The Fallen One (17 page)

“You have a tournament to finish,” he said
softly. “I would suggest you go and prepare for the second round.”

It occurred to Mathias that he’d not spoken
to the man since Sebastian had mentioned Tate’s knowledge of his deception. He
tried not to look too contrite. “Was I that obvious? I thought I did rather
well at concealing my identity.”

“You did a fine job,” Tate agreed. “But you
forget how well I know you. Your move of hitting me on the helmet in the first
pass confirmed what I already suspected.
 
Go, now. I will make sure Cathlina is taken
care of.”

Mathias looked down at Cathlina, swathed in
his enormous embrace.
 
He quite honestly
didn’t want to let her go but knew he had little choice. Leaning down, he
kissed her very sweetly on the cheek before releasing her.
 
Then he looked at Tate.

“If he touches her again, I will kill him,”
he said simply.

Tate knew he meant it. He’d seen what
Mathias could do in battle and had no desire to push the man.
 
So he nodded.

“He understands that,” he said quietly.
“Give me my cousin and be on your way.”

“You will take her to the lists where I can
see her?”

“I will.”

Mathias’ gaze lingered on Cathlina a moment
before kissing her hand gently and quitting the tent.
 
Cathlina watched him leave, her entire being
focused around him and the memory of him.
 
She couldn’t focus on anything else.
 
When she finally shook herself from her trance, she caught sight of the
grin on Tate’s face.
 
She smiled,
embarrassed, silently acknowledging all of the sweet and giddy things she’d
been thinking.
 
He laughed softly.

“If you are ready, my lady, I will take you
over to the field,” he said.

“Nay,” Saer said from across the tent. “I
want to speak with her first.”

Tate’s smile faded as he looked to his
cousin. “Go ahead,” he said. “I shall wait right outside the tent.”

Saer turned to look at him with as much
defeat in his expression as Tate had ever seen.
 
The Axe he’d known all those years looked old and tired.
 
Children growing up and resisting parental
directives had a way of doing that to people.

“No need,” he said wearily. “I just want to
speak with her a few moments. I will bring her over to the field myself”

Tate cocked an eyebrow. “You will not beat
her.”

Saer shook his head, resigned. “I will not
beat her.”

“Swear it?”

“I swear”

“Then I will see you over at the field.”

Mathias won the joust later that day
without his favored lady in the lists.
 
Once he realized what had happened, he went to Tate with a plan and
begged the man to help him.
 
The whole
story about Henry Beaumont and fighting for the Scots came in to play, and Tate
was more than willing to listen.
 
Had he
not loved his wife so much, it would have been difficult for him to understand
Mathias’ willingness to sacrifice everything for the chance at new life with
the woman he loved. As it was, he understood completely.

Tate was not hard to convince, and an
appropriate scheme was hatched.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Kirklinton Castle was bottled up tightly
and had been for three days.
 
Patrols
were doubled and the wall walk was crowded with sentries.
 
Ever since their flight from Brampton’s
tournament back to Kirklinton, the castle had been sealed up.
 
Now, everyone was waiting, watching the road,
preparing for what was to come.

It was like a deathwatch. No one knew what
to expect or why the defenses were doubled as if preparing for a siege.
 
Dunstan and Beauson had been told not to let
anyone into or out of Kirklinton and they held tight to their directive.
 
They didn’t truly know the full extent of
their orders or the reason behind it other than Saer had ordered them to
forfeit their rounds at the tournament for the harried return home.
 
The crying girls had been loaded up into the
carriage and back they had all come.
 
Now,
the soldiers were moving through their duties in stressful silence as the
family remained locked up in the keep.

Cathlina was inconsolable. She had fought
so much on the way home that Rosalund was forced to hold her down the entire
way, alternately scolding her for her behavior and comforting her. All Saer
would say was that she had behaved terribly and as a result, the entire family
had to leave the tournament to return home.
 
It wasn’t until they reached Kirklinton that Saer told his wife the
entire story. His side of it, of course, and Rosalund was appalled.

Therefore, Cathlina was confined to the
keep.
 
She had someone watching her
constantly so she would not try to escape and run back to Mathias.
 
Abechail had slept with Cathlina since they
had returned, the sickly little sister doing her best to comfort her distraught
sibling.
 
Eventually, Abechail and Roxane
learned the reason for their sister’s distress and although Roxane remained
distant and pouting, Abechail never left Cathlina’s side.

Cathlina woke up on the third morning since
their departure from Brampton with Abechail in her bed. But they were not
alone; Abechail’s pets, the spotted goat and the three brown puppies had joined
them.
 
As the puppies wriggled and
licked, Cathlina tried not to become too annoyed.

Climbing out of bed, she called for warmed
water and was provided with linen towels and two big basins of warmed lavender
water.
 
As the sun began to rise and the
activity about the castle swung into its normal routine, she bathed with a bar
of lumpy lavender soap and donned a clean linen shift.
 
It was big and voluminous, with a ruffle
around the bottom, and she pulled a red silk surcoat over the top.
 
The surcoat had a corset that laced up and
she sighed distractedly as she laced up the coat, her mind wandering to Mathias
as it did a thousand times a day.
 
He was
all she could think of, like the strains of the siren song that never went
away.
 
She fairly ached with it all.

By the time she was brushing her hair,
Abechail was up.
 
Abechail took the brush
from her sister and brushed her hair while Cathlina sat and stared from the
lancet window overlooking the southeast section of the bailey.
  
As Abechail put the brush down and began to
braid, Cathlina gazed across the rolling green land, visions of Mathias and
their future spread out before her.
 
She
could only see him as a restored knight, stronger and taller and prouder than
anyone, a knight that belonged to her and her alone.
 
She could imagine the castle they would live
in and the strong sons they would have.
  
She could feel his hand on hers, his lips on her flesh.
 
She imagined what it would be like to kiss
him.
 
She prayed she had the opportunity
to find out.

Lost in her daydreams, she didn’t notice
that Abechail had braided her hair elaborately and wound it all up and around
her head.
 
In truth, it was quite lovely,
as Abechail had a talent for dressing hair even at her young age.
  
She would often practice on her sisters,
although Cathlina’s silky hair was much easier to manage than Roxane’s frizzy
strands.
 
As Cathlina admired her little
sister’s handiwork in a polished metal mirror, the door to the chamber opened
and Roxane entered.

There were two chambers on the top level of
the keep and both of them were occupied by the three girls.
 
They shifted around in the beds, sometimes
sleeping in one bed or the other, or two of them would sleep together while one
slept alone.
 
It had always been thus;
moreover, the same went for their clothing – they all shared the same surcoats
because they were all relatively the same size, although shifts and shoes
remained personal.
 
Roxane, in her shift,
had come hunting for just the right surcoat for the day’s dressing.

She stuck her nose in the air when she saw
Cathlina in her beautifully braided hair and headed straight for a massive
wardrobe that sat low and squat against the wall.
 
The moment she opened it, clothing burst
forth and fell on the floor.
 
Frustrated,
Roxane started digging through it.

“You must be more organized,” she said to
both sisters. “These are all wrinkled!”

Abechail wandered over to her eldest
sister. “You were in there the last,” she pointed out. “This is your mess.”

Roxane turned to Abechail, her lips
puckered furiously. “Never mind,” she snapped.
 
Then she noticed the dogs and goat over near the bed. “And why are the
barn animals in here? I am telling Mother!”

“For Heaven’s sake, Roxane,” Cathlina stood
up from her stool. “Shut your yap, do you hear? You never have a kind word for
anyone, you selfish wench. All you ever do is complain!”

It was the opening volley to the hair
pulling event which would start shortly.
 
Abechail scooted in between her sisters as they came close to one
another to stop the inevitable progression.

“Oh!”
Roxane gasped. “Look who’s calling me selfish? We had to leave the tournament
because of you!”

“We
left because Father was angry!”

Roxane
put her hands on her hips, sassy. “We left because
you
behaved outrageously with the smithy that saved Abbie from that
awful brute,” she said. “Father said you were horrible and wanton!”

“Father
is imagining things.”

“I am
going to tell him you said that!”

“Go
ahead,” Cathlina scowled. “I do not care what you do. I could not possibly be
in any more trouble than I am now.”

“I
hope he spanks you!”

Cathlina
rolled her eyes and turned away. “You are simply upset because I have a
handsome man who pays attention to me,” she said. “You throw yourself at men
and they never notice you.
 
Do not blame
me because you are as ugly as a toad.”

Roxane
shrieked and threw herself across the room, fully prepared to yank out all of
Abechail’s careful braiding, but Abechail put up her hands and prevented her
sister from making contact with her artistic hairdo.

“Stop
it, Roxane,” Abechail pushed her away. “She is right and you know it. You are
jealous!”

Roxane’s
mouth popped open in outrage.
 
“You nasty
little goat!”

She
gave a yank on Abechail’s long hair and Abechail came right back and slapped
her cheek.
  
Soon, Cathlina was breaking
up a fight between Abechail and Roxane, and Abechail was winning.
 
The sickly little sister had smacked Roxane on
both cheeks and was going in for a punch.

“Cease,
the both of you,” she said, exasperated. She looked at Roxane, struggling for
calm. “Roxane, I am sorry if you are upset because we left early but in case you
have not yet understood, I am upset that we left, too.
 
I certainly did not want to leave, but I had
no say in the matter. You know how Father is when he is determined to do
something.”

Roxane
backed down somewhat, eyeing her sisters who were siding against her.
 
Still hurt, and huffing, she turned back
around for the wardrobe that had vomited its contents out all over the floor.

“’Tis
simply that…,” Roxane began, pausing as she picked a dark green brocade off the
floor. “There was a knight and he viewed me most favorably. I am not sure how
Sir Kenneth will react when he realizes there is competition for my
affections.”

Cathlina
looked at Abechail, who rolled her eyes. Cathlina fought off a grin. “Is that
so?” she said. “I am sure Sir Kenneth will survive.
 
What is the name of his competition?”

Roxane
quickly forgot her irritation. “Sir Anthony de Ferrer,” she said dreamily. “He
serves the Earl of Billingham.”

“I
see,” Cathlina said, moving to help her sister with the green dress because it
was tangled up in some other things. “Did you get the opportunity to speak with
him?”

Roxane
nodded. “A few times,” she said. “It was very brief, of course, for propriety’s
sake.
 
I did not want to appear
unseemly.”

“What
did he say? Does he want to court you?”

Roxane
came off her cloud a bit. “Not exactly,” she said. “But he was very kind and
courteous. I told him where I lived and he said he would make a point of coming
to visit me.”

She
seemed quite convinced on the knight’s sincerity, so Cathlina merely looked at
Abechail and wriggled her eyebrows. Time would tell.
 
As the sisters began pulling garments off the
floor and placing them back in the wardrobe, shouts could be heard from the
sentries in the ward.

The
girls, with clothing in their hands, ran to the window and jockeyed around to
try to gain a better look.
 
Their view
cut off nearly half the bailey, including the gatehouse,
 
but they could see the road beyond.
 
On this clear and fine day, they could see a
collection of men in the distance.
 
It
was clear very quickly that it was an army, heading their way.

The
girls fell back from the window and began scrambling. “It is Sir Anthony!”
Roxane gasped.
 
“He has come to court
me!”

“With
an entire army?” Cathlina scowled as she shoved pieces back into the wardrobe.
“That is a lot of men, even for you.”

When
it occurred to Roxane what her sister meant, she scowled fiercely. “Coming from
a reckless and wanton woman, you have no room to accuse me of loose behavior.”

Cathlina
threw a balled scarf at her sister, hitting her in the side of the head. “At
least I have the opportunity to be reckless and wanton without having to bribe
my partner. Only a man in need of alcohol or money would be foolish enough to
look at you.”

After
that, they forgot all about the incoming army.
 
The fight was on.

***

“You
left very suddenly,” Tate said, eyeing his cousin across the table. “I thought
mayhap something terrible had happened.”

Seated
in the great hall of Kirklinton, which was a long room built against the wall
of the bailey, Saer looked at his cousin over the top of the wine
pitchers.
  
He thought on his answer
carefully before opening his mouth.

“Cathlina
was not herself,” he said. “Moreover, Abechail is a very frail girl. She
started feeling very poorly so we thought it best to come home immediately.”

Tate
nodded his head but it was clear from his expression that he didn’t believe
him.
 
The hall was full of de Lara’s
senior soldiers and knights, all having their fill of Saer’s hospitality.
 
Kenneth was there, seated next to Tate, and
the big blond knight held a fairly grim expression at this point.
 
They had come out of their way on their
travels back to Carlisle and the man wasn’t happy.
 
Mostly, he wasn’t happy at Saer’s behavior
but he kept his mouth shut.
 
There was a
good deal he wanted to say to the man but couldn’t, for obvious reasons. This
wasn’t his fight.

“I am
sorry to hear that they are unwell,” Tate finally replied. “It was unfortunate
that you missed an exciting tournament.”

Saer
wasn’t particularly interested in speaking of the tournament because it would
bring up the subject of Mathias, which he was unwilling to discuss.
 
Still, he would not let his cousin bully or
badger him about the subject. As far as he was concerned, the situation was
over with.

“There
will be other tournaments,” he said shortly, changing the subject. “Where is
your lady wife? I have not seen her since your arrival.”

“She
is in the bailey with our children,” Tate replied. “Did you see the rather
large covered wagon we have? It is nearly like a home on wheels. It contains
beds and a table to eat on. We often travel with it because of the
children.
 
It is much sturdier than a
tent.”