Chapter Twelve #2
He didn’t move for a moment. Slowly, he shut the door and came back into the room. “I am the commander of your escort,” he said. “If you do not permit me to speak with you, it will look very strange to everyone, including Alex. The man is already….”
He suddenly stopped himself and turned for the door, swiftly, but she came towards him, stopping him. “Wait,” she said, noticing he wouldn’t look at her. “What is this about Alexander? The man is already… what?”
He was vastly unhappy with the question and even more unhappy with the answer. “Nothing,” he said. “But be aware that Alexander de Lohr also has a few conquests under his belt no matter what he tells you. He has bedded more than his share of women.”
She was puzzled. “What do you mean ‘no matter what he tells you’?” she asked. “Why should I care what he tells me?”
Gates simply shook his head. Throwing open the door, he nearly bolted through it before she could stop him.
Kathalin stood there a moment, indecisive, wondering why he had run out as he had.
Something to do with Alexander, something in his words…
in his tone… but she wasn’t very good at reading men, or understanding them, but something told her that something was amiss.
Gates had more to say about Alexander but wouldn’t say it.
Curiosity had the better of her and she threw the door open, rushing out after him.
The Raven had several sleeping rooms on the second floor plus a loft, and the common room below was crowded with people eating and drinking and laughing.
Gathering the heavy blue brocade skirt, she made her way down the narrow stairs into the smoky, smelly room, her gaze seeking out Gates.
It was so crowded, with a heavy haze of smoke in the air, that it was difficult to see those at the far end of the room and as she came to the bottom of the narrow stairs, she became apprehensive of all of the people around her.
It was the first time she’d been away from her escort, without anyone protecting her, and she suddenly felt fearful and vulnerable.
The world is a wicked place, Mother Benedicta used to say.
As she looked at the unfamiliar faces and listened to the loud laughter, she found no comfort or joy in it.
In fact, she was increasingly uncomfortable.
Perhaps it was best if she returned to her chamber and remained there until Gates decided to make another appearance.
Something told her that he would.
Unfortunately, she didn’t get very far. No sooner as she turned around to retrace her steps back up the stairs than someone grabbed her by the arm.
“Lady, do not go!”
With a shriek, Kathalin turned to see that a big soldier had her by the arm. He was clad in mail, and a woolen tunic of blue, and his dark hair was plastered against his forehead from dirt and sweat. He smiled leeringly at her with teeth that had a green line on them against his gums.
“Come and share my meal,” he said, tugging her right off the stairs. “I saw you come down the stairs, lady, and should enjoy your company.”
Terrified, Kathalin yanked her arm away and made a break for the stairs again but he grabbed her by the skirt, which trailed out behind her, and yanked hard, throwing her off-balance so that she fell backwards and smacked her bum, and lower back, against the hard-packed floor of the common room.
Stunned, she wasn’t fast enough to stand up again before the soldier was scooping her up under the arms.
“Come along, lass,” he said as those around them laughed at her failure to break free. “Come and talk to me whilst I eat.”
Kathalin turned into a fighting, snarling cat. She began swinging her arms around, her open palms making contact with his head.
“Let me go, you fool!” she hissed. “Take your hands from me!”
The soldier was unimpressed. “So you found your tongue, did you?” he asked. “Good. I should like for you to use it on me later… in more appropriate places.”
The crowd around them laughed loudly at his lewd comment as he made a swipe for Kathalin again but she lashed out, taking her nails across his face. His humor fled as he touched the three scratches on his cheek.
“You are going to regret that,” he said quietly.
More terror filled her, terrified of what was going to happen now.
Kathalin stumbled backwards again, trying to get away from him but she was not used to such a long, heavy skirt.
As she fell to one knee, something rushed past her and she heard the soldier grunt.
Men began standing up, all around her, as more men rushed in and, suddenly, there was a nasty fight going on over her head.
Frightened for an entirely new reason now, Kathalin ducked underneath the nearest table and tried not to get stepped on.
There was a nasty fight going on over her head and she tried to stay beneath the table as it shifted around, being buffeted by men fighting around it.
She held on to the legs of the table so it wouldn’t get knocked over and her with it.
But suddenly, a big, gloved hand reached under the table, grabbing for her, and she screamed until she saw Gates’ face as he bent over, trying to pull her out from beneath the table.
Gates!
It was relief beyond description as she propelled herself out from beneath the table and into his embrace.
Gates put his big arms around her, pulling her from the fight, but not before she noticed that the soldier who had grabbed her was bleeding out all over the floor.
There was also a bloodied sword in Gates’ hand.
As he pulled her towards the stairs, it began to occur to her what had happened.
“Did you kill him?” she asked, pointing to the bleeding soldier even as he tried to take her up the stairs. “Gates, was it you?”
Gates didn’t pause to see what she was pointing at.
He knew. “Much was his mistake for putting his hands on you,” he said.
“One of my soldiers saw you come down the stairs and came to find me out in the yard behind the inn. I was just coming inside when that soldier grabbed you. I saw you fall. Are you injured?”
Kathalin realized she was halfway up the stairs at this point, herded by Gates.
“Nay, I am not,” she said, somewhat stunned at what had just happened.
“But you… you clearly saved me from him. God only knows what would have happened had you not come when you did. That is not the first time you have saved me, Gates.”
She had said it with admiration but he ignored the tone in her voice and the pleasure it provoked. He didn’t say anything until they reached the top of the stairs. Then, his attitude was somewhat cold and professional.
“You should not have come out of your chamber to begin with,” he said. “What was so important that you had to come out and risk yourself like that?”
She paused to look at him as the fight died down in the common room below. Why had she come? It was because of his comment about Alexander but, given the situation at the moment, she didn’t want to bring that up. It seemed very foolish to do so. Feeling embarrassed, she lowered her head.
“I… I apologize,” she said, turning for her chamber. “I will not do it again.”
Gates watched her walk away. “Kathalin,” he called after her softly. When she stopped to look at him, he lifted his eyebrows for emphasis. “Why did you come to the common room? Are you in need of something?”
She didn’t want to tell him but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She was coming to realize she really wasn’t very good at keeping her mouth shut where Gates was concerned.
“I came to find you,” she said, shoving open her chamber door.
“I came to find you and I do not know why I should have. I thought mayhap to say something to you but I do not remember what that was so I will bid you a good evening, Sir Knight. Thank you for coming to my aid and I apologize for the inconvenience.”
She was in her chamber slamming the door before he could stop her.
Once inside, she felt as if she was dying.
All of her insides were twisting, her heart and soul were twisting, and she couldn’t control the pain.
God, she just couldn’t control it. Every time she saw him, the pain became worse and worse.
She just didn’t know how to deal with it.
The tears came then, heavy wracking sobs.
She collapsed next to her bed, sobbing her heart out, unable to withstand the burden of her love for Gates.
She wept for the rejection, for the confusion of the day, and for the passion she would never know.
There were so many things to weep over and she sobbed over feelings she never knew she was capable of.
As she sat on the floor, leaning up against the bed, she didn’t see the chamber door quietly open.
It was Gates.
When Kathalin had slammed the door she had failed to lock it; he knew because he had listened for the bolt and it was never thrown. He moved up against the door, listening for her, and hearing only tears. It was a crushing thing to hear and he knew he couldn’t simply leave her like that.
She had told him she didn’t want to see him and, at first, he had believed her because he had fled her chamber and had gone downstairs, into the yard behind the tavern simply to clear his head away from her and away from the noise of the tavern.
But one of his soldiers had summoned him back inside almost immediately with news that Lady Kathalin had come down to the common room, and Gates had bolted in through the back of the tavern in time to see Kathalin being pawed by a drunken soldier.
After that, rage and fear took over and he had killed the man who had grabbed Kathalin.
It had been the most natural of things to protect her from harm, something he would have done a thousand times over again, even for so ungrateful a woman.
Then he had whisked her back to her chamber to ensure she remained safe.
But even after she had gone back into her room, slamming the door in his face, he knew he simply couldn’t leave her again.
He was confused, and heartbroken, but still, he couldn’t leave her again.
He’d tried and it hadn’t worked. Therefore, he was stuck – stuck loving this woman and having no idea what to do about it. He had no idea what to say anymore.
He had no idea what to think.
So he entered the chamber and made his way over to her as she huddled next to the bed, weeping.
It broke his heart to hear her cry and he lowered himself down onto the floor next to her, his back against the bed.
He simply wanted to be near her as they shared their mutual pain. It was an oddly unifying bond.
“I am here,” he whispered so as not to startle her. “I will not speak to you and you do not have to speak to me, but please allow me to sit here. Do not tell me to go away again, for I cannot. I simply want to sit here, with you, if only to hear you breathe.”
Kathalin initially jumped at the sound of his voice, startled that he had crept into the room, but his whisper was gentle and soothing, and it was something that gave her some comfort.
She wanted him close yet she didn’t. She didn’t want to speak to him yet she did.
God, she had no idea what she wanted. All she knew was that she loved him and their situation was as complicated as it was precarious.
As she placed her head against the side of the bed, weeping quietly, she reached a hand behind her, extending it, reaching for him even though she couldn’t see him.
She knew he was close for she could feel his warmth, his very presence close to her.
When Gates grasped her hand, kissing it, it was the most comforting yet the most painful thing she could have ever imagined.
They remained that way all night.
The next morning, any further jewelry shopping and even the apothecary was forgotten.
Kathalin had no more interested in shopping and was simply eager to leave, as was Gates.
He’d spent the night holding her hand, knowing that his inability to keep himself from falling in love with Kathalin de Lara had cost him everything.
It had cost him the rest of his life.
The escort from Hyssington headed home before first light.