Then Magnus had two good swings and the upper hand. Parts of the audience began to chant, “Magnus! Magnus! Magnus!”
He swung his blade down, missed, and dazedly looked around at the assembled people, still chanting, “Magnus! Magnus!”
I stood up from my chair.
Magnus wasn’t focused on the fight at all. John Stewart swung his blade down and hit Magnus hard on an unprotected shoulder, causing him to stumble back. John Stewart took his two steps and started to swing again, but at the look on Magnus’s face, he faltered. Magnus looked at his shoulder, a tear on his sleeve, as if he was confused. He took a step back, then another, and dropped his sword to the ground.
No one was chanting anymore. I raced onto the field.
“Magnus! Are you okay?” I checked his shoulder. It was going to have a nasty bruise. “Magnus do you hear me?”
“Och, they were chanting.” His eyes were roaming wildly around the field.
“I know. Focus on my face, look in my eyes.” I brushed the hair from his damp forehead. “I know.” We looked into each other’s eyes. “Focus, breathe. Are you breathing?”
He drew in air and pushed it out. “Aye.”
We continued to look into each other’s eyes until it seemed like he was on top of his breaths. “Are you ready to continue?”
He shook his head. “Nae. I canna...”
“Will you need to forfeit?”
“I hae never done that afore, but aye, I will forfeit.” He strode to the middle of the field to speak to John Stewart and end the match.
I returned to my chair. Mary of Guise asked, “Will Lord Magnus be able to continue the match?”
“No, he can’t, he’s forfeiting.” The older man refereeing their fight announced, “John Stewart is the winner!”
Applause rose from the crowd.
Magnus walked up to Mary of Guise and bowed before her. “My apologies for forfeitin’ the game, your highness. I found m’self unable tae continue.”
“Lord Magnus, you looked as if you were fighting a different battle than the one before you.”
Magnus, with his head bowed, said, “Aye, twas a battle from m’past. I was made tae fight tae the death as a crowd chanted m’name. That battle was playing afore me as if I was dreaming.”
Mary of Guise shook her head sadly. “Lord Magnus, I have felt this myself. Four years ago, at the siege of Haddington, I lost sixteen men around me. Sometimes when I close my eyes I relive the battle. It is difficult to try to rid my mind of that memory.” She smiled consolingly. “I understand. You are forgiven for not continuing the match.”
“Thank you, your highness.”
Magnus came and sat beside me. He tucked in around my arm and squeezed it tight.
I whispered, “I understand all of the reasons you couldn’t go on, and I just want you to know that I love you.”
“I love ye as well, thank ye for helping me find my breath again.”
“You’re welcome, we’re a team, you and I, we’re in this together. And the truth is, you no longer need to prove your sword-fighting skills. Practice fighting is a young man’s game. You have proven yourself, time, and time again. I think that from now on, you need only to throw that big rock in the air. That was fun.”
“You liked watchin’ me do that?”
“Aye, your muscles heaving? Huge fan.” I kissed his forehead. “I truly am your hugest fan.”
“I ken ye are. Somedays tis all that gets me through.” He added, “We begin the journey home tomorrow, are ye glad of it?”
I gave him a sad smile, the ‘home’ part was enough to make me wince. But he knew all the trouble of that word, he was living it with me. We didn’t have to mention it every time, it had been over six months — he knew. These days, except for the occasional bouts that welled up in my tears or his silence, we kept the sadness in the unspoken in-betweens.
I said, “Yes, but I’m glad to be anywhere as long as you’re there too.”
He nuzzled his forehead to my cheek and then we finished our embrace, straightened in our seats, and applauded as John Stewart received his prize.
Fifty-eight - Hayley
Hammond had ordered a hospital tent erected, and I was watching Fraoch get set up in a bed, when Quentin and James rushed across the fields from the clearing. “Miss anything?” Quentin called as he neared.
I stood at the edge of the tent. “You missed everything, fucking everything!”