by Lynsay Sands
"Husband?" she gasped with surprise.
A soft curse sounded over her head and then the man or men dragging him immediately released their hold on his hands and began to crash away through the woods. Merry pushed herself up off her husband to glance after them, but she was too slow and it was too dark in the woods. All she could make out were the dark shapes of trees and bushes surrounding them. Whoever had been dragging her husband away from camp had disappeared.
A groan from Alex drew her gaze back to her husband, and Merry shifted next to him again, finding his head by feel in the dark.
"Husband?" she whispered, running her fingers gently over his face and hair until a groan of pain and the feel of something warm and sticky made her stop.
"Blood," Merry muttered unhappily, wishing she had a candle or torch and could better see the wound.
"Merry?" Alex growled, his voice sounding alarmingly weak to her.
"Aye. Can ye stand?" she asked. Getting him back to the safety of camp was her main concern. Her arrival had obviously startled and scared off his attackers, but they could always come back, and might very well do so did they realize she was by herself. Besides, Merry could not take care of his head wound in the dark. She wanted to get him back to the safety of the tent as well as the candlelight it offered so that she could tend his injury.
"Stand?" Alex echoed, and concern rose up in her at the vague sound to his voice.
"Aye," Merry said grimly, and hooked her arm under his to help him sit up. "Come. We ha'e to get back to the tent, husband."
"Aye, the tent," he muttered, and with her help managed to get to his feet, but Merry was taking most of his weight and it was hard work. She could tell he wouldn't be able to stay on his feet long and just hoped it would be long enough.
There were several times Alex stumbled and Merry was positive they would fall and she wouldn't be able to get him back up, but they did make it in the end.
The candle was still burning brightly when they staggered into the tent. Merry was a bit breathless and her arm and leg muscles were trembling from the night's activities as they staggered to the bed of furs.
"Here," she said breathlessly, pausing beside the pallet. "Lie down and--"
Her words died on a murmur of concern as Alex just suddenly collapsed. It seemed obvious that determination alone had got him back here and he didn't have a lick of energy left. Merry wasn't surprised. She was done in herself and wouldn't have minded collapsing as well, but couldn't afford the luxury.
Fortunately, Alex had dropped across the furs so that he lay on them diagonally. That was good enough for her. While she'd prefer he be on them properly, she wasn't going to force him to further exertion to get on the furs the right way and didn't have the energy to try to move him around herself.
Leaving him where he was, Merry moved to the chest to collect her bag of medicinals as well as the candle and then returned to kneel beside him so that she could examine his head wound. While there was blood, she was relieved to note that the injury itself didn't look too deep or damaging. It was the second injury he'd taken to his head in a matter of days, however, so her relief wasn't complete.
Merry quickly tended the injury, cleaning it up and then placing a bit of clean cloth over it to act as a temporary bandage. She then sat back and simply peered at her husband. He appeared to be either sleeping or unconscious. Since he hadn't made a sound while she'd cleaned the head wound, she suspected he was unconscious, but did give his arm a little shake and whisper his name in the hopes of stirring him if he was only sleeping. She needed to know exactly what had happened and if he'd seen who had attacked him.
Unfortunately, her efforts were for naught, he was definitely unconscious.
She sat back on her haunches and merely stared at him, her mind now running through the different strands of information floating about inside her head. There were now three things to consider. Her husband had been attacked tonight and dragged away. Where his attacker was dragging him to and why was unknown, but she doubted it had been for a good purpose.
And then there was the previous incident. It might have been another attempt to knock him out and drag him off as had apparently happened tonight, but it could have killed him.
But then there was the matter of his dilated eyes and drunklike symptoms tonight. He'd been drugged, she was sure of that, and suspected it wasn't the first time. Recalling all those nights that she'd thought him drunk since their marriage, she now suspected he had instead been drugged. Merry took a moment to feel guilty for thinking so poorly of the man, but then pushed that aside. She could feel her remorse and apologize to her husband for it later. Right now she needed to get to the bottom of things. She needed to figure out what he'd been given and why. There were several things she knew of that might have caused the dilated eyes, and several other things that might have had the same effect as alcohol and made him appear drunk, but there were probably a lot more that she didn't know of. It would help if she understood what the drug he'd been given had been meant to do. Obviously, it hadn't been meant to kill him, for surely after more than three weeks he would be dead from it? Yet the only symptom he'd displayed was the drunkenness. Well, that and he had been terribly randy tonight, she acknowledged.
Merry suspected that was a side effect of whatever drug or tonic he'd been given as well. It just hadn't been natural. Last night had felt completely different from their passionate moments at the waterfall and the night before in their tent. Then he'd been passionate and excited, but slow and gentle. Last night he'd been almost mad with need and had taken her repeatedly...as he had on the night before this trip, when they'd consummated their marriage. But even that night he hadn't been as desperate and almost frightening as this night. He'd been like a man possessed tonight.
But it made no sense that someone would drug her husband to make him want to bed her. And how did that tie in to these attacks when he was knocked out?
A throat clearing behind her made Merry pause and glance toward the tent flap. The sun had obviously risen, for she could make out the shadow of someone standing outside the flap, and now that she wasn't lost in her thoughts, she could hear movement and voices coming from outside. Everyone was up and probably wondering when they would set off, she realized.
Standing, she moved to the tent flap and pushed it out and up to find Gerhard standing outside.
"Oh good, I did not wish to wake you, but--Oh." He paused abruptly, the look of relief that had crossed his face when she'd first appeared switching to discomfort and even embarrassment as he glanced over her dress.
It was only then that Merry recalled that she was still wearing naught but Alex's tunic. She felt herself flush and instinctively let the flap fall back into place, hiding her. Whirling from the flap, she then rushed to her chest, shouting, "I'll be just a moment. Don't go away."
"Er...Aye, my lady." Gerhard's voice came muffled through the flap and then was followed by "Actually, I just wished to speak to Lord d'Aumesbery. Is he already up and about? He is not in the clearing. Did he perhaps go--"
"He's here," Merry interrupted as she threw open the lid of the chest and quickly dug out the first gown that came to hand.
"Here?" Gerhard asked, and she could hear the uncertainty in his voice, and knew he was wondering why her husband had not gone to the flap rather than she. Then he cleared his throat and said more loudly, "My lord? The men are all up and wondering if we should break camp. What shall I tell them?"
Merry made a face, but merely dragged off her husband's tunic and swiftly pulled a chemise on over her head. The gown she'd grabbed followed quickly and she moved back toward the flap as she tugged it into place.
"My lord? Oh." Gerhard blinked and stepped back as Merry threw the flap up again. He opened his mouth to speak again, but whatever he said died on a startled gasp when she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the tent.
"My lady, what--?" The question died in his throat as she pulled him to the bed of furs and his ey
es landed on Alex. "What in hell is going on?"
He was on his knees beside his lord at once, reaching to remove the cloth she'd covered Alex's head wound with.
"What happened?" Gerhard asked with dismay as he saw the bit of blood on the cloth. It was the only evidence there was. The new wound was barely visible through the thick strands of Alex's blond hair. "Is this from the other day? Did it open up again? What--?"
"Nay," Merry interrupted. "'Tis from last night. This morning really, I suppose. It happened only little more than an hour ago."
Gerhard turned hard eyes on her. "What did you do to him?"
"Me?" Her eyes widened with amazement, and she shook her head as she struggled with the anger that quickly followed. "I didna do this to him. Alex left the tent and I think someone hit him over the head and tried to drag him off. I stumbled upon them some distance away in the bushes and me appearance was enough to startle them off. He was semiconscious then and between the two o' us we managed to get him back here, but he blacked out soon as he hit the furs."
Much to her relief, he seemed to accept her word. At least the accusation left his expression and he relaxed, and then muttered, "Damned Scottish bandits."
When Merry started to shake her head, he suddenly flushed, and said, "Sorry, my lady. 'Tis probably English bandits. We are still close to the border."
She clucked her tongue impatiently at the apology. She hadn't been offended at the accusation of Scottish bandits and there had been no need for him to apologize. "I doona think 'tis bandits at all. Not this time and not last time."
"Last time?" he asked with surprise, and then relaxed. "Oh, you mean the boulder by the waterfall. Alex said he thought 'twas probably an accident, or possibly a bandit thinking he'd found an easy target, but he saw no one near the boulder."
Merry clucked with impatience. "Well, I did see someone up there and I am sure 'twas no accident."
"Who did you see?" Gerhard asked at once.
She scowled at the question. "I am no' sure."
"Was it a Scot or Englishmen? The clothing should have told you that much," he pointed out.
"I doona ken," she admitted unhappily. "I just caught a glimpse of a figure moving away. But I did hear a grinding sound before I saw the boulder falling toward Alex. So did he. 'Tis what saved his life. It made him look up, see the boulder coming, and try to get out of the way, else it would ha'e hit him flat on the head."
Gerhard glanced to Alex at this news and admitted, "He did not mention that to me and so I thought--"
When he cut himself off sharply, she glowered and said, "So you thought I was just a panicky female. Well, this morning's events should prove otherwise." Merry was silent for a moment and then added, "It also makes me doubt 'twas just a bandit."
Gerhard raised an eyebrow in question and she gestured to Alex.
"The man is wearing naught but his braies. There's nothing to rob him of, and why would a bandit be draggin' him off through the woods?"
The soldier glanced back to Alex, his brow knitted with concern. "If what you said is true and the first time was not an accident, either, then--"
"There is more," Merry said before he could continue.
"More?" he asked with alarm.
"Aye." Merry peered down at her husband and then admitted, "I think someone's been dosing him with something."
"Dosing him?" Gerhard squawked. "What--?"
"Surely ye noticed that he was not well most nights back at d'Aumesbery. He was clumsy and slurring his words and so on?"
"Aye. He even complained of it to me. He thought mayhap someone was dosing him then," Gerhard admitted, and added reluctantly, "At the time I suspected you."
"Me?" Merry asked with surprise.
"You did not seem overly happy with your marriage," he said apologetically, and then quickly added, "But he drank nothing two nights in a row yet had the same symptoms, and we both decided he must simply be fighting off what the men had."
"Aye, he said as much to me the night before we left on this journey," Merry said slowly, and then added, "But he hasna shown the same symptoms again until last night." She paused, considering the matter, and then added, "Though the first night he was unconscious from the falling boulder. Last night he wasna hisself at all. He was slurring and stumbling again and was like a man possessed. The man gave me no rest. He--" She cut herself off and flushed, unwilling to explain how he'd been insatiable.
Gerhard looked curious, but merely asked, "And what of the night between? The night we had rain?"
"Oh, nay, he was fine then." She waved the question away and then added dryly, "'Twas Godfrey acting the drunken fool that night."
"Little Godfrey?" Gerhard asked with dismay.
"He was ailing and Alex had him sleep in the wagon, and apparently he kept Una up all night trying to..." Merry paused again as she thought on the matter. Godfrey had attacked Una, something completely out of character. The maid had also said she'd been sure he was drunk. Was that just because he'd reeked of wine when he'd tried to kiss her, or had he been clumsy and slurring like Alex? She had commented on his being clear-eyed last night while Alex was not.
"I need to talk to Una," she said abruptly, and turned away, only to pause and peer at Alex with concern.
"I will sit with him until you return," Gerhard assured her.
Merry nodded. "I'll no' be more than a moment." She continued on to the tent flap then, flipped it up, and started to step out, only to pause abruptly to keep from crashing into her maid. "Una. I was just coming to find ye."
"And I was a-comin' to see what was takin' so long. Are we ridin' today or no'?"
"I--" Merry bit her tongue on her answer that they most assuredly were not traveling that day when she realized Godfrey was only a step behind her.
"Allan sent me to fetch Gerhard," the boy said when he noted her attention on him. "He wishes to ask him something."
"I shall let him ken," Merry assured him, noting that he was looking bashful and avoiding even casting his eyes in Una's direction. He was obviously still embarrassed by his behavior the other night. There was nothing she could do about that, so Merry merely turned and peered into the tent to Gerhard. The man had heard, however, and was rising to approach.
"I shall return as soon as I can to finish our conversation. In the meantime, I shall set two men on the tent to guard Lord Alex," he said as he slipped past her.
Merry merely nodded and then caught both Una and Godfrey by an arm and tugged them into the tent with her.
"What--?" Godfrey began, his face flushing, but he paused, his expression stricken as his gaze fell on Alex. "Is Lord Alex sick?"
Merry pulled the flap down and turned to see the lad hurrying to his lord's side, concern on his face. "Nay, he was attacked."
"Attacked?" Una echoed with dismay, moving closer to the bed of furs now herself. "By who?"
"That is what I am trying to figure out," Merry admitted, and then joined them by the bed. Her gaze slid over her husband's face, but he looked the same as he had since she'd got him here. Pale and still. She frowned at how vulnerable he appeared and then glanced to Una. "Ye said ye thought Godfrey was fou when he attacked ye in the wagon. Was it just because of the stink of wine?"
"What is fou?" Godfrey asked with confusion.
"Drunk," Merry answered, her gaze still on Una as she awaited her response.
"I was not drunk," Godfrey protested with affront. "At least I do not think I was. I had only had that half mug of wine you pressed on me, and that surely was not enough to--"
"Nay, 'twas not the stink of wine," Una answered, bringing the boy's protests to a halt. "Well, there was that, but it was mostly because he was slurring and clumsy and his eyes were all funny with the black almost takin' over the green o' his eyes." She shrugged. "I assumed he was drunk."
"I was not drunk," Godfrey snapped with irritation.
Merry ignored him for the moment and said, "Drink does not make the black of a person's eyes grow."
<
br /> "It does yer husband's eyes when he's been drinking. His eyes looked like that every night since we arrived at d'Aumesbery," Una argued, and then admitted, "Though I ne'er noticed drink affecting yer father and brothers that way."
"Lord Alex is not a drunk," Godfrey said staunchly. "He was not drinking every night these last weeks."
"Oh, bollocks!" Una snapped. "He has been slurring and clumsy every night since we arrived at d'Aumesbery. He's as much a drunk as Laird Stewart and the boys."
"He is not," Godfrey insisted, chest puffing up like a rooster about to crow. "Lord d'Aumesbery is not a drunk and you cannot make me believe he has been drunk every night for all these weeks."
"Nay, he wasna," Merry agreed quietly.
"What?" Both Una and Godfrey asked with astonishment. Merry wasn't surprised by her maid's confusion, but the squire's surprise after defending his lord so staunchly made her smile wryly. It seemed, despite his firm defense, he hadn't been at all sure of his lord. She was happy to reassure him.
"Alcohol doesna make the eyes dilate like that," she said calmly.
"Then what does?" her maid asked.
"Some herbs and tonics will do it," Merry said, and then glanced to Godfrey and said, "I need ye to tell me exactly how ye were feeling when ye attacked Una and when it started."
"Oh...er..." The boy turned as red as a ripe apple and she knew he was embarrassed but she needed him to tell her.
"I'm no tryin' to embarrass ye, but 'tis important, Godfrey," she said solemnly.
He glanced down to the ground and then shook his head. "I was just feeling poorly at first. Running hot and cold and coughing."
"Aye, 'tis why I gave ye the tonic," she reminded him.
He hesitated and then admitted almost reluctantly, "'Twas not long after that that I started feeling a bit queer."
