“Simon,” Draven said hoarsely. “Tell her I’ll be all right.”
“I think she knows.” He walked Draven toward the castle.
Halfway across the yard, Draven lost consciousness.
Emily led Simon up to her room and helped him lay Draven on the bed to keep his back from being hurt any more than what was necessary.
As gently as she could she washed the blood from him. She frowned at the marred and puckered skin left behind by the beating.
“What did he mean ‘twas like old times?” she asked Simon.
Simon placed Draven’s tunic by the bed. “His father used to beat him like this on a regular basis. When it was over, I would help him back to his bed.”
“Is that why he didn’t cry out?”
“Aye. His father would add five lashes for every sound he made.”
Her heart lurched.
A knock sounded on the door. “Enter,” Emily called.
To her surprise, her father came into the room with a small vial in his hand. “‘Tis a linseed salve. It will help take the sting from his back.”
“Thank you, Father.”
He nodded, then left.
Once she finished Draven’s back, she draped a light cloth over him.
She looked to Simon who stood against the far wall. His face beleaguered and pinched.
“How long will it take to heal?”
Simon sighed heavily. “He’ll be back on his feet by the morrow.”
“Nay!” she gasped in disbelief.
Simon nodded. “He won’t be swift, but he will be up and about.” With one last look at his brother’s sleeping form, he moved for the door.
“Simon?” she asked as he reached for the latch. “Tell me, if you are the one who is illegitimate, why did his father abuse him and not you?”
“He never knew I wasn’t his while I lived in his hall.” Simon cast a look back at the bed. “And it wasn’t from his father’s lack of effort so much as it was from Draven constantly putting himself between us.”
Simon took a deep breath and looked at her. “You know his limp?”
She nodded.
“I was but five and tilting the quintain when I fell from my horse. His father tried to run me down on his horse as punishment for my incompetence. One moment all I saw was his massive warhorse bearing down on me and the next I was lying to the side of the field with Draven beneath the stallion, his leg broken in four places.”
Emily closed her eyes at the horror. She couldn’t imagine how either one of them had borne it.
“How did you learn of your birth?”
Simon shrugged. “Our mother told it to Draven not long before she died. She wasn’t able to contact my father, but she knew Draven traveled enough with his father that he could find someone to send word to my father to come for me.”
“Did he?”
“Aye. My father came for me the day after she died and reared me in Normandy.”
