Rosehaven (Medieval Song 5)

But the Healer had already turned on her heel. She raised a hand, but did not turn around.

Hastings was not laughing that afternoon as she lay in her bed, the cover pulled to her chin, staring up into the darkness. She could hear the wind howling, feel the coldness of it in her bones even though she was warm.

She missed Severin. She was afraid for him. What was happening?

Sir Alan had sent a dozen men to camp in the woods near Sedgewick to keep watch and report back if Richard de Luci did anything untoward. Another dozen men followed the route back to where Gwent and the other men had lain unconscious. The remainder were guarding Oxborough as if it were the king’s residence.

As for Eloise, she did not leave Lady Moraine. She was pale and silent, a little ghost who missed that damnable Marjorie.

Hastings turned onto her side. Severin had wanted a curve in her belly—just a slight curve to please him, he’d told her—and now she had one for him to feel. She wanted his hand pressing lightly against her.

Suddenly, the bedchamber door burst open and Lady Moraine flew into the room, shouting, “They’re back!”

33

“WHERE THE DEVIL IS GWENT?” SEVERIN ASKED AS HE strode into the great hall, Sir Alan by his side. “Alart told me he was riding into Pevensey Forest just a bit ago. Why would he leave? Where is he?”

Lady Moraine said with great composure, “He is visiting Alfred.”

“What? That is unlikely, Mother. He is terrified of that beast.”

“Very well, then, it is the Healer he visits.”

“Why? He is well, he swore it to me. Come, Hastings, my mother is jesting with me. What is going on?”

“Gwent and the Healer are in love.”

He stared at her, brought to an utter and complete silence. Then he began shaking his head. He reached inside his tunic and pulled Trist out. He began to stroke the marten’s chin. Trist mewled. Severin just stood there, staring at nothing in particular.

“What is this?” Sir Alan asked, accepting a goblet of ale from Alice.

“The Healer hates men,” Severin said finally.

“Mayhap that’s true. You should have heard her cursing Gwent. She called him names that I have never even heard you use, Severin.”

Severin shook his head, stuffed Trist back down into his tunic, and called out to his three castellans, “Everyone quench his thirst. We have a lot of talking to do before we leave in the morning.”

It was only after he had settled all the men that he came to Hastings. He pulled her against him, saying nothing, just held her, his cheek against her hair. Hastings felt Trist between them. She said against his throat, “Truly, Gwent and all the men were in the forest near to Sedgewick?”

“Aye, they were trying to decide how to come inside to rescue me. They didn’t know that I was no longer at Sedgewick. None suffered anything save watery bowels and headaches from the drug. Hastings, does Gwent really have tender feelings for the Healer?”

“I believe so. Do you believe he will live in the forest with her?”

“I still cannot believe it. Do not ask me such a question. Do we have any food left?”

She laughed, pulling back in the circle of his arms. Trist stuck his head out of Severin’s tunic and mewled at her. “It is good that we will kill de Luci soon. All MacDear can talk about is that we will starve during the winter.”

He pulled her again against him. Trist slithered out and wound himself around Severin’s neck. “Severin?” Hastings said against his chin.

“Aye?”

/>

“How will we kill de Luci?”

“I have decided to take Sedgewick. He has only twenty men at most. It should not take long with the men I have. I hope Graelam doesn’t come with me, for we will have no need for them.”

“And will you try to save Marjorie?”