The Fairest Beauty (13 page)

“I have no doubt that you can defend us all.”

“I can.” She seemed to think he was teasing her.

“I believe you.”

She looked satisfied and placed the crossbow and quiver of bolts back on the ground on her other side.

They lay on their sides, facing each other in silence. Gabe wasn’t sure of Walther’s exact whereabouts, but he was probably close enough he could hear their every word. See,
God? We have our own personal guard. There’s no impropriety
.

She broke the silence by whispering, “Are you in very much pain?”

“I would like to lie and say no, not very much.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s all because of me. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t say that, Sophie.” He could barely see her face, but he had too many sisters not to know that she was crying. There was the telltale hitching breaths and slight sniffling. A bit of starlight reflected off the wetness on her cheeks.

“You never should have taken that arrow for me,” she said fiercely. “You should have let it strike me instead.”

He snorted. “Don’t be silly. I would never have done that.”

She sniffed.

“Sophie, please don’t cry.” He wanted so badly to comfort her, to comfort her as he would his sisters. What could be wrong with that? He reached out with his left hand — which hurt less than he thought it would — and wiped the tears from under her eyes with his thumb. “I’d do it over again. I’d take a hundred arrows for you.” His chest expanded at the truth in his words.

“But why? I’m just a servant girl.”

“You’re not just a servant girl. It would have hurt me far more if the arrow had struck you.”

“Because of your manly pride.”

“Because you’re worth protecting, Sophie. So worth it.”
God help me
.

She made a small sound, like her breath catching in her throat, and closed her eyes.

He should shut up before he said something irresponsible. Pain was clouding his judgment. He’d think more clearly in the morning. Besides, her betrothal to Valten was legally binding, and he couldn’t betray his own brother.

You’re worth protecting. Gabe’s words sank
into Sophie’s heart. That he would take an arrow for her and then say that he would do it again, that she was worth it … Then he had wiped the tears from her eyes.

She tried to stop crying and calm herself, to think of how she should behave. What would Petra say?

Petra was always telling Sophie how a lady should conduct herself. Apparently Petra had lived in the homes of wealthy nobility — although she never spoke of her life before she came to Hohendorf. Petra would probably tell Sophie to pretend she wasn’t crying, pretend she didn’t want to put her arms around him. Pretend she felt what she was supposed to feel, and then the proper feeling would follow.

Petra would certainly tell her that she should pretend her heart didn’t feel as if it were breaking. How could she possibly pretend she only felt what a sister would feel for her wounded brother? “I’m sorry,” she said yet again.

“Please stop saying that. You didn’t do anything to apologize for.”

She mustn’t have feelings for Gabe. He cared about her as a brother would a sister, and she would think of him as a brother and no more.

“I shall tell your family of your bravery. They will be so proud of you.” There. Her voice sounded perfectly calm.

“And they will love you, Sophie. You’ll never feel unloved again.”

Did he know that to have a real family that loved her was her greatest longing? His words made the tears come back, but she didn’t want to cry again. So she closed her eyes and said, “Good night, Gabe.”

“Good night, Sophie.”

Sophie woke up just as the sky was lightening with the coming dawn. She looked at Gabe, who appeared to be sleeping, although she knew he hadn’t slept well. She had woken several times during the night and had seen that he was awake. Once she’d heard him mumbling in his sleep. His shoulder must have been paining him severely. And now his cheeks looked flushed.

She reached over and laid her hand against his forehead. His skin was unnaturally hot.

Fever
.

She got up and retrieved his cup and what was left of his bandages. She ran to the river, dipped both the cup and the cloth in the cold water, then ran back. She sank down beside him.

He blinked up at her.

“Drink this. Then I’m going to bathe your face,” she explained, “to try to bring down your fever.” She had cared for many adults and children with fevers. But she’d never felt quite so desperate before.

He didn’t say anything, only used his right arm to push himself into a sitting position. Then he took the cup from her and drank. Walther was watching them from where he stood saddling the horses.

Sophie began to wipe Gabe’s forehead and cheeks with the
cloth. He closed his eyes, and she could tell he was not well.
O God, please don’t let him die
. Her stomach clenched in fear. Was his fever a precursor?

She applied the wet cloth to his stubbly jaw as Walther walked up beside them.

“Fever, eh? It won’t likely turn putrid for a few days yet.”

A few days? Is that all the time he had?
But perhaps it wouldn’t become diseased at all. Sophie held on to that hope.

“Are you able to ride?” Walther asked Gabe.

“Of course. I am well.” To prove it, Gabe stood up on his own.

Sophie hovered close beside him in case he needed any help.

He glanced down at her and gave her a slight smile. “Thank you.”

She pretended not to notice the warmth she felt at his smile and busied herself with folding the blanket and packing everything away so they could get back on the trail.

“Where are we headed?” Walther asked.

Gabe’s voice sounded a bit strained. “Hagenheim, straight north.”

“Petra said there was a safe place about a day’s ride from here, called the Cottage of the Seven.”

“She told us the same.”

“She gave me some idea as to how to get there. You’ll need to rest there until you’re well again.”

Walther came toward Gabe and Sophie, who were standing next to Gingerbread. Sophie was about to ask Gabe if he needed help mounting his horse, but she didn’t want to insult him. He looked pale, though his cheeks were flushed.

Walther didn’t hesitate, merely knotting his fingers to offer Gabe a step up while saying, “Up you go.” He grunted as he gave Gabe a helpful boost into the saddle. Next, he did the same for her, saying, “Pardon me, Little Sophie,” as he grabbed her about the waist to lift her.

“Thank you,” Sophie said, feeling grim as she settled into the saddle in front of Gabe. Since Gabe only had use of one arm, she held the reins for him. “Are you all right?” she whispered, while staring up at him.

“I’ve felt better, but I’m well, Sophie. Or should I call you
Little Sophie
?” He grinned at her, seeming more like himself.

“I know you don’t feel well. A fever, along with having an arrow go all the way through your shoulder, does not make for a pleasant morning.”

“Oh, I don’t know. At least I have pleasant company.”

She shook her head at his humor and didn’t dare to peek at him again, afraid of what she would see — or not see — in his eyes.

They traveled through more rough terrain, interspersed with flat valleys and meadows. It was cloudy all morning, and Sophie shuddered at the thought of rain.

She paid close attention to Gabe. His head hung lower than normal, almost resting on her. Extra heat radiated from his body, but he didn’t complain. He held on to Sophie with his right hand and held his left hand against his body. Fortunately for Sophie, Gingerbread didn’t seem to need much guidance.

She wanted so much to help Gabe, but she didn’t know how. He’d insisted on strapping the crossbow to his back.

When Sophie glanced back at him at midday, his eyelids were drooping and his face was red. She reached back and touched his forehead, then his cheek. His skin was hot, much warmer than the last time she’d checked.

“Are you feeling very bad?”

“I am well. But I forgot to check your arm this morning.” He spoke haltingly, pausing to take quick breaths. “You probably need … a new bandage. Let me see.”

“My arm is fine.” But she obediently held it up so he could see that there was no blood seeping through the bandage.

“At least it’s not … bleeding.”

“Do you think yours is bleeding again?” He didn’t answer, so she added, “What would your healer say? Would she have stitched the wound closed?” Sophie knew people also sometimes cauterized wounds, using a piece of metal heated in the fire to burn the wound, creating a scar that would close it up and keep it from bleeding. She shuddered inwardly at the thought of such painful treatment.

“I don’t know … Possibly.”

She tried to sound courageous for him. “If there’s anything you need me to do, I will do it.” She remembered how she had hesitated to pull the arrow from his shoulder. But if Walther had not been there, she was sure she could have done that for Gabe. God would have given her the strength.

She pulled out her wooden cross and clutched it tightly in her hand. She prayed silently for God’s mercy on Gabe, that God would heal him as he had healed those who had touched the hem of Jesus’s garment. If God could heal a man born blind, he could heal Gabe’s fever and wound.

She was still praying when Walther stopped, and they all dismounted for their early afternoon meal. Gabe was the last to dismount, and even though Sophie was helping him, he still stumbled. Sophie put her arms around him and let him lean on her.

Even Walther had a worried look on his face as she kept her arm around Gabe and helped him walk away from the horses and sit on the ground. He closed his eyes and lowered himself the rest of the way down to lie on the grass. “I just need … to lie here … for a little … Not hungry.”

Sophie sank down beside him and stroked his feverish forehead, brushing back his hair.

O God, please help us. Please provide a safe place to stop and a healer who can help Gabe. Help us find the Cottage of the Seven and Dominyk the Wise, and please make him able to help us
.

She glanced up at the darkening sky.
And please let it not rain on us
.

Gabe lay on the ground, grateful for the grass underneath him. He knew he was frightening Sophie, but it couldn’t be helped. If he could just rest for a few moments, he felt he could go on and ride the rest of the day, at least until they found the Cottage of the Seven or a place to camp for the night.

Sophie was beside him again, bathing his face. Her gentle touch and the cold water soothed him. He opened his eyes a tiny slit. She hovered above him, and there seemed to be an aura around her, like an angel illuminated by the cloudy sky behind her.

He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

Sophie stroked Gabe’s forehead until she realized he was asleep.

“Sophie,” Walther said, nudging her arm as he handed her a strip of dried deer meat. “Eat.”

She took the food he offered and ate while she watched Gabe, not tasting a thing. She sent up desperate prayers with each slight rise and fall of his chest. They let Gabe rest after they finished eating, Walther stretching out on the grass himself. But finally, he got up and started tying his bag to his saddle. “I could ride ahead and try to find this Cottage of the Seven myself. Then I could come back for you and Gabe.”

Sophie bit her lip. She hated to wake Gabe, but the sooner they left, the sooner they would find help for him and a bed in a warm, sheltered house. She was sure it was about to rain, and she couldn’t let Gabe stay out in that.

She touched Gabe’s face, careful to avoid his bruised cheekbone. He didn’t wake. She glanced behind her and saw that
Walther had gone to relieve himself behind a tree. She bent down and whispered, “Gabe? Can you travel? Or should we send Walther ahead to find the Cottage of the Seven?” Gabe opened his eyes and stared up at her. He raised his hand and caressed her jawline, sending ripples of warmth all through her.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing
.

“Can you travel?” There was no real shelter for them here, and if they could only get to the Cottage —

“I can travel. I can do anything for you, Sophie.”

It was the fever talking. He was half out of his mind with pain. That was why he was looking up at her that way, making her heart ache. “Let’s go, then. Before we get drenched.” She got behind his good shoulder and pushed him into a sitting position, then she helped him the rest of the way to his feet. Walther came and helped them both onto Gingerbread’s back.

As they started on their way, Sophie took the reins again and tugged Gabe’s right arm around her, urging him to relax and lean on her for support. He rested his cheek against the top of her head as Gingerbread followed Walther’s horse.

She felt a few sprinkles around mid-afternoon, but then the rain stopped. She breathed a sigh of relief. But an hour later, the sky let go of the heavy raindrops it had been holding back. Gabe lifted his head and looked down at her. He gave her a lopsided smile when she turned to peer up at him. “It’s raining.”

Even when his eyes were bright with fever, he took her breath away. She lifted her hand to feel his forehead. He didn’t feel as warm as before, but it may have only been because of the cold rain falling on their heads. She was at least encouraged by his smile.

She noticed he was staring at her lips. She turned back around and bowed her head, wrapping his arms more tightly around her. This way she couldn’t see his face and neither of them could do anything foolish.

The rain was coming down steadily as they continued their trek through the heavily forested river valley. Walther didn’t slow their pace for the rain and Gingerbread continued to follow Walther’s black gelding.

Soon Sophie was soaked through. Her hair was plastered to her head and rain ran down her neck, over her face, everywhere. It was getting darker and colder. She wasn’t sure, but Gabe’s fever seemed to have lessened. He wasn’t radiating heat like he had been earlier this morning.

After riding in the rain for at least an hour, they came to the first house they’d seen in days. It was large — two stories — plastered white and painted all over with colorful flowers. The thatched roof looked dense enough to keep out the hardest rain.

Walther turned in his saddle and shouted, “I think this is it!” Rain dripped off his nose and slung off the ends of his hair when he turned.

If indeed this was the Cottage of the Seven, which Sophie prayed it was, it was very large. She hadn’t realized how tired she was, how much her shoulders ached and how miserable her cold, wet clothes felt until she anticipated having a safe place to stop and rest.

Behind her, Gabe began to shiver uncontrollably. Waves of shudders passed through his body.

O God, please let this be the place Petra told us about. Please let them invite us in. And please let there be someone here who will know what to do for Gabe
.

They dismounted and Sophie helped Gabe walk to the door. He was shaking violently, and instead of looking flushed, he now looked pale. Walther knocked.

The door creaked open, but Sophie couldn’t see around Walther’s huge bulk.

“We’re looking for Dominyk the Wise and the Cottage of the Seven.”

“You’ve found both,” the gruff voice answered. “Who sent you? Why are you here?”

The voice seemed to be coming from down low, as if the person were squatting while he talked. Sophie tried to peer around Walther but couldn’t if she wanted to continue supporting Gabe.

“We were sent by Petra at Hohendorf Castle. She said you could offer us a safe place to sleep.” Walther stepped back and gestured toward Gabe. “This is Duke Wilhelm’s son Gabe. He’s injured and needs help.”

Sophie finally saw who had opened the door. It was a man, but he was shorter than any man she had ever seen. She was fairly certain she had heard stories of men like him, who were called dwarfs. He seemed to be about middle age, and he stared up at Walther with a crusty look on his face.

“Petra? How do you know her?”

“She is the cook for Duchess Ermengard of Hohendorf. She and this girl, Sophie, work together.”