Don't Forget to Dream (34 page)

“
It is a little tender,
”
Martin conceded.

“
A little?
”

“
That was the deepest part, where the tip went in,
”
he informed her as if this were a casual conversation.

“
I see,
”
Rhyla replied looking back at the wound again.
“
The stitches here are straining, starting to tear the skin as it swells. I shall have Master Roburt take a look but I think they need to be removed before it turns bad.
”

“
I am but a humble soldier my lady. I am at your mercy in these matters.
”

“
And I am but a simple servant helping as she can,
”
she replied a little more harshly than she intended.

The cheeky grin that had been forming faded from Martin
’
s lips.
“
I didn
’
t mean to offend,
”
he apologised quickly.

Rhyla stood.
“
And I took no offence, just a correction. I am still the
farmer
’
s
orphan that you first met at the Laughing Willow. I shall see if Master Roburt is free.
”
She strode from the room before he could speak further.

A brief search of the barracks found the Master Healer tending to a young man in one of the private rooms. Rhyla observed quietly from just inside the doorway, listening carefully and watching everything the Master did. The lad
’
s
wounds were no doubt life threatening for him to be under the personal care of Master Roburt away from the other men. She hoped she would be able to question the Master at some future point, always keen to learn.

As Master Roburt cleaned his hands from a deep wooden bucket Rhyla strode to his side.
“
Excuse me Master.
”

“
Yes Rhyla, what can I do for you?
”

“
It is Captain Martin. I think the end of one of his wounds is turning foul. I was thinking of removing the stitches but wanted your opinion
first
and perhaps one of your salves,
”
she said trying to be as concise as possible with such a busy man.

“
The Captain is it? Well I shall come straight up,
”
he replied indicating his assistant to follow them.

Rhyla led them upstairs but paused briefly at the door as she heard two voices within. Her heart missed a beat before she realised the second man was Master Thomas. She continued into the room and smiled warmly at the master at arms. The large grey headed man had in many ways become th
e old uncle she had never had, a
lways there in the background, never judging or commenting on her, unless it was regarding her skill with the blade of course.

He looked up from his son and stood as she entered,
“
Rhyla. What a pleasant surprise. Martin was just telling me how you are tending him.
”
Rhyla noted the tray of food on the stool beside th
e bed, its contents nearly gone.
Her
stomach grumbled slightly at the remi
nder that it was now well past
noon.

“
I do what I can Master Thomas. I fear my knowledge is limited but Master Roburt has agreed to take a second look for me,
”
she said modestly stepping out of the way for the healer to enter.

The two old masters greeted each other as long term friends before Master Roburt set to examining the wound on Martin
’
s side. He did not take long in his assessment.

“
I agree with you Rhyla. This wound may be brewing something at this end and those stitches are doing it no favours. Remove them, clean the wound out thoroughly and redress it with this salve,
”
he said taking his satchel from his assistant and removing a small clay pot.

“
Thank you Master,
”
Rhyla said accepting the little pot.
“
I shall do just as you say.
”

Master Roburt excused himself to see to the other patients.

“
I should leave you to your work as well, Rhyla,
”
Master Thomas said stepping around the foot of the bed.

“
Oh please Master Thomas, you needn
’
t go on my account. This shouldn
’
t take long and I know how you two must want to catch up,
”
she said suddenly fearful that she may be left alone with Martin again and the chance that Callum may appear.

“
Only if you are sure
,
Rhyla.
I don
’
t want to get in your way.
”

“
No of course you won
’
t be. I shall just fetch the hot water and towels I
’
ll need.
”
Rhyla excused herself once again and quickly retrieved what she needed from the supplies and cauldron of hot water
from
downstairs. Master Thomas had seated himself on the stool and placed the empty tray on the floor by the door when she returned.

Removing the small scissors she used for sewing
,
from her bag
,
Rhyla snipped the offending s
titches and gently removed them.
They
pulled a little and she knew they mus
t have caused him some pain, but
Martin looked ahead stoically refusing to flinch or comment in front of his father. Cleaning
the wound as gently as she could Rhyla was relieved to see that there was no pus building beneath the skin. She dried the area, applied a little of Master Roburt
’
s salve and wrapped a bandage around his torso to secure the clean wad of dressing over the wound.

“
That should do you for today, I shall come and check on you again tomorrow Martin,
”
she said as she tidied her things away.

“
Thank you Rhyla, it feels a little more comfortable already,
”
Martin said gratefully.

“
You still need to stay in bed, plus eat and drink a decent amount. You can
’
t heal these wounds or restore your blood if you don
’
t,
”
she firmly reminded him before he began to form notions of getting up as she left the room.
“
This wound will take a good week or two before you can do more than walk to the hall for dinner.
”

“
So I can go to the hall this evening,
”
he said hopefully.

Rhyla shied and glanced at his father briefly.
“
Only if you are accompanied the entire way there and back.
You can only have water to drink...
”
she continued but the look of horror on his face reminded her that he was indeed the captain of the guard and she was being perhaps a little harsh.
“
All right
,
a little watered wine, well watered,
”
she conceded. From Martin
’
s other side she caught the wry smile an
d gentle nod from Master Thomas.
At
least she could depend on him to keep his son in line.

“
Thank you Rhyla,
”
Martin said obviously relieved.

“
Then perhaps I shall see you both tonight,
”
she said before she left the room.

Leaving her satchel near the
healer
’
s
supplies she silently made her way across the courtyard to the Palace and through the bustling halls to the kitchens to once again beg an untimely meal from the cook.

Chapter 13

The warm haze filtered through the tall narrow windows, the shafts of light illuminating the densely packed Royal Hall. Prince Callum sat to his father
’
s left wit
h Master Smythe on his far side.
Guardsmen
lined the room. Prince Edwin
sat to their father
’
s right with h
igh priest Dimont beyond him. On
either side of the hall benches were filled with the nobility of the land. Lord's Hough, Palmer and Gale occupied the front benches as their estates had been the most affected by the bandits. Lord Tobias Black sat alongside his father and brother amongst the nobility often in residence in the city or from nearby estates.

Wedged between the nobility, facing King Liam was currently a young muscular man with long unwashed brown hair that hung around his face. His head drooped forward
and his broad shoulders slumped.
He
had the build of a fighting man. As he knelt upon the floor, his hands tightly tied behind his back, the fight Callum had first seen in him was now crushed by the reality of defeat, capture and the impending sentencin
g for his crimes. Tam, as he had
given his name, was only the latest of their prisoners to be brought before the Royal Court.

The day following their triumphant return to Lestran the princes had sat in long hours of discussion with their father and his advisors, detailing the events of their campaign. Then the questioning began. Every captive was individually brought forward, identified and given the opportunity to admit and repent their crimes. Some talked, others refused, but slowly they obtained a clearer understanding of the hierarchy within the bandits. Some of the leaders had been killed in the fighting but several had been detained, most attempting to hide among the common strong-arms until enough talk
had ultimately
revealed the
ir positions.

The days had been long and hot within the crowded confines of King Liam's Royal Hall. The room was functional, simply decorated with a few tapestries and the banners of the Golden Stallion. It was a room of business
in contrast to the daily life and frivolity of the Great Hall. As Callum looked silently upon Tam
,
he struggled to concentrate on the events before him. The same scene had been played out before him at least a dozen times already and there were many more men
still
to
receive their final sentence.

In the five days since his return
,
Callum had not had a single opportunity to speak to Rhyla again, not even in public, let alone in private as he had so often dreamt of in the
ir
long weeks apart. She had been heavily occupied with caring for
the wounded men or was in
the women
’
s hall in the evenings
while the
members of the royal family
were locked away dealing with their own concerns
. Conversation with his Grandmother at dinner revealed the detail of the even
t
s on the Black Swan Estates and her day to day work. Lady Emelia was clearly proud of Rhyla
’
s work and praised her constantly. W
as she making conversation for his benefit or
was
it
simply a matter of admiration for her young cha
rge,
Callum was not entirely sure. He was both troubled by the thought of his grandmother knowing the hidde
n truth of his affections as well as relief that his Grandmother
supported his belief in this simple farm girl.

But it was not just the inability to see Rhyla in private that had him troubled. In the few months that he had known her Callum had always been able to look at her, to glance across a crowded room and know their eyes would meet. Now, on the few occasions he had seen her, he was certain she had hastily looked away or ducked down a hallway. At first he thought he had been imagining those missed moments, a simple coincidence that h
er attention was drawing away from
him. On
the previous evening he had purposefully crossed the Great Hall on th
e premise of speaking to Martin.
Rhyla was seated directly across the hall. Although she faced him with no more than a dozen feet between them she kept her eyes firmly down at her plate and spoke only to those seated beside her.

The contrast between her behaviour and the tender concern when she thought him injured was truly baffling. The strength of raw emotion she had been unable to hide as he gazed into her troubled ey
es was the passion he needed
to see
him
through the lonely nights camped with his men. But now she refused even to look at him. Could she really be turning him aside? But
wasn
’
t
that what needed to happen?
He
knew
in his heart it
was the only fair cours
e their relationship could take.
There was no change to their circumstance
since their separation and there never c
ould be. For all the burning desire that ate away inside him he was adamant she deserved more than to be his mistress. So why was it so hard to face the fact that she had the strength that he
simply
could not attain?