are. Now, we know the name of your maid Bathilda, but the other chap at Alresford is about twenty-five, medium height, short blond hair, bad teeth and a brown and green tunic. Who’s he?”
“That would be Bebeodan,” said Anne as she drifted into sleep.
“Well, I’ll get the rider to call in at Alresford and find out is he is still alive and also let them know that at Wivenhoe,” said Alan, suddenly aware that he was talking to a person asleep.
The next few days passed in a similar manner. Alan only dispensed poppy juice when really required and then only in small amounts, preferring to use an infusion of chamomile and willow-bark. Alric had returned home and Alan used several different male servants to help carry Anne to the latrine. Anne objected to the daily sponge bath provided by the elderly and authoritative Lynn, but acquiesced when her objections were abruptly overridden by the forceful comments of the housekeeper. “Lord Alan has directed that this is what is to happen, and by God’s breath those are instructions I intend to follow,” she said very firmly. “He said if I didn’t do it he would!”
Alan kept out of the way at those times. However, he did insist on treating the wound to her thigh every day, with the pulling up of the dress to reveal the groin being an issue every time. Finally he had enough and said abruptly, “Lady, you don’t have anything that I’ve not already seen when I’ve been treating you- or otherwise when I have been with other women. Stop your complaining. The wound itches. That’s good and means it is healing. There’s no inflammation or puss, which frankly given the state the wound was in when it was worked on it is a minor miracle and can only be by God’s good grace- there was dirt and cloth fibres and everything in there. I assure you that my seeing a bit of your thigh will not harm your immortal soul or mine. That is why there are these ladies here to assist and watch, and preserve your reputation. Stop fussing and let me work. Lynn, please hold this end of the bandage while I wind the rest in place, and Synne, please support the leg up so I can slip the bandage underneath.” A few minutes later, and after a deep breath Alan continued. “Now for the ribs. It’s several days since I looked at them, so please remove the dress.”
Much to Alan’s surprise all hell broke loose. Anne hid under the bedclothes, shouting various imprecations that Alan had trouble hearing because they were muffled, the ladies gathered about the bed showed clear disapproval in their pursed lips and narrowed eyes. Alan impatiently pulled the quilt down, revealing a crouched- down Anne and shouted, “God’s blood! What is the matter? I’ve seen your breasts before. It’s not as if they are fantastic. Edyth’s are much better.”
That apparently was not the correct thing to say. While Lynn covered a laugh with a cough, and there was a giggle from the doorway behind, where Alan was reasonably sure that Edyth was watching, Anne went absolutely hysterical. “Bastard! Whore-son! Murderer! Pervert! Pederast!” she shouted, showing her versatility by using three languages.
Recognising an argument that he could not win, even if he was successful, Alan stepped back and raised his hands. “Very well, ladies, if it means so much I’ll step outside and you can arrange Anne’s clothes so I can inspect her ribs while whatever she wants remains covered. Lynn, you have the hot water?”
“Well it was hot, probably tepid by now,” replied Lynn as she pulled up Anne’s dress at the back.
“Doesn’t bother me if it is frozen,” muttered Alan as he waited outside, being given a few interested looks and smirks from the men sitting around the fire in the Hall, who had heard the ruckus. A few moments later he returned and penetrated the protective circle around Anne. Anne was sitting up on the bed, with Lynne carefully using a wet cloth to clean her chest where the bandages had bound tightly for the last few days.
As Alan expected her chest was not a pretty picture, a hand-sized patch of dark purple bruising on the left side of her rib cage surrounded by an area the size of a dinner-plate that was bruised various shades of yellow and brown. Anne looked somewhat subdued at seeing the extent of her injury. “Tell me if this hurts,” said Alan, starting gently pressing with his fingertips along the ribs on her back. A couple of minutes later he asked, “No pain from that? Good! Now this is going to hurt.”
He first sounded the ribs on her right hand side and then very gently those on the left. At each touch near the bruised area Anne unconsciously flinched and gasped. “It appears you received a glancing blow from a kick by a horse. These ribs are broken here, here, and here. This one seems to be broken in two places, here and here. I’ll need to bind you up tightly again. Brother Aldwyn put the ribs into alignment before your chest was bound the night you were injured. They seem to be progressing well and a callus is forming on the point of each break, but if there’s any movement they are likely to puncture your lung, so we have to keep them from moving.”
Anne gasped as new bindings were applied. “I can hardly breathe!” she complained.
“Good, I’ve got them tight enough then,” replied Alan laconically. “And that will help keep you quiet”. Anne shot him a look containing daggers. “Now, I’ll need to change the chest bandages every three or four days, mainly for cleanliness. You’ll need them for about three to four weeks. The re-binding of your leg wound stays at once a day, and the stitches will need removal in a couple more days. The weather is better today and I sent a rider early this morning to your manor to let them know where you are and to bring some clothes and a couple of your own servants.”
“Excellent. I’ll be able to thank you for your help and be off your hands then,” replied Anne eagerly.
Alan laughed easily. “I’m afraid not. Brother Aldwyn says you’ll have that splint on your leg for at least eight weeks and it’ll be at least four weeks before you can even travel in a cart. Unless you want to walk like a cripple for the rest of your life you’ll just have to put up with our company for a while yet!”
Just before dark Alan was sitting by the fire in the Hall chatting and drinking ale with some of the local thegns and some of the wealthier freemen when there was a commotion of horses arriving outside. Alan sent his steward Kendrick to see what was amiss, while the Norman sergeant Hugh stirred half a dozen Saxon guards to wakefulness.
Ten men, four better dressed than the others, and two women were ushered into the Hall by Kendrick- who indicated to the men that they should remove their swords according to custom and place them with the others in a rack near the door. Each visitor was well-rugged up against the cold in cloaks and furs, but their faces were pinched and red from being bitten by the wind. The eldest of the thegns said, “I’m Wulfgar. This is Aelfhare, Aethelwulf and Esmund. Your man tells us that our Lady Anne rests here. We have come, by your leave, to spend the night and take her home on the morrow.”
Alan leaned across and whispered in the ear of the cheorl Godfrith, with whom he had been dining, “What is it with you English and the elves? Judging by the names, half the male population seems to be related to elves.” He then he spoke up. “I’m Alan, lord of this demesne. My other guests tonight are thegns Eadwold and Brctsi and cheorl Godfrith. Kendrick! Have Lynn provide our guests with mulled ale and food and show them a place by the fire. Welcome you are, but if you wait to take your lady home, you will have a long wait. It’ll be four weeks before she’s fit to travel as she was sore hurt by her encounter in the forest. If a dozen of you stay the month in this Hall I dare say you may wear out your welcome, but I am sure we can find room for the two maids and a couple of men, and that Lady Anne will be pleased to have some of her own folk tend her.”
Wulfgar frowned as he unclipped his cloak and shook off the dampness before setting it by the fire to dry. “And where is our lady?” he asked, looking around the Hall, barely illuminated by the light of the fire and half a dozen rush torches.
Alan replied’ “In the bed-chamber.” He received a threatening glance from Wulfgar. “I told you she’s sore hurt and she needs bed-rest. She’s probably asleep by now, but you and the two maids… what are your names? Udelle and Esme? Fine! You may enter and see her to reassure your minds. One of the girls can sit with the lady instead of Synne, whose turn it was tonight.”
Wulfgar returned a few minutes, quite apologetic. “I’m sorry. We didn’t know how badly she was injured. We thank you for your care of her and indeed for her rescue. What happened?” Alan waited until Wulfgar and the others had taken a seat by the fire and started to eat and drink before he gave an abbreviated version of events. “It’s fortunate you happened along,” said Wulfgar. “These footpads are a curse on the countryside and are worse on the byways now that the Normans at Colchester are regularly patrolling the main roads, forcing the bandits onto the by-ways.”
“I intend to do something about those in that forest. The bodies of the bandits we killed have been shown about and the local hunters and poachers questioned We think we know who they are, and where may be their several hiding places. I intend to root them out in a few days time and to decorate the hanging-tree at Alresford.”
Wolfgar nodded his agreement and then changed the subject. “Lady Anne asks if she can have some more of that potion that you have that takes away pain?”
Alan shook his head. “I’m afraid not. The priests tell us a little pain is good for the soul, but the main reason
