Medieval Ever After (58 page)

“Where… where were you born, Mathias?” she asked, struggling to think on something else to speak of.

He continued to stoke the fire, his face and body riddled with lusty, oozy sweat, causing his inky hair to kink up in small curls around his neck.

“Throston Castle in Northumbria,” he said. “It is near the eastern coast.”

“I see,” Cathlina said, cocking her head as she tried to imagine where he was from. “You must have learned your trade from a very young age. Did you ever think to become anything other than a smithy?”

He pulled the red-hot shoe out of the fire again and set it on the anvil. He didn’t want to tell her his deepest, darkest secret for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that she was a de Lara. Therefore, for all she knew, he was what she saw: a smithy. There was no reason to tell her any differently because it would have been far too complicated to explain anyway, and it might possibly frighten her away. He didn’t want to frighten her away.

“Like what?” he asked, glancing up at her with a twinkle in his eye. “A farmer? A sailor?”

Cathlina took the question seriously. “You are big and brave and intelligent,” she said. “Perhaps you could have found someone to sponsor you as a page or squire at a young age. You could have been a fighting man. You said you were born at Throston Castle? Who is the lord at Throston?”

My grandfather,
he thought. They were heading deeper into a subject he wanted to avoid. He pounded on the shoe.

“An old man by the name of Lenox,” he replied, then shifted the course of questions back onto her and away from secrets he did not wish to divulge. “Your father is a knight, is he not? Allied with the Earl of Carlisle, you said?”

Successfully diverted, she nodded. “My father is a cousin to the earl,” she replied. “During the wars between the king and Roger Mortimer, my father served the earl and the king. But he sustained a very bad injury in the battle at Stanhope a few years ago and resigned from fighting. He simply administers the garrison at Kirklinton now and has knights and other men who do the fighting for him.”

“What is your father’s name?”

“Sir Saer de Lara. Have you ever heard of him?”

“I am sorry, I have not. I am sure he was a great knight.”

“They used to call him The Axe. Father did not fight with a sword. He liked his axe much better.”

The Axe.
Now, Mathias had heard
that
name. De Lara’s Axe had been a feared fighter, indeed. More and more, Mathias was sure he would never divulge his past to Cathlina. Or at least, never divulge it to her father. He was coming to wonder if his attraction to her would lead him down paths he was trying very hard to avoid. If their attraction grew and he eventually pledged for her, somehow, someway, he would have to be truthful. To lie about who, and what, he was then have the truth come from someone else’s lips to Cathlina’s ears would have devastating consequences. Truth be told, lying was not in his blood. Truth and honor meant everything to him.

“I could make him an excellent axe,” he teased softly, watching her giggle. She had the most beautiful smile. “Mayhap you will want to give your father a gift someday and employ me to make it.”

She laughed softly. “I am sure you would do a very good job.”

He grinned, swept up in her charm, when a pair of knights entered the stall. They didn’t see Cathlina, sitting against the wall, as they sauntered into the shop, knocking over a hammer and hardly caring. They were young, arrogant, and full of entitlement. The taller of the pair, a young knight with bristly red hair, approached Mathias.

“Have you finished with my horse yet?” he demanded.

Mathias picked up an enormous steel file and bent over, pulling a hoof between his legs. “Almost,” he said. “A moment longer.”

“A moment longer?” the knight repeated, incredulous and outraged. “He has been here all morning.”

Mathias was filing the front left hoof. “He has been here not yet two hours,” he said steadily. “These shoes were specially prepared, as you requested. That takes time. I am almost finished.”

The young knight pursed his lips angrily, eyeing the big smithy. “You are incompetent,” he announced. “This job should have been completed an hour ago.”

“I will be finished in a moment.”

“I will not pay you, then. You did not finish on time.”

Surprisingly, Mathias kept his composure. “I told you when you brought him in that he would be finished by early afternoon,” he said. “I have finished him sooner than I estimated and you will indeed pay me the full price or I will pull every one of these shoes off of him and you can find someone else to shoe this bad-tempered beast. Do I make myself clear?”

The young knight was looking for a confrontation. He was too arrogant to back down from what he considered a challenge. “You will do no such thing,” he said. “I will not let you. I will take my horse now and I will not pay you for being lazy and slow.”

Mathias kept filing. “You will pay me or the horse stays here and I will sell him to the highest bidder to recoup my losses.”

The young knight was outraged. “He is my horse and I am taking him.”

“Not until you pay me what you owe me.”

The young knight marched over to Mathias and lifted a hand to strike him, but Mathias grabbed the knight’s wrist before he could follow through with the action. The knight yelped as Mathias shoved him away and tumbled over a bucket near the anvil.

This brought the knight’s companion charging forward, unsheathing his sword. Mathias dropped the charger’s hoof, preparing to defend himself against the armed knight, when a stool suddenly sailed into the knight’s feet and the man went down. With both knights on the ground, Mathias was rather dumbfounded when Cathlina rushed up and kicked the armed knight in the shoulder. It was a hard enough kick that the man’s entire body rattled.

“Shame on you!” she scolded angrily. “You foolish whelps! By what right do you try to cheat a man out of his earnings? You are a dishonor to the knighthood, both of you!”

Mathias’ eyebrows lifted at her furious manner and brave tactic of throwing the stool she had been sitting on in order to disable the armed knight, but in truth, he wasn’t surprised. She had shown remarkable bravery the day before whilst fighting with a man three times her size. If he thought about it, his respect for her had sprouted at that moment. She was a strong and courageous woman. Now, with this latest show of courage, his respect for her had gone from a sprout to a healthy bloom.

“’Tis all right,” he soothed her, trying to steer her away from the men who were trying to gain their feet. “Please go and sit down. Do not trouble yourself over this.”

Lured by the commotion, Sebastian appeared from outside the stall. His brow furrowed at the men on the ground.

“What goes on here?” he demanded.

Mathias merely shook his head but Cathlina spoke. “These men were trying to cheat your brother out of his earnings for shoeing this horse,” she pointed angrily. “They tried to attack him.”

Sebastian’s red eyebrows flew up in outrage. “Is that so?” he said, going to stand over the young knight who had started it all. He was just starting to sit up as Sebastian loomed over him and glared. “You were trying to cheat us?”

The young knight rolled to his knees, attempting to stand up and keep a distance from the enormous red-haired knight. “He… he was slow and lazy,” he stammered, his arrogance gone now that he was being challenged by two very big men. “It is within my right not to pay him for a job he did not complete when he said he would.”

Sebastian reached out and grabbed the man by the neck as Justus, lured from the opposite side of the stall by all of the scuffling going on, came around to see both of his sons standing and two armed knights in various positions on the ground. The big old man with the long gray hair went straight to Sebastian.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, pointing fingers at the man in Sebastian’s grip. “I have warned you against harassing our customers.”

Sebastian didn’t let the young knight go. “He is trying to cheat us out of paying what he owes,” he told his father. “He tried to attack Mathias.”

Justus looked at his eldest son. “Is this true, Mat?”

Mathias had positioned himself between Cathlina and the men tussling, including his brother.

“He tried,” he confirmed. “But it is of no matter. His horse is finished and he owes a crown. If he refuses to pay, as he has declared to be his intention, then we keep the horse. Hopefully he has reconsidered, as a knight without a horse is a sorry sight indeed.”

The young knight had managed to yank himself away from Sebastian and was fumbling angrily for his purse. Mathias untethered the charger and held out a hand, refusing to hand the reins over until the young knight paid him in full. By the time the young knight got the reins in his hand, he was so angry that he yanked at them and the horse took offense. A big head swung at the young knight, nearly knocking him over, as the young knight and his companion stumbled from the stall.

When they were gone, Mathias went about his business cleaning up as if nothing was amiss. Sebastian, however, followed them out and stood in the entry to the stall, watching them walk down the street with an expression that dared them to turn around and look at him. He would have liked nothing better than to go charging after them.

With the situation settling down, Justus eyed his two boys before realizing that Cathlina was standing back in the shadows. Surprise filled his expression as his gaze beheld her lingering on the fringe.

“A lady?” he said, pointing to her. “God’s blood, there is a lady here. Does she have business with us?”

Mathias put his hammer on the anvil and began to remove his leather apron. “This is the Lady Cathlina de Lara,” he said. “It ’twas her and her sister that we did a good turn for yesterday. Lady Cathlina has come bearing gifts to thank us.”

“Good turn?” Justus was still confused. “What do you mean?”

Mathias had a half-grin on his face, his eyes on Cathlina as he spoke. “The lady’s sister was nearly abducted yesterday,” he said, trying not to be thankful for such an event but it was the reason that had introduced him to the lovely young woman. “Sebastian put their accoster in the stocks back behind the stall.”

Justus was aware of that particular circumstance. “The animal with one eye who will not speak?”

“The same.”

“He was still there last I saw.”

“He will be there for a few days or until Sebastian has had his fun with him and decides to let him go.” He set his leather apron down and pulled a leather vest off a nail. “I will be gone for a few hours, Father. I must escort Lady Cathlina home.”

Justus’ gaze was still lingering on Cathlina, thinking on the events of yesterday as Sebastian had told them. He and Mathias had all but swooped out of the sky like avenging angels. Mathias was a bit more modest, but in looking at the beauty of the lady before him, he began to suspect that one or more smitten sons were on the horizon. It would be hard to look at all of that beauty and not be bewitched by it. That spelled trouble.

“I am sure she has her own escort,” Justus said. “Your presence is needed here. With the tournament beginning tomorrow, we have more business than we can handle. I cannot lose you, even for a few hours.”

Mathias put the leather vest on over his rough tunic, securing the fastens that held it snug to his body. It was, in truth, a measure of protection against sharp objects, like swords or daggers, because the leather was heavily woven and fit his enormous torso like a glove; tight against his broad chest and snug against his slender waist. Since he was disallowed armor, the vest was the next best thing.

“I will not be gone long,” he assured his father. “And Lady Cathlina has no escort. She bravely rode here alone but I certainly cannot let her return alone.”

Justus could see the glimmer in Mathias’ eyes when speaking of Lady Cathlina and he knew the man was already infatuated. It hadn’t taken long at all, but he hardly blamed him. Still, he had to discourage it quickly.

“Then I will send Sebastian to escort her,” he said. “You are needed here.”

The glimmer vanished from Mathias’ eyes when he looked at his father. “
Not
Sebastian,” he growled, leaving no room for discussion. In fact, the last time his father heard that tone, they were in battle. “I will return in a few hours and do not let Sebastian touch anything in that basket. If he does, I will put
him
in the stocks. You will tell him that.”

Justus sighed heavily, realizing there was no way to discourage his eldest. Strangely enough, he was rather glad for the lady’s appearance when it came to Mathias. The man hadn’t shown so much interest or concern about anything in well over a year. The Mathias that had lumbered around the smithy stall since that dark January day had been morose and sullen, quiet. A mere shell of his former self. But this Mathias was much more like the Mathias of old; humorous, concerned, and interested in what was going on around him. Aye, the lady had done that much, at least. Justus had no choice but to relent.

“Return as quickly as you can,” he said, with reluctance. “We shall be working long into the night as it is.”