As he lay tortured, and waiting for Drew to finish he looked around and realized that he was in his own tent...with the privacy curtains hung and drawn. It was rare to hang them, more so still to draw them. Not wanting to unclench his teeth to speak, for fear he may whimper like a wee lad, he merely pointed to the curtains.

"You were in bad shape. I was not sure if you were going to make it. Since you are our captain, I thought it would be better for morale if they could not watch me dig out that arrow and stitch you back together."

"I suppose it would not be good for morale if they watched me die either." Erec groused, then hissed as more witch hazel hit the open sores and stung like hell.

Drew chuckled as he continued to clean and bandage Erec's wounds.

"You are enjoying this."

"Maybe a little." Drew admitted as Erec hissed again.

"Why did you kick me in the head?"

"What?" Drew paused, a strip of bandage mid-air.

"I feel like I was kicked in the head by a mule and you are the only ass I know around here."

Unfortunately, the desired effect was lost as he started another coughing spell. This time it took several sips of wine before he was able to breathe again.

"And you," Drew deadpanned as he resumed his work with the bandage. "are the only ass that I know around here. So, I would say that makes us an even-matched pair, does it not?"

"Aye." Erec smiled, resisting the urge to laugh for fear of coughing again.

"Have you told Cameron that I shall live?"

"I have not." Drew answered with a frown as he met Erec's eyes. "I have only just finished."

"You have told no one that I yet live? Not even John or Thomas?"

"I sent them back to Brecken before I joined you on the battlefield." Drew paused, trying to read Erec's face. After a moment he pronounced with certainty: "You want to fake your death."

"I think it my best defense. We expected trouble. If only I had expected something of this magnitude. Now because of me, seventeen of our number have died."

"Not true." Drew interjected as he tied the last bit of bandage off. "You nearly died because of the hatred of the king. Those men that we lost? They died doing their duty. Cameron was playing a similar blame game. I had to remind him of the same. Lest we forget the three escaped prisoners?"

"The illusive assassins finally have faces. Rather a bad bit of irony that we had the assassins bound all this time."

"Three faces that I shall not soon forget." Drew shook his head. "And neither will the lady Gwyndolyn, I imagine."

Erec tensed at the reminder of the small woman with the large heart and the healer's touch. Drew's hand rested on Erec's good shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. Erec met his gaze.

"I sent John and Thomas before the battle was fully engaged. They were riding hard and well away before those three escaped. I am confident that they will reach Brecken with warning before any attack can be made. She will be safe. You may trust her to Brecken's protection. And if you do not, John and Thomas will see to it."

"They will ride back here post-haste." Erec argued.

"They will. But not before Brecken is warned."

"Gwyndolyn—"

"Is well and safe. Now if you do not want to die in truth, you must rest."

"I must die." Erec frowned. "You must tell—"

"Erec. Trust me. For now, just rest. I will deal with Cameron and the rest. I will make certain that John and Thomas know where to find me, or rather us, once we send the army on to the king. need to sleep."

With a final stern look, Drew stepped through the privacy curtains and pulled them sharply closed behind him shutting out light and further argument. Erec sighed in helpless frustration and sank into a fitful slumber.

---

Gwyndolyn was grateful for the fast pace that her escorts set. It did not give her time to think about how badly her nether region would hurt on the morrow. Especially since she already hurt plenty by the time that they thought to stop for a midday meal.

"Nay. Please." Gwyndolyn protested as John reached to lift her down. "We must reach them as quickly as possible."

"A few minutes for a midday meal will hardly make a difference."

"Sir John." She began, putting on her sternest face (the one she used on father when he was being difficult about resting his leg properly) "Believe me when I tell you that our delay would be great should we stop just now."

"Milady, I assure you the battle is long since over. I doubt the army shall remain there. By the time we reach the place, the army will be well over the pass. I doubt we shall see anyone until we arrive at the garrison a few days behind them."

"You misunderstand me sir." Gwyndolyn swallowed what remained of her pride and spoke plainly. "If you insist upon removing my person from this horse, we shall not go further this day. For when I consent to be taken down from here, I shall not be to go further."

John's cheeks turned red as he caught her meaning.

"Forgive me, milady. You assured us that you could ride. Indeed, you have done admirably all morn."

"Oh aye. I ride. I can ride quite well for a girl, so my brothers tell me."

John frowned in confusion so she sighed, biting back her frustration

and embarrassment to explain patiently as she was currently able.

"I care for two houses, a farm, four grown men, and a growing boy. There was simply too much work to be done on the farm and then the soldiers took all of our animals last spring. It has been a very long time since I was in the saddle...but never have I ridden for so long a time at once."

"Forgive me my ignorance, my lady." John's face flushed a deeper shade, nearly matching the sanguine color of his surcoat, "I...I am..."

It was never spoken of in polite company, such things as the discomfort of one's nether regions. Especially not between a Knight and a Lady, though she was in truth no lady. Still, to John she was a lady, and betrothed to his captain, no less. Embarrassed enough for the both of them, she extended an olive branch that would allow them both to maintain some of their dignity.

"Sir John," she began with a smile, earning a curious smile in return, "I would like to ride on until there is no light to ride further. I should not like for you to ride more slowly upon my account. If there are soldiers with injuries too severe to ride, there may yet be men where you left them. With so severe an injury, hours may mean the difference between life and death."

His smile grew. Encouraged, she went on.

"I shall deal with any...personal discomfort...later. Men's lives are at stake."

"As you wish my lady." John nodded with a grateful smile and left only to return a moment later.

He held aloft a cloth bundle and when she secured it upon her lap, she saw that it held bread, cheese, and dried apple slices.

"Thank you." She smiled as she reached to accept the waterskin he offered before slipping her head and arm through the strap and securing it at her hip. John gave her knee an encouraging pat and she watched as he returned to his horse and mounted easily. They were off again.

---

"Sir Drew." Cameron greeted with a nod, wiping his hands as he turned away from Bennett, "How fares our good captain?"

Drew frowned.

"I have done all that I know to do. It is in the Lord's hands now."

"He looked in a bad way when we carried him from the field."

"His wounds are severe." Drew nodded toward the resting soldier behind Cameron. "How fares Bennett?"

"Twas difficult, but I think that if he makes it through the night..."

"Bennett is good man. Tis good to hear." Drew nodded, becoming thoughtful. After a moment, he sighed and went on in a near-whisper. Cameron had to lean in to hear. "I am afraid that our captain was not so fortunate. The arrow missed his heart but his breathing...I know not if he will survive the night..."

"I do not think we can move the army for a few days anyway. We yet need to bury the dead, clear the road, and of course there are the injured to tend."

"Aye. Twas my thinking also. Choose men that you trust and double the guard. With our numbers so depleted, I do not wish a repeat. This tribute is too great a prize to leave..."

"If they do come again, their fight will not go so easily for them."

"Good man. I am going back to the Captain. There is not much else that I can do, but I do not wish for him to face his final hours alone..."

Drew turned to go, looking appropriately concerned, stopping at Cameron's hand upon his shoulder.

"I shall pray for him. We all shall. The Captain is a good man..."

Drew nodded. He was grateful that they had taken Cameron and Bennett into their confidence. John and Thomas were gone were gone to Brecken. Gil, Dermot and Bennett were among the wounded. But he still had Cameron to trust.

As he walked back to Erec's tent, Drew felt guilty for making Erec's injuries sound so severe. But it would go better for Cameron if he truly believed that Erec was dead.

---

By the time that it was too dark to ride, Gwyndolyn felt numb from the waist down and was far too weary to ponder how she would fare after a second day of this. John appeared and lifted her down, keeping his hands about her waist. She had no time to wonder why he lingered, keeping a firm hold now that her feet were upon the ground.

She would have collapsed into a mound of sore bones had it not been for John. He stood quietly, watching her a moment more until she nodded that she was good. John smiled and offered his arm as he leaned in to whisper: "Milady, a walk will help to ease the soreness."

Gwyndolyn nodded her thanks and tried not to wince with each step as her aching muscles protested mightily against further exertion. After a little while she was still very sore, but at least she began to regain command over her wobbly limbs.

When at last she indicated that she wanted to return to camp, a pallet of furs was awaiting her. She did not resist as John helped to lower her to them. She was asleep before she could realize the level of soreness that was settling into her bones.

John awoke her early and once again helped her to walk out some of the stiffness. After a quick meal to break their fast, they once again set out at a blistering pace.

---

"Sir Drew." Cameron called respectfully from outside the Captain's tent. "Sir Drew? A word if you would please."

A moment later Drew joined Cameron. Noticing his reluctance to begin, Drew gave a nod.

"The men are getting anxious. They want to be returning to the safety of the garrison before another attack comes."

"That is understandable. We have held here two days. Most of the wounded are fit for travel. The overturned wagon has been repaired and can be used to carry the few that cannot ride. I—I need to show you something."

Drew led Cameron quietly into Erec's tent. Just outside the privacy curtains, Drew paused and leaned toward Cameron to warn in a slightly too-loud whisper: "Prepare yourself."

Then he turned and purposefully moved aside the privacy curtains, revealing their captain, prone upon the cot. His skin was pale. His cheeks were flushed and sweat beaded his brow. Fresh blood blossomed on the bandages upon his shoulder. His breathing was strained.

It was obvious to look upon him, that he was laboring with much difficulty to draw even a shallow breath.

"I do not think that our captain will live to days' end. I am surprised that he lasted the night. The fever set in and I had to restrain him."

"I am sorry." Cameron crossed himself, "We shall offer prayers."

"Prayers are welcome, of course, but I do not think they will help at this point. You are right about the men. I will set you in charge. Take them back to the king. Deliver the tribute. I shall entrust the key and letter to you. Guard them with your life."

"I am aware of the risks that yet remain, though the would-be assassins have left us. I shall see them safe to the king. This I vow to you before God."

Drew set a hand upon Cameron's shoulder and nodded. Dropping his arms to his side, he began.

"Call the lieutenants. I will turn the men over to you tonight. See me in the morning and I will turn over the other items. You leave at first light."

"It shall be done...should you like for anyone to stay with you?"

"Gil? Dermot?"

"They were among the injured but they are mending and able to ride. I shall set them to guard so that you may stay with our Captain until..."

Drew nodded, ending the conversation. Cameron turned out to gather the lieutenants. When he had gone for several moments, Drew turned to Erec.

Erec heaved a deep and gratifying sigh of relief but it turned to a painful coughing fit.

"Careful, Milord. Lest you lend the truth to your deception." Drew whispered as he helped sooth the cough with sips of wine.

"It cannot be helped." Erec said when he was breathing again, "I am only grateful that he did not notice the fresh blood on your newly bandaged palm."

"Did I not tell you that if YOU were convincing enough, that he would NOT notice it? Besides, we needed fresh blood, and I was hardly about to reopen your wound to get it. I only just finished getting the leak plugged."

"I am grateful. I am weak as a kitten from this bloody injury. I do not think that I could stand to lose more blood so soon after."

"I do not think that you could stand...for any reason. So, it is just as well that they think you to be soon dead."

"The army will go to the garrison, but I fear that our enemy will use this opportunity to cause more trouble. Even with the baron's letter, and knights of good reputation like Cameron and Bennett to witness, there are those who twist facts with clever words. We should away to Greenwood as soon as we may safely go."