The Fallen One (35 page)

“Cathlina is here,” he told his brother,
sounding edgy and winded. “She is in the vault but we cannot get to her.”

Sebastian could see that his brother, his
cool and collected brother, was verging on panic.
 
“What are you doing?” he asked.

Mathias returned his attention to the ruins
of the smithy shacks. “If I can find pliers and a measure of wire, I may be
able to turn the tumblers on the old lock.”

Sebastian was confused. “What lock?”

“The lock to the vault.”

“But where is the key?”

Mathias looked up at him and Sebastian
swore he saw tears in the man’s eyes. “She has it,” he muttered. “Her father
gave her the key and told her to lock the family into the vault, the safest
place during a siege.
 
Now the vault is
filled with smoke and we cannot rouse her.
 
I must get to her, do you hear?
I
must
.”

Sebastian began throwing aside burnt wood
in an attempt to get to the bottom of the pile.
  
He didn’t even ask what Cathlina was doing at
Kirklinton when she was supposed to be at Carlisle; he didn’t ask any more
questions because he was certain that Mathias would not take any delay, no
matter how small, well.
 
He’d never seen
such terror in Mathias’ eyes and it deeply concerned him.
 
Therefore, he helped them clear out the
debris.

Mathias located a long, slender pair of
pliers that were red-hot.
 
He nearly
burned himself on them but tossed them aside.
 
Saer was still digging through the debris and Sebastian was kicking
aside charred wood and other remains.
 
Finally,
Mathias came up with two long, slender rods of iron usually used when repairing
iron tools.
 
With the pliers in one hand
and the iron rods in the other, he bolted for the great hall.
 
Saer and Sebastian followed.

The soldiers had managed to clear away a
good deal of the debris by the time they returned.
 
The arched entry to the vault was completely
exposed and the old iron grate was torqued and hot from the fire.
 
Mathias dropped to his knees in front of the
old iron grate, his focus on the big iron lock in front of him.

“Can’t we unhinge it?” Sebastian asked as
he tried to gain a better look at the hinges.

Mathias shook his head. “It is impossible,”
he said. “Take a look for yourself; they are very nearly melted to the frame.
Whoever built this built it to withstand a great deal.
 
Nay, little brother, we cannot unhinge it. I
must see if I can open this lock without a key.”

Sebastian stood next to his brother as the
man took the two slender iron rods and poked them inside the old lock, trying
to move the mechanism inside.
 
Saer stood
at the grate, watching in fear and anticipation as Mathias attempted to unlock
the grate.
 
He kept turning his attention
to the stairwell and the smoky darkness below. He’d never felt such anguish.

“Cathlina?” he called again. “Rosalund? Can
anyone hear me? Roxane?”

It was pathetic, really. The poor man was
trying to rouse his family when they more than likely would not be roused.
 
He kept calling to them and the more he
called, the more the silence was truly painful.
 
Mathias could feel it even though he was struggling with all of his
might to ignore it.
 
If he succumbed to
the bone-numbing grief that the silence provoked, then all would be lost.
 
And he could not, would not, give up. Not
when Cathlina’s life hung in the balance.
 
He would never, ever give up.

Please
God
, he silently prayed.
Please
do not let anything happen to her.
 
You
have ignored me a great deal over the past two years but I beg that you not
ignore me now. Give me the skill and strength to save the one person in my life
who has given me joy and love above all else. Do not give her to me only to
cruelly take her away.

Tears filled his eyes as he prayed,
clouding his vision as he struggled to manipulate the old tumblers.
 
He tried blinking them away but they just
kept coming. Soon, they were spilling from his eyes and he paused to angrily
wipe them away. He didn’t have time for tears.
 
Cathlina was waiting for him.

But it was an agonizing wait.
 
The minutes ticked by and he continued to
twist the rods in an attempt to roll the tumblers.
 
The roof overhead was still burning and
twice, big hunks of debris had fallen dangerously close to him.
 
Sebastian was watching him over his shoulder
and a dozen English soldiers were standing around, watching and waiting while
their commander tried to pick a lock.
 
Saer could hardly take the strain and had taken to pacing in a circle,
his head in his hands.
 
Just as the
stress grew too great to bear, the old tumblers finally gave way and the lock
sprung.

Sebastian heard the click and saw the bolt
lift.
 
He reached out and yanked on the
hot iron, pulling it back and nearly mowing his brother down in the
process.
 
But Mathias was quick on his
feet, diving down the dark and cluttered stairwell, avoiding the debris as best
he could with an army of men following him.
 
When he came to the second grate at the bottom, he pushed his face
against the slats to try and gain a better look at the room beyond.

“Cathlina!” he roared.

His voice echoed off the walls and he heard
coughing.
  
It was thick with smoke and
bad air, and several pieces of burning debris had managed to fall in between
the iron bars, now burning on the dirt floor of the vault.
 
Mathias called her name twice more before a
man suddenly appeared on his knees. Mathias, Saer, and Sebastian dropped to
their knees also, moving to speak to the man but Saer reached out and grabbed
him by the neck.

“My family!” he cried.
 
“What has happened to them?”

Before the man could answer, Mathias
snatched the man’s arm. “The Lady Cathlina,” he said calmly although his voice
was shaking. “Do you know who she is?”

The man coughed and gasped. “Aye, my lord.”

“She has a key!” Saer was frantic. “Get the
key!”

The man nodded, hacking and gasping as he
crawled back into the smoky darkness.
  
They could hear him over at the far end of the vault, an area they could
not see from their angle, and they heard a woman’s voice lifted in fear.

“Nay!” the woman yelled, her voice guttural
and hoarse. “You will not let them in! They mean to kill us!”

“Nay, my lady,” the servant was saying. “It
is your husband. He has come to rescue us.”

The woman was evidently still reluctant.
“It is a trick,” she snarled.
 
“It is a
trap. They mean to kill us all! I will not let them have us, do you hear? They
will not take us alive!”

Mathias and Saer looked at each other with
great apprehension.
 
Saer threw himself
against the bars and called out.

“Rosalund?” he cried. “It is me! Cathlina
has the key! Open the door!”

The woman didn’t answer but they could hear
her grumbling.
 
Then the sounds of a
struggle ensued and the manservant cried out.

“Nay, my lady!” he said. “They have come to
rescue us! The knife… put it away, I say! Put it away!”

“Rosalund!” Saer cried again. “Get the key!
Let us in!”

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 man
servant 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.