood from the leg while Branford attempted his own brand of pain reduction—in the form of strong mead.
As Dunstan drank, I put everything I would need on the end of the bed.
“He will have to be held down tightly.” I looked to Branford, who nodded and switched places with Michael. He knelt on the floor and wrapped his hands around the young man’s calf—holding it firmly against the bed while I wiped blood from the gash in his thigh.
Dunstan’s body jerked as the needle entered through his skin, but he did endure, as Branford had said he would, until I had to pull the skin taut so the thread could pull and bind the edges of skin and seal the gash. I wished I was able to close my ears as well as my eyes as he began to scream—necessitating both Parnell and Camden to hold him against the bed as he thrashed. Branford’s arms flexed, and the muscles grew tight as he tried to keep the leg from moving.
“Work quickly!” he said through clenched teeth.
“I am trying,” I replied. I did not want to have to retrace my stitches, so I knew I needed to be careful. One of the other solders joined us to keep Dunstan as still as possible. I had managed to sew up two-thirds of the wound when Dunstan’s body went still.
“Is he—?” Branford cried out to Parnell.
“Passed out,” Parnell replied with a shake of his head. “He still breathes. We should finish quickly. I do not know if he can take much more.”
With Dunstan unconscious, I could work faster to complete the remaining stitches to hold the wound closed. With Janet’s help, I wrapped clean bandages around Dunstan’s thigh and sat back. Sunniva came up beside me, holding out a bowl of clean water. The queen herself helped me to clean the blood from my hands, and the king and prince moved Dunstan to a more comfortable resting place.
“Will he live?” Sunniva asked quietly.
“Only time will tell,” I said. “He is through the worst of it, I think. But I know very little of healing.”
“You were magnificent,” Sunniva stated. “It is fitting—he saved Branford, and now you may have saved him.”
When the tears came to my eyes this time, I let them fall.
Janet was left to watch over Dunstan as Branford and I followed the king and queen back to the grand hall, Parnell and Ida trailing behind. When we arrived, there were a few members of the court waiting for us, and Branford gave a quick recounting of Edgar’s army, the battles they fought over the time he was gone, the losses, and the conditions of his surrender.
There were many concessions Branford was forced to give to Hadebrand. His title to Sterling Castle was given to Edgar, along with the lands encompassing the village of Wynton. In addition, Edgar now held a high position in the court at Silverhelm and would be coming to the castle on a regular basis to meet with Camden and Branford. This, it seemed, was the most regrettable of all the concessions Silverhelm was to endure with the loss of the war.
After hearing the depiction of Branford’s surrender, Camden dismissed us, telling Branford to rest and tend to me. My husband’s weary eyes met mine, and he did not hesitate to take my arm and lead me to our rooms. As soon as the door behind me was closed, I was in his arms and being carried swiftly to our bed. He pulled off my clothing unceremoniously and discarded his in the same manner.
He reacquainted himself with my curves, sliding his hands slowly from my shoulders to my hips before coming back up to wrap them around my breasts. He suckled each of them in turn as he slowly brought our bodies together.
I dropped my head and groaned at the feeling of the pressure inside of me as he entered. I missed this so very, very much while he was away. For a long moment, he stayed still and buried inside of me, and I was grateful. When he began to move, he moved slowly in and out of me as his mouth warmed my nipples. He moved one of his hands down between our bodies, and his thumb matched the pace of his slow thrusts.
“Oh! Branford!” I cried out as his motions quickened and my body responded, clenching tightly around him. I dug my fingers into his shoulder blades, and my back arched as his tongue and teeth continued to work my nipples.
“I love you…my wife…”
“My Branford…”
Branford moaned his prayers as he filled me, the tight muscles of his arms capturing my body and holding it firmly against his own. Rolling to his side, he held me in his tight embrace as he kissed and nibbled at my neck.
“I love you,” I whispered to him.
“And I love you,” he replied, “more than you will ever know. Images of you in my head were the only reason I could keep going. Even when loss was inevitable, I knew I had to get back to you…see your face again…”
“I missed you so much!” I cried as I wrapped my arms around his neck and finally let my tears flow freely. He held me tight against him, whispering softly to me and rocking our bodies together.
Though still exhausted from countless nights of poor sleep, neither Branford nor I did much sleeping the night of his return. However, we did spend most of the morning lying in the bed with our arms wrapped tightly around each other.
“I do not ever wish to be away from you again,” he told me.
“Then do not leave again,” I responded.
Branford’s eyes sparkled at me as he leaned forward and captured my mouth with his and then continued over my jaw to my ear and down my neck.
“Never again,” he whispered against my skin. “Besides, I have a mind to keep you right here until you are definitely carrying my child.”
“I would not object,” I responded.
I worked my fingers through his hair and vowed to myself to cut it for him this morning as well as to give him a shave and maybe even make use of the bathtub. I lay my head on the pillow, and Branford settled against my shoulder, gazing up at me for a very, very long time.
In the days that followed, Branford and Camden spent many late nights together, discussing what had happened and how Silverhelm would recover from the loss. I knew my husband’s sense of guilt over the deaths of his men weighed heavily on him, and he did his best to ease the suffering of the families who lost their fathers and husbands. Dunstan survived though he would probably walk with a limp for the rest of his days. He could no longer be a soldier, but he would still be able to serve Silverhelm with the highest of honors—as the savior of his prince and future king. In the months that followed, despite dealing with the losses he had endured, Branford was very single minded.
Branford’s sole focus became securing his heir.
*****
Autumn…
Winter…
Spring…
Summer…
Autumn…
Winter…
*****
The first snow fell lightly from the sky, tiny little flakes that were just barely enough to cover with a dusting of white the field outside the morning room window. It was beautiful to witness, and I had found that winter was my favorite season in Silverhelm. I inhaled the cool, crisp air before closing the shutter to the chill.
I walked back into the bedroom and nodded at Janet, who was collecting my things. Branford sat motionless, his arms resting on his legs as he leaned forward, his hands dangling between his thighs. He did not look up at me as I gathered my sewing and placed it on top of the pile of cl
othing near the wardrobe. My heart ached for him…for us…but there was nothing I could do.
It was my second winter as Branford’s wife, and despite what had become nearly constant effort over the harvest season, I was again heading to the women’s room for my bleeding time. Janet placed my clothing in a leather wrap and hoisted it under one arm. As the girl moved around the room, Amarra followed her—sniffing with curiosity at the bundle under her arm. We started toward the door when Branford called out.
“Alexandra, wait,” my husband implored as his eyes met mine. I paused, and Janet followed suit. Amarra’s ears perked up at the sound of Branford’s voice, and she went to his side. “Stay a moment.”
“Branford…” I let my voice trail off. I knew how difficult it was for him, for it was the same in my heart. Being away from him—even for only a handful of days—was always painful, and our people paid for it dearly at times. Branford’s temper may not have been what it once was, but his bite could still be felt most readily. I had heard talk of our people going to the church in droves to pray for me to be with child soon, and I knew Branford’s prayers had increased manyfold.
“Just a moment alone.” His eyes darkened as he looked at Janet and then back to me. With a motion from his hand, Amarra jumped onto her cushion by the fire and settled her head on her paws to watch us.
“We are not supposed to.” My reminder was unnecessary, but I felt I needed to say something. I had already waited too long to leave the company of my husband. His audible breath and clenched hands demonstrated how much this particular rule from the church held no interest for him. I was sure if it was in his power, he would abolish the practice completely.
“We should go, Lady Alexandra.” Janet spoke quietly, her gaze darting between mine and my husband’s.
“I am still speaking to my wife,” Branford stated.
“She should be—”
“So help me God, Janet,” Branford yelled suddenly, “get the hell out of this room, or I will throw you out the window!”
Glancing at me quickly, Janet wisely heeded his words and scampered out the door with an armload of my things. I turned to Branford and shook my head.
“You should not scare her so,” I said, chastising, but he was not interested in such words. For the most part, Branford was more reserved in his treatment of the servants of Silverhelm Castle, but he had never warmed toward Janet. I knew he had searched for more information on her background—her family and her homes prior to Silverhelm—but he had been unsuccessful. This made him nervous.
Branford rose from his chair and pulled me against his chest, crushing his lips against mine. Though I knew it was my duty to resist, I was incapable of denying myself to him and his passion. I parted my lips and tasted his tongue in my mouth as I circled his neck with my arms.
“I cannot stand for you to be away from me!” He moaned against my lips. “If I had known last night, I would have taken you again.”
“I know, my Branford,” I whispered back. I ran my hands from his neck into his hair, tilting his head to look at me. “I love you, and I will be back soon enough. We can try again.”
He blinked a few times and looked to one side, nodding his head but still not releasing my waist. His gaze found the window, and he seemed to contemplate the falling snow as his fingers pulled me closer to him.
“I hate this!” he suddenly yelled. He turned his blazing eyes back to me, and I could not help but cringe a little though I knew I was safer here in his strong arms than anywhere else in the kingdom. “I hate being separated from you, and I hate that you are still not…not…”
He lowered his head to my shoulder as his hot breath came out of his mouth in pants.
“I know, my Branford,” I said softly. “I know it pains you…I am so sorry.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around my back and he pulled me even closer against his body.
“My anger is not directed toward you, my wife,” Branford said, his voice slightly calmer. He looked out the window again and sighed before he rested his cheek on the top of my head. “At the moment, I am only angry with God. I’ll go ask forgiveness from Father Tucker later.”
“I know,” I whispered against his neck. I felt his lips on the top of my head, and I pressed mine against his throat. “I must go now.”
“I do not want you to.”
I reached up and stroked the side of his face. He was so beautiful, even when he demonstrated his petulant side. His grip on me tightened, and I allowed him to pull me close for another moment. I heard his sigh as his hands dropped from me. “Go quickly before I change my mind.”
I nodded and headed out the door.
“Alexandra?”
“Yes?” I looked back to his pained eyes.
“I love you, my wife.”
I smiled at him.
“And I love you, my Branford.”
Though most of the kingdom would agree, Branford’s marriage to me had tempered him somewhat, but he was often still a mystery to his people. He hid what was inside him most of the time and rarely showed his emotions. He tried to keep many of his thoughts to himself, even from his adoptive parents, but never from me. Truly, there was little Branford could keep from me even when he tried. I knew he was allying with Seacrest and Peaks—securing armies to win back the childhood home that was precious to him. He also spoke to Parnell late in the night about bringing both Wynton and even the Village of the Eagle back into Silverhelm lands.
Someday, there would be another war.
As he began to feel his years, Camden’s health was frail, and it was possible Branford would take the throne within the next year. The fact that I had not yet given him a child was tearing him apart, and I knew it. As much as he prepared for another war, he dared not attempt battle with Hadebrand again as long as he had no heir.
I longed to make it so—to give him that peace—but there was nothing I could do.
Even as Branford whispered to me that it was God’s will, and He would grant me a child when He saw fit, I knew that sentiment did not really hold true for my husband. He needed a child of his seed, and time was running out. I wasn’t sure what would happen if I did not conceive soon. I had not truly allowed the idea to enter my thoughts, even when I remembered the words King Camden spoke to me when I was still new to this castle.
The Women’s Room was warm and inviting with its fires burning brightly. I took my place at the far side of the room where the large bed had been moved away from the chill of the window. Janet arranged my things on a table and hugged me briefly.
“I’ll get your tea,” she said, “and I will make sure the kitchen sends Sir Branford his favorite foods for his supper tonight.”
“Thank you, Janet,” I replied. “He may not appreciate it, but at least he may eat.”
“I’ll make sure of it, Lady Alexandra.”
As I settled in and picked up my most recent sewing, the door opened to reveal Ida, her rounded stomach looking more and more protruding every day.
“Ida, you are so close!” I exclaimed. “You look as though your child will be brought forth any moment now.”
“You may be right,” Ida said. She was unable to hide her smile though I knew she tried to keep it subdued around me. Truly, I was ecstatic for her and for Parnell. Though their child would be a child of Sawyer, I knew Sunniva felt joy when she thought of her impending grandchild. I hoped it kept her mind from worrying about Camden’s health. “I have felt pains for the past day now.”
“I cannot wait to see your child,” I said.
Ida’s smile faltered when she saw my things near the bed and realized I was in the room for more than just a visit. She came to wrap her arms around me, and I heard myself sigh against her.
“How is Branford taking it?” she asked.
“In his usual manner.”
“Has an alert been issued?” she said, trying to smile again though it did not show in her eyes.
“I believe Janet has warned everyone, yes.” I sh
ook my head. “His temper has improved. Unfortunately, that means he is more melancholy. I believe that frightens the soldiers more than his shouting.”
Ida lowered herself into the chair beside me and leaned back as she tried to find a comfortable position in which to sit. She placed her hands across her huge belly as she tried to lean toward me and speak softly.
“I’ve heard if you come together every night for a month, you are bound to be with child soon.”
“Just every night?” I scoffed and placed my sewing on the table beside me. I saw no reason for discretion with my husband’s sister, and I leaned toward her as well so our heads were nearly touching. “Ida, your brother is…well, he’s nearly insatiable. Unless I am staying in the Women’s Room, he takes me as much as three times a day, sometimes more. Every night and every morning when we are sharing a bed, he is inside of me.”
Ida looked down and her cheeks flushed.
“What will you do?” she asked quietly.
I lifted my shoulders only to drop them again.
“I will pray,” I said. “What else can I do?”
*****
The day after I left the confines of the Women’s Room, all the nobles were called to court for the usual discussions of state. King Edgar and his entourage entered the grand hall and strutted through the room to take their seats at the front of the court. Princess Whitney was there, as usual. Her only real purpose seemed to be to annoy Branford. But with Whitney came Hadley, so I could not be disappointed.
Having my lifelong friend here in Silverhelm with me every fortnight was wonderful. We had always been close, and it seemed nothing had changed between the time I left Hadebrand and the time she started visiting Castle Silverhelm as part of King Edgar’s procession. She was not allowed in the grand hall with the court, but soon after the court adjourned, Hadley was given leave of Whitney for a short time, and she would join me in the gardens.
“It is so good to see you again,” she said as we embraced. “I know these meetings are hard on you and Silverhelm, but I am glad to be in your company again.”
