Chapter Nine #5
“Get out!” Harald was screaming. “Take your things and leave my encampment. You will leave my sight, le Kerque, and never return. Do you hear me?”
Essien came to a halt, but Catalina ran toward Harald. “Father?” she said, concerned. “What is the trouble?”
Harald saw her coming and the rage on his face was evident.
“You,” he said angrily. “You are the trouble. Women are nothing but trouble. Now le Kerque is enraged that I betrothed you to Hereford’s man and he is calling me a charlatan and a liar.
He wanted to marry you, but I gave you over to another.
He is questioning my honor because of you! He is threatening me!”
Essien stepped into the fray, putting himself between Lance, who was busy grabbing his things out of a smaller tent, and a nearly hysterical Harald.
“Did you promise le Kerque your daughter’s hand?” he asked the man. “Did you give him any indication that you would grant his petition?”
That only seemed to make Harald angrier. “That is none of your affair,” he said. “Who are you?”
“Essien al-Kort.”
Very quickly, Harald calmed. Too quickly. He struggled with his anger, looking Essien over in the dim light of the nearby torches.
“The prince,” he said, almost to himself. “You are the one Hereford chose.”
“I am, my lord,” Essien said. “But if this man had a claim before me, that must be discussed.”
“There was no claim,” Harald said. “Only a wish. He wished it.”
“I requested it.” Lance had heard him. He had his broadsword, in its scabbard, in his hand because he’d been in the midst of securing it when he heard Harald’s claim.
“Over and over again, I requested it. I begged him to consider it. He never gave me a direct answer, only smiled and walked away. He has toyed with me for the past month about it and now I find he has betrothed his daughter to you.”
Essien was calm as he faced him. “I did not know any of this,” he said. “I doubt Hereford did, either.”
Lance was livid, red in the face with emotion. “Then you understand why I feel cheated,” he said. “I may not be a prince of Kitara, but my birth is not entirely unremarkable.”
Essien shook his head. “I never said it wasn’t,” he said. “I’ve never said anything at all because I hardly know you. But I must tell Hereford of this situation. He may wish to speak to you.”
“Why?” Catalina wanted to know. She’d been listening silently, confident that Lance’s suit was ended for good, but Essien’s words had her concerned. “Why would you tell Hereford about this?”
Essien looked at her with regret. “Because le Kerque may have a claim if your father never clearly denied his request,” he said. “A magistrate might see it that way.”
Her eyes widened. “Nay,” she gasped. “I told you… I do not wish to marry him. I do not even like him. It would be another miserable marriage, and I will throw myself in the river before I marry him.”
Essien could see how distressed she was.
Truthfully, he was also, but he had a point.
If le Kerque took his grievance to the local magistrate, which happened to be Christopher, there might be a problem because Christopher would recuse himself and pass it to another magistrate who might rule against Harald.
If the man had been ambiguous enough in his response to le Kerque’s suit, enough to imply he would consider it, there might be something in the law that gave Lance the right to compete for Catalina’s hand.
At this point, there was no written contract, only verbal, and a verbal one was easily dissolved if both parties agreed to it.
But Catalina wasn’t having any of it.
“Be at ease,” Essien said softly, reaching out to grasp her gently by the hand. “I am not saying that he will win, but he could cause… trouble.”
“There will be no trouble,” Harald shouted, shaking his club at Lance. “You are a knight with no name, no money, no title, and no prospects. My daughter is a valuable heiress. You are not good enough, le Kerque. Not in the least.”
Lance’s jaw was twitching with emotion. “I was good enough for you to take me on as your knight,” he growled. “I may bear the name le Kerque, but I am not a le Kerque. I am my father’s bastard and a man of great and noble birth. I am more than a match for your daughter.”
“You are the dirt beneath my feet!”
Essien put his hand up in front of Lance before the man could respond, a silent request to keep his composure.
“You must do as he tells you to do,” he said quietly.
“If you maintain this argument, it will only get worse and Hereford will get involved, so do yourself a kindness and walk away. Get your things and walk away. Go into the great hall and stay there. Let the situation calm, and if you feel you have enough of a grievance, see Hereford on the morrow.”
Lance eyed him in the darkness. “Why should you encourage me to do that?” he said. “You do realize that I am protesting your betrothal, don’t you?”
“I do,” Essien said. “Mayhap you have been treated unfairly. I don’t really know. I was only told today of this contract, so I do not know what de Barenton may, or may not, have implied to you. But if you feel strongly about this, I suggest you see Hereford.”
Oddly, those words seem to calm Lance. Essien was being understanding, if not neutral, and considering he had a stake in this situation, it was surprising. He seemed to want to be fair about it.
That was most shocking.
Without another word, Lance collected his saddlebags, traveling bags, and a lad who had been squiring for him.
Everything was packed up and the warhorse gathered.
As Harald went back into his tent, for he didn’t care what became of Lance at this point, Essien watched the man head toward the bailey of Lioncross Abbey.
When he disappeared through the gatehouse, Essien turned to Catalina.
“I know this is distressing,” he said quietly, “but I can only imagine how I would feel if I wanted to marry you and my suit had been toyed with. To be truthful, I do not think he has a claim of any kind, but I do not want the man feeling that he’s been cheated and disrespected, most of all by me.
If he tells others, that kind of thing will get around and put me in a bad light.
So, I have to make him feel that he has recourse.
Even if he does not pursue it. Do you understand? ”
Catalina nodded. “I do,” she said. “You show wisdom and kindness.”
He shrugged. “Mayhap,” he said, his gaze drifting over her in the dim light of the distant torches. “All I know is that if I had asked for your hand and was denied, I might have been quite upset myself.”
She fought off a smile. “You flatter me.”
“I speak the truth.”
Catalina wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, so she simply let her smile blossom as a silent gesture of thanks.
“It has been quite an evening, my lord,” she said. “I am certain you have other things to attend to, so I will bid you a good night.”
“Indeed,” he said, dipping his head as he prepared to walk away. But he stopped as if a thought had just occurred to him. “My lady, would it be too bold to ask for a favor to carry for tomorrow’s bouts? Something that will bring me luck?”
She appeared surprised by the request. “A favor?” she said. “From me?”
“You are my betrothed, are you not?”
Catalina almost had to think about that. It was such a strange thing to consider, but he was right. She was his betrothed. Without hesitation, she pulled her hair, thick and wavy, over her shoulder and untied the blue silk ribbon that was securing the braid at the bottom.
“Will this be acceptable?” she said, extending it to him. “I do not know what else I can give you.”
He took the ribbon gratefully. “This is perfect,” he said. “I can tuck it into my tunic easily. Thank you, my lady. This is very kind of you.”
“I hope it helps.”
He chuckled. Then he reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.
“It already has,” he said softly.
With that, he turned and headed for the gatehouse, but he turned back around to look at her a couple of times as he walked. Catalina grinned, waving at him both times, watching him as he finally picked up the pace and jogged through the open gates, disappearing inside.
Sweet Jesú… Is this really happening? Is Essien too good to be true?
She couldn’t help but wonder. Certainly, he was beautiful to look at.
He was quite tall, with long, muscular arms, broad chest, and narrow torso.
His eyes had an ethereal quality to them, a sublime color that was a shade of golden brown.
It was pale and lovely. But his smile was his most brilliant feature, for his big white teeth positively lit up the sky when he smiled.
That smile made her feel the least bit quivery, too.
She’d never felt that way before, so it was both intriguing and exciting.
He was intriguing and exciting.
Her prince.
With a smile playing on her lips, she headed off to bed.