"We are victorious!" Ulric shouted, throwing his arms up. Cheers erupted from those who had gathered in the bailey to see the homecoming. Ulric directed his attention to his children. "The war is over, my children," he said in a softer voice. "All thanks to Cynric. But, I shall tell you the details later. For now, there are wounded to tend to, and men to feed." He kissed Brida and Edmund's brows. "Come now, I've missed you both dearly. Tell me what has happened whilst we've been away."
"I should like to tend to the wounded, Father," Brida said, ducking under and away from Ulric's arm. "You know I have no stomach for talk of war, and that's all Edmund wishes to hear."
Ulric sighed and looked back at his army. "Very well. An extra pair of skilled hands will go far. But be mindful, Brida, and be sure you're in time for the evening meal tonight."
"I will, Father," Brida replied. Ulric nodded and walked towards the keep with Edmund at his side. Eldric paused, holding his helmet under his arm, and leaned into give Brida a one armed hug.
"The sorcerer is in a bad way," he said, just for her to hear. "You'll not believe what I saw, Brida. He was a man, and then he was not. I never thought such a thing possible. He won us this battle, this war, make no mistake of that. You must save his life. We owe him that much and more."
"I will do all I can," Brida replied.
"I know you will," Eldric said. He kissed her brow, just where their father had, and followed Ulric and Edmund inside.
Brida rolled up the sleeves of her dress as best she could and weaved through the ranks of rancid, tired men to where the wounded were being taken into the hospital tent. The others Brida had asked to help had already gathered, and were separating the men into three groups: those who could be left for last, those who would need immediate care, and those who were lost causes. Brida was horrified to see that Cynric was in the last group, his torso almost completely covered in blood-stained bandages. She nudged others aside in her attempt to get to him.
"Ought not waste time with this one, m'lady," one of the soldiers said. "Smells like an infection, and he's feverish as well. Best you can do is make him comfortable as you can and say a prayer for his soul."
"I'll be the judge of that," Brida said and gently pushed the man aside. Cynric's skin was pale, almost white, and sickeningly clammy, yet hot to the touch. He didn't move at all when she began to peel back the bandages to inspect the wound, but the stink of it nearly made her sick. Infected indeed, it looked like he hadn't been tended to at all on the journey, just bandaged up to keep him from bleeding all over everything and left to die.
Brida grabbed the elbow of a passing servant. "I need clean water and rags and strong alcohol, and honey, if we have it."
"Yes, m'lady," the girl said without hesitation and ran off to bring Brida what she needed. She turned back to Cynric's unmoving form and stroked his dark hair back from his brow.
"You saved so many lives," she said, "of hardworking, honest men. It's only fair that I do my best to save you as well, no matter what kind of man you are. I can't imagine what kind of fate would have awaited me otherwise." She sighed and finished unwrapping the bandages. "All you wanted was to be left alone, and my brother dragged you from your home and forced you into a war you had no part in."
There were punctures from arrows in his side. At least someone had removed the heads, though they'd not done a good job of it, and they had barely missed his lungs. The worst injury was a long gash that ran down his chest. Brida couldn't imagine what it had been caused by.
The servant returned shortly. "Thank you," Brida said. "Help me wash him." The girl looked like she would rather do anything else, but she obediently knelt beside Brida and soaked one of the rags in the water. With the worst of the blood and dirt washed away it was easier for Brida to see the extent of Cynric's wounds. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. There were men missing legs who had been given more care than Cynric had, and Brida knew the reason why. The men feared what they didn't understand, and they had seen Cynric turn into a dragon before their very eyes, or so Ulric would have it told.
She went through another bowl of water before Cynric's body was completely clean. She prayed to God that there was no internal bleeding. If his body was unable to heal itself, then there would be nothing she could do for him. Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she asked for a needle and a string of gut to sew up the deepest of the wounds. It was just like doing needlework, she told herself. It wasn't the first time she had sewed up flesh instead of fabric.
Cynric didn't move an inch as she painstakingly closed up his wounds. If the stitches held the wounds would heal fine. They were clean, at least, with no ragged edges. She wiped sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. She had honey, at least, and that was enough to make a poultice to smear over the stitches. Clean bandaging was brought to her shortly as well, and with the help of the girl beside her they wrangled Cynric around until the linens were snugly wrapped around his chest. Brida plumped the pillow before letting his head fall back down onto it and drew a blanket up over his chest. His breathing was weak, but even.
"I don't think there's much else we can do, m'lady," the girl said.
"Yes, thank you," Brida said. "There are others to tend to as well. He simply needs rest."
"This way, m'lady."
With a last look at Cynric, Brida rose to follow, and for the next hour went from bed to bed, doing what she could to help those who had been the most grievously wounded. Every so often she raised her head and looked back at Cynric, hoping to see that he had moved or opened his eyes, but he was exactly the same way she had left him. Eventually there was naught left to do, at least nothing that couldn't be handled by others, and Brida excused herself to wash and change for dinner. Despite what she had told her father, she was very interested to know exactly what had happened up in the north.
*****
The water was tinged red when she was done washing her hands and face. She felt as though she had the stench of death and disease around her, and didn't feel better until she rubbed dried herbs at her wrists and her neck and changed into a finer dress, with Judith's help. Her maid neatly twisted her hair up on top of her head and then she was ready. It was good to see her family together and well, despite the cut on Eldric's head and the weariness in her father's face. Once the food was served the minstrel in the corner began to play, filling the silence until Edmund cleared his throat and looked at their father with bright eyes.
"So, what happened?" he asked. "You spoke of a dragon in your letter. Is that true?"
Ulric glanced up at the men guarding standing by the doors and sent them out with a flick of his hand. "What I am to tell you now is not to leave this room," he said in a low voice as the doors shut behind the soldiers. "Is that understood?"
"Yes, Father," Brida said, as did her brothers.
"Alfred said that man was a sorcerer, but he is something far more terrible. With my own two eyes I witnessed him change from man to beast and breathe fire across the enemy. He tore them li-" Ulric caught himself, his gaze falling on Brida. "It was utter destruction," he said. "Complete and total. I do not know what that man is, but he is something far worse than a sorcerer."
"How did he come by his injuries, Father?" Brida asked before Edmund could say whatever it was on his mind. "If he turned into such a powerful mythological creature, what possible weapons could we possess that would harm him?"
"Even a well-placed arrow can bring down the mightiest beast," Ulric said. "It was not my doing, but the only reason he is here instead of dead on that field is because I gave him my word that he would be returned to his home once the battle was won."
Brida looked away and let her brother carry the conversation. Her father's voice alone conveyed his thoughts about Cynric; a monster who was only alive by Ulric's own good grace. Brida suddenly had little appetite for the meal on her plate. She pushed it away and excused herself quietly. The conversation barely faltered and she left the room with no fight from her father.
She made her way back to the hospital tent, where she knew she could do some good, and hopefully not face any judgment from the nurses for her unspoken opinions on Cynric.
He was still sleeping when she checked on him, but his color was better and there was no fresh blood on the bandages. He was still feverish, though. Brida fetched herself a bowl of water and one of the few remaining clean rags and soaked it through, pressing the cool compress to Cynric's skin.
"I apologize for what happened to you," she said, "and all to save the lands of a man who would have rather left you to die. But I am thankful, more than you know, no matter what manner of man you are, whether you are beast or not. I know I owe you my life, and that of my father and my brothers, whom I cherish more than anything in this world."
"You... needn't be sorry..." Brida pulled the compress away. Cynric gazed up at her with half-lidded, bleary eyes. "I assume you know... the truth of my nature, then."
"What nature?" Brida asked. "You said you have magic and that is what you used, is it not?"
Cynric managed to cock his head, just slightly. Brida busied herself soaking the rag with fresh water before dabbing it against his brow once more.
"I know little of you, but you are a singular woman. You do not judge, not like the others."
"You did as you were asked and it may yet cost you your life," Brida replied. "How could I judge you for that?"
"So you do not think me a monster?"
"Dragons may be frightening, but I've always been told they're great protectors as well. God placed you on this earth just as he did my brothers and I, and everyone else in this land. A man touched by Satan wouldn't have done what you did."
Cynric reached up and gently wrapped his fingers around Brida's wrist, turning his face into the edge of her palm where her skin was bare. His skin was warm, but surprisingly soft, his jaw free of even fine stubble.
Brida's throat tightened. "These wounds," she said, "will they heal?"
"I am made of far sterner stuff than most men," Cynric replied. He let his hand fall, but not before his thumb stoked across the sensitive skin on the inside of Brida's wrist, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "It will take more than a handful of arrows and a well-placed blow from a sword to end me."
"Will you go home when you've healed?" Brida asked.
"I will go home once your father pays me what he owes."
"What did he promise you?" Brida asked.
"An exorbitant amount," Cynric said and sighed softly. "One I'm unsure he'll be able to pay."
"I'm sure my father will do his best."
"I will either be paid in coin or something else," he said with a pointed look in her direction. She swallowed hard. "Would that be an unattractive prospect to you?" Cynric asked.
Brida licked dry lips. "Only because I know so little about you. You're as much as a stranger to me as you were on the day you first came here."
"On the contrary," Cynric replied, "you know my greatest secret, and shared willingly. The other men can be convinced it was magic, but in truth my abilities are something different. Perhaps I am touched by the devil." He chuckled dryly then winced and pressed a hand to his chest. "Ah-no matter how fast it heals it still smarts. Thank you for tending to me."
"Of course," Brida said. "It's the least I can do."
"We would have a lifetime to know each other," Cynric said a moment later. "If things were to take that route. Is it still so unappealing?"
"I never said it was to start," Brida said softly. She hoped the blush on her face wasn't terribly noticeable.
"I'm glad to hear it," Cynric said. He shifted on his pallet. "Though I think your father will be less than pleased."
"He will realize that things could have been far worse," Brida said. "He's a sensible man, but he fears what he doesn't understand. Most men do."
"If it were a simpler thing to understand I would make an attempt to explain it to him. Still, in a few days’ time I will be well, and once I have the payment agreed upon, or a suitable replacement, then I will return to my home."
"Where do you live?" Brida asked. "Not in a cave, I hope."
"No," Cynric replied, amusement tinging his voice. "A cottage, secreted away, though clearly not well enough if a mere captain could so easily find me."
"Alfred's a very talented man," Brida replied.
"I'll not argue that."
"I have another question," Brida said carefully. She continued when Cynric hummed. "If Father doesn't have the money to give you and you decide to take a different form of compensation, would you remain here?"
He rolled his head to fully look at her. "If it would make you happiest," he replied. "It would be bad enough to make you marry a stranger, but even worse to take you from your home."
"Why do you wish to marry at all?" Brida asked.
"Why any man does," Cynric replied. "I am a man, despite whatever 'powers' I may possess."
"I bet you looked magnificent," Brida said before she could stop herself. She was rewarded with a grin from Cynric that made her stomach squirm as though someone had released butterflies into it.
"You're not afraid," he said. "Why is that?"
"Dragons in stories are always beasts of great wisdom," Brida replied, "with scales as golden as any coin, who could make the sun jealous with their beauty."
"They're frightening as well," Cynric said. "I'm glad you do not fear me."
"I am as well." Brida cleared her throat. "Now, if you'll help as much as you can, I need to clean and check your wounds for any infection."
"They're fine," Cynric said. "Infection isn't something I'm prone to."
"Are you a healer?" Brida asked.
"Are you?" Cynric replied.
She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by her brother Eldric's voice from a few feet away.
"Father wishes to speak to you," he said.
Brida turned to face him in time to catch the wary look he threw at Cynric, but was surprised and pleased to see there was only curiosity in his eyes.
"Very well," she said, then turned back to Cynric. "I'll return tomorrow."
"I'll watch him sister," Eldric said. "I'm very curious about our guest."
"Be kind," Brida said warningly as she passed.
Eldric chuckled. "Am I ever anything but?" he asked and took her place.
As Brida removed herself from the tent she heard Eldric quietly ask Cynric how he was feeling, and Cynric's easy reply. The pleasant fluttering in her stomach turned to a heavy weight as she thought on what her father could want from her. She had a feeling she already knew the answer. War was never cheap, and it had been a long time since Ulric had seen peace.
A soldier directed Brida to a small study on the ground floor where Ulric did work when he wished to be left in peace. Brida closed the door gently behind her and took a seat across the large oak desk. Ulric had a small smile for his daughter that failed to hide his exhaustion. He poured her a cup of wine.
"I know what you're going to say," Brida said.
"Do you?" Ulric replied. "Enlighten me, then."
"You don't have the money to give Cynric the price you promised."
"No, I do not."
"And you're going to offer him me instead."
"I am," Ulric said. "Does that upset you?"
"It should," Brida said, "but you and Eldric and Edmund have already done so much for our family. It's my turn now."
"It needn't be anything extravagant," Ulric continued. "A simple blessing by the priest and you will be given the room in the tower, properly furnished this time."
"As you say, Father," Brida replied. "I only ask that you allow Cynric time to heal."
Ulric nodded slowly and sighed. "I know not what kind of man he is, but your brother persuaded me that he is to be trusted, and he did offer us his aid when he could have easily refused. He is owed what I promised." He reached across the desk and Brida placed one of her hands in his. "I'm so glad you understand the importance of this."
; "I do, Father," she said. "Is that all you wish to speak to me of?"
"Yes," Ulric said. He leaned back in his chair. "Yes. Go, you should rest. You have spent a long day tending to our men. Cynric will be fine with your brother watching him."
Brida left her wine untouched and stopped to kiss her father's cheek before taking his suggestion and retiring to her room for the night. She tossed and turned, thinking on what was to become of her life, and before she slept came to the conclusion that Cynric had the ability to make her a very happy wife indeed, and help her give her father many strong grandchildren to dote upon.
*****
In a few days’ time Cynric was well enough to stand with the help of a cane similar to the one that Edmund still needed to use. It was amazing that he could sit, let alone do anything else, but aside from some stiffness in his movement he seemed perfectly fine. His fever was gone and color was back in his face, his hair dark and sleek and his eyes bright and sharp. He was slowly pacing the field outside the hospital tent when Brida came to find him.
"Have you heard?" she said by way of greeting.
"I have," Cynric replied. "It's to be this afternoon." He smiled. "And here I am without proper clothes."
“I don't have a dress,” Brida replied. “Or a dowry. Only myself.”
Cynric smiled at her. “Something tells me that's enough.”
“I'm glad to see you walking,” Brida said.
“I told you I would heal quickly. Don't be afraid, you will not have an invalid for a husband.” He laughed shortly. “Is that thought as strange to you as it is to me?”
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