'We have only to hear that Danewold has been captured and we need fear nothing,' she said to Stefan, as she lay in his arms that night, content from his loving. 'It is for our people that I worry, in case he tries to harm them again. Is there nothing more that we can do to see that he is punished, my lord?'

'Did I not tell you? He has been captured...'

'And when was that?' Elona raised herself on one elbow to look at him, her eyes bright with suspicion in the glow of the candle. 'I believed he was captured all the time. You told me he was outlawed to keep me from leaving.'

'I would have told you anything to that end,' Stefan whispered as he pulled her down to him, so that she lay on top of him, her lips close to his as he began to kiss her. Little, teasing kisses that aroused her even though she had thought herself satiated from their last loving. 'Shall I never have enough of you, Elona?'

'I hope that you will not, my lord,' she said and laughed as, greatly daring, she straddled him. Seeing what she meant to do, he laughed and lifted her, his hands about her waist, letting her ease herself on to the hard shaft of his manhood, easing her silken moistness down to its root so slowly that he cried out with pleasure. Her hair fell over his face and he twisted his fingers in the scented tresses, holding her fast as he kissed her long and hard, and then, with one surging movement, swung her over on her back and took the dominant position. She laughed up at him, her love in her eyes, surrendering to him completely as she said, 'For I do not think I can ever have enough of you.'

'You are my love, my heart, my life, and I should die without you,' Stefan breathed, and Elona felt the sweetness of his words like honey. At last she believed. He loved her as much as she loved him. 'Never forget that I adore you, Elona. If G.o.d should take me from you...'

'Hush, my lord,' she begged him and pressed her lips to his.

He must not tempt fate, for his words had sent a cold shiver down her spine. Her happiness had seemed so complete and now she realised that it could change in an instant, for without Stefan her life would once again be empty.

Chapter Eleven.

B the morning Elona had forgotten any foolish fears she might have had the previous night. Stefan was strong and healthy, as was she, and there was no reason why they should not have a long life together.

It was a crisp winter day; the air was chill but not yet bitter, a pale sun promising to break through later, and the earth hard beneath the horses' hooves.

'A good day for hunting, my lord,' Malachi the huntsman said as Stefan and Elona went out to join the small crowd of men awaiting them. 'We should have some good sport.'

'You have not forgot my orders?'

'No, my lord.'

Elona caught the excitement of the men. It was a day to remember, the clean crisp air like wine on the tongue.

The dogs were baying madly, straining at the leash as the runners set off ahead. They were to hunt wild boar rather than deer that day, for Stefan's men had already taken the permitted number of royal venison that year. Wild boar belonged to the lord of the manor, as did the other game in his woods.

Hunting the boar was different from stag hunting, for the dogs were not unleashed, at least until the boar was wounded and cornered. Their keen scent glands were useful for picking up the scent of the dangerous beasts and their baying for flushing the boars out of the undergrowth for the bowmen to shoot.

The hors.e.m.e.n rode at a canter, keeping pace with the dogs and the runners who had an easy loping movement that they could keep up for hours at a time. Hunting deer was a more thrilling chase, but it was pleasant enough in the forest, and although they found no scent for quite some time, Elona was content. For herself she would not have cared if they had not put up a quarry. However, hunting for food was a necessity rather than a pastime and when the dogs started to howl and strain at the leash, she knew what to expect. Clearly they had picked up a scent.

Suddenly, a boar plunged out of the thicket and charged towards the dogs and runners. It was a ma.s.sive, fearsome beast with huge, sharp tusks and red eyes.

A bowman took aim, his arrow piercing the beast at the back of its neck, but, instead of falling, it plunged back into the forest and disappeared from sight. The runners would have gone after it, but three more wild pigs had broken out of the undergrowth and the bowmen and dogs were kept busy.

'Come, Elona,' Stefan said as the serious business of slaughtering began. 'We shall ride this way a little.'

She turned with him obediently, for the bloodletting held no appeal for her, though she understood that it must happen if they were not to starve that winter. Once the snows came there would be little fresh meat available and they would rely on the salted meat taken from this hunt. Such were the facts of life and a good housewife must be prepared to deal with whatever the huntsmen brought in.

'Shall we walk a little?' Stefan asked as they came upon a pretty glade. 'The men do not need me and we shall not ride into the forest again until next spring, for if I am not mistaken the weather will change soon.'

'Your weather here in England is much colder than in France. Often my father and brother were able to hunt throughout much of the winter. And that meant we had fresh meat most of the year, though we always salted several barrels just in case.'

'You were fortunate,' Stefan said. 'Here the game is plentiful in spring and summer, but the last time we hunted we took only one boar and a hind. I think we have done better today. You must have brought us luck, Elona.'

She smiled as he came to help her down, his hands lingering about her waist as he gazed into her eyes, then drew her close to his heart for a moment. He kissed her, and touched her face with his fingertips.

'I love you so much, my dearest wife.'

'And I love you.' She stretched up to touch her lips to his, and then as he let her go and she looked about her, she pointed to the other side of the clearing excitedly. 'Oh, look, Stefan, are they not filbert nuts? We have stumbled upon them quite by chance. I shall pick as many as I can for they will make good eating.'

'How will you gather them?'

'In my wimple,' she said. 'Will you unpin it for me, Stefan?'

She was wearing a simple covering, which she fashioned into a small pouch to carry the nuts. Stefan followed a few steps behind her as she ran across the clearing, amused at her determination to make the most of her find. She was happily pulling the small nuts from the bush when the grunting sound alerted Stefan. Something was hidden behind those bushes next to hers.

Suddenly, the wounded boar that the bowmen had not killed broke from the undergrowth. Behind it came a bowman and a runner with his dog, but neither of them were close enough to stop the boar charging-and Elona was in its path.

Nothing was more dangerous than a wild boar when wounded, which was why the dogs were kept leashed until the animal was cornered. They had no chance against those evil tusks and Elona had even less.

Stefan was unarmed. He could do nothing except what he did, which was to thrust Elona into the bush and turn to face the charging beast. With only his bare hands, he tried to ward it off, but he was caught by those cruel tusks as they tore viciously at his thigh, his scream of pain alerting the bowmen and the runner.

The runner released his dog, and the brave creature rushed to his master's defence, growling and attacking the boar from behind. Snarling and growling, the dog closed with the boar for a few seconds, diverting it from attacking Stefan, and as the two fought savagely, the bowman took careful aim. His arrow pierced the boar's neck. Maddened by the fresh pain, it tossed the dog to one side, where it lay bleeding and spent, and looked for the source of new danger, and then a second bowman had found a surer mark and an arrow pierced the east's eye.

This time it staggered and fell, grunting and twitching until the huntsman dispatched it with his merciful knife. The wounded dog was also dispatched, for it had fought bravely but suffered grave injury and there was nothing to be done.

Elona had meantime scrambled to her feet and was bending over Stefan as he lay on the ground. The wound to his thigh was deep and bleeding profusely, his face pale as he struggled to fight the terrible faintness that threatened to rob him of his wits. He had other gashes on his hands and arms, hut they were skin deep and not serious.

'He is losing too much blood,' the huntsman said. 'We must tie him above the wound, my lady, to stop the flow.'

'Stefan...' Elona's voice caught with tears as she saw that he was in terrible pain. 'You foolish, foolish man...'

'Would you have had me leave you to your fate, my love?' Even now there was a wry smile upon his lips.

'We must get him back to the house,' she said to the huntsman, fighting the tears and faintness that threatened her. She must be strong for his sake! 'That wound must be cauterised or he will die.'

Stefan's eyes were closed. She thought he must have lost consciousness as the huntsman tied a belt tightly above the wound, cutting off the crimson flow.

'It will hold for a while,' Cedric told her. 'We must do as you say, my lady, though the wound is deep.'

His face told her what he would not say. Men seldom recovered from such wounds.

'I shall do the cauterising,' Mary said once she had examined her master's wound. 'It must be done thoroughly or it will not serve.' Her eyes met Elona's. 'I shall need men to hold him, for he may wake-and the shock could kill him.'

'Stefan will not die,' Elona said. 'Do what you must, Mary.'

She signed to four strong men who were standing by, ready to take their places. 'You know what to do. Hold him well, or he will fight you.'

The iron had been heated over the fire until it was red hot. Mary glanced at Elona, pausing for a moment as though she feared what she must do, and then, at a nod from her mistress, she held it against the open wound.

The stench of burning flesh was terrible, but not so fearful as Stefan's scream of agony. He jerked violently, fighting against the unbearable agony as Mary continued to hold the iron against his flesh for what seemed an eternity. And then, mercifully, he fainted, his endurance at an end as his body gave its own response by robbing him of his senses.

'He is merely unconscious,' Mary said as Elona gave a sobbing cry. 'Fear not, my lady, he lives.'

'G.o.d be praised,' one of the men said and another made the sign of the cross over his breast. All four of them looked sick and shocked, and as Elona dismissed them she could hear them murmuring to each other of their fears that their master would die.

'What must we do now?' Elona asked of her women as the men departed. It had been agony to watch Stefan's suffering, but she would not spare herself anything. 'Do any of you know a remedy for the pain he will feel when he comes to himself?'

Melise had a remedy for a sleeping draught, which she warned must be used sparingly; if not, the sleep it induced would be permanent. Mary had something that had helped her husband when he was in fever, though, as she reminded Elona, it had not saved him.

'His life is in G.o.d's hands,' Elona said. 'We can only tend him and pray that he recovers, but there are books in my lord's special chamber-and I believe that the good Father and I might find some remedy in them that may help us.'

'We must take turns in sitting with him,' Mary said, 'for he will need constant watching, and it is too much for one person alone. You have had a terrible shock, my lady. You should rest for a while.'

'You will call me if he wakes?'

'Yes, of course.'

'Then I shall leave him to your care for the moment. I have other tasks that I must perform.'

Elona went over to the bed, bending down to kiss Stefan's forehead as he lay with his eyes closed, his skin damp with sweat from the pain he had endured before he lost consciousness.

'Sleep well, my beloved husband,' she said. 'I shall come to you soon and my thoughts are always with you.'

Elona was frowning as she left the chamber. Piers would be waiting for his orders, as would the men. She must take charge of the household now, for Stefan might lie on his sickbed for many weeks-if he ever rose from it again. Her eyes were stinging with the tears she could not afford to let fall. Weeping would not save her husband nor oversee his affairs. She had to be strong for there was no other choice.

'My lady...' Piers came hurrying to her as she reached the great hail, his face working with grief and anxiety. 'What are we to do? If my lord should die...'

'My husband will not die,' Elona said. 'He may be ill for a long time, Piers, but we shall nurse him and he will recover. In the meantime, you will do all that was done before. His men must train every morning as they have always done. There will be no slacking just because Stefan cannot be there to watch them. I charge you to see that everything goes on as it must.'

Piers looked at her, wondering at how calm and yet how pale she looked. 'You need not fear that we shall shirk our duty, lady. What of the meat that was brought in from the hunt?'

'Half of it is to be taken to the village,' Elona instructed. The rest will be salted for the winter. I shall go to the kitchens now myself and set the work in train.'

'But you have other concerns...'

'My lord is being cared for for the moment,' Elona said. 'I know what he would have me do, and I must do it.'

'Yes, my lady-but he would not have you tire yourself.'

'Trust me to know when I must rest,' Elona said with a smile for his concern. 'After I have set the kitchen to work salting the meat, I shall write a letter to Sir Ralph and you will arrange for someone to deliver it, please.'

'A letter to Sir Stefan's father...' Piers looked at her uncertainly.

'I know that my husband does not always see eye to eye with his father,' Elona said, 'but Sir Ralph must be informed, though he need not trouble himself to come if he does not wish.'

Piers inclined his head. 'It shall be as you command, my lady.'

'Good.' Elona smiled wearily. 'And now I must see to the meat.'

'He is in fever,' Mary told her when she returned to her husband's chamber after washing and changing into a clean tunic and gown. 'He has not woken since the wound was cauterised.'

'Then he did not know I was not here,' Elona said and looked at her serving woman. 'And now you must rest, Mary, for I want you to share the nursing with me. Bethany and Melise will help where they can, but my poor nurse is old and cannot do much other than sit or prepare one of her cures, and Bethany would be afraid if his condition were to worsen and not know what to do. You have had experience of such nursing.'

'I thought that my husband would recover,' Mary told her, her face grave. 'He seemed to heal and the fever eased, but then one day, he had an odd seizure and his death was sudden-as if something stopped his heart. The priest told me it was G.o.d's hand, but I have wondered if there might have been a reason for it-something I could have done to prevent it if I had only known what...' She shook her head sadly, for she had not done with grieving.

'We must pray for guidance,' Elona said. 'Do not think that I shall blame you if my husband dies, Mary. I know that you will use all the skill you have to save him, as I shall-but his fate is in G.o.d's hands.'

'Did you find anything that might help him?'

'Father Fernando is searching the ma.n.u.scripts now. He says that there are several with remedies of treatment for wounds, and that Stefan brought them back with him from the Holy Land, intending to discover more about them. So far he had not had time to study them, but the priest will do so now.'

'He did not disapprove or say that you should not try to usurp G.o.d's privilege?'

'Father Fernando is not of that ilk,' Elona said. 'We are fortunate to have him still with us, for he is to leave us very soon now, and I know that if something can be sent for that will help, we shall discover it. And now you must leave us for a while. Go to your couch and rest.'

After Mary had departed, Elona took her stool closer to the bed and reached out to hold Stefan's hand as it lay on the coverlet.

'I am here with you now, my dearest,' she said. 'Everything is being done as you would order it. There is nothing to worry you. We shall do all that we can to make you well and strong again.'

His hand moved restlessly in hers, twitching and jerking, his eyelids fluttering as he moaned with pain. Elona let go of his hand and picked up a cloth, rinsing it in the pan of cool water beside the bed. She bent over him, bathing his forehead and shoulders for he was very hot.

'Don't send me away...'

She was startled as she heard the feverish words and continued with her work of cooling him, slipping down the light coverlet to bathe more of his heated flesh.

'No one will send you away, dearest.'

'I killed my mother, but I did not mean to...' Stefan muttered. 'It wasn't my fault, Father.. .forgive me...'

Had it hurt him so very much to be sent away from his home as a child? It must have done if he still felt it so strongly that it played upon his mind. Elona's heart wrenched with pity for the child he had been, and for the man she loved lying so still in his bed.

'It wasn't your fault, dearest,' she told him soothingly. 'The child is not to blame, for it does not ask to be born.'

'Elona...' Stefan's head moved restlessly on the pillow. 'Don't leave me.. .love you.. .need you.. .don't leave me...'

'I shall never leave you, my love,' Elona said and bent over him, placing her lips against his. Emotion caught at her throat and the tears ran down her cheeks, but she wiped them away. 'Never in this life...' Her voice caught on a sob. 'Don't leave me, my dearest. Fight.. .cling to life, for it can be so very sweet for us.'

She loved him so much and she did not know how she would bear it if he died. But he must not die. He should not die if there were any way to prevent it!

Elona sat with him throughout the night, and in the early hours Melise and Bethany came together and forced her to give up her place. She went to her chamber and allowed Julia to undress her and help her to bed, for in truth she was too weary to resist.

She slept for some hours and when she woke and broke her fast, Bethany told her that there was no change.

'Your lord is still in fever, my lady,' Bethany said. 'Mary gave him some of the draught she had prepared for him and it seemed to ease him for a while, but the fever still rages.'

'Yes, I am sure that it will,' Elona said. 'We must not expect a swift cure; my lord's wounds are terrible and the cauterising robbed him of his strength.'