door.
"I bumped into a table while still standing. It seemed heavy -
solid oak, I think. If we rammed the door with it, we might be able to break it down," Osgoode panted.
"Aye," Balan agreed, thinking it worth a try. The two men crawled silently away from the door,finding the table easily. It was indeed solid and heavy. They turned it on its side and each knelt by its legs; Osgoode at the back and Balan at the front, staying as close to the floor as possible until they had to rise and charge forward.
"I will count to three," Balan said. "At three, take a deep breath and then stand and charge the door."
Osgoode's answer was another coughing fit. Balan started to count, had to pause at two to cough, then gritted his teeth and shouted, "Three!"
He did not suck in a deep breath. Afraid he would fall into another coughing fit, he took as shallow a breath as he could, held it and rose up to charge. They had taken three steps and nearly reached the door when it was flung open and he heard Murie shout, "Husband!"
He tried to stop their forward momentum, but Osgoode had no idea what was before them and wasn't slowing. Balan shouted a warning to his wife, but it was too late. There was a cry of pain as they rammed into her, then the faint form he'd barely been able to see through the light gray smoke by the door disappeared under the table as they ran her over.
"You are not getting up."
Murie made a face at her scowling maid.
"I am fine, Cecily," she muttered, pushing the linens and furs away and slipping her feet off the bed.
"You are not fine," Cecily argued. "You got yourself run over by two men and a table."
"Two men with a table bumped into me and knocked me to the ground," she corrected with exasperation. "All I have is a little lump on the head."
"Gatty had to stitch you up," her maid reminded her, as if she might have forgotten that painful experience. It had been more painful than gaining the injury itself.
In truth, Murie only had a vague recollection of the actual event. She'd raced that horse down to the village, left him by Balan and Osgoode's mounts, and rushed to the door of the cottage. It had been jammed shut, a heavy piece of wood stuck firmly into the dirt and wedged against it so well that it had taken some effort for her to remove it. She'd heard shouting inside as she'd worked at the wood, and also coughing. The shouting had reassured her at first, but the coughing that followed was so violent and deep and wretched that it had erased her relief and left her frantic to free her husband and his cousin from what could have been their fiery tomb.
Finally freeing the wood, she'd thrown the door open and called out as she started inside .. . and the next thing she knew, a great misshapen mass hurtled out of the smoke at her. Murie hadn't had time to even raise her hands in front of her, let alone step out of the way. One moment she was running forward; the next, the entire front of her body was vibrating with pain, and she was hurtling toward the ground.
Murie had been told that Balan and Osgoode had tossed the table aside and rushed to her at once. Her husband had lifted her in his arms, mounted his horse and ridden for the castle as if the devil were on his heels - though it was actually only Osgoode. The two men had passed Anselm and his soldiers on their way down to the village without even slowing to explain, but there'd apparently been little to explain. The head wound she'd received had bled copiously, and her face was covered in gore. Anselm and the men had turned at once to follow their lord to the keep. According to Juliana, who'd told her that tale with wide anxious eyes, once in the bailey everyone thought Balan would ride his mount right up the keep stairs and into the great hall to get her inside. Gatty had apparently been so sure of this that she'd rushed up from the wagons to throw the keep doors open for him. But he'd brought his mount to a rearing halt at the foot of the steps and leapt off, shouting for Gatty to follow as