Sir Willem Byrdsall was once the proud captain of the Queen’s Guard. Now he’s retired, struggling with an old injury that never healed right, and feeling every one of his forty-two years. Never married, his closest family is his sister and his ailing niece Alice. When physicians give up hope and predict that the next winter might be the little girl’s last, Will takes up one final quest -- to slay an elusive unicorn for its blood which is said to cure any illness.
His hunt takes an unexpected turn when a naked, terrified young man stumbles into his camp on a dark and stormy night, chased to the point of exhaustion by slavers. Will saves him and is forced to put his quest on hold when he realizes the young man is injured and stranded, lost in a strange land, and in desperate need of protection.
Percy is unlike any other person Will has ever met. His beauty is second to none, his sincerity is refreshing, and his kisses are the sweetest Will has tasted. But Percy isn’t what he seems, and Will’s quest for a cure becomes far more complicated once his heart is involved.
“Percy, it’s me.” He knocked, but there was no response. “Percy?”
The dagger swiped out from the small crack beneath the door, and had Will been any closer it would have cut into his boot.
“Oi, Percy, it’s alright. He’s gone. Can’t ride Sunny tomorrow if you take my feet out too.”
The dagger retreated, and Will heard a little bit of shuffling behind the door, and then Percy unlocked the door, glancing out into the hallway with wide frightened eyes before stepping back to let Will in.
“I’m sorry ... he -- he tried to speak like you.”
“Don’t apologize. You did the right thing.” Will closed the door behind himself and engaged the locks, then wedged a chair under the handle for good measure. “Did anybody else try to get in?”
“No. Just him.” Percy’s voice still shook, and he clutched his arms to his chest as if to shield himself from the world.
“Hopefully he’s gone by the morning because the next time I see him–” Will sheathed his sword and took a deep breath. “I’ve got some medicine for you. Come sit, I’ll help you with your feet, then you can use this ointment for your sore muscles.”
Percy nodded and untied his breeches, pushing them off his hips with the same shamelessness as he had by the river. Will opened his mouth to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but the words caught in his throat as he was struck by the lad’s beauty. He’d seen him in moonlight, firelight, daylight, but now he was golden and lovely in candlelight, and that was even more overwhelming in their small room. He wanted to touch Percy’s lustrous skin and see if it was as soft as it looked. He wanted to bury his nose against his throat and inhale his sweet fragrance. He wanted to grab his waist and pull him as close as possible, close his body around him, kiss him until --
Will released a shuddering breath and forced himself to look away. He had a duty to be honorable and if he gave into any of these desires, he’d be no better than the slavers. No better than that creep, Gregor, thinking that just because Percy was beautiful and desirable, he had the right to act on his urges.
He set the ointments down on the mattress, undoing the fastenings of his armor so his every movement wouldn’t make the metal clanking noises that echoed so loudly in the small room. Despite his long breeches and undershirt, he felt quite bare. Undressing with his companion in the wilderness was far less intimate than it felt with a bed in the room.
Percy lowered himself to the mattress with a pained groan. Will couldn’t blame him, they had a long ride behind them, and Percy had told him he’d never been on a horse before, of course he was sore. There was a fresh bucket of water and a couple of washcloths draped over the bucket in the corner. Will settled on the floor before him, dipped one of the cloths in water to soak it and bid Percy lay his feet into his lap so he could clean them. No amount of ointment would help if his wounds were dirty.
“I never knew feet could hurt so much,” Percy said.
“Well, yours have been through a lot.” Will tenderly cleaned each cut and abrasion one by one before uncorking the vial the healer had given him. He dipped a little bit onto his finger and traced it over the cuts, coating them thoroughly. The smell was a familiar one, and Will was sure he’d had something similar used on wounds of his own before.
Percy sighed softly, and Will looked up to see his eyes were closed, face relaxed. “How does that feel?”
“It feels good. Cold.”
There was probably mint or maybe calendula in the ointment. Something that would soothe the heat from the wounds or even numb the pain a little. He spread it a bit more, rubbing it into Percy’s sole and heel, hoping it would help the raw skin as well, but remembered the healer’s instructions to use it lightly. Will went through the same process with Percy’s other foot, feeling a little clumsy, hoping he wasn’t making the pain worse when he washed the injuries. He would have definitely caused pain before, when he was a captain of the guard, he’d been unmindful then, curt and quick when he had to help with aid. But not anymore -- he learned to be gentle with Alice, learned how to bathe tender skin, how to be attentive to the difference in breathing and sounds of discomfort.
