Chapter Nineteen #2
What a wonderful man, she thought.
There wasn’t anything about him that wasn’t wonderful.
Tearing her gaze away from the trio, she headed back into the tent. She had no idea where her father was, but she wanted to be finished by the time he returned.
With the girls occupied, she quickly went to work.
*
He’d been watching.
Truthfully, he’d been watching the bailey since dawn, knowing that, at some point, Essien and Catalina would have to come out of the keep.
Essien was here for a tournament, after all, and he had obligations.
A marriage wouldn’t interfere with that, or so Lance assumed.
Moreover, Lance had spent the night thinking about the things Essien was doing to his new bride.
He went back and forth between being angry about losing the woman and resigning himself to the fact that he had.
Even if he told himself, more than once, that he had to move on, he couldn’t seem to do it.
Not really.
And he had an excuse to talk to her.
He’d held on to that cross all night, tucked away in the coin purse at his belt, waiting for the right time to show it to Catalina. Perhaps it would come to something, but perhaps not. What she ultimately thought of the cross didn’t matter to him. He was just using it to speak to her.
So, he waited.
At some point, right as the sun began to peek over the eastern horizon, Harald made his way into the great hall where there were tables with watered wine and boiled fruit juice, bread, and warmed-over meat from the night before.
There were men wandering in and out, taking food with them or sitting down in front of the warm fire and having a meal with friends before the day began.
Only the allies and friends of de Lohr were allowed in the great hall on a morning like this, as the rest of the competitors were expected to feed themselves and be self-sufficient.
The feast in the evening was for everyone, to celebrate the events of the day, but there were many tournaments where the sponsor didn’t supply meals at all.
Lord Hereford did it out of generosity, but this tournament was only five days long, whereas many of them could be a couple of weeks.
Therefore, Lance remained in the great hall and made sure to eat good meals, because once this tournament was over, he honestly didn’t know when he would eat like this again.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t have any money, because he did, but for him, the future was clouded.
He hadn’t yet been able to ask Lord Hereford if the man could refer him to anyone who was looking for a well-trained knight, so he was still feeling some sense of trepidation where the future was concerned.
The truth was that anything could happen.
But until then, he had a mission to complete.
As Harald poured himself a drink but made the servants wait on him, Lance continued to watch the bailey for Catalina and Essien.
He was finally rewarded for his patience when, about an hour after sunrise, the very woman he was looking for emerged from the keep in the company of her new husband and her two daughters.
They looked like a nice little family, and Lance couldn’t help but feel some jealousy.
Still, it didn’t deter him from what he needed to do.
Catalina and Essien seemed to be heading out of the bailey, probably toward the mass competition field, so Lance decided to follow.
He tried to stay well back from them, following at a distance, but the truth was that the pair wasn’t looking at anything other than each other.
Lance could have been right behind them and they more than likely wouldn’t have noticed.
Once they went through the gatehouse, Lance could see that they were heading straight into the competitors’ encampment, and given the fact that Harald’s encampment was right at the edge, he was able to see when they entered the big de Efford tent.
And then he sank back against the great hall of Lioncross, in the shadows, and waited.
Lance wasn’t going to approach Catalina with Essien around.
He thought ahead to the mass competition, and knowing Essien would be competing in it meant that Catalina would be alone, at least while he was on the field.
He was starting to think that it might be the best time to approach her, being alone as a spectator, when Essien abruptly emerged from the tent with Catalina’s daughters in tow.
He had them by the hand and was leading them in the direction of the tournament field.
Lance watched them until they disappeared from view.
That meant that Catalina was alone inside the tent.
He had to move now.
Quickly, Lance came out of the shadows of the gatehouse, quickly moving toward the encampment.
Harald’s men were on guard, but they knew him and didn’t try to stop him.
They were well aware that he’d been relieved of his post, but there wasn’t one man there who wasn’t fairly apathetic toward Harald.
The appearance of Lance didn’t mean much to them unless he was going to set the tent on fire or something else so blatant, so Lance simply walked by them, his focus on Harald’s big tent.
Once he reached the flap, he stuck his head inside and saw Catalina on the opposite side, going through a trunk.
He stepped inside.
“My lady?”
Startled, Catalina whirled around to see Lance standing by the tent opening. After a moment of trepidation at his appearance, a mood reflected in her expression, she simply turned around and resumed what she was doing.
“I was married last night,” she said. “If you know what is good for you, you will not be here when my husband returns. I do not think he would like it if you were here, alone, with me.”
“I realize that, my lady,” Lance said. “But I do have a purpose.”
“What purpose?”
“I have been asked to show you something and to ask you if you know where it comes from.”
Catalina had a few items in her hands, standing up from the trunk and looking at him in puzzlement. “You what?”
“I have an object I would like to see if you can identify.”
“What kind of an object?”
“I will show it to you if you will give me a moment of your time.”
Catalina grunted impatiently. She still had a few things in her hands, now putting the items on the nearest table. Brushing off her hands, she faced him.
“Very well,” she said. “What are you supposed to show me? And who asked you to do it?”
“A man who calls himself Al,” Lance said.
“I saw him lurking on the grounds of Lioncross last night, wrapped up in a cloak and something around his head, covering up everything but his eyes. I caught him, thinking he was a thief, but he told me that he was looking for either you or your father. It was an odd story, really. He said that he’d had a terrible accident a couple of years ago and did not remember his identity, but he had something in his possession that he thought you could identify.
He said that you might know who gave it to him. ”
Catalina was clearly impatient. “That sounds very strange,” she said, moving to open another trunk. “If he does not remember his identity, why would he think I could?”
“I do not know, my lady, only that he hoped you could.”
She sighed and turned back to the trunk in front of her. “Show me what it is and let’s be done with it,” she said. “I am very busy.”
Lance reached into his coin purse and dug the cross out.
Catalina was digging through the trunk when he extended the cross to her.
She noticed that he was holding an item out to her and, pausing in her rummaging, took it from him.
She didn’t look at it right away. As he stood back politely, she finally tore her attention away from the trunk and looked at the item in her hand.
Her first glance was unreadable. She simply looked at it.
But she looked again, more closely, and as Lance watched, her eyes widened and she seemed to stagger sideways.
It was as if a great, unseen wind was blowing at her, trying to knock her off her feet.
She had to grab on to a chair to steady herself.
“My… my…” she gasped. “My… God!”
She nearly shouted the last word, and Lance’s brow furrowed. “Do you know what that is, my lady?” he asked.
Catalina couldn’t even answer him at first. When she did, all that came out was a cry of anguish.
In fact, it made Lance flinch because it was so loud.
Suddenly, de Efford soldiers were in the tent flap, making sure Lady Catalina wasn’t being attacked, and Lance simply looked at them and shrugged his shoulders.
He didn’t know what was going on any more than they did.
Catalina shrieked again and practically fell into the chair she’d been gripping, still looking at that small, twisted cross.
Lance waved the soldiers away before approaching her, slowly.
It was clear that something was very, very amiss.
“My lady?” he said timidly. “What is it? What is wrong?”
She was staring at the cross, unable to speak. As Lance watched, her eyes filled with tears and she began gasping.
“Wh-who…” she stammered. “Who gave this to you?”
Lance pointed in the general direction of the tournament field. “As I said, I saw a man lurking about here,” he said. “My lady… he was horribly scarred. I’ve never seen anything like it. He said it was a fire that had injured him so. He—”
She screamed again, leaping to her feet and putting her hands over her ears. “Nay!” she cried. “Nay, do not tell me! I do not want to hear any more!”
“I do not understand.”
She suddenly whirled on him, rushing to him and trying to give him the cross.
“Take this back to the man,” she said in a panic.
“Tell him I do not know what it is. I do not know anything about it. Lance, do this for me and do not tell a soul of this incident, and I shall make sure you have a good position, somewhere. But you must forget about this and never speak of it again. Will you promise me?”
He was confused, but he was also concerned. She was horribly overwrought and he had no idea why. He didn’t take the cross from her, merely eyed it.
“My lady, are you in trouble?” he said, reaching out to steady her because she was trembling so badly. “If you are in trouble, let me find your husband. He will want to know.”
“Nay!” she cried again, stepping back from him and tripping over the borrowed dress she was still wearing from yesterday. She ended up on her bottom on the cold earthen floor. “You will never speak of this to—”
She was cut off when Harald suddenly appeared in the doorway.
He’d been returning from the great hall of Lioncross, nearing the edge of the encampment, when he heard the screaming coming from his tent.
That had sent him on the run, noting that his own soldiers seemed concerned but indecisive, so he burst into the tent to see what was amiss.
One look at his daughter on the ground, with Lance standing over her, and he was filled with rage.
Shock and rage.
Even if Harald didn’t particularly care about his daughter, he was enraged that Lance should be here.
Again. After Harald had banished him, the man had had the gall to return.
Perhaps he was even beating on Catalina because of the sins of her father.
The fact that she was here was puzzling, too, but he didn’t stop to ask questions.
All he knew was that his daughter was on the ground and Lance was standing over her, and he was compelled to punish the man.
He grabbed the first thing he could find, which happened to be an iron sconce near the door.
He wielded it like a club.
“You!” he boomed. “What are you doing here?”
Before Lance could speak, he had a sconce flying at his head as Harald tried to decapitate him.
He ducked it, but in doing so, he put his arm up to protect himself, and that push-back motion sent Harald’s momentum sideways.
The old man, unused to swinging heavy sconces around, stumbled to his left, unable to stop himself.
Unfortunately for him, there was a big wooden rack that held the weapons for his guards right in his path.
The swords were all stored with the blade side down, but the spears and maces were not.
There were two particular maces that had bulbous, spiked ends and then enormous, daggerlike spikes coming out from the top of the bulbs, pointing straight up.
Harald’s momentum had him crashing into the rack of weapons and the daggerlike spike of one of the maces ramming straight into his throat while the spike from the other mace pierced his right eye, through his brain, and emerged through the back of his skull.
Harald collapsed on the cache of weapons, dead.
Catalina’s screams could be heard all over the encampment.