Sir Udolf first.
'Mistress, look!' She pointed to where the fallen man lay.
'Is he alive, Fyfa?' the younger woman asked, her bright blue eyes curious. 'I hope he is alive. It has been some time since I have had a man to amuse me.' She peered closely. 'His clothing is good. See what is in his pockets. Does he carry a money pouch? It's been so long since I've had any coin of my own.'
'Mistress, this is not wise,' she said nervously.
'Do as I bid you, Fyfa!' the younger woman commanded in a hard voice.
The serving woman bent down and rifled through the fallen man's clothing. She found one small pouch containing some silver coins and three coppers. 'Here,' she said, handing them up to her mistress. 'It isn't much.'
The man groaned suddenly, and Fyfa jumped up with a little shriek.
'Oh, he's alive!' the young woman said. 'Good! We must get him to the cottage if we are to keep him alive. You stay with him. I will go back and fetch Rafe.'
'Mistress,' Fyfa quavered. 'I do not think this is wise.'
'You never think what I do is wise, Fyfa,' the younger woman replied, and then she tripped off.
The man groaned again, and his eyes opened. 'Where… am I?'
'Do not move, sir,' Fyfa responded. 'You have been injured. We are getting help now. How came you here?'
'Where is my… horse?' Sir Udolf asked.
'There was no horse when we found you,' Fyfa said.
'The storm…'
'Is long gone, sir. It was yesterday afternoon, and a fierce storm it was,' Fyfa replied. 'Did the storm frighten your beast? Did it throw you?'
Sir Udolf tried to remember, and his brow furrowed. Then he nodded. 'Aye.'
'When we get you safe to the cottage I'll send Rafe to seek it. If you are a fortunate man we will find your horse, sir,' she told him.
'Where am I?' he asked her again.
'Near my mistress's cottage. She has gone to get help. We have a man to do heavy chores. He is simple- minded, but willing and strong of back,' Fyfa said. 'She is fetching him so we may get you back to the cottage in order to treat your wounds, sir. It appears that you hit your head on yon rock. See. There is blood.'
He turned his head, and pain shot through him. He groaned. 'I may have broken a bone,' he said.
'Will you permit me to check for such an incident, sir?' Fyfa asked him.
He nodded. His head hurt him, and he was helpless. 'What is your name?' he asked the woman, who, from her appearance, was a servant.
'Fyfa, sir,' she responded. Her hands moved gently over him. 'I believe you have dislocated a shoulder and possibly broken your left arm.' Her hands moved carefully over his torso, and he winced. 'Bruises, I'll wager, nothing more,' she assured him, 'but all in all 'tis not too bad.'
'I'm hot,' he said. 'Have you any water?'
Fyfa put her hand on the man's forehead. He was burning up with fever, and had obviously caught an ague lying out all night in the damp. 'Nay, I have nothing with me, but it will not be long, and Rafe will get you to safety. Might I know your name, sir?'
'Sir Udolf Watteson,' he replied.
They waited silently then until her mistress and Rafe came for them.
'Be careful of Sir Udolf,' Fyfa told the big dull-witted serving man. 'His left shoulder is dislocated, and the arm may be broken. Be gentle, Rafe,' she cautioned.
Rafe nodded and then picked the injured man up as gently as he could. The wounded man cried out and then fainted. Rafe trotted back to the large cottage with his burden, looking to his mistress for further directions.
'Put him in the little bedchamber,' she said, licking her lips. Then she turned and looked at Fyfa. 'You obtained his name?'
'He is Sir Udolf Watteson, but that is all I know,' Fyfa said.
'Time enough for the rest of his story,' the young woman said. 'Go and tend to his wounds, Fyfa.'
'I will need your help, mistress,' Fyfa said. 'We must get him out of his clothes to gain the true measure of his wounds.'
The younger woman nodded. 'Very well,' she said.
Together the two women entered the little bedchamber where Sir Udolf had been set upon a small bed. There was no help for it but to cut his clothing off.
'Burn them, Fyfa. They stink. We'll have to bathe him after we've examined him. Pull his right boot off. I'll remove the other.'
Fyfa threw Sir Udolf's soiled garments into the hearth. Rafe had been told to take a horse and see if he could find Sir Udolf's own animal. Perhaps there would be a change of clothing in his saddlebags. If not, they would have to find something for him. For now the unconscious man needed to be washed and tucked beneath the coverlet. And then Fyfa thought she would have to make some kind of a brew to take down his fever, get his shoulder relocated, and put a splint on his arm.
'His manhood is quite nicely proportioned,' the young woman noted. 'When he is well enough I shall avail myself of it.' Reaching out, she fondled Sir Udolf, her elegant fingers sliding up and down its length. Her dainty hand slipped beneath the man to cup his balls in her palm. 'They are a bit smaller than I would have anticipated, but then he is injured, and his cock shows promise.' She chuckled, releasing her hold on the now stiff fleshy rod. 'Let us heal him quickly, Fyfa. I will leave him to you now,' she said, and departed the tiny chamber.
The serving woman fetched a warmed cauldron of water from the cottage's hearth, some rags, several jars, and two pieces of wood. She set to worked bathing Sir Udolf as best she could. When she had finished she put her knee into his shoulder and pressed down hard, and to her relief it snapped back into place. She poultice the arm to help it heal before binding the two short pieces of wood to it. Fortunately the bone had not come through the skin of his arm, but she had been able to see the damage before she bandaged it. It was not likely the arm would be of much use to him again even if it did heal. Then she managed by pulling and rolling him to get him beneath he coverlet. He stirred and opened his eyes as she began to draw the curtains about the bed to keep the draft from him.
'Where am I?' he rasped.
'You fell from your horse, Sir Udolf, but you are now safe in my mistress's cottage. I have bathed and tended to your injuries. I am going to get you a soothing draft to drink now. It will help you to sleep, and sleep will heal you.'
'Fyfa,' he said. 'Your name is Fyfa.'
'Yes, my lord,' she said, and then she left the small chamber.
She had left the curtains half-open. He scanned his surroundings. A cottage, but not a servant's or peasant's cottage. That kind of cot would have had just one or two rooms. There would not have been a chamber, however small, for a guest. Nor a bed with hangings. He became aware of himself suddenly. He was naked beneath the coverlet. His arm was poulticed and splinted and while sore his shoulder seemed back where it should be. He shivered beneath the coverlet and, closing his eyes, dozed fitfully until the door to the little chamber opened and Fyfa returned carrying a steaming mug.
'I've fixed you a nice cup of broth with some healing herbs mixed into it,' she said and, drawing up a stool, she began to feed it to him. She didn't mention that she had also added a sleeping draft. Sleep was the best medicine for his injuries, and for the ague he had contracted out on the moor in the pouring rain.
'Whose cottage is this?' he asked her, speaking between bites.
'My mistress will tell you all you need to know on the morrow, my lord,' Fyfa told him. 'You are safe, and Rafe has returned. I am sorry, but he was not able to find your horse anywhere. The storm obviously sent it into a long gallop.' She continued to feed him until the mug was empty and his eyes were beginning to droop.
'I am tired,' Sir Udolf said.
Fyfa stood up. 'Then I will leave you to sleep, my lord.'
He watched her go, and while he needed to know where he was and who the mistress of this small house was, he accepted that with a broken arm he was helpless for now. He would have to wait a bit longer to claim Alix, but
