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The roar of battle and ringing of steel against steel have long since faded, but all around me the moans and cries of the wounded continue. Knights and foot soldiers alike stain the ground beneath them with their life's blood. The surgeon performs the grisly work of removing limbs that cannot be saved or sewing together deep gashes left by sword or lance, while my ladies and I do all we can with lesser wounds, ripping petticoats for bandages, providing water for drinking and cleaning, soothing with soft hands and calm words. A pile of gored and bloodied arrowheads sits nearby, but recently removed from stalwart English bodies.
"My lady, he comes."
Wiping my brow with the back of my arm, I rise from applying a splint to a leg broken by the fall of a wounded horse to look in the direction Sophie points, my view obstructed by soldiers helping their brothers-in-arms in hope of succour. In the distance, though, I hear hoofbeats and my heart thrills. Making my way betwixt the wounded, I offer only swift words of encouragement in my distraction, eager to see his beloved face, desperate to hear from his own lips that all is well and he is returned to me unharmed. My pace quickens as the sounds of the approaching steed grow nearer. A voice beckons me from afar but I pay it no heed.
Finally, over a rise to the west, he comes, and my heart catches in my breast.
Still in chainmail and armour and clutching his shield, he rides with grace and glory. The fading sun lights from behind, fixing a halo about his person and burnishing his golden locks to a fiery crown. A sob of relief and exultation spills from my lips as my feet stumble over the uneven ground, knowing naught but a resounding need to make immediately to him.
"Henry!"
Swathed in mud, he dismounts and, letting loose the reins, charges as swiftly to my side as I to his.
"Catherine." No more than this passes between us before I am in his arms and he in mine. His lips find my own and I am drinking his breath, giving him mine, and all else quietens. No moans of agony from the hundreds around us, no squawks of feasting from the scavenging crows already bloating on the bodies of the dead - nothing but the thundering of my heart and his.
"Thank God Almighty and all His angels." I cross myself before searching his person. "You are not harmed?" There is blood spattered on his hauberk but I find no wound which would give it cause.
"No," he denies, taking my searching hands and raising them to his mouth. "No, my love, my wife, I am not harmed. Nothing that washing this foul stench of battle and a full belly will not cure, save seeing your beloved visage once more."
We embrace once more before duty again tears us apart, he to attend his men and I to the wounded. "I will seek you out as soon as may be," he vows, the promise in his eyes as much as on his lips. My heart, lighter and joyous at his safety, flutters nonetheless as he turns and mounts his horse, casting me a loving glance as he leaves.
---
Day turns to night then again to day before our paths cross next. I have spent all of the forenoon and much of after overseeing the moving of the wounded to shelter about the nearby town, then sent maids about to find as much food as they can accommodate with which to feed those able to take nourishment. Many souls have been lost overnight but a great many more are safe in God's hands, for which I give thanks.
The men from our lands in Exeter are housed to the northern end of the township and it is here I encounter my husband when I arrive to seek word of how they fare. He stands before each man one at a time, thanking them for their fealty and praising their valour in the field of battle, for each a kind word and a grateful look. Though I could join him, I choose to remain in the shadows, knowing with what reverence they look upon him and how proud they are to receive his praise. He is a kind and just master to all and my heart swells to see him thus.
Once he has assured they have food and water to nourish them, he comes to my side. "We are found lodging just east aways, my lady wife. May I accompany you there?"
"My lord husband," I smile, reaching for his arm, "I would be honoured."
We repair to the humble rooms found us and partake of a hearty meat broth, and though the bread is hard and rough, dipped in the mix it is easier to swallow.
"What will become of our wounded men?" I ask once our bellies have been filled and the maids repaired elsewhere.
"They fought with courage and fortitude in my name," he replies, "and I will not see them forsworn. If they cannot tend the land, we will find them other tasks more suited to their skills. None shall suffer for paying me allegiance."
I sigh, for though I know he will keep his word, still it will be a tough time for their wives and families. I make a note in my mind to find work within the manor house for those I can.
"And what of you, Catherine?"
Puzzled, I kiss the palm curling around my cheek. "What of me? I am well, as you see."
"Truly, I do see, but also that you have worked tirelessly this whole time, often without thought of food or rest I have no doubt, for I know the goodness of your heart."
"Would you have me propose less effort to our cause than you yourself do offer?" I ask.
"Nay, my love," he shakes his head in answer. "Your courage and kindness are without question; 'tis simply concern for your person gives rise to my enquiry."
Taking his hand in both of mine, I press my lips softly to his rough palms and hasten to assure him. "Stay your worries, my lord husband, for I have been most fervent in care for my person." With gentle fingers I wipe aside a lock of hair that has fallen over his forehead, then run through his neat beard and look deep into eyes as warm and clear as Midsummer skies. "And for the care of your heir."
And taking his hands once more in mine, I lay them down over my stomach, where lies the seed of his loins. His gasp sounds softly, almost unheard over the crackle of flames in the fireplace behind us.
"Catherine! You carry our child? You should not be here at the battlefield!" He rises swiftly, alarmed, and I rise as quickly to offer calm.
"I knew not of my condition before we left Exeter, but it matters not, Henry." He looks set to argue but I take his arm. "I would be with you, my love, and with our men, rather than languish at home sick with worry of your health. Do not take upset, I beseech you. I do all within my means to ensure your child is safe from harm, I swear." Though his manner illustrates his concern, my many assurances finally allay his fears and his arms at last surround me tenderly, wrapping me in comfort. He presses soft kisses about my face and neck and I stand soft and pliant within his embrace, well content to be at his side.
"I love you, Kate."
At his whispered words, my heart swells with joy and I send thanks again to the God who brought me this worthy man. "I love you, Henry."
