Chapter Three

R eina caught the wounded man before he fell, but his weight was too much for her and they both went down to the floor. He had pulled the arrow out of his shoulder before she could stop him, and now there was a gaping wound there, and she had nothing at hand to stop the flow of blood. She did not even know who he was, he was so covered with ash and smoke from tending the fire, but he did not take well to pain, promptly fainting to avoid it, and she could not leave him there to bleed to death.

“Aubert, I need a scrap of cloth, something…”

Aubert was not listening, or else he could not hear her over the continued pounding of the battering ram. The closed drawbridge had been smashed through, as well as the first of the two portcullises inside the gatehouse. The men working the ram were inside the gatehouse now and could no longer be reached with boiling water or sand, though the fires needed to be kept burning, the water dumped again when the army finally advanced.

It was time to retreat into the keep. The others who had attended the fires were slumped against the walls in exhaustion. The men-at-arms were still firing arrows when a target moved out from behind cover. The rest of the army were patiently waiting for the ram to do its work, though they too sent an occasional arrow over the battlements.

“Aubert!”

He stood right next to her, looking out over the bailey, but still he did not hear her. When this was over, whether she was taken or not, she was going to get even with Aubert Malfed for causing her nigh as much exasperation as the army below. She finally hit his leg to get his attention.

“Give me your knife—or sword.”

She had no weapons of her own, for there was no point in adding them to her armor when she had no skill for their use, and the mailed tunic she wore was heavy enough without adding the weight of a sword to it, though it weighed only fifteen pounds. William’s idea had not been to have her actually fight, but only to disguise her and protect her enough to parley from the walls if she ever had to.

This idea had come about just days ago, when he had panicked, realizing she had sent her other two household knights off on duties, leaving only him to see to the defenses. And although Reina had gone along with the idea grudgingly just to humor him, she had never thought the need would actually arise. But it had, and her disguise, much as she hated it, had worked well enough this morn. She had addressed the men below as a knight, speaking for his lady, not as the lady herself. And with her head coiffed and helmeted, they had not guessed she was a woman, the very woman they demanded be handed over to them.

Aubert’s green eyes widened now that he saw her position half under the fallen man. “My lady!”

“A knife, lackwit!” was all she shouted at him.

He handed over the dagger in his belt without thought, but Reina’s hands were so slippery with blood from holding the wound that she dropped it.

Aubert collected his scattered wits enough to retrieve the knife and hack away at the man’s tunic until he had a strip of cloth to hand her, which she stuffed inside the hole in his tunic over the wound. Aubert then had sense enough to rouse one of the other servants to help the wounded one below, but not sense enough to help her out from under him first; and annoyingly, she found she could not get out without help. Only Aubert was distracted before he accomplished anything, and Reina heard his gasp, followed by a groan, followed by another bang of the accursed ram.

“What?”

“ Jesú! Sweet Jesú! ”

“What?!”

Aubert crossed himself before stammering, “They—they are reinforced, my lady. More men are coming through the outer gate—mounted. Jesú , more than thirty mounted and more still coming on foot—and—and knights…they have knights leading them.”

Reina’s blood turned cold. Now what was she to do? Sir William was mad to think that she could handle such a crisis when she was so frightened she could barely think. If only she had not lost the outer walls, or if the enemy had done the normal thing and settled down to a long siege, there would be no problem. But de Rochefort, that bastard, that lecherous swine, he knew she was undermanned. That was probably him there now, thinking the battle would be over. And it would not last much longer, not with knights come to lead the attack. A few ladders, which could be found in the barn if they bothered to look, and the walls would be scaled in as few minutes.

And here she was stuck, pinned to the floor, her arms so tired from supporting the long mailed sleeves she wore that she could not budge the weighty back that pressed her down, could not even order retreat.

“Aubert!” She tried again. “Help me up!”

But he was still mesmerized by the scene below, still telling her what she did not want to hear. “They are still coming, seventy—eighty—doubling the number and more—Wait! Jesú! ”

“What?” And when he did not answer at once: “Curse you, rot you, Aubert! What?! ”

He looked down to give her a smile to outshine any other. “My lady, we are reinforced. We are saved!” She could hear it herself then, the clash of swords, screams aplenty, cheers from her own people spread out along the wall. Aubert continued, laughing. “They did not hear the newcomers approach, and now ’tis too late. They are scattered. Look at them run, the cowards!”

“How can I look, you dolt?” she said, though she was grinning now.

His face turned nearly as orange as his hair when he realized she was stuck. Immediately he rolled the unconscious man off her and helped her to rise. And when she saw the battle taking place below, the knights cutting down a man with each swipe of their swords, the new men-at-arms chasing the attackers across the bailey on foot, she laughed, too. There was no contest. The newcomers were routing the enemy with such ease, and so swiftly, ’twas nearly over already. Reina was so relieved she could even forgive Aubert for all his “help” this morn.

“Do you let them in as soon as it is safe, Aubert. Jesú! , I must change. I cannot receive them like this!” She made a face as she looked down at her masculine attire, a face that then pinkened with shame at the thought of being seen like this by someone other than her own castlefolk. “Make them welcome, Aubert!” she added, already heading for the ladder.

“But who are they, my lady?”

“What matters that when they have saved Clydon for me?”