‘You’re awake.’ Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Louve entered Balthus’s room. It was dark outside, but morning was coming. He’d barely heard the healer’s soft knock on their door and Bied hadn’t heard it at all so he left her to her rest. She’d gone to bed mere hours ago.
‘I wish I wasn’t,’ Balthus said, his words groggy.
‘We’ll disagree for ever on that one.’ Louve sat at the chair nearby. ‘I’ll be returning that missive you wrote before the hunt. The one that tells Reynold the regrettable years as brothers you lost and the sincere regard you have for him.’
A corner of Balthus’s lip curved. ‘You didn’t read it.’
‘Because it was sealed? That only encouraged me.’
More of a smile. ‘No, because that isn’t what I told my brother.’
Games! Louve cursed.
Balthus laughed, choked, and Louve grabbed the cup on the table, filled it with watered wine and brought it to Balthus’s lips until he eased his head on the pillow.
‘I understand the healers have been giving you all they can for pain,’ Louve said. ‘I’d hoped you would have slept longer.’
‘The pain is just a bit more...’ Balthus faded. ‘This cursed strap and quilt won’t let me see. My hand is gone, isn’t it?’
‘Don’t force it,’ Louve said. ‘Your arm’s been secured to the post so you wouldn’t accidentally damage it in your sleep.’
‘Well, now that you’re here—’ Balthus pointed his chin to the strap ‘—release me.’
‘You didn’t tell me how bad it was,’ Louve said. ‘We didn’t get to it in time.’
‘We’ve been hiding lots of deeds from each other,’ Balthus said, fighting the bindings that held his arm to the bed.
‘Stop trying to move your arm, and this is different!’ Louve said. ‘You should have seen a healer.’
‘It sounds...’ Balthus said. ‘You care?’
Louve took two breaths; he’d had enough of Warstones.
‘I had seen a healer,’ Balthus said, his voice gruff. ‘At my family home. I continued to apply the clean linens and poultice given to me. There wasn’t any one in Troyes.’
Because they’d barely arrived in Troyes when Balthus and he had been sent out again. ‘Ian has one.’
‘You know I couldn’t see Ian’s healer, at least not while Ian...’ Balthus swallowed. ‘It was bad when mother first burned it, and it seemed to heal. I must have damaged it again between Troyes and now, and her breaking the—I need to see it.’
Louve wanted to fight the order, but if he had been in Balthus’s position, he would have demanded the same. He unlashed the arm and cradled it in both his hands. ‘It’ll look worse than... Ian’s dagger hit the same arm, which is why the wrapping is excessive. But though you fainted, that cut was superficial.’
‘I do not faint,’ Balthus bit out.
Louve attempted to jest, but his words were flat. He knew why—there was one point he wanted Balthus to understand.
‘It was my sword.’ Louve faced Balthus and waited for the accusations and hatred he deserved. He had taken moments to sharpen and clean his weapon of any fragments. The strike cut clean and the healer immediately responded. Still, he was the one who did the deed.
Balthus’s expression didn’t change. ‘Stop being a coward and lift it.’
Huffing out a breath, Louve brought the left arm into Balthus’s field of vision. It was wrapped in fresh linens to his shoulder. Blood seeped in places and the poultice caused brown stains, but there was no mistaking that his limb ended too abruptly. That—
‘You, too?’ Balthus said.
Balthus was looking over his shoulder. Louve turned and saw Bied leaning against the door, tears streaming down her face.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, moving into the room, and wiping her cheeks. Her hair was unbound, her gown hastily pulled over her chemise...her feet were bare. She’d gotten little sleep since Ian was buried, but she was more beautiful now than ever.
Louve held his arm as Balthus slowly lowered his gaze. The youngest Warstone’s body shuddered as if with a blow. There were no words of comfort. He could tell Balthus how fortunate he’d only lost the hand above the wrist, and not the entire arm, but it didn’t matter.
‘I shouldn’t have hit you that way,’ Bied said.
‘What?’ Balthus said, his breaths mere pants as he rotated the amputated limb in Louve’s hold.
‘I shoved you and, when you fell, your hand slammed, and the impact made it worse.’
Balthus lowered his arm, his gaze taking in Louve, then Bied.
‘Are you both blaming yourselves for this?’ Balthus’s eyes threaded with bewilderment. ‘I knew I was going to lose it, though I stubbornly attempted to take care. My mother broke that finger just before Ian’s attack. I could feel something then... I was standing there conversing with my brother, knowing our mother’s action had completed the damage. I couldn’t react quickly enough.’
‘Still—’ she said.
‘You couldn’t have pushed me more gently out of harm’s way.’
Bied’s brows rose. ‘I wish I could have done something.’
‘You did,’ Balthus said. ‘Both of you saved my life.’
‘When you’re well, I expect your rage,’ Louve said.
‘Why? Because of my hand, or because you threw the dagger that killed my brother? I saw you throw—I saw what Ian did. This fighting begins and ends with my parents. And that is all.’ Balthus’s eyes shone for just a moment before he blinked. ‘When I am well, I expect to best you in training and gloat.’
Balthus’s words eased some of the tightness in Louve’s chest. So many factors, but he never meant it to end the way it did. ‘For that coward comment, I’ll race you on horseback.’
Balthus eyed him. ‘Since I’ve known you, no one has beaten you in a race. You’d purposefully set up a one-handed man?’
Louve merely raised one brow. ‘Afraid?’
Balthus laughed, coughed and Louve grabbed the cup for him to take a drink.
Bied took a step and laid her palm on Balthus’s forehead. ‘You still have a fever. I’ll send the healer in to tend to your needs before you rest.’
‘I feel as though I have been resting—how long?’
‘Eight days. Sometimes you’d wake, but wouldn’t stay that way for long,’ Louve said.
Days where he and Bied had reached some compromise where they touched more and talked less. She hadn’t told him she loved him, though he swore he felt caring in her touch, in their soft words. But what did he know? No woman had ever loved him and perhaps this one never would as well.
Could he blame her? He had coin, but no home. He had ways of making more coin, of obtaining a home, but the life of a mercenary would take him far away from any family life. She had a family she needed to care for and...there was just too much danger with no certainty to protect her. He might tell her he loved her, because he did, and after what he’d witnessed in that Hall he wanted to tell her every day for all the days they had left, but he could never demand she do the same.
Why would he want her to suffer the pain he did?
‘You need to know we’ve had all the guards on shorter rotations to stay alert and I sent a message to Reynold—he’ll be here soon,’ Louve said.
‘He can’t...’ Balthus said. ‘He can’t come here.’
Louve scoffed. ‘Reynold will do what he wants, as you well know.’
‘But our parents are travelling—there will be traps everywhere.’ Balthus inhaled sharply. ‘Do they know Ian is gone?’
‘The first messenger I sent out with the missive didn’t arrive. His horse wandered back.’ Louve bared his teeth. ‘They know. I have sent out many of your men since then to track your family. They won’t surprise me like that again.’
‘My men?’ Balthus said.
‘This fortress is no longer Ian’s.’
Balthus clenched his eyes.
‘Do you need some tisane?’ Bied said.
‘Two brothers gone,’ Balthus whispered.
Bied looked to Louve. ‘He had to, to protect you. If Louve hadn’t released that blade, I would have.’
Balthus whipped his gaze to hers. ‘Again, you think I’d blame you? I don’t understand either one of you. Is this what ordinary families are like?’
‘Where we worry about feelings and showing loyalty and caring?’ Louve laughed low, his heart full of Bied’s fierce protectiveness of him. ‘Welcome to our side.’
‘I don’t know if I’d want it, it’s too complicated.’ Balthus closed his eyes.
‘You should rest,’ Bied said.
‘Eight days of rest, just a bit more,’ Balthus said, but at Bied’s expression Balthus softened his stance. ‘If I may.’
‘Make it quick,’ she agreed.
Balthus cocked his head as though Bied was someone he couldn’t comprehend; Louve was very familiar with that feeling.
‘You didn’t, by chance, find the parchment?’ Balthus said.
‘I have turned every stone, pried open floorboards and opened every box. Your brother had some good hiding places, and beautiful trinkets, but no parchment. It is likely true it is with Ian’s wife and children.’
‘Who are probably no longer in France,’ Balthus said.
‘I’ll need to find them,’ Louve said. ‘I told Ian I would.’
Balthus’s laugh was thin. ‘If my dear sister-in-law has hidden, do you think she’ll want to be found?’
‘There’s no one else to—’
‘When I’m healed, I’ll leave,’ Balthus said. ‘Remember, I still need to prove my deeds. Lying here and healing is hardly a test of my loyalty.’
‘Your brother wanted to apologise to them. He had wanted to be a better husband.’
Balthus eyes dimmed. ‘Then that’s a message best coming from a Warstone since there’s much we have to apologise for. It’s been years, but she might recognise me. It’s settled, then?’
All Louve had to do was wonder if Ian would have accepted Balthus finding his wife and sons. In his heart Louve knew he would, because it would mean a brother hadn’t betrayed him.
Louve gave a curt nod, and Balthus closed his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath.
‘Do you need anything?’ Louve whispered low.
Balthus gave a shake to his head. ‘I’m relieved to be handing this monstrosity over to you. In truth, I hate this place, but if we don’t keep control my parents will seize this fortress before you expel your last breath.’
‘Wait—’ Louve said.
Bied gasped.
Balthus’s eyes sharpened on her.
‘You can’t grant me this,’ Louve said.
‘True, missives will need to be sent to both Kings and recordings will have to be archived, but after that it’s yours.’
‘It’s a Warstone fortress,’ Louve said. There were numerous reasons why he didn’t want this—it being a Warstone holding and prone to attacks was only one of the reasons. The other was Bied. Although...
Balthus’s eyes grew heavy. ‘Wasn’t it you who bantered about a property and peace and all that? Who will protest? Reynold? Not likely.’
‘What am I to do with this?’ Louve said.
Balthus blinked, his eyes taking on a look Louve didn’t expect. Softer. Regretful. ‘You must. Unless they can be appeased, and they will never be appeased, you have made terrible enemies of my parents. I will tell them what has occurred, that you saved one life for another, but...one parent will demand retribution.’
Beside him, Bied choked back a cry. ‘Balthus, of course he’ll—’
‘I need to think about this,’ Louve interrupted. He would not be swayed until he conversed with Bied. ‘Give me time.’
Bied waved her arm around. ‘For what?’
‘I think you two need to converse.’ Balthus snorted, then purposefully closed his eyes. ‘I can’t believe I just suggested a discussion. This side truly is fraught with peril.’