Janet appeared, bringing Dunstan a cup of tea she said would help with the pain. He drank it down as I talked to Branford about Edith and her unusual sewing. His eyes widened at the thought, but when he spoke, his voice was desperate.
“Do you think you could do such a thing?” he asked. “Use a needle to sew through a man’s skin? I have heard of it, but I have never seen it done.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I have never done it before or even seen it be done. It would be very painful. If nothing is done, I fear the leg will be lost.”
“If it could save his leg, he would endure the pain.”
I nodded and sent Janet for my sewing needles and the strongest thread she could find. Michael fetched water and cloths to clean blood from the leg while Branford attempted his own brand of pain reduction—in the form of strong mead.
As Dunstan drank, I put everything I would need on the end of the bed.
“He will have to be held down tightly.” I looked to Branford, who nodded and switched places with Michael. He knelt on the floor and wrapped his hands around the young man’s calf—holding it firmly against the bed while I wiped blood from the gash in his thigh.
Dunstan’s body jerked as the needle entered through his skin, but he did endure, as Branford had said he would, until I had to pull the skin taut so the thread could pull and bind the edges of skin and seal the gash. I wished I was able to close my ears as well as my eyes as he began to scream—necessitating both Parnell and Camden to hold him against the bed as he thrashed. Branford’s arms flexed, and the muscles grew tight as he tried to keep the leg from moving.
“Work quickly!” he said through clenched teeth.
“I am trying,” I replied. I did not want to have to retrace my stitches, so I knew I needed to be careful. One of the other solders joined us to keep Dunstan as still as possible. I had managed to sew up two-thirds of the wound when Dunstan’s body went still.
“Is he—?” Branford cried out to Parnell.
“Passed out,” Parnell replied with a shake of his head. “He still breathes. We should finish quickly. I do not know if he can take much more.”
With Dunstan unconscious, I could work faster to complete the remaining stitches to hold the wound closed. With Janet’s help, I wrapped clean bandages around Dunstan’s thigh and sat back. Sunniva came up beside me, holding out a bowl of clean water. The queen herself helped me to clean the blood from my hands, and the king and prince moved Dunstan to a more comfortable resting place.
“Will he live?” Sunniva asked quietly.
“Only time will tell,” I said. “He is through the worst of it, I think. But I know very little of healing.”
“You were magnificent,” Sunniva stated. “It is fitting—he saved Branford, and now you may have saved him.”
When the tears came to my eyes this time, I let them fall.
Janet was left to watch over Dunstan as Branford and I followed the king and queen back to the grand hall, Parnell and Ida trailing behind. When we arrived, there were a few members of the court waiting for us, and Branford gave a quick recounting of Edgar’s army, the battles they fought over the time he was gone, the losses, and the conditions of his surrender.
There were many concessions Branford was forced to give to Hadebrand. His title to Sterling Castle was given to Edgar, along with the lands encompassing the village of Wynton. In addition, Edgar now held a high position in the court at Silverhelm and would be coming to the castle on a regular basis to meet with Camden and Branford. This, it seemed, was the most regrettable of all the concessions Silverhelm was to endure with the loss of the war.
After hearing the depiction of Branford’s surrender, Camden dismissed us, telling Branford to rest and tend to me. My husband’s weary eyes met mine, and he did not hesitate to take my arm and lead me to our rooms. As soon as the door behind me was closed, I was in his arms and being carried swiftly to our bed. He pulled off my clothing unceremoniously and discarded his in the same manner.
He reacquainted himself with my curves, sliding his hands slowly from my shoulders to my hips before coming back up to wrap them around my breasts. He suckled each of them in turn as he slowly brought our bodies together.
I dropped my head and groan
ed at the feeling of the pressure inside of me as he entered. I missed this so very, very much while he was away. For a long moment, he stayed still and buried inside of me, and I was grateful. When he began to move, he moved slowly in and out of me as his mouth warmed my nipples. He moved one of his hands down between our bodies, and his thumb matched the pace of his slow thrusts.
“Oh! Branford!” I cried out as his motions quickened and my body responded, clenching tightly around him. I dug my fingers into his shoulder blades, and my back arched as his tongue and teeth continued to work my nipples.
“I love you…my wife…”
“My Branford…”
Branford moaned his prayers as he filled me, the tight muscles of his arms capturing my body and holding it firmly against his own. Rolling to his side, he held me in his tight embrace as he kissed and nibbled at my neck.
“I love you,” I whispered to him.
“And I love you,” he replied, “more than you will ever know. Images of you in my head were the only reason I could keep going. Even when loss was inevitable, I knew I had to get back to you…see your face again…”
“I missed you so much!” I cried as I wrapped my arms around his neck and finally let my tears flow freely. He held me tight against him, whispering softly to me and rocking our bodies together.