The Fallen One (12 page)

He lifted his
eyebrows thoughtfully. As he did so, horns from the tournament field began to
sound, calling the combatants to the arena for the practice bouts.
 
Mathias fully intended to participate but
before he could, he had to get Cathlina moving. He extended his elbow to her.

“Let me take
you back to your family,” he said. “The tournament will be starting soon.”

Cathlina took
his elbow without hesitation and he began to lead her back the way they had
come.
 
Things were calm now between them,
and the feel of her hand against his arm was comforting and natural.
 
It had been so long since Mathias had felt a
woman against him, in any form, that the simple touch of her hand was enough to
set his heart fluttering.

“Please
answer my question” Cathlina said as he helped her navigate a muddy puddle of
mashed grass. “What will you do once your honor is restored and you are a
mighty knight again?”

He shrugged. “I
will have my titles and property returned to me at some point,” he said as they
walked. “I never believed otherwise. When the time comes, I will assume my
place in the king’s stable of knights. I will swear fealty to him.”

“When do you
think this will happen?”

“It is
difficult to know. Time has a way of healing bitter memories.
 
Mayhap it will be next year, or mayhap in ten
years. I do not know.”

“And you
remain so patient?”

He thought he
had been very patient, but remembering his conversation with his father
whereupon he discussed winning the tournament and using the proceeds to start a
new life in Scotland, perhaps he hadn’t been patient at all.

“Nay,” he
shook his head ruefully. “I am not as patient as I would like to think.
 
Something has happened recently that has made
me reconsider my patient stance.”

“What has happened?”

He gave her a
side-long glance. “I met a young lady who has made me think that mayhap there
is more to life than scratching out a living as a smithy,” he said. “She has
opened my eyes to a great many things.”

Cathlina had
no idea he was speaking of her and she began to feel a good deal of
disappointment and jealousy.

“Oh,” she
said, somewhat subdued. “Then… then I wish you good fortune in your future
endeavors.”

He could tell
that she didn’t mean it and he suspected why. In fact, her reaction gave him
great hope and happiness.
 
As they passed
through the small cottages and onto the avenue that led towards the smithy
shack, he put a big hand over the small fingers clutching his elbow.

“I have a
question to ask you, Lady Cathlina,” he said. “May I be so bold?”

She picked up
the damp hem of her skirt to prevent it from dragging in the dust and creating
mud. “Of course.”

“Are you
spoken for?”

Cathlina was
watching the dusty road pass under her feet, her damp slipper with a brown ring
around the bottom.
 
The softly uttered
words were not the combination of words she had expected and when the meaning
struck her, she looked at him in shock.

“Am I…?” she repeated,
eyes wide. “Why… why would you ask?”
    
“Cathlina!”

The shout
came from down the avenue.
 
Cathlina and
Mathias turned to see Tate approaching.
 
His expression was filled with concern, with relief, as he quickly came
upon them.
  
His focus was completely on
Cathlina.

“Cathlina,
are you well?” he asked. “I am happy to see that Mathias was able to find you.”

Cathlina
looked rather embarrassed, her gaze moving between Tate and Mathias. “I… I am
well,” she assured Tate. “I am sorry if I caused you concern. I was… well, I am
sure my father is looking for me.
 
I was
simply trying to make my way back and lost my way.”

Tate took her
from Mathias. “I will take you to him.”

Cathlina
looked at Mathias in panic as Tate pulled her away. “Mathias,” she called, but
realized she couldn’t say what she was thinking. She scrambled as she thought
of a way to phrase it.
 
“In… in answer to
your question, it depends on who is asking. Were you inquiring for yourself,
perchance?”

Mathias’ eyes
glimmered at her as Tate tried to lead her away. “I was.”

She grinned. “In
that case, I am not.”

He laughed
softly, watching Tate urge her down the avenue with him.
 
Cathlina giggled, waving at him as he waved
back.
 
It was a sweet moment in spite of
Tate’s presence, the looks between Cathlina and Mathias full of potential and
promise.

Mathias
lowered his hand, watching her disappear from view with her enormous cousin,
the vision of her smiling face the last memory he held to him.
 
He held it close as he headed back for the
smithy stall, keeping the vision of her as his inspiration.
 
All his life, he’d been told what cause to
fight for whether or not he truly believed in it.
 
That sense of duty had cost him
everything.
 
He wasn’t going to make the
same mistake again. Now, he had his own cause to fight for.

He had a
tournament to participate in.

CHAPTER NINE

    
By
the time the tournament festivities began around mid-day, the breeze had picked
up and the standards surrounding the field were snapping briskly.
 
Fat, puffy clouds danced across the blue
expanse of sky, carrying with them the threat of rain as they passed.
 
In the tournament arena below, the perimeter
of the competition area was packed with spectators.

    
The
lists containing the crowd were small and hastily constructed, and they were
already full of people.
 
There was a
section for the Earl of Carlisle’s family, now full of Toby and her five
children – Roman, daughter Catherine, the rambunctious twins Dylan and Alex,
and baby Sophie.
 
There was also a seat
for Tate but since he was competing, Saer sat upon it and laughed at the antics
of his cousin’s children.
 
The rough boys
were busy playing knights, pushing each other down, and adding to the fun.
  
Watching the rough twins roll their older
brother was great entertainment.

    
Cathlina,
Roxane, Abechail, and Rosalund had a rough bench to sit on but it was
enough.
 
They had a great view of the
field.
 
At their feet on the
rough-boarded floor was a linen cloth spread out containing a small table with
food upon it.
 
There was an abundance of
fruit, bread, cheese, plus little puddings in wooden cups that were made from
mint and lemon and honey.
 

There was
also something that they had never seen before, something that the young de
Lara children scooped up out of a earthenware bowl and shoved gleefully into
their mouths; upon tasting the dish, Cathlina and Abechail were told it was
called
pastos,
a dish consisting of
long, cooked sheets of wheat and eggs, all mixed up in a sauce that consisted
of cheese, milk, nutmeg, and a few other ingredients. It was creamy and
delicious.
 
It was a dish that Tate and
Toby had collected on their travels to Italy years go and the de Lara children
ate it quite regularly.

As the earl’s
young children and Abechail sat on the floor of the lists and ate, Cathlina and
Roxane were more interested in the knights that were not starting to take the
field for practice.
 
The first series of
games would be the joust and a big wooden guide had been built in the center of
the arena to keep opponents from crashing into each other as they made their
charge.
 
Even now, workmen were finishing
with the reinforcement of the guides as the field marshals kept close watch on
both the workmen and the knights that were thundering around the field.

It was
beginning to get exciting.
 
Saer came off
of his seat and stood at the railing with Cathlina and Roxane, watching the
knights take the field astride their massive war horses.
 
Saer had allowed Dunstan and Beauson to enter
the competition to represent Kirklinton Castle, and they entered the field
fairly early clad in the colors of the house of Saer de Lara.
 
Their tunics bore a big yellow axe right on
the chest.

    
“Papa,
are you disappointed that you are not competing?” Cathlina asked as a big
knight in a green and black tunic blew past.

    
Saer
watched the knight, too, scrutinizing him. “I am not,” he said flatly.
“Although tournaments were great sport when I was young, I am afraid it is
indeed a younger man’s sport. If I were to compete today, I would be easily
defeated.”

    
“Did
you win many tournaments?” Roxane wanted to know.

    
Saer’s
attention was on the Earl of Carlisle now making an appearance on the field, a
big man on a black and white charger bearing a tunic of crimson and gold.
 
Toby and her oldest son, a handsome and well
behaved lad named Roman, began to yell and wave at the earl. Tate thundered
onto the field and the crowd, seeing that the earl had arrived, began to cry
for him as well.
 
Behind Tate came
another knight bearing the earl’s colors astride a muscular dappled gray
charger.
 
When the two of them thundered
out into the arena, the energy level of the crowd surged.

    
“Who
is the other knight bearing the earl’s colors?” Roxane asked, squinting at the
distant figure.

    
Saer
was squinting, too. “I believe it is St. Hèver ,” he said, then cast his
daughter a long glance. “You will not make a nuisance of yourself with him, do
you hear? The man is not interested in marriage.”

    
Roxane’s
lip stuck out in a pout as she turned away from her father, trying very hard
not to watch every move St. Hèver made as he deftly controlled his horse on the
other side of the arena.
 

    
“I
was not going to,” she sniffed, offended.
 
“I simply wanted to know who it was, ‘tis all.”

    
Saer
cocked an eyebrow as if he didn’t believe her, returning his attention to the
knights that were now starting to circle the arena, warming up their
chargers.
  
Cathlina glanced at her
sister, trying not to make eye contact because she was sure her sister was
already upset about the fact St. Hèver was here and Cathlina didn’t want to
confess that she had seen the man earlier. It would only inflame Roxane.
 
As the chargers rushed past, kicking up clods
of earth, she sought to change the subject.

    
“There
are quite a lot of knights here,” she said to her father. “How many do you
think there are?”

    
Saer
watched de Lara blow by him, followed by St. Hèver. “At least thirty or forty men,”
he said. “They have already drawn lots to see who will compete against each
other. See that wall on the opposite side of the arena? They will hang banners
there so we will know who is competing against whom.”

    
“Papa?”
Abechail wedged herself in between Roxane and Saer, tugging on her father’s
sleeve. “Papa, there is a vendor selling candied fruits. I saw a girl with
some. Can I please have some?”

    
Saer
didn’t want to leave now that the knights were warming up, but he couldn’t very
well let Abechail go by herself and he certainly couldn’t deny her.
 
Hurriedly, he grabbed her hand and very nearly
pulled her off the lists.
 
Young Roman
was invited to go along as Saer and the two children went in search of sweets.
 
Cathlina and Roxane didn’t much care, fixed
on the knights as they were.

    
As
they were watching Tate and Kenneth make practice runs along the guide, a
knight on an enormous bay stallion entered the field.
  
Bearing a tunic of straight yellow without
any of the elaborate embroidery the other knights had, he was a massive man in
heavy protection as he thundered across the arena, struggling with his
disobedient horse.
 
The charger was very
young and very excitable, and it was difficult not to notice the pair as the
charger kicked up his white feet and generally behaved madly.
 
He was so beautiful, however, that the
struggle between man and beast became mesmerizing to watch.
 

    
Cathlina’s
attention was divided between Tate, Kenneth, and the new knight with the wild
horse.
 
 
Soon enough, she was only watching the knight
with the excitable horse, as was nearly everyone else around her, because the
pair was making practice runs along the guide.
 
When they made a run past another horse, the excitable bay tried to savage
the other charger and the field marshals were called in.
  
It was one thing for the big chargers to
savage each other in battle but quite another to have it happen in a
tournament.

    
“Mayhap
they will not let him compete,” Roxane said to her sister, pointing at the
knight with the agitated horse in the middle of the arena as he spoke with two
of the field marshals. “That horse is very mean.”

    
Cathlina
shrugged. “They are all very mean,” she said, indicating a knight off to their
left whose horse was muzzled with a great steel cage. “Look at that horse; they
have to put a barrier around his mouth.”

    
They
were both watching the knight with the muzzled horse when two big chargers
suddenly roared up beside them.
 
Dirt
flew up, hitting Roxane in her greased-up hair, and she shrieked.
 
Cathlina found herself carefully picking the
dirt out of her sister’s hair as Tate and Kenneth lifted their visors.

    
“My
lady,” Tate said to his wife, who was rising from her seat to greet him. “Do
you have a favor for me to carry before this great and terrible production
begins?”

    
Toby
grinned her lovely white smile, fumbling around in her long sleeve before
pulling free a small white kerchief.
 
As
she went to hand it to him, the twins decided they wanted to ride with their
father and started climbing up on the railing to get at him.
 
Cathlina and Toby pulled the boys down as
they demanded to go with their father.
  
As Toby admonished the twins on their behavior, her beautiful five year
old daughter, Catherine, calmly went to her father and extended a little posy
she had picked that morning on the way to the arena. Tate took it from the
little girl as if it was the finest treasure.

    
“Thank
you, Cate,” he said, smiling at her. “This is the best favor I have ever
received.”

    
As
the little girl beamed, Kenneth put in. “And there is no favor for me?” he
asked her. “I am deeply hurt, Catie. I thought you loved me best.”

 
   
Cate giggled as Roxane spoke up. “You may
have my favor, Sir Kenneth,” she said, pulling forth an elaborate and
heady-smelling piece of silk from her bosom.
 
She held it out to him, feigning shyness and
batting her eyelashes. “I would be honored if you would carry it.”

    
Fortunately,
Kenneth was adept at keeping an emotionless façade.
 
His first instinct was to recoil and run
away, but he fought it.
 
He faced Roxane’s
offensive bravely.

    
“I
am honored, Lady Roxane,” he said, although he didn’t mean a word of it. “But
you must not feel pity for me. There are dozens of young knights here that
would be very proud to wear your favor.
 
Surely you do not want to give it to an old knight like me.”

    
Roxane
was flattered and offended at the same time.
 
She looked around at the other competitors, rather uncertainly, until
Cathlina came to her rescue.

    
“She
does not know any of the other competitors, Sir Kenneth,” she said. “Since you
do not have a favored young lady today, my sister honors you with her offer.
 
She will cheer you louder than anyone.”

    
Roxane
was back to her false modesty pose as Kenneth began to sweat. But he knew he
couldn’t get out of it so he simply nodded.

“I am
humbled, my lady,” he said without a hint of defeat in his voice.

    
Roxane
smiled brightly as she extended the kerchief.
 
Kenneth took it and, with a smell that nearly knocked him off his horse,
quickly tucked it into his armor and tried to get it as far away from his nose
as he could.
 
With a stiff bob of the
head, he slammed his faceplate down and thundered off.
 
Roxane watched him wistfully.

    
“Mayhap
Father should ask him again if he is agreeable to a betrothal,” she whispered
to Cathlina. “He seemed very pleased by my favor, don’t you think?”

    
Cathlina
wasn’t so sure but she nodded anyway. “I do,” she said. “He is very handsome.
You would make a fine match with him.”

    
Her
heart full of admiration for Sir Kenneth, Roxane moved away from the rail to
regain her seat as Cathlina remained, watching the knights as they finished
warming their horses and, one by one, began leaving the field.
 
She noticed that Tate was still lingering at
the rail, holding his wife’s hand sweetly and kissing her fingers as they
murmured soft words between them.
 
She
noticed how much in love they were, a love that most women wanted but seldom
achieved.
 
Love, like the kind her cousin
shared with his wife, was very rare.
 
Her
heart tugged a bit for want of that kind of love.
 
She wondered if she’d ever be fortunate
enough to have it.

    
Tate
kissed his wife one last time and lowered his face plate, charging off in the
same direction Kenneth had taken.
  
Cathlina continued to linger by the rail, watching the knights, her mind
wandering to Mathias and wondering if she should try and slip away to see him
now that her father was occupied.
 
Her
mother kept close watch of her, however, and she casually turned around to see
that her mother and Roxane were in intense conversation. No doubt plotting on
how to wrest a betrothal out of Sir Kenneth, Cathlina thought wryly.
  
She thought the man had looked rather
stricken when he had been forced to take Roxane’s favor because he was no-doubt
fearful of what that would lead to.
 
Fighting off a smile at the memory, she was caught off-guard when the
knight on the wild bay charger suddenly pulled up to the railing.