Chapter Ten #3
Fortunately, she didn’t have far to go. As soon as she bolted out of the entrance, an enormous hand reached out to grab her. She gasped with fright until she saw who it was. Deep green eyes twinkled back at her.
“What took you so long?” he asked. “I nearly died of anticipation.”
Cathlina giggled. “You look healthy enough,” she said. “Besides, I had to escape my mother. I cannot be too long or she will start to worry.”
“Ah,” he said, taking her hand and tucking it into the crook of his elbow. “Since we have so little time, what would you like to eat? Something sweet and fattening?”
Cathlina relished the feel of him. His enormous body was warm against her, his fingers clutching hers as they headed down the avenue. She was walking on clouds, thrilled and happy to be with him. “You choose.”
“Do you trust me to?”
“I do.”
He grinned as he led her down the avenue, feeling as prideful as a peacock with her on his arm.
She was radiant and beautiful, and he felt extremely fortunate.
The streets were crowded with people who had come to town to see the tournament and they dodged groups of women and children as they headed to the food vendors.
Already, the smells of roasted meat and baking breads assaulted their nostrils as they entered the area with vendors shouting the culinary virtues of their dishes.
There was a man selling mutton in a honey and cinnamon sauce, all served up on great slabs of toasted brown bread.
Mathias purchased a slab for Cathlina and a slab for himself, taking her to the steps of a nearby cottage where they sat down on the stone steps and delved into their meal.
Cathlina picked at the meal while Mathias shoveled, but all the while, their focus was on each other.
“Are you staying in town tonight?” he asked her as he slurped up the sauce.
She nodded, nibbling on the big hunk of bread. “We brought our travel bedding and our shelters,” she said. “We set them up on the edge of town next to Cousin Tate’s encampment.”
He nodded as he shoved a big bite in his mouth. “Then this is quite an adventure for you.”
She grinned as she licked her fingers. “It is,” she agreed.
“We rarely travel from Kirklinton, mostly because Mother does not like to travel. Oh, she pretends that it is father’s issue and that he does not like his children exposed to the wicked world, but we know it is Mother.
She tells my father that there are wicked people about.
Why, when Abechail was nearly abducted, it only reinforced her stance.
She was none too excited about us coming to town for the tournament, but Father had promised Abbie so he could not very well refuse her. ”
Mathias listened to her, the sweet lilt of her voice, and knew he could listen to her speak forever. “Your little sister,” he ventured. “If it is not too bold to ask, what is her affliction? You said she was unwell.”
Cathlina sobered as she picked at her bread.
“It started a little over a year ago,” she said.
“Abbie was perfectly healthy and then she developed a cough she could not get rid of. She began coughing up blood and had pain in her chest. She lost a good deal of weight and her skin turned such an odd gray color. The physics have all told us that there is something wrong with her lungs. They think it is a cancer of some kind and there is nothing they can do for her. She spends days and weeks in bed taking potions that the physics make for her, but every day she seems to weaken more and more.”
Mathias had stopped chewing, listening to her tragic story. “I am truly sorry for you,” he said quietly. “I wish there was some way to help her.”
Cathlina smiled sadly. “As do I,” she said. “We try to pretend that nothing is wrong. We go on with our days and treat her as we have always treated her because she does not want to feel different.”
“Does she know she is very ill?”
Cathlina nodded. “She knows,” she said softly. “She uses it to her advantage. She has coerced my father into buying her a white pony, a goat, and three puppies. She has an entire menagerie of pets.”
She was giggling as she said it, perhaps trying to deflect her own horrific sadness, and he grinned because she was.
It was evident that she was greatly distressed by it but didn’t want to give into the anguish, not just yet.
That would come soon enough. Mathias shoved the remainder of the meal into his mouth and chewed.
“She is a very fortunate lass to have you as her sister,” he said, gazing at her with some admiration. “I saw you try to fight off her abductor. You are exceptionally brave.”
Cathlina shrugged modestly. “I was terrified out of my mind,” she admitted. “I did not realize what I was doing. All I knew was that I could not let the man take her.”
“It was your bravery that saved her.”
She grinned, embarrassed, not knowing what to say to him. She wasn’t used to having praise heaped upon her, but he did it quite freely and she wasn’t hard pressed to admit she liked it. It made her feel very special. She put a bite of mutton in her mouth and chewed daintily.
“Do you know who you compete against in the next round?” she asked.
He shook his head, brushing off his hands on his boots. “Nay,” he replied. “They will not draw lots until this round is complete.”
“Have you competed in many tournaments?”
“Many, indeed.”
“Here you are!” came an unfamiliar voice into the conversation. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”
Mathias and Cathlina turned to see Sebastian walking up on them. The man’s skull cap was removed and his long, curly red hair flowed freely to his shoulders, dusting the top of the frayed and stained peasant’s tunic he was wearing. Mathias stood up as he brother approached.
“Sebastian,” he greeted, indicating Cathlina. “You remember Lady Cathlina.”
Sebastian looked down at the perfectly beautiful woman seated on the stone steps with the trencher on her lap. He nodded his head in her direction. “Of course I do,” he said. “She makes wonderful cakes.”
Cathlina grinned as she set the trencher aside, her sweet face upturned. “I am glad you enjoyed them,” she said. “It was the least I could do for your assistance.”
Sebastian could see, in that instant, what had his brother so smitten. He hadn’t had much opportunity to speak with her since their introduction and he could see that she was indeed a lovely and well-spoken young woman. If she had Mathias’ attention, then she must be something special, indeed.
“It was our pleasure,” he said as a twinkle came to his green eyes. “In fact, I still have the brute in stocks back behind the stall. I can give you a stick and you can beat him if you wish.”
Cathlina giggled. “As righteous as that sounds, I am afraid I must decline. I will leave the beatings to you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am sure.”
Sebastian was grinning because she was. She had a charming little manner about her. His gaze lingered on her a moment longer before turning his attention to his brother.
“The pole you smashed on de Lara is not repairable,” he told him. “Unless I can find another length of wood, we will have to use the remaining two and hope those do not shatter.”
Mathias scratched his forehead in resignation. “I suppose that was to be expected,” he said. “How is de Lara?”
Sebastian shrugged. “St. Héver said he is well enough,” he replied. “The only reason he forfeited was because his wife was so upset. He plans to watch the rest of the tournament from the lists.”
“Then I am pleased he is not overly injured,” Mathias replied. “I suppose I should visit him. I will tell him I heard of his injury and wanted to see how he fared.”
Sebastian shook his head. “He knows, Mat,” he said, lowering his voice. “Ken said that Tate knew you were posing as de Lovern. If you go and see the man, do not insult his intelligence.”
Mathias merely lifted an eyebrow in response, not particularly surprised that de Lara spotted him in disguise. As he was debating how to handle the situation, he heard a growl behind him.
“You dark bastard… de Reyne, I knew it was you.”
Mathias and Sebastian turned to see the big bald knight that St. Héver had defeated in his first round of the joust standing several feet away.
Quinton de Gare had two other men with him, swarthy warriors that were as dark as they were dirty, and they were all quite focused on Mathias and his brother.
Mathias recognized Quinton. The man had served Mortimer in the ranks of lesser knights, a fairly dumb and unskilled but extremely strong warrior.
There had been times when Mathias had been forced to render discipline on the man for various infractions, which wasn’t unusual with the lesser fighters in a large army, but Mathias never thought there had been any bad blood between them.
Honorable men took their punishment or chastising honorably. At least, that was the expectation.
But Quinton’s tone and words didn’t suggest honor or respect. Instinctively, Mathias moved away from Cathlina, who was still sitting on the steps with her half-eaten meal in her hands. He didn’t want any hostilities aimed at her.
“De Gare,” he said evenly. “I saw that you were competing in the tournament.”
Quinton snorted rudely. “Competed and lost,” he said, agitated. “What are you doing here? I heard the king locked you up in the Tower.”
“He did not,” Mathias said. He didn’t want to engage the man in any level of conversation so he moved to the point. “Is there something I can do for you?”
De Gare grunted, looking between him and Sebastian. His focus lingered on Mathias’ brother. “Sebastian the Red,” he muttered. “I had heard you were dead.”
Sebastian was tensed, ready for a fight. That was simply the way his mind worked. “Not yet,” he replied.