by Lisa Shea
At her right, Reese froze.
She instantly pulled in alongside him, holding up a hand to alert the others.
For a long moment the world stood still. Nothing but the inky black of the storm, the pelting of the hard raindrops against their bodies, against the thick hides of the horses, and there was nothing …
“There,” whispered Reese, pointing up ahead.
Kay followed his finger with her eyes. Her heart sank, felt as if an iron bar had been wrapped around it and cinched tighter, tighter. Reese was pointing to the cliff face. As her eyes readjusted to the black night, she could see the barest hint of a shape halfway up, a small horse’s head, a crumpled body.
“No …” she breathed out in agony. He could not be dead …
The small head gave a turn.
She urged her steed into action, driving toward the cliff. Her horse gave a whinny as they came toward the base of the cliff. There was an answering cry from nearby as Heather, the mother, came out to join the crew. Her eyes whirled in wild panic, her head pointing up the cliff toward her young foal.
Kay leapt from her steed, giving the reins a wrap around a nearby birch. She worked forward toward the cliff through the brambles, her eyes pinned upwards at the small shape. God’s teeth, he was at least twelve feet up there, maybe fifteen, wedged into a crevice. He must have fallen down from above, landing in that nook.
He heard his mother’s call and turned his head at that, crying out piteously.
She began to climb.
Jack’s voice was tight with exasperation. “For God’s sake, Kay,” he cried out from below. “The foal is clearly injured. If you make it down without breaking your own neck, we will only have to put it out of its misery. Let us go back for a bow and end this quickly.”
“Not on your life,” grit out Kay between clenched teeth, finding another foothold. The rock was slippery, but she had lived in these hills all her life. She had tackled climbing these rocks during spring deluges and winter ice storms. No mere force of nature was going to hold her back now.
Galeron’s voice came up to her, calm and patient. “I have the mother now, Kay,” he offered. “We have saved one of the two beasts. Let us get her back to safety.”
Kay strained with her right hand, missed the ledge, cursed as her leg slid sharply against an outcropping, then caught her hand securely on her second try. She pulled herself up. Her left foot found a crack to wedge into, and she pulled herself up level with the slim ledge the foal had been caught on.
She caught her breath. Star’s front leg was a mass of blood and brambles. The foal turned to look at her, and she gazed into those big, brown eyes for a moment. He nuzzled her, and she rubbed her forehead into his in return. She had been there for his birth. She would be damned if she abandoned him now.
Balancing herself on one arm, she used her other to gently probe at the foal’s leg. He let out a deep, shuddering breath, but held still under her movements. It did not seem that anything was broken beneath the skin. She leant forward against the rock, putting all her weight into it, then carefully used both hands to rip the hood from her cloak. She twisted the fabric and then wrapped it several times around the injured leg. She gave it a knot at the end to hold it in place. That would at least stop the bleeding until they got Star back to the stables.
“It is all right, little one,” she whispered to him, her blood pounding in her ears. Again the foal nuzzled her softly, and her heart melted at the trust he had in her. She gently slid her hands beneath his frame, getting a firm grip on his body.
Her blood suddenly ran cold. The reality of her situation sank in with full force. She was balanced – precariously – perhaps fifteen feet up on a rocky cliff. She barely made it up this far with both hands free. How could she possibly make it back down again?
She looked into the brown eyes and felt ripped in two. She would never leave him here. But to climb down with him in her arms was an impossibility. She was lost …
Reese’s voice streamed through the torrential deluge like a beam of sunlight. “Kay. Imagine Star is Joey.”
Kay shook her head in confusion. Now Reese had completely lost his mind. It was undoubtedly the combination of the inky darkness, the pounding rain, and the jagged rocks. She looked down at him.
Reese was standing beneath her, his arms open in a cradle shape. His eyes held hers and were dead serious.
“Let go,” he stated, no hesitation in his voice. “Trust me.”
Kay’s heart stopped. She felt the hammering of the thunderstorm, felt the soft heaving of the injured foal’s body, and yet all that existed was Reese and her.
He had lost a hold on his sanity. There was no way he could catch her and the foal. The ground was littered with sharp shards of rock which would slice open her skull as easily as a sword swung through spring mud. And yet his eyes promised that she would not be hurt, that he would be there, would be there …
She nodded, then took a deep breath and gathered up the foal securely in her arms. If she lost control of the young horse, then all would be lost. She needed to cradle him within her own body and trust in Reese to do the rest.
She closed her eyes, made a mental calculation of the distance back from the cliff face she would need, and pressed off from the wall.
The fall seemed to last forever. She inhaled the warm scent of the foal against her body, resonated with each beat of his heart, and soaked in the comforting assurance that she had done all she could do. It was out of her hands now. Every second seemed to last an hour.
Slam!
She was enveloped in musk and leather, the wind was knocked out of her, and Reese driven down to one knee by the force of the impact. Star kicked her hard in the ribs in panic, scrambling out of her arms, racing to his mother with a triumphant whinny. Kay doubled over in pain, rolling against Reese, moaning in agony.
“Kay! Kay! Are you all right?”
She heard it as if from miles away, and her head swam in a miasma of pain. She would not be sick. Not in Reese’s arms.
There were muffled shouts, and then she was up on a horse, Reese behind her, and they were riding through the dark night, her body a sodden turmoil of agony. It took her several moments to draw enough breath to shout out, “Star? Heather?”
Reese’s voice came low but sure from behind her. “Both are safe. The other two will bring them back safely.”
“Safe …” repeated Kay weakly.
Then the world swirled into darkness.
*
Kay’s vision swam into focus. She wasn’t in her room. The walls were filled with long shelves of jars, there were hanging herbs … she winced. She had been in the infirmary enough times over her childhood to know the room by heart. Just what had she done now?
Leland moved into sight, his face tense with worry. “God’s teeth, Kay,” he reprimanded as he ground a poultice in a mortar on a nearby table. “You should have called me before setting off after that foal. You know how bad those cliffs can be at night, never mind in weather like this.”
Kay flushed. She knew she should have waited for help, but the situation seemed too urgent to her. She bit her tongue and nodded. “I should have. I am sorry.”
“But you would not do it any differently next time,” mused Leland, his eyes gentling. “Well, then, let us see what damage you have brought onto yourself with your new injury of the week.”
Reese’s voice came from her other side. “So she comes here often, does she?” She glanced up, and he was standing beside her, looking down at her in a mixture of frustration and admiration.
Leland’s frown eased. “Not nearly as often as she should,” he responded, almost smiling. “Half the time she just tries to tough out the wound.”
Kay huffed, crossing her arms. “That is only because you treat me like a baby, when I am barely scratched! Like now, when -”
Reese glanced down. “When the blood from your leg is already soaking through your dress?” he interrupted, his voice tense. He looked a
round him. “That damn Anne is taking too long,” he added sharply. “Prudery be damned.”
He pulled his knife from his hip. “I am sorry, this has to be done,” he added to Kay. In one long movement, he sliced Kay’s garment up to mid-knee, pulling the fabric away to reveal the wound.
A twisted slice of open flesh, oozing blood, snaked up the full length of her calf. Reese let loose a low oath, then in a moment he had a wet rag from the table and was carefully wiping the blood and dirt away while Leland continued to finish creating the poultice.
Kay glanced down in curiosity. She had injured herself so many times in her wild youth that the sight of blood held little concern for her. She wriggled her toes, testing. She felt the pain of the injury, but could discern no other issues. The wound looked superficial – a steady stream of blood, but little danger of permanent damage.
She smiled and lay back against the bed, sighing in relief. “Is that all? I barely needed to bother with the infirmary for that tiny scratch.”
Reese looked at her, shaking his head. Leland came over to press down a layer of the green material on the wound. He took some clean rags from the table and tied them around to hold the poultice in place. Done with that, he wiped his hands on his pants, looking up at her with a smile.
“Well, my young mountain goat, is that the extent of your injuries for the night?”
Kay smiled wryly. “I should think so!” She pushed on one arm to sit up in bed. Instantly she was hit with a mind numbing pain in her stomach, and she doubled over, clutching at her middle.
The two men helped to ease her back onto the bed. Reese’s knife was at work again, separating her dress in half across the waist, pulling the fabric apart to reveal her stomach.
Leland’s eyes went wide. “God’s teeth, Kay,” he whispered in shock. “What in the world have you done?”
Kay wiped the stream of tears from her eyes and sat up gingerly to take a look.
There, embedded on her stomach, was the perfect shape of a small hoof mark.
“That is amazing!” she cried out in joy, her eyes shining with delight. “Is it going to stay that way? Really?” She reached down to trace the design with awe.
Reese and Leland looked at each other for a long moment, then both burst out with laughter, shaking their heads.
Anne stumbled into the room, pulling her robe on around her in sleepy confusion, looking between the two laughing men and the prone patient. “What insanity is going on in here?” she burst out in concern. “Is Kay hurt?”
Kay barely heard her. “I will be fine, Anne,” she soothed, still marveling at the beautiful decoration on her belly. “Just look at what I have done!”
Anne turned on Reese. “And you, sir,” she snapped, “you should not be in here!”
Reese glanced down at the exposed stomach and leg and flushed. “She was injured -”
Anne bustled him out. “Yes, injured. But now Keren-happuch is coming down to check on her, and you are not allowed to see the lady. So out you go.”
Reese held his gaze on Kay. “I will check on you later,” he promised.
Kay met his eyes, and the night flooded back onto her in full force. He had saved her life. He had saved both of their lives.
“Thank you,” she breathed, awed by the depth of what she owed him.
He nodded, and smiled, and then he was gone.
Chapter 6
The morning had drifted by peacefully. Galeron and Jack had both come and gone from the upper floor, offering conversation to Em and solicitous concern for Kay’s health. She had lain quietly, stretched out on the couch with a swaddling of blankets, more as a way to not be drawn into the conversation than for any real concern for her health.
The events of the previous night still swirled in her mind. The calmness of Reese’s voice beneath her, the steady reassurance she had that, when she jumped, he would catch her; he would save her. She had never felt that way about a man before. Certainly Leland would give his life for her, would do so for any member of her family. But this was different somehow.
“Kay, are you there?” asked Em for, judging by the sharp tone of voice, what must have been the fourth time.
“Oh sorry, Em, I was just lost in thought.”
“It is M’Lady,” reminded Em with a gentle laugh.
“Oh, right, sorry,” apologized Kay again. She shrugged herself up to a seated position.
“I was asking if you were sure about sending away Alistair. Any hidden rendezvous I should know about this time?”
Kay sighed, pulling her blanket closer around her, shaking her head. “No, no hidden meanings, no secret issues. I just cannot bring myself to be with someone who passively sits back and waits for life to roll him over.”
“There is something to be said in trusting in God,” pointed out Em complacently.
“Yes,” countered Kay, “And also, ‘God helps those who help themselves.’ God does not expect you to lay in bed all day, with your mouth open, waiting for manna to drip into it!”
Kay could hear the amusement in her sister’s voice. “You are very right,” agreed Em. “If this is your choice, then that is what we shall do.”
A timorous knock sounded on the door, and Kay nestled herself into the covers more thoroughly as Em called Alistair into the room. She could not bring herself to look on him. He would have sentenced Star and Heather to death. He would have sat, safely, in his warm and cozy hall, while Star shivered in fear, waiting for rescue, waiting …
Alistair’s eyes were serene. “My dear Kay, I see that my prayers have been answered. You have been brought home safe and sound.”
Kay did not trust herself to speak. She nodded as he moved around to take his seat.
Em’s voice flowed smoothly from the other side of the dark layers of curtain. “You are quite powerful at prayer, Alistair,” she intoned. “I am very grateful for the efforts you put forth to bring Kay back to me.”
“I am happy to be of service,” murmured Alistair, brightening visibly.
Em’s voice took on a more thoughtful tone. “It almost seems a shame for your talents to be wasted in menial ways. To be subject to the boring tedium of chores and miscellany, when clearly you have such an amazing talent for working the wonders of God.”
“I strive to be humble, but there are times when I would feel that way as well,” admitted Alistair, his cheeks pinkening, lowering his eyes. “There is so much I would love to do, if only I had the time.”
“We have often dreamt about having a priest available to perform special prayers for us at the monastery. Someone to pray for our departed loved ones and of course for special occasions. However, we never knew a man personally who we had faith in.” continued Em.
“I would be proud to intercede for you,” beamed Alistair. His face fell. “But of course, I have been sent away from the monastery for now.”
“We would not want to waste your talents in the tedious work of a daily life,” insisted Em, warming, “when you could be much more instrumental to the entire region’s salvation as our intercessor. Perhaps if I became your patron?”
It was as if Em had taken a torch and set Alistair alight with an inner glow. His entire body shone, and his eyes brimmed with tears.
“Would you, really?” he stuttered, almost choking in surprise.
“I could think of no other man I would entrust with our spiritual well-being,” responded Em, her voice serene. “If you would be willing?”
Alistair was on his feet in moments. “Would I be willing?” he cried out in disbelief. “It would be my dream come true!”
“The letter to your master is there on the table,” offered Em quietly. “I think the best of all possible roles for you would be as our spiritual guide and intercessor.”
Alistair grabbed up the letter, scanned it with almost unbelieving eyes, then kissed it fervently. “Thank you, thank you,” he whispered, crossing himself, looking up at the sky, then turning to run from the room, leaving the door open behind h
im.
A long minute passed, and then Reese walked in shaking his head in amazement, looking between Kay and the dark curtain. “I do not know how you two do it, but I am very impressed,” he commented, sitting down in the chair and pouring himself a tall tankard of ale. “I assume, given last night’s escapades, that you somehow told him he was better off in God’s service?”
Em’s voice bubbled with amusement. “Yes, we certainly did. And he agreed completely.”
Reese took a pull on his ale. “As would I,” he toasted to the black wall. He turned to look at Kay. “On a more serious note, how is your leg healing up?”
Kay shrugged off her cover, tossed it to one side, and slid over to sit on the side of the couch nearest him. She took the ale from his hand, downed half of it, then smiled as she handed it back to him.
“I am ready for an afternoon ride. How about you?”
Reese laughed, toasting her with his mug. “Nothing keeps you down, it seems!”
Em chimed in from her curtained nook. “That is for sure,” she agreed. “There was this time -”
Kay threw a grape at the curtain, shushing her. “No story telling!” she insisted with a laugh. “It would be unfair, because I cannot tell any stories about you!”
Reese leant back in his chair, a wide smile on his face. “You both are quite welcome to tell as many stories as you wish about each other.”
“That is not going to happen,” chuckled Kay. “Not until this game is a distant memory.”
Reese took a long drink from his tankard, then set it down.
His eyes glinted with emotion.
“I am content to wait.”
Chapter 7
Kay was almost content as they relaxed during lunch. Anne and Jessica were laughing, joking with each other as they served out the bread pudding. Galeron was working on one of his endless lists, his black curls bouncing as he made another gently teasing comment. Jack’s eyes were sharp as they took stock of the quality of the knives and the sturdiness of the table. And Reese …
She smiled as she turned to look at Reese. He was like a second skin to her, like a half of her soul. He could finish her sentences and know what she was thinking before she began. If there was trouble in one of the villages, Reese was the man she would want at her side, to watch her back, to rely on when all else had failed.
