Free The Dunston Blade by John Daines

escort Lady Tania back for the Tournament. We shall be travelling with Lord Robert’s party but I am to guard
    Lady Tania.”
    John leapt off the block and grabbed Carac. “You guard her well or you will have to answer to me,” they both laughed and walked back inside the Castle.
    II
    Roger woke gradually, he was contented as he lay next to the warm body of Laila. He looked at her loose curls laying on the pillow, he was happy and at
    peace with the world. Suddenly there was a loud pounding on the door of the little cottage.
    “All right, don’t break the door down, I’m coming.” Roger pulled on his trousers and walked from the bedroom to the front door, opening it he found one of
    the guards standing there.
    “Sorry to wake you but we have a seriously injured man at the gate who says you can vouch for him. I was going to turn him away as it looks like battle
    wounds and he’s not got long to go, but he insists he knows you.”
    “All right I will come with you.”
    They hurried off to the gate where they found two men with an old cart standing by the entrance. On the bed of the cart lay a man covered by a sack. Roger
    bent over the cart and looked at the face of the man who lay there, he immediately recognised him.
    “Roland!” Roger exclaimed. The man made no movement, Roger could see he was still alive though badly wounded. “Take him to the Priory at once, I will come
    and raise the Prior.”
    The two men, pulling the cart, followed Roger, who rushed into the building shouting out for the Prior. Prior Clement was skilled in the art of healing and
    was soon at the side of the injured man. “He is very badly wounded and I am afraid my skills may not save him,” he said, as he inspected Roland’s cuts and
    a large hole below his ribs caused by a lance or spear. Roland was still unconscious at this stage and Roger could see that his breathing was shallow and
    irregular.
    “I will be grateful for whatever you can do,” said Roger. The Prior called one of the monks to him.
    “This is Brother Joseph who is more experienced than I, he will do his best, and with God’s help, try to save his life.”
    Roger stayed in the room while Brother Joseph went to work, the Benedictines were well known for their value as doctors. The monk worked on Roland for a
    considerable time and at last stood back, washed his hands and turned to Roger saying, “I have done all I can, but the stomach wound has damaged internal
    organs which I can do nothing for.”
    “I thank you for what you have done,” said Roger
    “He is still unconscious, and may not come round at all, time will tell. I am going to chapel now and we will pray for him.”
    Roger thanked the monk again and stood by the table where Roland had been placed, two monks appeared and without a word moved Roland to a small cell,
    placed him on the bed and left. Roger sat by the bed and looked at Roland, he remembered the good, and some bad, times they had had together. He was a good
    companion, thought Roger but too much fighting can only end like this. Later that evening Brother Joseph came to see how Roland was, he told Roger that the
    biggest danger was infection in the wounds, although he had removed several pieces of cloth from the hole in his stomach there could be some still there.
    The monk had only been gone for a few minutes when Roland opened his eyes. He was disoriented and asked where he was and who was Roger. Gradually his
    senses seemed to clear and he spoke to Roger.
    “Is that you Roger? Am I hurt badly old friend, I can’t feel much.”
    “ You have some bad wounds Rolly but you are in good hands, the Benedictines are looking after you. Were you at Evesham?”
    “ Yes,” murmured Roland. “I fell foul of some of Sir Cedric of Wymondham’s men and they overpowered me. I thought I was going to die there then. There was
    a young Squire who could have finished me off but for some reason stopped before the fatal blow.”
    Roland fell silent and his