The Fallen One (29 page)

***

    
She could feel his hot breath on her neck.
                                                                               

    
It was early morning
as the sun strained to break free of the horizon, sending pillars of golden
light through the window, filling the tiny cottage with illumination. Cathlina
and Mathias were burrowed down deep in the little bed, smothered by covers in
the warm and wonderful world.
 
Cathlina
could feel Mathias’ massive body wrapped around her, his naked hip next to her
hand.
 
Feeling him, smelling him, brought
about warm and passionate feelings.
 
Half-asleep, Cathlina stroked his hip with her hand, wriggling her bum
back against him.

    
Mostly asleep, Mathis
still responded to her, as he always did when she was close. There was something
about the woman that sent liquid fire through his veins that he could not
control.
 
She was still clad in her
surcoat and shift from the night before but his hands snaked up her skirts as
his mouth latched on to her ear.
 
She
trembled giddily as he suckled a sensitive little lobe, his hands already
pulling her legs apart and pushing her skirts out of the way.

    
Cathlina groaned as he
entered her from behind,
 
thrusting deep
into her heated and moist body.
 
He held
her pelvis against his as he found his rhythm, performing the primal mating
ritual that joined his body to hers. He pulled her left leg up, holding his
fast so he could gain more freedom of movement as his mouth moved to her neck
and gently nibbled.
 
The more he thrust,
the more inflamed he became, biting her shoulder and listening to her gasp with
the pleasure-pain of it.
 
Letting go of
her leg, he flipped her onto her back and mounted her once more, long and hard.

    
Cathlina was swept up
in their love making, her hand on his face as he repeatedly impaled her on his
enormous phallus.
 
Mathias kissed her
deeply, his tongue invading her sweet mouth, tasting her as if he was feeding a
massive hunger that refused to be sated.
  
He pulled at her surcoat, freeing her
breasts, and his tongue lapped up the tender nipples greedily as he continued
to thrust.
 
A hand moved to the junction
where their bodies were joined and he rubbed her mound, feeling her buck and
gasp beneath him.
 

When she finally found her pleasure, he
answered with a massive climax of his own.
  
His seed was spilled, filling her deeply and fully, and he whispered his
love for her over and over, telling her how very much he adored her.
  
Exhausted, Cathlina kissed him tenderly
before snugging down against him and falling back asleep.

Mathias, however, remained awake. Even
though the sun was rising and they needed to start their day, he was loathed to
get out of bed, wallowing in this delicate cocoon of warmth and love.
 
After the night they’d had, the things that
had been said, he wanted to forget it all like some horrible nightmare.
 
Worse still, he was coming to wonder if she
wasn’t right; was his knighthood more important than her? Was he being selfish?
He didn’t think so, and he hated it when he started to second-guess himself.
 
As Cathlina snored softly, he carefully
disengaged himself from her and got out of bed.

Mathias was very quiet as he donned his
clothing but once he began to put on his armor, the noise awoke Cathlina.
 
He passed a glance at her after putting on
his noisy mail coat and saw that she was awake and looking at him.
 
He smiled timidly.

“Good morn, love,” he said softly. “Did you
sleep well?”

Cathlina nodded, sitting up in bed as she
watched him pull on his hauberk. “I did, but I had a horrible dream,” she said,
rubbing her eyes. “I had a terrible dream that we quarreled.”

His jaw ticked faintly as he straightened
out the mail hood. “That was no dream,” he muttered. “I am afraid we did
quarrel. I am sorry if I hurt you; you know I would never knowingly do that.”

Cathlina blinked her sleepy eyes, thinking
back to the previous night and the things that were said.
 
She started to get misty but rubbed her eyes
again to mask it.

“Then nothing has changed,” she whispered
sadly. “You are still taking me home and then returning to Scotland without me.
I do not know why you should apologize for choosing your own wants over mine.”

He didn’t want to start arguing with her
again.
 
He put his shoulder protection on
and began strapping it to the breastplate. “I have a duty, Cathlina,” he said
softly. “I am sorry if you cannot understand that.”

“You have a duty to me as well. I am sorry
if
you
cannot understand that.”

“I will not have this conversation with you
again. The subject is closed.”

Cathlina shut her mouth. Silently, she
climbed out of the bed and began stripping of her clothing, completely ignoring
Mathias as he finished dressing.
 
There
was a bucket of water on the table and she proceeded to pull out a clean shift,
clean surcoat, her precious lavender soap and a rag.
 
As Mathias pulled on his boots, she stood in
her shift and washed her face, neck and arms, rinsing off in the very cold
water and drying herself with the hem of the shift she was wearing.
 

As Mathias finished dressing and just sat
and watched, she pulled off the shift she was wearing, exposing her luscious
nude body to the weak morning light.
 
Mathias inspected her hungrily, her sweet curves and remembering how
they tasted upon his tongue.
 
But she
quickly covered up, pulling the clean white shift on and then a red linen
surcoat on over it.
 
In little time she
was completely dressed, braiding her hair into one thick braid and draping it
over one shoulder.
 
All the while,
Mathias sat and watched her, feeling the pain of their disagreement like
daggers. It was all he could do to breathe.

When Cathlina had finished dressing, she
packed everything up in her satchel and opened the front door, calling for
Midgy.
 
She was back to ignoring him so
Mathias quit the cottage and went to the livery to collect his charger as his wife
tracked down the errant otter.
 
He paid
the stable boy to groom and saddle his horse, and by the time he returned to
the cottage, Cathlina was standing on the riverbank sniffling.
 
He went to her.

“Are you ready to leave?” he asked. When
she turned around and he saw that she was weeping, his manner softened.
 
He thought it was still because of him. “Love,
I am truly sorry you are so upset but I will not continue to discuss it.”

She shook her head and wiped at her eyes,
pointing to the river. “It is not that,” she said. “Midgy has not come back. I
fear he is gone.”

Mathias could see that she was genuinely
upset and his hawk-like gaze perused the area. “This is where we first found
him,” he said gently. “Do you suppose he has returned to his family? It is
quite possible, you know. I would not worry that something has happened to him.
He more than likely simply went back to his family.”

“Do you think so?”

“I do.”

She was sobbing softly, looking over the
river. “I hope not,” she said. “I will miss him so.”

Even though she was angry with him, Mathias
threw caution to the wind and put his arms around her, kissing her forehead. To
his surprise, she didn’t stiffen or pull away.
 
She continued to sniffle softly, watching the river and hoping her otter
would make an appearance.
  
But there was
no sign of Midgy.
 
Mathias sighed softly.

“We cannot wait for him,” he said gently.
“We must be on our way.”

“Can I call for him a little longer?”

He wriggled his eyebrows and released her
from his embrace. “Just a few more minutes and then we really must leave,” he
told her. “I will go to the inn and procure some food for the journey, and we will
leave when I get back.”

Cathlina nodded and began walking the river
bank, calling for her pet.
 
Mathias
watched her a moment, feeling sad for her, for the situation in general, before
heading up the path to the tavern.
 
By
the time he returned nearly an hour later, as he wanted to give her plenty of
time to hunt for her pet, he found her sitting outside of the cottage with her
satchel in her lap, waiting for him.
 
When he walked up to her, she didn’t look at
him.
 
Her gaze lingered on the gently
flowing river.

“Midgy has not come back,” she said sadly.

Mathias sighed softly, his gaze moving out
over the river. “We cannot spare more time to look for him now but if it will
make you happy, I will return when time allows to search for him.”

“Promise?”

“I do.”

She squared her shoulders. “Then we may
leave now.”

Mathias knew how she must be hurting but he
respected the fact that she was trying to be strong about it.
 
He grasped her elbow gently and helped her to
her feet, not saying a word. At the moment, he wasn’t entirely sure what to
say.
 
They were facing a difficult enough
day ahead without the added sorrow of the missing pet.
 
No, he wasn’t sure what to say to her at all.

The horse was waiting by the tavern, tied
to a wooden post shoved deep into the ground.
 
The dirt was surprisingly dry and dusty in the mid-summer season and the
lower legs of the silver charger were already a dusty brown.
 
As Mathias escorted her to the charger, they
passed by a towering rose vine that grew up all around the south side of the
tavern and was bursting with small white roses.
 
Cathlina reached out and plucked a piece of the vine that had four or
five roses on it.
 
She held it to her
nose as Mathias lifted her up on to the charger.

Mathias mounted behind his wife, collecting
the reins of the charger and directing the animal onto the main road
south.
  
All the while, Cathlina sat
silently in front of him, smelling the roses.
 
When they took the bridge over the river, she didn’t look to see if
Midgy was anywhere to be found. It was as if she had given up.
 
There was too much on her mind and Midgy was
the last straw.
  
When they were about a
mile south of the town, Mathias heard her break down into soft sobs. Whether it
was for him or the otter, he didn’t know. He didn’t even ask, for nothing he
could say would ease either situation.
 
He didn’t want to make things worse. She withdrew completely, and
Mathias let her.

He let her cry.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

    
Tate de Lara wasn’t
simply astonished to see Mathias and Cathlina ride into the outerbailey of
Carlisle Castle; he was bloody well shocked.
  
He had been in the gatehouse, a squat, intimidating red-stoned building,
when a solitary rider had been sighted coming in from the northeast.
 
Tate had paid very little attention until he
happened to see the rider at close range and realized there were two people
astride the charger. Moreover, he recognized the charger.
 
Mathias and Cathlina were returning.

    
He had sent a soldier
running for St. Hèver, who was in the great hall, before making his way to the
gatehouse entry about the time Mathias and Cathlina were entering.
 
He moved quickly to the horse, looking up at
the exhausted pair with great concern.

    
“What has happened?”
he demanded. “Why are you here?”

    
Cathlina looked as if
she had been weeping and Mathias, drawn and pale, handed her down into Tate’s
waiting arms.
 
As Tate gently took
Cathlina, Mathias dismounted behind her and handed his charger off to one of
the any soldiers crowding around them.
 
He followed Tate and Cathlina across the expansive
bailey towards the enormous keep.

    
“Mathias, tell me,”
Tate asked again, his arm around Cathlina’s shoulders. “What happened? Why have
you returned?”

    
Mathias unlatched his
helm and removed it, revealing damp dark hair beneath. “It is not safe for her
in Scotland,” he said simply. “I found Pembury and we subsequently located de
Beaumont, but the wars he is fighting are more than we imagined. He is planning
a full-scale invasion and he wants me to help lead it. He has nearly eighty
ships prepared to set sail from Yorkshire ports to help him gain the throne for
Edward Balliol, who is now in resident with de Beaumont.”

    
Tate looked at him
with surprise.
 
“Balliol is with him? The
last I heard, he was in France.”

    
Mathias sighed
wearily. “He is here now,” he said. “He is very confident that he can wrest the
throne from the infant David.
  
He thinks
the regent, the Earl of Moray, is one to be easily defeated.
 
I am not convinced, however.
 
I think the infant has more support than we
realize.”

    
Tate was seriously
listening to him and not paying attention to Cathlina at all. “Why would you
say that?”

    
They were drawing near
to the keep now and Mathias could see Toby emerge, shielding her eyes against
the morning sun to see who was approaching.
 
As Cathlina scurried forward ahead of the men, Mathias and Tate came to
a halt and faced one another.

    
“Because de Beaumont is
convinced that he will have superior numbers to reinforce him from England,” he
said quietly. “The man is experienced and intelligent, but he does not seem to
realize that he is in Scotland siding with Scots that are just as passionate
about Balliol as Moray is about the infant.
 
Moreover, Moray commands thousands and even now, de Beaumont cannot have
more than eight hundred men. I have seen the thin numbers for myself.”

    
Tate listened to him
carefully.
 
When Mathias was finished, he
sighed heavily as he pondered the information.
 
“Is this true? I can hardly believe it.”

    
“It is true.”

    
Tate simply shook his
head in disbelief. “I wonder if King Edward knows this.”

    
“If he does not, he
should,” Mathias said. “But it will take weeks for the news to reach him.
 
We cannot wait for direction.
 
What is happening in Scotland is happening
now, which is why I brought Cathlina home.
 
Although I had hoped to start a new life with her in Scotland, it is too
dangerous for my liking. I will have to bring her home and pray her father
forgives us for marrying without his blessing.”

    
Tate tried to sound
confident. “He will,” he said. “The man is not unreasonable, and he will
appreciate that you thought of his daughter’s safety by bringing her back to
England. Moreover, if the danger is as bad as you say it is, you would be
ineffective because you would be worrying about her constantly.”

    
Mathias lifted his
eyebrows in an ironic gesture.
 
“Cathlina
does not see it that way,” he said. “She thinks that I am abandoning her and
that I no longer have use for her now that I am once again a knight.”

    
Tate was pensive.
“Women do not often times see what it is that makes us do what we do,” he said.
“It took Toby years to accept that I am a fighting man and that war is in my
blood. It does not diminish my love for her.”

    
“I wish Cathlina saw
it that way.”

    
Tate clapped him on
the shoulder and turned him for the keep. “Leave her here with us,” he said.
“Toby will explain what it is to be a warrior’s wife. Mayhap she would take it
better from another woman.”

    
Mathias nodded. “I
will admit that women are mysterious creatures,” he muttered. “Sometimes it is
so simple to speak with her, then other times….”

    
Tate grinned as they
prepared to mount the steps to the massive keep.
 
Toby and Cathlina stood at the top of the
steps, Cathlina in Toby’s embrace.
 
Tate
and Mathias gazed up at the pair with expressions of fear, awe, and respect.

    
“I understand you
completely,” Tate murmured. “They are indeed mysterious creatures.
 
Come into the keep and let us discuss this over
a pitcher of ale.”

    
Mathias balked. “I
cannot,” he said. “I must return to Scotland immediately.
 
I have only come to deliver my wife for
safekeeping.”

    
“And so you have,”
Tate replied.
 
A flash of armor caught
his attention and he turned to see St. Hèver heading in their direction from
the stable block.
  
He gestured at
Kenneth. “It sounds as if you could use reinforcements. Mayhap I should send
Ken with you.”

    
“I would take him
gladly.”

    
Kenneth jogged up to
them, his concerned attention on Mathias. “What are you doing here?” he asked
the same question Tate had. “What has happened?”

    
“Rumblings in
Scotland,” Tate answered for him. “Mat has brought his wife back here for
safekeeping, but it sounds as if the entire country is about to tear itself
apart.”

    
Kenneth wasn’t
surprised. “De Beaumont is a skilled military man and a deft politician,” he
said. “He is also a troublemaker.
 
What
seems to be the issue?”

    
“Eighty-eight ships
preparing to sail from ports in Yorkshire to deliver English support for Edward
Balliol, who has arrived from France and is now prepared to assume his role as
king with de Beaumont’s support,” Mathias said. “The situation is more critical
than we suspected.”

    
“Did you find
Pembury?”

    
“I did. He is in the
middle of it with me, as de Beaumont has asked me to aid him in leading the
charge.”

    
Kenneth’s gaze
lingered on Mathias for a moment before turning to Tate. “I am bored to tears
here in your happy little earldom,” he said. “Short of going out and stirring
up trouble just so I will have something to do, I would ask permission to
return to Scotland with Mat and aid him in doing battle with the Scots.”

    
Tate looked at the two
of them, seasoned knights he had fought with innumerable times and, in Mathias’
case, fought against him in heartbreaking moments. It had been a very long time
since he had swung a sword with Mathias flanking him.
 
Moreover, if what Mathias said was true and a
massive battle for the Scots throne was imminent, then perhaps it would be
prudent if he was a part of it, too.
 
Edward Balliol on the throne would be allied with young King Edward and
Tate, as always, fought for young Edward’s interest. Aye, perhaps it was time
he be a part of it.

    
“I am bored as well,”
he said after the moment.
 
“But as you have
asked permission from me, I must ask permission from my wife.
 
Let me think about how to accomplish that
without sending my wife through the ceiling in a fit of rage.”

    
Mathias gave him an
expression that suggested fear and hope. “May I attend you and study your technique?
It would seem I am in need of a lesson on how to handle a wife.”

    
Kenneth caught on to
the intimation. “Are you saying that you cannot handle that tiny woman you
married? Mat, I am shocked.”

    
“Don’t be. I am
willing to admit I am a novice where marriage is concerned.”

    
“Let me guess; she
does not want you to go to war and leave her here.”

    
“How did you know?
    
“Because I have seen it too many
times. You are not alone, my friend.”

    
Tate began to head
towards the keep. “Come along,” he said to the two of them. “Come and witness
my superiority when handling my wife.”

    
“I would wager on
Toby’s superiority first,” Kenneth said.

    
As Tate and Kenneth
chuckled, Mathias grinned only because they were. He felt no humor.
 
All he could feel was the abject sorrow with
the situation between him and Cathlina, terrified that he would leave to return
to Scotland and things would never be the same between them.
 
He had been questioning his decision to
return for a few days now because so many things she said to him made sense.
 
But there were things that didn’t.
 

In any case, he had to leave before the day
was out and he fully intended to hash things out with her before he left.
 
There were things he had to say to her that
she needed to hear, and he could only pray they would make a difference.
 
He didn’t want to see such a beautiful
relationship wrecked because of bad decisions or misunderstandings.

One he left for Scotland, he could only
pray that he had a marriage to return to.

***

    
Although it was
reluctantly, Toby indeed gave permission for her husband to take one thousand
men into Scotland to aid Henry de Beaumont and Edward Balliol’s cause.
  
Because Tate was so close to the Scots
border, he usually kept around two thousand men at any given time at Carlisle
Castle, and another thousand at Harbottle Castle, another outpost about a day’s
ride to the east.
 
Saer de Lara had eight
hundred men at Kirklinton, men sworn to Carlisle, but Tate refrained from
calling upon them.
 
He didn’t want to spread
his resources too thin.

    
Because he had so many
men to muster, it was later afternoon by the time he organized all of his men
and had the quartermasters bring forth the wagons.
 
Given that he didn’t want to start a battle
march at sun set, he made the decision to stay the night and start for Scotland
before dawn.
 
Mathias had made a push for
leaving that day but when he saw that wasn’t going to happen, he was secretly
glad; it would mean one more night with Cathlina.
 
Perhaps he could make her see his side of it.

    
Cathlina had spent the
entire day with Toby as Tate, Kenneth, and Mathias went about organizing the
troops.
  
Even though Mathias was deeply
involved in mustering the army, his thoughts kept drifting to Cathlina.
 
Like the waves of the sea, crashing onto him
again and again, thoughts of his wife tumbled down on him until he could think
of little else.
 
Already, he missed her,
and he knew it was only going to get worse.

    
The sun was setting as
they wrapped up the last tasks with the assembled army and told the men to eat
and sleep early because they were departing before sunrise.
 
Mathias, in the midst of mustering the army,
brought up the subject of the Treaty of Northampton, part of the treaties
established with Robert the Bruce before his death that, among other things,
prevented the English armies from crossing north of the River Tweed.
 

Tate was aware of this, as was King Edward
and every other fighting man in England, but Tate was clever – he broke up his
army into several divisions, each one commanded by a knight or another senior
soldier, with orders to cross the river in smaller separate units that could
not constitute the definition of an army, and then join up into a collective
group once they reached the outskirts of Edinburgh.
 
It was a technicality but really all they
could do if they didn’t want to lose precious time.