She remained awake, of course.
He cursed.
“Those animal parts I had never before considered.”
“They’re useful,” he said, then leaned close. “You know that when Gwent returns with the needle that I must stitch the wound, Hastings. Is there anything I can do so the pain will not be so bad?”
“Rub some of the delphinium root over it. It will help deaden it.”
He called to Carlic, who immediately was at his side, the long slender root held out in his hand. “Just rub it on her as it is?”
“Clean it first in the stream, then hold it close to the fire. It will warm the root and soften its flesh.”
Severin rubbed it lightly over the skin around the wound. Then he drew in his breath and rubbed it directly into the tear.
He gave her more of the potion to drink. An hour later Gwent returned with a roll of clean white linen, a skin filled with rich ale, and needles.
“I am sorry, Hastings. I could get only black thread.”
She laughed and moaned at the same time.
“Get it done,” she said to Severin, and turned her head away from him.
“If you would faint, Hastings, I would be pleased.”
But she didn’t. He rubbed the delphinium root on the wound again.
To his relief, she barely jerked when he sank the needle into her flesh. He continued quickly. It did not take long. When he was done, he poured hot ale over the wound, then patted her dry. He made a thick pad of the white linen and pressed it against her. He tied the rest of it around her belly.
He looked at her belly. She was flat.
“When will the babe make you round?”
“By the fall,” she said. “Thank you, Severin.”
He did not sleep for a very long time. He sat cross-legged, watching the fire burn itself into embers. His men all slept, many of them snoring as loud as Edgar the wolfhound. His wife was with child. He still could not quite grasp it.
She moaned, turning onto her side.
He gently pressed her again onto her back. Her eyes opened. She raised her hand, lightly touching her fingertips to his jaw.
“I don’t know what to do, Severin. I had not meant to stab myself with the knife. I do not think I am able to run from you now.”
“I hope you will not want to run from me ever again.”
She could only stare at him. “Marjorie will not continue to be your mistress, Severin. She wants my place.”
“She is not my mistress.”
Hastings closed her eyes and turned her head away from him.
24
“YOU HAVE LOVED ME SINCE I WAS TWELVE YEARS OLD.”
“Aye, I loved you with a boy’s unformed passion.”
“Your passion was not unformed when you took my virginity.”