Brian nodded quietly and went back upstairs. He wrapped her in a very thick heavy suede coat and did likewise himself. He shouldered the bag and wrapped her close, pullling the hood over her head and making her bury her face tightly in his chest. He ported them out.
Brian felt his shoulder tearing in the porting. He saw the splatter of blood but he didn't utter a sound. The next he knew, he was falling flat on the wet grass in the darkness of the Tuscan night. It was cold. It was just above freezing. It was raining here--a severe thunderstorm. When he fell into the grass, he had taken her with him, and they laid in the wet, in the rain. He was out of breath due to the pain. She was horrified at seeing him covered in blood. She was panic stricken. Completely. He could not keep ahold of her, and she tried to scramble to her feet, too weak to run, stumbling and falling not far from him.
"Calm yourself," he said steadily. "It happens. I'm alright..." She was trying again to run, when two large hands took hold of her.
"Steady, Khaat," the voice said in a warm nurturing tone. "I won't let him bleed to death. Calm yourself." She turned and saw Edward. She did remember him from the last time Brian tried to take her away. Edward had been the anchor of safety. She wrapped herself tight to Edward, and he held her, motioning his grandsons to help Brian. "He'll be alright. Its just a bit of a splinch. Come, my dear. How about a glass of warm spiced wine by the fire while I see to his shoulder?" Edward's grandsons took Brian inside, and Edward took Khaat into his great hall to see to her.