Chapter 1
1311
Eric sat upon his great war horse, Namune (nya-moon), and looked down onto
the battle field where he would finally quiet the pain Audrey Macvigh had
caused him to suffer for fours years now. He remembered the brilliant smile
his wife, Jennie, had given him during the feast that celebrated their
child to be born. But she had looked to him for help later that night, yet
he could do nothing as she was ravaged, body and soul. He was deep in
thought when John Maverick, his second in command, rode up beside him.
"Should we have the men ready their positions?" John asked, looking down at
the battlefield, but seeing nothing that would attract Eric's stare as
something held it now. "The men and horses alike are getting anxious."
"Not just yet. But have the men be ready for my signal; I want to see what
Audrey may be planning. We may have just enough time to magnify our
strategy and better his," Eric replied, then added, "Have the archers
successfully penetrated the back walls of Arlington Hall"(Audrey's
stronghold("and taken position for their attack?"
John nodded.
"Have a group of men moved to flank Audrey's army and enclose him on both
sides?"
When John again nodded and Eric saw Audrey's men begin to set themselves,
he motioned for John to ready the men and then gave the silent order to
charge, using the element of surprise. As Eric's first wing of men bore
down on Audrey's from the frontal position, the confused warriors began
retreating in small numbers, hoping to spread out Eric's men. Yet they only
slowed their horses' gaits and cut men down, being careful to save the
enemies' mounts.
While the first group of men charged and began to fight, the groups from
the sides enclosed Audrey's dwindling company, forming them into a smaller
and smaller half circle. Then, as quickly as Eric's men had charged, they
began backing away, but still keeping a circle around the enemy until the
unhorsed men were as slow moving targets, perfect for the hidden archers.
And as the first wing of Eric's warriors turned to gallop back to the hill
and the other wings moved to close up the hole left, a rain of arrows
befell Audrey and his remaining fighting men. Because where the battle
raged was so close to Arlington Hall, and to Eric's fine archers, no one
but the enemy was ever hit. And even when Audrey, miraculously still alive,
sounded the retreat but not the surrender, more of Eric's men awaited them,
hidden within the thin line of forest that grew ahead of the riverbank.
Eric wasted no time when the surrender was finally sounded with less than
ten of the starting hundreds of Audrey's army left.
Audrey wasn't dead but had suffered greatly and the fallen needed to be
separated and given a Christian burial, but first, Eric needed to speak
with the head of the household to make preparations for the many rooms
needed to house his weary men. He kicked Namune in his flanks and urged him
into a loping gallop; he headed for Arlington Hall.
When he reached the drawbridge, he found it lay open, spanning widely
across the clear watered mote. Apparently the water circulated from an
upper part of the river, around the walls, and back into the river. He
wondered who had thought of this ingenious idea, but his thoughts were
interrupted as men strangely applauded at their master's defeat.
"Excuse me sir, but could you tell me why everyone seems so happy at their
army's defeat?" Eric asked as he came upon an old man who wandered in the
vague direction of the stairway.
"Though our loved ones have been slaughtered, you have redeemed yourself by
ridding us of that demon of a Lord. As you can plainly see around you, this
fortress has fallen into much disrepair, because our former Lord squandered
his many riches on foolish delights of selfishness," the old man finally
finished, a little out of breath.
Eric motioned that the man could leave, gave his thanks and gratitude for
the enlightenment, and rode on at a steady walk, already planning ahead to
the work badly needing to be done. He also looked for someone with which to
arrange accommodations for his many warriors.
"Christian! Matthew! It's time to come inside!" Anese hollered in the general direction the two boys usually played. Today peace could be had, for Audrey Macvigh was probably dead, and Arlington Hall in the hands of the famed Eric de Vahn. Anese had thought of him as an older man with a once-was-strong look to him. At least that's what his legacy made it look as. His many deeds made it seem as though he had spent a lifetime fighting for Scotland and her bearings, but when he rode in through the gates of Arlington Hall, Anese had widened her eyes at his giant-like magnitude. He had stopped riding long enough to speak with Old Man Bluthe, and in that amount of time Anese had noticed he had even broader shoulders than she had at first seen. He had a wild mane of black hair that fell over his face much of the time and evidently dark eyes. His skin was a light tan, but she suspected that was from being in the sun for so long, although Anese wondered if he often worked shirtless. For his neck did not seem to have a tan line. Eric had been wearing no armor at all, obviously having fought in a mere midnight blue tunic and doeskin breeches. He'd carried no helm, so it was either that, or he had already deprived himself of the heavy weighted padding and guarding. But Anese was quickly diverted from her thoughts as Christian and Matthew came bounding into the kitchen of the cottage. "Momma, what's for dinner?" Matthew quietly asked. "Can we have some?" Christian piped in. "Not as yet, but when the apple pie is finished cooking, I'll call you both in for a corner bite. Now go wash up and set the table," Anese said softly, sending the two rambunctious boys off with a scoot. She could hear them toying with the idea of not washing themselves, then thought better of it and hurried along. Anese shook her head at the two. She loved them dearly, with all her heart. She only wished she could give them what they really needed, a father. Many in the village believed she had been pregnant with the twins and had hidden them for fear of humiliation for out of wedlock children, but she was sure the boys were not bastards, and they surely weren't her own in blood. She found them, she had told many of the suspicious villagers, but only Reva and Old Man Bluthe had believed her. Anese could remember the day when she had taken them into her home. It had been a cold night, perfect for morning herb gathering. She was walking when she'd heard a rustling movement of soft moss. When Anese looked around a giant tree, she'd found two small boys huddled together for warmth. She had searched for any signs their parents were around, but the area was completely deserted, so, being the kind-hearted woman she was, Anese had taken the two in and eventually learned their names. They had told her they were three, but didn't remember much of what happened as to how they'd gotten there. She had been caring for the two for a little over four years. Anese shook herself from her memories so as she could check the apple pie she had been making. Apples were a rare treat and she had used up her last stores of flour to create this delicacy for the boys and herself. Flour was only distributed out on a monthly basis, and Anese was lucky that this month was only days from being over; it was the twenty-eighth if she was correct. But she had no desire to be right, as her monthly time was late a day and she loathed the bleeding. From the adjoining dining room Anese knew that the twins had begun setting the table, because she could hear the clatter of wooden plates and cups being heavily set upon the table. Matthew and Christian had carved all the utensils except the knives and forks after watching the carpenter, Jack, who lived and worked in a small shop near the gate. This was somewhat of a long walk for the two boys; for one, Anese's cottage was along the farthest wall of Arlington Hall, and two, the boys were only seven, having small legs to match their age. Anese couldn't understand, though, why they were both so small for their age; they were well built and not scrawny like most, hardy she often thought, but very short. Their height often brought additional leverage to the rumors that she was deflowered and indeed the mother of Christian and Matthew, as she was short but well shaped. She had not so thin a waist that her ribs were shown, but neither was she fat or even overweight in the least, Old Man Bluthe doubted she had an inch of fat on her entire body. Anese had always had trouble keeping weight on. She also had ebony hair, as did her adopted sons, and a dark complexion, although her skin was much darker than that of the boys'. Yet though she had dark hair and skin, oddly enough she had brilliantly blue eyes that shown like a light blue ice. Anese had been taken from her family and sold into brief slavery when she was eleven, but she had lived in a village in Spain where light colored eyes are not native. She could not ever remember her father being at home for more than a couple of days at a time, as he was a sailor, but he had fairly light eyes, yet they were grey, not blue. "Come help me get the food boys," Anese said as a quarrel began. She picked up two clothes she had double knitted for protection against an oven's heat, and pulled the pie from the oven that also was their heater during the freezing nights. Even though the summers were sometimes hot and even blistering, the winters could be just as harsh. Christian and Matthew ran into the kitchen and immediately carried the small hen into the center of the table, one taking one side and vice versa, and then returned for the even smaller platter of different vegetables Anese had gathered fresh that afternoon; when she had gathered them she could hear the battle that raged. It had only lasted a few hours, but the fighting men had been out gathering the dead since before ten. Father Thomas would be very busy in the coming days. Matthew and Christian sat down in their chairs with a plop and folded their hands, awaiting Anese to start the evening prayer. Anese had taught them the Christian ways, even if they hadn't been Christian at birth, but she kept this to herself. "We humbly serve you, Father, and yet you give us so much even as we disobey. We ask you to help us to better ourselves and that you bless the food you have granted to us to eat and that you forgive us of our sins to which we will try not to commit again. We also ask that you guide us and bless our lives as we hope to bless yours." When Anese had finished, she nodded to the twins and allowed them to fill their plates with vegetables. Matthew went for the peeled celery and carrots, Christian for the cherry and grape tomatoes and cut pieces of potatoes. "Now, don't you think that you're going to get away with just eating what you like, take one piece of any vegetable that you didn't get and eat it. Right here in front of me, now. You two aren't going to get out of it," Anese added when she saw the boys just staring at the pieces in their hands. They quickly gobbled up the disliked food and washed it down with a miniature gulp of the fresh milk Anese had brought in. She set to work cutting the hen with the sharp metal knife Jack had given her as a birthday present, grinning at the boys' only weakness, their ally and enemy, food. "Momma, what does humble mean?" Christian asked. Anese could barely understand what he'd said as his mouth was full of hen meat. "Slow down Christ(" Anese was suddenly interrupted at the sound of a bang on the sturdy door. At least the person had the decency to knock even though it stood wide open. "I'll be right back. You two stay here and finish eating your dinners." She gave them one last look before hurrying off through the kitchen and to the door. Hardly any light showed through the doorway. A large man Anese immediately recognized as Eric de Vahn stood in front of her, his cold demeanor evident in his icy gaze. "How can I help you?" Anese said cheerfully, and for a moment he seemed to soften. Usually women cowered from him and would not meet his gaze, but not this one. The moment was fleeting, although he continued to contemplate her boldness. "I am told you have a gift for healing and(" Eric cut himself short as he saw that two boys were sneaking up behind the woman who stood before him. For some reason he felt as if he knew them. They were obviously twins, but there was definitely a difference between the two. One had a cowlick on the left side of his closely cut hair; the other had one on the opposite side. It would be a wonder if she didn't ever get them mixed up. Anese saw where his gaze was pointed and turned to find Christian and Matthew frozen in mid-stride, even their goofy facial expressions were unmoving. Both Eric and Anese stared at the two until they began to twitch, then Anese swept over them and lifted the giggling pair into her arms. She swung them around once and laughed lovingly. When she set them down she began introducing them, "Boys, this is Sir Eric de Vahn. He is the new Lord of this place and you both need to do as he tells you. Respect and obey him more so than you do me." She emphasized 'obey' with a look at the pair, then continued, "Sir Eric, these are my children, Christian on the left, and Matthew on the right." That triggered the memory of his own boys. They had been merely three-year olds when they had been slaughtered the same as his wife and unborn babe. But these two young ones were so like his had been, the fact that they were twins and bore the same name only puzzled him more, but these two had to be only about four from the look of them. "Madam, your name is Anese? Am I correct?" Anese nodded, curious as to Eric's intentions. "I've heard tell that you are especially gifted with herbs; some even dare say you're a witch." "My momma's not a witch, and you leave her alone!" Matthew shouted. Anese laid a hand upon her son's shoulder and pulled him to her skirts; he barely reached her waist, and she was short as well! She said softly, "Then you've heard correctly. I am Anese, though I am certainly not a witch." Anese smiled at the thought. "Yet you are not gifted with just the average healing way. Are you not?" "Is a warrior a witch, or warlock, for being more skilled a fighter than his average fellows; is a blacksmith who makes the finest swords a witch because he has finer work? The fact is that I am no witch because I am especially gifted with herbs. Some people are just born with a knack for certain things." "But your knack is almost uncanny," Eric pointed out. "Sir Eric, I have no desire to argue over the matter. Please ask what you will of me." His warmness suddenly dissipated and he was once again cold. His eyes hardened so that Christian and Matthew both clung to the sides of Anese's skirts, but she herself never flinched. She only raised her head higher and stiffened her back. "You will come to tend the injured and dying. You will follow me, and you will do as I tell you now." "I certainly will not. You may be Lord here, but you have no power over me. I will go to the hospital you have set up only because I am not the cold hearted bastard you show yourself as." She nodded down at her boys and led them ahead of her, forcing Eric to move out of the doorway. Both boys looked at him as if he were the scum of the earth when they passed. The moment that were outside Anese leaned down to them and all three engaged in an embrace of true devotion, and then the boys were off, running toward the front of the fortress. Anese turned her chin up and began walking toward the tented area where men were being lined up. Eric strode after her, but was stopped in his pursuit when a man covered in mud collapsed at his feet. If Eric had not had the quick reflexes he did, he would have partially trampled the poor man before realizing his mistake. But he merely scooped the man up and threw him over his shoulder. The bloodied man looked to be Lamuel, Audrey's second in command here at Arlington Hall. Perhaps Lamuel had been one of the guards upon the parapets that were unknowingly raided by Eric's own sneaky men who had easily scaled the wall in a place that had been unguarded. He laid the bleeding man onto a bed that had been recently vacated by another who'd unfortunately died. It mattered not whether Eric or Audrey's man he was; he was still a man. Lamuel groaned, touching his hand to the blood soaked pants. It looked and sounded as if Lamuel had taken a blow to the groin and idiotically removed the arrow, therefore allowing blood flow. He called quickly for a nurse and ironically Anese was pushed in beside him, but she wasted no time on niceties. She quickly began stripping the man's breeched from his body, leaving Eric amazed that a woman would be so bold. She finished removing the sticky clothing with a knife she procured from her huge skirt pocket. Again she dove for her pockets and removed a jar of some raw smelling salve, and began spreading it over the wound until it had been rubbed completely into the cut that had so narrowly missed Lamuel's shaft. Eric had helped greatly through this time consuming ordeal by holding down the struggling Lamuel. Anese suddenly called for water and fresh rags, which Eric moved to get for her. She cleaned all around where the salve had been, then applied more and slid the small jar into her skirts. Then she pulled out a small leather pouch and loosened the leather coils that had been weaved through tiny slits in the top hem. She sprinkled some into a bowl Eric had found with the rags, and added a minute amount of water, mere drops, stirred the mixture, then added some more of the powdery substance. The mixture was now thick and greenish. She had Lamuel swallow a teaspoon of it and also added it atop the dried powder and salve. Satisfied, she put away her pouch and with the green mixture she laid it on the table. Then she turned to Eric. To his amazement, she spoke to him in a kind but fatigued tone, "Thank you." Eric nodded, still as cold as ever. Anese saw the obvious resentment and raised her chin and turned her back on him, picking up a roll of bandage to wrap Lamuel's wound. "His wound will need to be tended every day with fresh salt water poured over it, and clean bandages wrapping him. I may see him in the morning. Hopefully fever won't set in very quickly; with his injury it is inevitable." Anese almost snapped out at him for his coldness, but thought better of it, instead busying herself with the next man who needed her attention.
At the end of a long evening of working in the makeshift hospital, Anese finally bandaged the final man and wiped her bloody hands in the folds of her dress. She put away the last of her herbs and walked outside the elongated tent. She stretched her arms, neck, and back and was about to start toward Jack's shop where Christian and Matthew were staying, but he spoke from behind her. Anese wasn't startled. In fact, she had known that he was there, but had hoped he would not speak. She turned on her heel to face Eric. "Anese, I need to speak with you." "Well, I have two five year old boys whose love of mine they also need, so if you'd be so kind to take a number." "I'm not a kind man," Eric retorted, "and you will come with me." Anese ignored him and turned around and stalked away. She didn't get far before Eric had caught hold of her arm. She wrenched her arm away, saying in a low and menacing tone, "Don't ever touch me!" She almost ran toward Jack's house to collect the twins. All she did was call out the boys' names and they came running, immediately being swept up into their mother's loving arms. A handsome man flanked them; a man of average height of whom Eric assumed was the wood worker Jack. Anese and the man exchanged a few words, and Eric noticed she used her hands in different movements while she talked, he was suddenly jealous. For some reason he enjoyed the company of Anese, but he could not let Jennie disappear, would not let her disappear. He had found a liking in Anese from the moment he'd met her. He chastised himself for thinking with the wrong part of his anatomy. He looked up to see Anese passionately kissing Jack, her hands on his forearms. He heard the children wining for her to hurry up, and the couple broke away from the kiss, laughing heartily. Anese kissed Jack briefly on the lips and said her goodnight. Then walked hand in hand with Christian and Matthew until Matthew broke free and ran toward their cottage. It was a long run and he stopped shortly after he'd started. Both boys climbed into their mother's arms and slept on her shoulders. It amazed Eric that she was gentle and could stitch up a wound better than anyone he knew, yet she was strong enough to carry two young boys at once, but then they also looked to be five, if even. It seemed she was always doing that, amazing him. Anyway, Eric had more important things to worry about than silly females meant for one thing, to breed. That reminded him of his quest for the truth of her children. Were they the same boys he and Jennie had created? No, it wasn't possible, nothing but a coincidence of popular names. Even twins weren't so much of a find anymore. And the ages didn't match, there! Eric thought. "Ah, who am I fooling?" Eric whispered to himself. Ever since he had taken Arlington Hall, his moods had been swaying from warm to his usual self. No! Not anymore. Soon he was striding toward the keep, barking out orders to the men as to where they would sleep and who was to take watch. He and another five men would not be taking watch at all tonight, as they were to be working to repair this shack of a holding the next day. And so began the night, Eric his usual cold and detached self.
"Christian! Matthew! It's time to come inside!" Anese hollered in the general direction the two boys usually played. Today peace could be had, for Audrey Macvigh was probably dead, and Arlington Hall in the hands of the famed Eric de Vahn. Anese had thought of him as an older man with a once-was-strong look to him. At least that's what his legacy made it look as. His many deeds made it seem as though he had spent a lifetime fighting for Scotland and her bearings, but when he rode in through the gates of Arlington Hall, Anese had widened her eyes at his giant-like magnitude. He had stopped riding long enough to speak with Old Man Bluthe, and in that amount of time Anese had noticed he had even broader shoulders than she had at first seen. He had a wild mane of black hair that fell over his face much of the time and evidently dark eyes. His skin was a light tan, but she suspected that was from being in the sun for so long, although Anese wondered if he often worked shirtless. For his neck did not seem to have a tan line. Eric had been wearing no armor at all, obviously having fought in a mere midnight blue tunic and doeskin breeches. He'd carried no helm, so it was either that, or he had already deprived himself of the heavy weighted padding and guarding. But Anese was quickly diverted from her thoughts as Christian and Matthew came bounding into the kitchen of the cottage. "Momma, what's for dinner?" Matthew quietly asked. "Can we have some?" Christian piped in. "Not as yet, but when the apple pie is finished cooking, I'll call you both in for a corner bite. Now go wash up and set the table," Anese said softly, sending the two rambunctious boys off with a scoot. She could hear them toying with the idea of not washing themselves, then thought better of it and hurried along. Anese shook her head at the two. She loved them dearly, with all her heart. She only wished she could give them what they really needed, a father. Many in the village believed she had been pregnant with the twins and had hidden them for fear of humiliation for out of wedlock children, but she was sure the boys were not bastards, and they surely weren't her own in blood. She found them, she had told many of the suspicious villagers, but only Reva and Old Man Bluthe had believed her. Anese could remember the day when she had taken them into her home. It had been a cold night, perfect for morning herb gathering. She was walking when she'd heard a rustling movement of soft moss. When Anese looked around a giant tree, she'd found two small boys huddled together for warmth. She had searched for any signs their parents were around, but the area was completely deserted, so, being the kind-hearted woman she was, Anese had taken the two in and eventually learned their names. They had told her they were three, but didn't remember much of what happened as to how they'd gotten there. She had been caring for the two for a little over four years. Anese shook herself from her memories so as she could check the apple pie she had been making. Apples were a rare treat and she had used up her last stores of flour to create this delicacy for the boys and herself. Flour was only distributed out on a monthly basis, and Anese was lucky that this month was only days from being over; it was the twenty-eighth if she was correct. But she had no desire to be right, as her monthly time was late a day and she loathed the bleeding. From the adjoining dining room Anese knew that the twins had begun setting the table, because she could hear the clatter of wooden plates and cups being heavily set upon the table. Matthew and Christian had carved all the utensils except the knives and forks after watching the carpenter, Jack, who lived and worked in a small shop near the gate. This was somewhat of a long walk for the two boys; for one, Anese's cottage was along the farthest wall of Arlington Hall, and two, the boys were only seven, having small legs to match their age. Anese couldn't understand, though, why they were both so small for their age; they were well built and not scrawny like most, hardy she often thought, but very short. Their height often brought additional leverage to the rumors that she was deflowered and indeed the mother of Christian and Matthew, as she was short but well shaped. She had not so thin a waist that her ribs were shown, but neither was she fat or even overweight in the least, Old Man Bluthe doubted she had an inch of fat on her entire body. Anese had always had trouble keeping weight on. She also had ebony hair, as did her adopted sons, and a dark complexion, although her skin was much darker than that of the boys'. Yet though she had dark hair and skin, oddly enough she had brilliantly blue eyes that shown like a light blue ice. Anese had been taken from her family and sold into brief slavery when she was eleven, but she had lived in a village in Spain where light colored eyes are not native. She could not ever remember her father being at home for more than a couple of days at a time, as he was a sailor, but he had fairly light eyes, yet they were grey, not blue. "Come help me get the food boys," Anese said as a quarrel began. She picked up two clothes she had double knitted for protection against an oven's heat, and pulled the pie from the oven that also was their heater during the freezing nights. Even though the summers were sometimes hot and even blistering, the winters could be just as harsh. Christian and Matthew ran into the kitchen and immediately carried the small hen into the center of the table, one taking one side and vice versa, and then returned for the even smaller platter of different vegetables Anese had gathered fresh that afternoon; when she had gathered them she could hear the battle that raged. It had only lasted a few hours, but the fighting men had been out gathering the dead since before ten. Father Thomas would be very busy in the coming days. Matthew and Christian sat down in their chairs with a plop and folded their hands, awaiting Anese to start the evening prayer. Anese had taught them the Christian ways, even if they hadn't been Christian at birth, but she kept this to herself. "We humbly serve you, Father, and yet you give us so much even as we disobey. We ask you to help us to better ourselves and that you bless the food you have granted to us to eat and that you forgive us of our sins to which we will try not to commit again. We also ask that you guide us and bless our lives as we hope to bless yours." When Anese had finished, she nodded to the twins and allowed them to fill their plates with vegetables. Matthew went for the peeled celery and carrots, Christian for the cherry and grape tomatoes and cut pieces of potatoes. "Now, don't you think that you're going to get away with just eating what you like, take one piece of any vegetable that you didn't get and eat it. Right here in front of me, now. You two aren't going to get out of it," Anese added when she saw the boys just staring at the pieces in their hands. They quickly gobbled up the disliked food and washed it down with a miniature gulp of the fresh milk Anese had brought in. She set to work cutting the hen with the sharp metal knife Jack had given her as a birthday present, grinning at the boys' only weakness, their ally and enemy, food. "Momma, what does humble mean?" Christian asked. Anese could barely understand what he'd said as his mouth was full of hen meat. "Slow down Christ(" Anese was suddenly interrupted at the sound of a bang on the sturdy door. At least the person had the decency to knock even though it stood wide open. "I'll be right back. You two stay here and finish eating your dinners." She gave them one last look before hurrying off through the kitchen and to the door. Hardly any light showed through the doorway. A large man Anese immediately recognized as Eric de Vahn stood in front of her, his cold demeanor evident in his icy gaze. "How can I help you?" Anese said cheerfully, and for a moment he seemed to soften. Usually women cowered from him and would not meet his gaze, but not this one. The moment was fleeting, although he continued to contemplate her boldness. "I am told you have a gift for healing and(" Eric cut himself short as he saw that two boys were sneaking up behind the woman who stood before him. For some reason he felt as if he knew them. They were obviously twins, but there was definitely a difference between the two. One had a cowlick on the left side of his closely cut hair; the other had one on the opposite side. It would be a wonder if she didn't ever get them mixed up. Anese saw where his gaze was pointed and turned to find Christian and Matthew frozen in mid-stride, even their goofy facial expressions were unmoving. Both Eric and Anese stared at the two until they began to twitch, then Anese swept over them and lifted the giggling pair into her arms. She swung them around once and laughed lovingly. When she set them down she began introducing them, "Boys, this is Sir Eric de Vahn. He is the new Lord of this place and you both need to do as he tells you. Respect and obey him more so than you do me." She emphasized 'obey' with a look at the pair, then continued, "Sir Eric, these are my children, Christian on the left, and Matthew on the right." That triggered the memory of his own boys. They had been merely three-year olds when they had been slaughtered the same as his wife and unborn babe. But these two young ones were so like his had been, the fact that they were twins and bore the same name only puzzled him more, but these two had to be only about four from the look of them. "Madam, your name is Anese? Am I correct?" Anese nodded, curious as to Eric's intentions. "I've heard tell that you are especially gifted with herbs; some even dare say you're a witch." "My momma's not a witch, and you leave her alone!" Matthew shouted. Anese laid a hand upon her son's shoulder and pulled him to her skirts; he barely reached her waist, and she was short as well! She said softly, "Then you've heard correctly. I am Anese, though I am certainly not a witch." Anese smiled at the thought. "Yet you are not gifted with just the average healing way. Are you not?" "Is a warrior a witch, or warlock, for being more skilled a fighter than his average fellows; is a blacksmith who makes the finest swords a witch because he has finer work? The fact is that I am no witch because I am especially gifted with herbs. Some people are just born with a knack for certain things." "But your knack is almost uncanny," Eric pointed out. "Sir Eric, I have no desire to argue over the matter. Please ask what you will of me." His warmness suddenly dissipated and he was once again cold. His eyes hardened so that Christian and Matthew both clung to the sides of Anese's skirts, but she herself never flinched. She only raised her head higher and stiffened her back. "You will come to tend the injured and dying. You will follow me, and you will do as I tell you now." "I certainly will not. You may be Lord here, but you have no power over me. I will go to the hospital you have set up only because I am not the cold hearted bastard you show yourself as." She nodded down at her boys and led them ahead of her, forcing Eric to move out of the doorway. Both boys looked at him as if he were the scum of the earth when they passed. The moment that were outside Anese leaned down to them and all three engaged in an embrace of true devotion, and then the boys were off, running toward the front of the fortress. Anese turned her chin up and began walking toward the tented area where men were being lined up. Eric strode after her, but was stopped in his pursuit when a man covered in mud collapsed at his feet. If Eric had not had the quick reflexes he did, he would have partially trampled the poor man before realizing his mistake. But he merely scooped the man up and threw him over his shoulder. The bloodied man looked to be Lamuel, Audrey's second in command here at Arlington Hall. Perhaps Lamuel had been one of the guards upon the parapets that were unknowingly raided by Eric's own sneaky men who had easily scaled the wall in a place that had been unguarded. He laid the bleeding man onto a bed that had been recently vacated by another who'd unfortunately died. It mattered not whether Eric or Audrey's man he was; he was still a man. Lamuel groaned, touching his hand to the blood soaked pants. It looked and sounded as if Lamuel had taken a blow to the groin and idiotically removed the arrow, therefore allowing blood flow. He called quickly for a nurse and ironically Anese was pushed in beside him, but she wasted no time on niceties. She quickly began stripping the man's breeched from his body, leaving Eric amazed that a woman would be so bold. She finished removing the sticky clothing with a knife she procured from her huge skirt pocket. Again she dove for her pockets and removed a jar of some raw smelling salve, and began spreading it over the wound until it had been rubbed completely into the cut that had so narrowly missed Lamuel's shaft. Eric had helped greatly through this time consuming ordeal by holding down the struggling Lamuel. Anese suddenly called for water and fresh rags, which Eric moved to get for her. She cleaned all around where the salve had been, then applied more and slid the small jar into her skirts. Then she pulled out a small leather pouch and loosened the leather coils that had been weaved through tiny slits in the top hem. She sprinkled some into a bowl Eric had found with the rags, and added a minute amount of water, mere drops, stirred the mixture, then added some more of the powdery substance. The mixture was now thick and greenish. She had Lamuel swallow a teaspoon of it and also added it atop the dried powder and salve. Satisfied, she put away her pouch and with the green mixture she laid it on the table. Then she turned to Eric. To his amazement, she spoke to him in a kind but fatigued tone, "Thank you." Eric nodded, still as cold as ever. Anese saw the obvious resentment and raised her chin and turned her back on him, picking up a roll of bandage to wrap Lamuel's wound. "His wound will need to be tended every day with fresh salt water poured over it, and clean bandages wrapping him. I may see him in the morning. Hopefully fever won't set in very quickly; with his injury it is inevitable." Anese almost snapped out at him for his coldness, but thought better of it, instead busying herself with the next man who needed her attention.
At the end of a long evening of working in the makeshift hospital, Anese finally bandaged the final man and wiped her bloody hands in the folds of her dress. She put away the last of her herbs and walked outside the elongated tent. She stretched her arms, neck, and back and was about to start toward Jack's shop where Christian and Matthew were staying, but he spoke from behind her. Anese wasn't startled. In fact, she had known that he was there, but had hoped he would not speak. She turned on her heel to face Eric. "Anese, I need to speak with you." "Well, I have two five year old boys whose love of mine they also need, so if you'd be so kind to take a number." "I'm not a kind man," Eric retorted, "and you will come with me." Anese ignored him and turned around and stalked away. She didn't get far before Eric had caught hold of her arm. She wrenched her arm away, saying in a low and menacing tone, "Don't ever touch me!" She almost ran toward Jack's house to collect the twins. All she did was call out the boys' names and they came running, immediately being swept up into their mother's loving arms. A handsome man flanked them; a man of average height of whom Eric assumed was the wood worker Jack. Anese and the man exchanged a few words, and Eric noticed she used her hands in different movements while she talked, he was suddenly jealous. For some reason he enjoyed the company of Anese, but he could not let Jennie disappear, would not let her disappear. He had found a liking in Anese from the moment he'd met her. He chastised himself for thinking with the wrong part of his anatomy. He looked up to see Anese passionately kissing Jack, her hands on his forearms. He heard the children wining for her to hurry up, and the couple broke away from the kiss, laughing heartily. Anese kissed Jack briefly on the lips and said her goodnight. Then walked hand in hand with Christian and Matthew until Matthew broke free and ran toward their cottage. It was a long run and he stopped shortly after he'd started. Both boys climbed into their mother's arms and slept on her shoulders. It amazed Eric that she was gentle and could stitch up a wound better than anyone he knew, yet she was strong enough to carry two young boys at once, but then they also looked to be five, if even. It seemed she was always doing that, amazing him. Anyway, Eric had more important things to worry about than silly females meant for one thing, to breed. That reminded him of his quest for the truth of her children. Were they the same boys he and Jennie had created? No, it wasn't possible, nothing but a coincidence of popular names. Even twins weren't so much of a find anymore. And the ages didn't match, there! Eric thought. "Ah, who am I fooling?" Eric whispered to himself. Ever since he had taken Arlington Hall, his moods had been swaying from warm to his usual self. No! Not anymore. Soon he was striding toward the keep, barking out orders to the men as to where they would sleep and who was to take watch. He and another five men would not be taking watch at all tonight, as they were to be working to repair this shack of a holding the next day. And so began the night, Eric his usual cold and detached self.