“Really?” Elora gasped and threw her arms around Mace’s shoulders, sighing, “Thank you!” Then she stepped away from him, her cheeks burning.
Mace laughed softly. “You’re welcome,” he murmured and put a hand to her back, escorting her toward the campgrounds.
Elora halted and faced him, clasping her hands to her neck as if praying. “You won’t tell Edward?”
The side of Mace’s lip quirked up. “He’d run me through. If I take you there, I’m as guilty as you.”
Elora nodded in agreement. Two accomplices. Edward would be as mad at Mace as he was with her.
Mace tucked her arm beneath his and started across the field toward the campgrounds.
Elora couldn’t help her rapid stride. Her rushed steps practically dragged Mace along with her. She knew the way but didn’t want Mace to know that. With that realization, she slowed her walk and let Mace lead her. But his pace wasn’t fast enough. Her fingers dug into his arm in anxiety. How badly was Julian injured? Her heart pounded with concern.
The sound of the crowd in the arena faded as they entered the campgrounds. They passed brightly colored pavilions. The clang of knights practicing with swords rang out from an area farther down the river. As they hurried by a pavilion, the thick scent of cooking meat from a campfire surrounded them.
Elora looked at Mace. “It was kind of you to let Julian borrow your lances.”
Mace chuckled. “I had purely selfish reasons. I wanted to see him unhorse Osmont. I have to admit when I heard he was jousting without a shield, I believed he would lose.” He shook his head. “I was pleasantly surprised.”
“He’s good.”
“He’s very good. Edward doesn’t know what he is up against.”
Elora knew Edward and Julian would soon joust, and trepidation snaked through her. Who would she root for?
Julian’s plain cloth tent came into view, erasing all thought but his injury. Gilbert stood outside, looking into the open flap; he still held Storm’s reins. Beside Gilbert, two men peered into the tent that Elora didn’t recognize.
She released Mace’s arm and rushed to Gilbert’s side. He lifted a concerned gaze to her. They locked stares for a moment before Gilbert shook his head.
Storm neighed. Elora put a calming hand against the horse’s nose before stepping past Gilbert. One of the other men caught her arm, preventing her from entering the tent. She looked at his hand and then lifted an imperious gaze to his. After a moment, he released her, and she entered.
Muted darkness was interrupted by daylight from the open flap. Baldwin stood beside Julian with his arms crossed. Julian sat on a straw mattress. His chainmail and gambeson were off, revealing his muscular torso. His moist skin glistened in the rays of sunlight from the entrance. He bent forward; his long, dark hair fell over his face. Another man with cropped brown hair and a light tunic knelt at his side, inspecting his arm.
For a moment, Elora stood in the opening, afraid to move forward. Julian’s hands balled into fists on his legs, his body rigid. As the brown-haired man probed his left shoulder, Julian’s teeth clenched, and his eyes closed in agony.
When the man gripped Julian’s left wrist and began to lift it, Julian barred his teeth and yanked his arm away, clutching it to his side.
Baldwin shook his head. When he noticed Elora standing in the opening, he moved to her. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Elora didn’t take her stare from Julian. Worry sent tingles racing across her shoulders. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Don’t know. He can’t move his arm up. It seems to be his shoulder.”
Shoulder?Elora snapped her gaze to Baldwin.
“He can’t joust like this,” Baldwin whispered.
“His shoulder?” she echoed with newfound hope. She whirled and left the tent, searching for Mace. “Mace!” She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the tent. “Help him,” she pleaded.
“Me?” Mace asked, shocked. “I’m no physician.”
Elora faced Mace. “You helped Edward when he was wounded with a shoulder injury. Help Julian.”
“I know nothing about his injury. If I guess wrong, it could be disastrous for him.”
“He’s in pain. Just like Edward. Please, Mace. At least look at him.”
Mace sighed. He nodded, glanced at Gilbert, and ducked beneath the flap to enter. Elora stood in the opening, staring at Julian, and praying Mace could help him.
