Chapter Twenty-Five #3
A woman’s scream pierced the smoky haze.
There were sounds of a struggle. They could hear grunting and thumping, as if people were fighting for their lives.
Sounds of weeping filled the air and Saer went mad, yanking at the iron grate and screaming his wife’s name.
Meanwhile, Mathias had taken his two iron rods and was attempting to pick the lock with shaking hands when the manservant suddenly appeared again. A key was thrust into Mathias’ face.
“Here,” he rasped.
Mathias snatched the key and threw the lock, noticing that the servant was covered in blood.
Heart in his throat, he had to crawl into the vault on his hands and knees because the smoke became very thick from the waist level on up.
He could hear Sebastian and Saer behind him, all of them crawling towards the end of the room where a jumble of people seemed strewn about the ground.
Mathias caught sight of his wife’s hair before he ever saw her face, and that was his guide, like a beacon. He closed in on her in a flash.
Cathlina was pale and unconscious. Mathias grabbed her and, still on his hands and knees, somehow managed to drag her out of the vault.
By the time he hit the stairwell, he was able to stand in the thinning smoke and he carried her out of the darkness and into the light above.
All the while, he could hear panicked little gasps, unaware that they were his until he entered the destroyed hall above.
Then, he realized he had been in an utter panic mode.
Taking a look at his wife’s unconscious face, he burst into tears of pure anguish.
Weeping, he carried his wife outside into the fresh air.
Once he was free of the hall, he collapsed onto his knees and held Cathlina against him, so tightly that he was nearly squeezing her to death.
All the while, he wept deeply, his face buried in her neck.
There was no other way he could possibly react, finding his wife in a vault full of smoke and blood.
He didn’t even know if she was dead or alive, so he loosened his grip and lay her down on the soft earth of Kirklinton’s bailey.
“Cathlina?” he sobbed, patting her cheeks to see if she would react. “Open your eyes, love, ’tis me. Open your eyes and look at me.”
She lay as still as death. Mathias put his ear against her chest and he could hear a faint heartbeat. It was rapid and weak. He rubbed at her chest, trying to stimulate her into taking a deep breath, but she remained limp. Finally, he slapped her lightly on the cheek.
“Cathlina?” he said, gaining control over his tears. “Cathlina, open your eyes and look at me. All is well, I swear it. Open your eyes now.”
As he continued to alternately pat and rub her cheeks, Sebastian came up beside him bearing another limp body. Mathias caught sight of Roxane as Sebastian laid her carefully on the ground.
“How is Cathlina?” Sebastian said, breathless with exertion.
Mathias shook his head. “She does not wake but she is breathing,” he said, his voice trembling. “Is the sister dead?”
Sebastian looked at pale, unconscious Roxane.
“This one is not,” he said, “but it looks as if the mother went mad. The servants said that she thought the Scots were overtaking them so she stabbed herself before anyone could stop her. The servants prevented her from doing any damage to the daughters.”
Mathias lifted his head, looking at his brother with his red-rimmed eyes. “Where is the father?”
“In the vault. He is trying to keep the mother from bleeding to death. Cathlina and her sisters are fortunate to have survived.”
“Where is the little one?”
“Still down there.”
“You had better bring her up into the clean air.”
Sebastian stood up. “I will get her.”
Mathias watched his brother walk away before closing his eyes for a moment, tightly, and muttering a prayer of thanks for God’s infinite mercy. But he was jolted from his prayers when Cathlina began to cough violently. Startled, he sat her upright in an attempt to help her clear her lungs.
“There, now,” he said, gently rubbing her back. “You are safe. Breathe easy, love. Take a few deep breaths and breathe easy.”
Dazed and feeling ill, Cathlina continued to cough and hack, struggling for every breath. Eventually, she calmed enough so that she was able to breathe more evenly. She clutched Mathias, the steadying force as her world rocked, opening her eyes to his anxious, handsome face.
“Mathias,” she gasped. “You… you came.”
She sounded lucid and it was enough to drive him to tears once again. “Aye,” he said tightly. “I came. Everything will be well again, I swear it.”
Cathlina was struggling to clear her lungs and her mind.
The situation was still very disorienting as she looked around, trying to gain her bearings.
But her focus fell on Mathias once again and she put her arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as she could manage for all of her weakness.
She still continued to cough even as she spoke.
“The Scots came,” she told him. “My father said the vault would be the safest place for us so he locked us in and gave me the key. How did I get out here?”
“I brought you out,” he answered, kissing her smoke-smelling hair with the greatest satisfaction. “How do you feel?”
Cathlina coughed, her head on his shoulder because she was truly too weak to do much more than simply lean on him. His warmth and strength against her felt wonderful.
“Not very well,” she admitted. “It is hard to breathe. What happened?”
Mathias was calming now that she was in his arms and, seemingly, not seriously injured. It was all he could do not to weep with gratitude. In fact, given the state of the hall and the situation in general, he could hardly believe it.
“The Scots burned the great hall,” he told her. “The smoke traveled to the vault. I think you must have breathed in a fair amount before we were able to get to you.”
She lifted her head and looked at him. “How did you know to come?” she asked, incredulous. “How did you know I was in danger?”
Mathias gazed into her beautiful face, thinking a lot of different things at that moment. But he was mostly thinking that his wife was safe, and in his arms, and that was the only thing that mattered to him. She was the only thing that mattered to him.
“I will always be there to keep you from danger,” he said softly, stroking a pale cheek.
“The first time I met you, I saved you from danger. I will always be there, Cathlina, no matter where you are. Look over your shoulder and I shall be there. Look into the sky and I will be gazing down upon you. Do you understand that you drew me out of despair and gave me a reason to live again? You redeemed me, my sweet Cathlina, and I will always be there for you, in this life or any other, to keep you safe and love you until the end of time. That is my destiny in life. You have given that to me, and I am grateful.”
Cathlina smiled at him, touching his stubbled face, watching as he tenderly kissed her fingers. “All I did was love you,” she whispered. “As a smithy or as a knight, all I did was love you. As for your destiny, I am glad we will live it together.”
Mathias kissed her, tenderly, sampling every taste and texture she had to offer. It was overwhelmingly intoxicating, and his joy and relief knew no bounds. She was safe and she was whole, and they had a future to attend to. His life, his future, was far richer because of her.
From the scandal of Roger Mortimer to the victory on the fields of Dupplin Moor, Mathias had found himself once again.
He was no longer the Fallen One but the Redeemed One because no matter what, the confidence and strength that Cathlina gave to him could never be taken away, not by kings or princes or entire armies.
What she gave to him couldn’t be erased.
It was buried deep in the heart of a knight, never to be tarnished again.
Scooping his wife into his enormous arms, he carried her off into the setting sun.