His wife remained brave and was busy tending her wound. She tore off part of her other sleeve to wrap around the wound that still oozed blood. She hadn’t paid her chest wound any attention and he assumed her garment had soaked enough blood to stop the bleeding. Her neck wound was minor, nothing more than a dribble of blood. It was important he get her to Wren, concerned any of the wounds could eventually prove deadly if not tended properly. But first, he was going to make Firth suffer for what he’d done to her. He wasn’t going to let him get away this time. He intended to make certain Firth never got to hurt his wife again.
“It’s a good thing Firth doesn’t have a sizeable troop, or any skilled warriors with him, or they would have captured you by now,” Royden whispered without turning around.
“I was soundless. You couldn’t have heard me,” Trevor said, keeping his voice to a whisper as he hunched down beside Royden.
“I could smell you.”
Trevor lifted an arm to sniff his sleeve. “My wife,” he said, her sweet scent lingering on him, then quickly peered past the bushes. “So you realized Firth had no troop with him?”
“He wouldn’t have warriors wait this close to your keep. Your men would have decimated them. But he’s not foolish enough to come alone. There’s a good chance he has a troop nearby, so time is not our friend here.”
“You should let the Beast handle this. Firth would suffer far more at his hands than yours.”
Keeping his eye on Oria, he asked, “And what would you do if it were Demelza?”
“That would depend on if I could reach my wife before the Beast did,” Trevor said, his eyes on Oria as well.
“How long before the Beast arrives?”
“Not long,” Trevor said. “Firth doesn’t stand a chance against Wolf and his men.”
“Either will my wife, if Firth reaches her first,” Royden said and stood.
“What are you doing?” Trevor asked.
“I’m going to get my wife before someone gets her killed,” Royden said and was about to step past the bushes when he stopped and dropped down to peer through the bushes again.
That got Trevor to turn his head and do the same. “It’s that damn leper.”
“You know Brother Noble?” Royden asked.
“Is that his name?” Trevor shook his head. “We call him leper. He begs for food sometimes. What is he doing approaching those men?”
“My guess would be that he’s trying to help my wife, since she has been good to him,” Royden said and watched.
Brother Noble entered the clearing, leaning on a sturdy branch that Royden assumed he used as a walking staff. His gait was slow, his body stooped, and the hood of his brown robe hung over his face.
“He’s a leper,” one of the two men with Firth said and though he wasn’t close, the man moved farther away.
The other man went to the edge of the woods, looking as if he would dash away any minute, and Firth stepped away from Oria as Brother Noble approached her.
“Stay where you are, leper,” Firth ordered.
Brother Noble paid him no mind. His feet continued to shuffle along the ground as if it was too much of an effort to lift them as he moved toward Oria. “Mistress Oria is my friend and I see that she’s hurt. I stopped to pray for her.”
“We don’t need your prayers, be gone,” Firth demanded, waving his hand trying to shoo the man away.
“I don’t mean to of—” A hacking cough robbed the leper of words and it was a minute or so before he could talk once again. “I don’t mean to offend. A prayer or two, then I’ll be gone.”
Royden almost yelled out for the leper to stop, he was getting far too close to Oria, but he held his tongue, realizing what the leper was doing. He was shielding Oria from Firth and the other two men. They wouldn’t dare approach her with the leper standing between them.
Royden owed Brother Noble for his bravery and for giving him the chance he’d been waiting for—Firth far enough away from his wife that he couldn’t harm her. He stood and entered the clearing.
Firth rushed toward Oria when he spotted Royden, but stopped abruptly the leper blocking his way.
“I warned you,” Firth shouted at Royden, then looked to the leper, his shout even stronger. “Move!”
“I’m not finished praying,” the leper said.
Royden thought to order Oria to come to him, but being closer, seeing her more clearly, he saw that her wounds and the days’ events had begun to take a toll on her. She was pale and the cloth around her arm was soaked with blood, and he didn’t know the extent of her chest wound. She needed Wren. But at the moment, she was safer where she was, behind the leper.