Border Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “We are north of the battle site by a mile or two,” he said quietly. “There is a great wooded area to the southeast and the battle took place to the south side of those woods.”

  Diamantha was listening closely. “Did the battle spread out over a large area?” she asked. “Surely there were thousands of men.”

  Cortez glanced at the men around the table who had been at that battle with him. They all knew the horrors and triumphs of it. He’d hardly spoken of it since it had happened but now that they were in a calm setting, and Diamantha was asking for answers, he thought perhaps it was time to share the details of it and pray it didn’t throw her back into another cloud of grief. Therefore, he was careful in how he replied.

  “There were indeed thousands of men,” he told her. “Nearly six thousand Scots and fifteen thousand English, all fighting in a relatively small area south of the woods. The Scots were led by William Wallace and although some of his tactics were somewhat successful, once Edward arrived to the battle, Wallace was smashed and his forces scattered. It was an impressive and terrible day.”

  Diamantha had expected something more by way of information but Cortez seemed to be summing it up as a general happening. That was not what she wanted to hear. She wanted to know what happened.

  “Did you fight with Edward?” she asked, looking around the table. “Were you all in the king’s army?”

  The knights let Cortez handle the answer. She was his wife, after all. “I was with Edward’s army,” he replied, “and so were Robert, Drake, James, Oliver, and Andres. Keir and Michael fought with the Bishop of Durham, I believe. Is that not correct?”

  Keir nodded his head. “Our liege, Baron Coverdale, is allied with the Anthony Bek, the Bishop of Durham,” he replied. “When the call for men came, we were committed to the bishop’s army. On the day of battle, the king was late to the field while fighting had already started. Norfolk and Lincoln were already in the heat of battle but Durham was trying to hold off and wait for the king. There were some very foolish knights serving Durham and they disobeyed the man and started into the fracas. Michael and I held back with some of Durham’s troops until Edward arrived, and when he finally came, we were able to destroy the Scottish archers and beat down the pikemen. Say what you will about the king, but he is a brilliant military tactician. He overwhelmed Wallace with both manpower and skill. It was a glorious English victory.”

  The knights at the table nodded in agreement, all of them thinking on that chaotic day. Diamantha was thinking about it also, but in a different context. She was thinking on Robert and his last moments. It wasn’t such a glorious day for him. She looked at Cortez.

  “You told me that you were near Robert when he fell,” she said quietly. “When did he fall? Was it near the beginning or the end of the battle?”

  Cortez met her gaze steadily. “Towards the end,” he replied. “We were in the process of destroying groups of foot soldiers and Robert was hit by a Scottish longbow. There weren’t many Scottish archers left at that point but there was at least one because his aim took out a strong English knight. When he fell, I went to him and stayed with him as long as I could, but the fighting was moving to the west and my sword was needed.”

  Diamantha knew the rest. She simply nodded her head and looked at her lap, sadness filling her. The abject grief she had experienced those months after her husband’s death was no longer present, but she still felt great sorrow. It was a terrible way for a man so loved to die but she took comfort in the fact that they were here to finally bring him home. He would not be alone much longer. After a moment’s reflection, she took a deep breath for courage and lifted her head.

  “Will you take me to the spot?” she asked. “I would like to see it. The spot where he fell, I mean. It is important to me.”

  Cortez nodded faintly, squeezing her hand again. “If that is your wish,” he said, “but not today. Let us eat and sleep well, and then we will set out tomorrow to find the location. Is that acceptable?”

  Diamantha nodded and he lifted one of her hands to kiss it. He was pleased that she seemed in control, bravely facing what she must. To focus on the positive aspect, the recovery of Robert, seemed the best thing to do. He didn’t want to focus on what could not be helped, the death of the man.

  As Cortez sat there and watched Diamantha struggle with her sadness, the serving wench came around again with a big iron pot and a collection of wooden bowls. The bowls were placed before everyone and she began spooning out a great, hearty stew with carrots, peas, and beans, and another wench came around and put hot loaves of brown bread and bowls of butter on the table. She even brought something special for Sophie, a cup with juice from apples mixed with a bit of honey. In all, it was a tremendous feast and everyone dug in with gusto. Warm stew on a cold day was about the best thing possible.

  As the rain pounded and the lightning flashed, the Sassenach army settled in for a bit of food, rest, and relaxation, for tomorrow, the real work would begin.

  The recovery of a comrade, father, husband, and friend. Robert Edlington would no longer be one of the forgotten.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Close to dawn, Diamantha was awakened from a deep sleep by powerful arms pulling her close. She smiled, half-asleep, as Cortez pulled her against his naked body and rubbed his full erection against her buttocks. His hands began to rove, snaking up her sleeping shift and finding her soft, warm flesh beneath. As she groaned softly with pleasure, his fingers moved to her breasts, fondling them gently before moving to the fluff of dark curls between her legs. He stroked her and inserted his big fingers into her, preparing her body for his rigid manhood. Lifting up her right leg, he wedged his body between her legs and thrust into her.

  Diamantha was all wrapped up in his big arms as he made love to her, her nose and mouth against the flesh of his muscular bicep, inhaling his sensual musk with every breath. She could feel his face against the back of her head, the heat from his body enveloping her as he whispered words of lust and passion into her ear. He told her how wonderful she felt against him and how delicious her body was, in every way. His hot breath on her ear was driving her mad with desire as he repeatedly drove into her quivering flesh.

  Diamantha was so highly aroused that she climaxed quickly, biting off her gasps against his arm as Cortez released himself deep into her body. The opportunities to make love on this journey, to bond as only a man and wife can, had been extremely limited, but at this moment, they were relatively alone except for Sophie sleeping on a small bed next to them. The opportunity had been so rare that Cortez rolled Diamantha onto her back, lifted up her shift, and thrust into her again, repeatedly, before his stiff manhood died down completely. He didn’t want it to end.

  He simply loved the feel of her, nuzzling her neck and acquainting himself with her delicate female scent. Perhaps he should have felt strange about making love to her with Robert Edlington’s remains nearby, but he didn’t. Robert was dead and had no need for the woman who had become Cortez’s wife. Cortez, however, needed her a great deal. Every day saw him need her more.

  When he was finished touching and tasting her, Cortez lay back down beside Diamantha, arms wrapped around her slender body, and closed his eyes in the hope that he could doze a few more minutes before he was finally forced to rise. Diamantha, too, had closed her eyes in the hopes of a few more peaceful moments, but no sooner had they relaxed than Sophie began to weep.

  Diamantha was instantly up, straightening her shift as she hopped across the cold floor to her daughter’s bed. It was very dark in the room since the fire was reduced to a few glowing embers, and Cortez was dozing to the sounds of the soft whispers of a mother to her daughter when Diamantha was suddenly in his face.

  “Cortez,” she hissed. “Sophie is ill. I need your help.”

  The man sat bolt upright, nearly smashing Diamantha in the jaw with his sudden movement. “What do you mean she is ill?” he demanded softly, tossing off the covers and revealing his naked body to th
e room. “What is wrong?”

  Diamantha whispered at him. “She has soiled her entire bed,” she said. “Not only has she vomited, but the bed is soiled with waste. I think she may have a fever. I need warm water so I can bathe her.”

  Cortez was already putting on his breeches, banging around in the dark room until he lit a taper, which cast some light across the small room. Concerned, he went over to Sophie’s bed as he pulled on a heavy tunic.

  The little girl was sitting up as her mother gently tried to pull her soiled sleeping shift off, and he could see a big dark stain on the bed where she had soiled herself. He sighed sadly, putting a gentle hand on the child’s head.

  “I will have them bring hot water at once,” he said. “Do you need anything else?”

  Diamantha was trying not to get the mess on herself as she stripped off Sophie’s clothes. “Mayhap something to help settle her belly,” she said, tossing the soiled shift to the floor. “Bread would be good. And watered wine if they have it. My mother used to give us watered wine when we had stomach troubles and it seemed to help.”

  Cortez yanked his boots on and quit the room. The common room of the tavern was filled with his soldiers who had slept all over the room, on tables and in chairs, and they were starting to stir at this early hour. Men were snoring, farting, coughing, and mumbling as they began to wake. Cortez found MacInnis already back in the kitchen, lighting the fires to start the day, and he told the man what had happened. The tavern keeper quickly left the kitchen, crossing the muddy yard outside to a small house where he lived with his wife and their servants. He roused the entire house and soon, people were quickly moving in order to help the sick little girl.

  As MacInnis and his servants put water on to boil and began to prepare bread dough, Cortez crossed back through the common room and noticed that Oliver was already up and dressed for the day. The tall, young knight was walking among the soldiers, making sure they were waking up and when he noticed Cortez, he headed in the man’s direction.

  “Good news,” Oliver said. “The rain seems to have vanished. It is a clear and cold morning.”

  Cortez grunted, running his hand through his dark hair. “Cold enough to freeze the ground?”

  Oliver shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “None of the mud puddles outside the door are frozen. I doubt the field south of Callendar Wood will be frozen, either.”

  Cortez wriggled his eyebrows in a hopeful gesture. “We shall see,” he said. “Make sure the men eat as soon as they awaken. Where are the rest of the knights?”

  Oliver pointed in the direction of the livery. “James and Drake have gone to check on the horses,” he said. “I’ve not yet seen Keir or Michael.”

  Cortez digested the information. “We may have a small issue this morning,” he said. “It would seem that little Sophie had taken ill. Let the others know. I know my wife will not leave her and I am not entirely sure about leaving my wife if that is the case. Tell the knights I will wish to speak with them in a few minutes. Meet me back here in the common room.”

  Oliver appeared concerned. “I hope her illness is not too serious.”

  Cortez shrugged. “As do I,” he said as he turned for the traveler rooms. “I will return in a few moments.”

  Oliver went to hunt down the rest of the knights while Cortez returned to the room he shared with Diamantha and Sophie. He was deeply concerned about the child and struggling not to let it show. He didn’t want to upset Diamantha more than she already was, but a sick child scared him. Knocking on the door lightly, he let himself in.

  Sophie was standing next to her bed, naked, as Diamantha mopped up more excrement on the floor around her from Sophie’s most recent accident. Sophie was shivering and crying, as pale as the linens on the bed. It was evident that she was a very sick little girl. When Diamantha heard Cortez enter, her head popped up.

  “Where is the hot water?” she asked.

  Cortez could see that the situation was worse than when he had left it. He threw the door open and headed out.

  “I will find out,” he said. “I will hurry back.”

  He slammed the door behind him and moved quickly out to the kitchens, where he began demanding things like chamber pots and any rags they could spare. The tavern keeper thrust a wooden bucket at him to use as a chamber pot and sent a servant girl scurrying for cloth of any kind. She returned with linens for the bed, which Cortez took gratefully. He also took a second bucket filled with very warm water while the tavern keeper followed him with some food.

  Returning to the room, Diamantha had the floor cleaned up but she was very anxious to clean Sophie up, who was crying steadily. Seeing the state of the room, and that of the child, the tavern keeper went back and summoned his wife, who came to help. As Cortez stood by nervously, MacInnis’ wife stripped and cleaned Sophie’s bed, cleaned up the floor with a combination of water, ashes and mashed pine needles, which cleaned thoroughly and left behind the fragrance of the pine to help combat the odor of the vomit and feces. She was very helpful to Diamantha, helping her bathe the girl and get her into swaddling, wrapped around her waist and between her legs, to prevent her from soiling herself again. Diamantha finally put Sophie into a clean shift and wrapped her up in a soft wool blanket she had brought with them from Corfe.

  It had been quite a production and Sophie had wept steadily through it. She was miserable and unhappy, unusual for the little girl who had traveled so well for hundreds of miles. Cortez felt as badly as he possibly could as Diamantha sat on the bed and tried to coax her daughter into eating a bit of soft, warm bread.

  “Is there anything more I can do?” he asked comfortingly, sitting on the bed beside Diamantha and putting his big hand on Sophie’s head. “Anything at all?”

  Diamantha put a tiny piece of bread in her daughter’s mouth, watching the child chew miserably. “Aye, there is,” she said, looking up at him. “It is evident that I cannot go with you today to the battlefield. I must remain with Sophie. When you go, will you at least send me word about what you find and of your progress?”

  He kissed her on the temple. “Of course I will,” he said. “Is that all? Should I send for a physic?”

  Diamantha turned to look at her pale daughter. “No physic,” she said. “At least, not right now. Let us see how she does through the day and then we will decide. But if she is not better tonight, Cortez, I do not want you to stay in the room with us.”

  His brow furrowed. “Why not?”

  She looked at him with some fear in her expression. “I do not want her to make you sick as well,” she said. “She may have something catching.”

  He shrugged. “If that is the case, then I have already been exposed,” he said. “Staying away tonight will not prevent me from becoming ill if it is already destined that I should be.”

  Diamantha was struggling not to let her fear and disappointment swamp her. “God’s Bones,” she hissed angrily. “We have come all this way and now this.”

  Cortez kissed her again and stood up. “Not to worry,” he said. “I am sure she will be fine by tonight. It was probably something she ate, a bit of stew that did not agree with her. She is a healthy child and she will quickly overcome this.”

  Diamantha sighed, looking down at her sick baby. “I hope so,” she said. “We will remain here today. Mayhap she simply needs to rest.”

  She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself that the illness would quickly pass. To think of anything else would cause her to panic. Cortez glanced over at the cage stuffed with the puppy, the kittens, the fox, and the rabbit. At this hour of the morning, they were all sleeping in a big, happy, and warm pile.

  “I will make sure MacInnis brings the menagerie some food,” he said. “I believe I will also leave some men behind as protection.”

  “You will not be too far away, will you?” Diamantha put a soft hand on his arm, fearfully.

  He shook his head, patting her hand. “Nay,” he said. “If you scream, I could probably hear
you, but I believe you will be safe here.”

  Diamantha felt marginally better as she returned her focus to her daughter, who was now starting to doze off. Cortez watched the pair a moment, feeling saddened that they would not be able to join them now that they had reached their destination, but as he thought on it, maybe it was for the best. They were going digging for a corpse and he was fairly certain that Diamantha didn’t want to see what was left of her husband. True, she had come along to identify him, but there were other ways of doing that; a ring, a sword, perhaps familiar clothing. He was fairly certain she didn’t want to look at the face of a man who had been in the ground for four months.

  “I will send you word later today of our progress,” he said, kissing her on the head. “Meanwhile, you and Lady Sophie will have a restful day. That is what I prefer, anyway. You will stay here while the men do the work.”

  Diamantha didn’t have much to say to that. She seemed more focused on her child, as she should be. Cortez would finish dressing out in the common room, as he had given young Peter his mail coat to clean, so he kissed Diamantha farewell and quit the room, moving into the greater room where his men were dressed and eating their breakfast. A big day lay ahead for all of them and he was anxious to get started.

  Anxious to disturb the dead.

  *

  Cortez recognized the area immediately. Not that he had expected it to change much in four months, but the battlefield literally looked exactly the same as it did the last time he saw it.

  The Battle of Falkirk had been fought in a relatively small area, all things considered. William Wallace had hid with his men in Callendar Wood and had engaged the English to the south side of forest. There were three brooks that converged there and upon a vast meadow of gently rolling hills, the Scots and the English had clashed together most violently. The Scots were heavily outmanned by the English and their defeat, under Edward’s heavy hand, had been inevitable. As Cortez stood on the outskirts of the battlefield, he could still hear the fighting going on.