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M en had been trickling into the great smoky hall of Wark Castle for most of the night, telling tales of the battle in Coldstream.

There was a big clash going on between wily reivers and an English army, but Maitland and Jordan were ready for the results.

At least, Jordan was. Maitland truly had no idea what to expect, but she faced it bravely.

So she thought.

The first men returning from the battle had fairly serious wounds, indicative of the brutal level of fighting.

One man returned missing several fingers on his right hand and his companion had found those fingers, presenting them to Jordan to sew back on again, but she couldn’t do it.

No one could reattach fingers or limbs. Calmly, she had the man toss the fingers in the fire, and the smell of burning flesh began to fill the great hall where the wounded were gathering.

Maitland smelled the acrid, oily smell but she had no idea what it was until one of the soldiers told her.

Sick to her stomach and trying not to think about burning fingers, she was focusing on cleaning and bandaging some of the less serious wounds.

Truth be told, she didn’t have any experience at all tending wounded, as she’d never been involved in an active siege or battle.

This was all quite new to her, but rather than become fearful or upset at the bloodied men around her, she simply focused on what needed to be done.

Men needed help and she was determined to render aid.

But then, more men started filtering in.

Now, there were about twenty men and only two women and a few servants to tend them.

Maitland left the hall briefly to go rouse her companion, Tibelda, and brought the woman into the hall to help.

Tibelda was calm and helpful, and it was she who began to oversee the boiling of linen strips, taken from servants who had stripped off some bed linens, to be dried before the fire and then used to bandage the myriad of battle wounds they were seeing.

Still, it was just three women and several servants for all of the wounded they had, and Maitland thought that Lady Adelaide should, indeed, be part of this.

She’d been bold enough to announce that she would be chatelaine of Wark Castle someday, and part of those duties would include tending her husband’s wounded.

Her husband.

Thinking of Thomas as the woman’s husband brought disappointment anew to Maitland.

She had no right to feel this way. It was foolish!

She’d spent the better part of the night trying not to think about the union between Thomas and Adelaide, but the more she tried not to think of it, the more she couldn’t seem to shake it.

Something inside her was changing.

Until she’d met Thomas de Wolfe, Maitland had never entertained the thought of marrying again much less marrying someone she could actually like.

She hadn’t liked Henry. In fact, towards the end of their marriage, she couldn’t even stand the sight of him.

When he would bed her, it was all she could do not to become physically ill and she thanked God that their union hadn’t produced any children.

But to actually be married to someone she liked and respected…

well, she’d never allowed herself to entertain such a thought.

She never wanted to get her hopes up.

And now, she’d met a man she genuinely liked, but he was too far out of her reach.

A de Wolfe, in fact. Maitland felt rather sorry for Thomas, knowing he was about to marry a woman he couldn’t stand.

She could very much relate to that. But there was nothing she could do about it, though she was coming to wish she could.

Life was a cruel thing, sometimes.

Telling Lady de Wolfe she would return very shortly, Maitland fled the hall and rushed up the stairs to the keep, which was heavily manned.

The soldiers allowed her to pass and the keep entry was unbolted for her.

Inside the cold, dark entry, she had to ask the soldier stationed inside the keep where Lady Adelaide was but the man didn’t know.

He simply pointed to the top floor, assuming she was in the master’s chamber, and Maitland made her way up the narrow spiral stairs until she reached the top floor.

It was dark and spooky on this floor, and there were two heavily-fortified doors, and she knocked on the first one, which was opened after a few knocks to reveal Caria and her nurse.

Caria wanted to know where “Matha” and “Poppy” were, and Maitland pacified the child by telling her they would come to her shortly.

After the nurse shut the door again and bolted it, Maitland went to the second door and rapped on it several times.

When a man demanded to know who had come, she answered truthfully.

She expected the door to open, but it didn’t.

She had to knock several more times and invoke the name of Lady de Wolfe before the bolt was finally thrown.

Edmund de Vauden’s sweaty face appeared in the cracked doorway.

“What does Lady de Wolfe want?” he asked suspiciously.

Though Edmund’s face was filling up the doorway, Maitland caught a glimpse of the cowering lady in the background.

“Lady Adelaide’s presence is required in the hall,” she said evenly. “We have several wounded and Lady Jordan requests that Lady Adelaide join us.”

Edmund was extremely hesitant as Adelaide came forward. “But I do not know anything about tending wounded,” she said, sounding panicked. “I cannot stand the sight of blood.”

Maitland fixed on her. “Being chatelaine of a great fortress is not only about selecting the proper cook or scheduling the right parties during the right season,” she said.

“Being the wife of a great warlord means that you must know something of the tending of the wounded of his army. If you do not know, then you should come and learn. You cannot fail Sir Thomas when he will need you the most. Now, come along, my lady. Time is wasting.”

Adelaide looked at her with big, terrified eyes, turning to look at her father to see what his take was on all of this. Edmund continued to appear very hesitant, but there was truth in what Maitland said and he knew it.

“If Lady Jordan has summoned you, then you must go,” he told her. “Go and do as you are told.”

Adelaide panicked. “But Papa!”

Edmund opened the door wide. “You will not disobey,” he said. “Go, child. The nun is correct. This is your duty.”

Adelaide was beside herself as her father all but shoved her out of the chamber. She nearly crashed into Maitland who, in fact, had to put a hand out to stop her from tripping. The door slammed and was bolted from the inside, leaving Maitland and Adelaide out in the corridor.

“But… I know nothing of this,” Adelaide was starting to get teary-eyed. “I am afraid!”

“Of what?” Maitland said, grabbing the woman by the arm and pulling her towards the stairwell. “There is nothing to be afraid of. All you have to do is follow instructions. You can do that, can’t you?”

Adelaide was dragging her feet as Maitland practically yanked her down the stairs. “But what shall I do?”

“Anything Lady de Wolfe tells you to do,” Maitland said, tugging her down the last few stairs. “You can sew. Mayhap you shall sew gashes. Lady de Wolfe said you were quite skilled. I am sure you will stitch them up quite nicely.”

Adelaide turned a sickly shade of white and tried to grab on to the wall as Maitland pulled her down another flight of stairs.

“I shall vomit,” she hissed. “I shall become ill if I have to sew a man’s flesh.”

Maitland didn’t say anything until they came to the bottom of the stairs. Then, she paused, looking Adelaide in the eye.

“When your father pledged you to a great warlord, what did you think your life would be?” she asked. It wasn’t a catty question, but an honest one. “Did you not think that you would have to help your husband at some point?”

For the first time since their association, Adelaide’s guard seemed to be down. “Help him?” she repeated. “Of course I would help him. I would keep his house and hold, and ensure our visitors were graciously attended. Everyone would be greatly impressed. That is helping him.”

Maitland nodded as she began to walk again, pulling Adelaide along. “Aye, that is helping,” she agreed. “But he is a de Wolfe. Battle is what he knows, my lady. You cannot marry the man without marrying the part of him that is a warrior, too. Did you not realize that?”

Adelaide was less resistant at that point, or Maitland was simply pulling harder.

In either case, Adelaide was walking a little faster, without dragging her feet.

It was true that she had looked to the House of de Wolfe as something prestigious and nothing more.

Certainly, she realized the de Wolfes were battle lords, but it had honestly never occurred to her that she would be expected to take part in anything related to battle.

But she wouldn’t admit it.

“Was your husband a warrior, then?” she asked Maitland. “Is this something you have done before?”

Maitland shook her head. “My husband was a knight, but he never participated in a battle the entire time we were married,” she said. “However, I fostered at Alnwick. I know what is expected of a military fortress. It is the nature of things.”

They were heading down the stairs now beneath the cold, bright moon. “I fostered at Durham,” Adelaide said. “I was under the care of the chatelaine, Lady de Salvin. She taught me everything fine that I should know. She did not teach me how to stick needles in men’s wounds.”

“Then you are about to learn.”

Down in the inner bailey now, they were heading towards the outer bailey and the great hall when Adelaide suddenly yanked her arm from Maitland’s grip and came to a halt.

“I will not do it,” she declared. “I will not be expected to stick needles in men and wipe their bloodied noses. That is for physics and servants and soldiers to tend, but not me. I will not do it!”