Medieval Ever After (56 page)

“If you do not leave me alone, I most certainly will!”

“Oooh!”

“
Oooooh!”

They shrieked and pointed at each other, furious and outraged. The next step was usually pulling hair but fortunately that didn’t occur. Still, there was agitated posturing going on that eventually settled with Roxane backing down first. She was still making faces, however.

“I will not tell her,” she finally grumbled. “But tell me where you are going. What is in your basket?”

Cathlina settled down as well, though she was still eyeing her sister with some anger. Roxane had a way of getting under her skin.

“Breads and treats,” she finally said, returning her attention to her mare as she began to saddle the animal. “I am going to Brampton to bring them to the man who saved me and Abechail from the attacker yesterday. It is the least I can do.”

Roxane followed her sister to the horse and actually began helping her tack the animal. “The man?” she repeated, thinking back to the day before and the events surrounding Abechail’s near abduction. “The big man with the dark hair?”

Cathlina nodded as she strapped on the saddle. “Aye,” she said. “He said he would not take a reward but I feel strongly that I must do something for him. Had he not intervened, surely Abechail would now be lost. He would not even come to dine with us so I thought to bring him some manner of treats to show our gratitude.”

Roxane pulled the bridle off the nail on the wall above the mare’s head, her manner thoughtful. “What was his name again?”

“Mathias.”

“Mathias? What was his surname?”

“He did not say.”

Roxane fussed with the straps on the bridle, her mind drifting to the very big, very handsome man who had saved her sisters from tragedy. He had delightful dark hair and a sculpted face.

“Mathias,” she repeated, somewhat dreamily. “He was quite handsome, don’t you think?”

Cathlina could hear the hopeful tone and she was irritated by it. Her sister had an eye for men,
any
man, and she could already tell that Roxane’s easily-won affections were about to shift to yesterday’s hero.

Cathlina had spent most of the evening thinking about the dark-haired stranger, pondering his beauteous face and deep, gentle voice. The massive arms, the unruly hair, the twinkle in the green eyes… she was smitten by the picture. The mysterious Mathias was her private joy and no one else’s, and certainly not her fickle sister. She would not share a secret fantasy that would surely never be fulfilled. It was but a dream, but it was
her
dream. She turned swiftly to Roxane, a finger in her face.

“You will not think of him,” she hissed. “If anyone is to show affection towards him, it will be me, do you hear? I was the one he saved, you little fool. You have Beauson and Dunstan to occupy your affections. Leave Mathias alone.”

Roxane looked rather surprised. Her sister never spoke of a man, so this was a rare occurrence. It also made Roxane very jealous because as the eldest, she felt it her birthright to have first right of refusal on any man that crossed the sisters’ path.

“Beauson and Dunstan are merely father’s knights,” she said. “They are not men I intend to marry.”

“Why not?”

Roxane shrugged her slender shoulders. “Because they are mere knights,” she repeated. “I will marry a lord.”

“Then you will put Mathias from your mind because he is not a lord. He is a smithy.”

Roxane’s brow furrowed, just as quickly lifting in realization when she became aware that her sister was right. “You are correct,” she declared. “He is not a lord. We are de Laras and therefore must marry well. Mayhap Father will convince Cousin Tate to find us wealthy husbands. Do you recall when we visited last Christmas and the fine men that were gathered at Carlisle?”

“You mean when you first beheld Kenneth St. Héver?”

“I do.”

“He is a mere knight, Roxy,” Cathlina said, somewhat gently, although she was thankful that Roxane was off Mathias’ scent. “He is not a lord. But I am sure there are many other men of standing that Cousin Tate can align us with.”

“I hope so,” Roxane said wistfully. “I am growing rather weary of kissing knights.”

Cathlina lifted an eyebrow at her. “You should not be kissing them at all.”

Roxane shrugged with a half-hearted attempt at defiance. “I do not kiss Dunstan anymore,” she said, “merely Beauson. I do believe Dunstan has a fondness for you so he is unresponsive to my charms as of late.”

Cathlina finished with the bridle. “Dunstan is a nice enough man, big and strong, but he is not what I would call a smart man,” she said. “Besides, he is too old. I am not interested in him as a romantic prospect. He will have to seek affection elsewhere.”

With that, Cathlina finished the last strap on the bridle and moved to secure the basket on the back of the saddle. Roxane assisted her and between the two of them, they managed to tie it down securely.

“Mayhap you should ask Dunstan or Beauson to escort you to town,” Roxane said. “It is a long ride to Brampton and there are dangers about. You know you should not go alone.”

Cathlina shook her head as she gathered her mare’s reins and turned to lead the horse from the stable. “I do not need an escort,” she said. “The ride to town will take an hour or two at the most. It is a fine day for travel and I shall return in good time.”

Roxane didn’t argue with her, mostly because she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Cathlina was stubborn and determined and Roxane was never strong enough to take a stand against her. She didn’t think the ride into town was a good idea but she had already voiced her objections. Now there was nothing to do but wait until her sister returned.

The wind was picking up as they moved into the stable yard. Bits of chaff blew about as Cathlina mounted her mare and adjusted her cloak, gathering the reins. Once she was settled, she turned to her sister.

“I should be back before the evening meal,” she said. “If Mother or Father is looking for me, tell them that you have not seen me. Swear it?”

“I swear it.”

“Good.”

“Can I have your clothing if you do not return?”

Cathlina made a face at her sister to let her know exactly what she thought of that question. Kicking her mare in the ribs, she trotted out of the bailey quite simply, losing herself in the peasants and farmers milling in and out of the open gates. Being the only castle within a several mile radius, many of the locals came here to do business with each other. It was easy to get lost in the masses of the small and crowded bailey.

Soon enough, Cathlina was on the road south towards Brampton.

EXCERPT: THE FALLEN ONE

CHAPTER THREE

“I am going
to marry her,” Sebastian said firmly. “Did you see the way she looked at me? She
wants
me.”

Mathias was in the midst of shoeing a massive charger with a nasty temper. He was trying to concentrate as his brother, propped on the edge of a table, chewed loudly of his nooning meal, a large bird leg. Food flew about as Sebastian chomped and spoke.

“Could you see how attracted she was to me?” he asked enthusiastically. “Mark my words, I have found my future wife.”

Mathias avoided a thrown horse-head. “You never came even remotely close to her,” he said. “How can you know anything about her?”

Sebastian tore at the bird. “It was the
way
she looked at me.”

“Is that so?”

“It ’tis. It was the look of love.”

“How would you know? You have never seen such a look.”

Sebastian snorted, pieces of food falling from his lips. “I have indeed, my fine lad,” he informed him. “Every time I step foot in The Buck’s Head down the street, those women give me the look. They want me.”

He was deeply self-assured and Mathias couldn’t resist taking a swipe at his arrogance. “They will give anyone the look that they think will pay for the privilege,” he said.

Sebastian shrugged, unwilling to admit that only whores were throwing him expressions of passion. “Sometimes I do not have to pay them.”

Mathias fought off a grin at his brother’s damaged ego. Letting go of the horse’s hoof, he went back over to the fire and pumped it hard as the flames sparked and roared.

“I would guess that Lady Cathlina does not even know you are alive,” he said as he removed the red-hot shoe. “Besides, she is a de Lara. I told you that.”

Sebastian was back to snorting as his brother transferred the shoe to an anvil and began to hammer. “What would the great Earl of Carlisle say if one of his lovely relatives ended up married to me?” he wondered. “It would make us family.”

Mathias put the shoe into a barrel of rainwater, watching the steam hiss up into the air. “I am sure that would not excite him half as much as it would excite you,” he said, eyeing his brother. “De Lara would not want us in the family.”

“Why not?” Sebastian demanded. “You served with him and St. Héver and Pembury. You were all as thick as thieves.”

“I was Tate’s squire when he was a young knight,” Mathias muttered. “I am not sure that makes us blood brothers.”

“He loved you and you know it,” Sebastian pointed out. “Besides, there is only a few years difference between you two.”

“Seven years.”

“He still knighted you at nineteen,” Sebastian pointed out. “Two full years before most knights receive their spurs.”

“That is because there was a war going on. He needed my sword.”

“And I would wager he has missed it long enough this year past,” Sebastian said. Then he looked thoughtful. “In fact, I do believe you even saved his life once. He owes you everything.”

“Sparing his life and saving it are two different things,” Mathias said quietly. He didn’t want to talk about that particular incident. In fact, he didn’t want to discuss that part of his life at all. Politics had separated him from his friends. A king had stripped him of all that he was. Nay, he didn’t want to talk about it in the least and Sebastian knew it, but Sebastian had jelly for brains sometimes.

But Sebastian didn’t have so much jelly for brains that he didn’t know he had broached a sore subject with his brother. Mathias kept himself so bottled up, however, that sometimes Sebastian wondered if the man cared about anything at all. But he knew, deep down, that he cared a great deal.

“He would be honored to have a de Reyne in the family,” he said confidently. “De Lara views you as an equal, Mat. You know he does. Ken and Stephen view you as a brother. Mayhap it is time to speak of such things again. Mayhap… mayhap it is even time to contact them again.”

Mathias kept his mouth shut as he removed the shoe from the water and moved to the horse. Bending over, he pulled the horse’s hoof between his legs and fitted the shoe. The horse tried to move around a bit and tried to kick at him but Sebastian set his food down and went to help his brother. He held the horse firm as Mathias hammered on the shoe.

Dropping the hoof to the ground, he wiped the sweat off his brow and moved back to the fire where the remaining shoe was being heated.

“Mat?” Sebastian said quietly. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.”