The Fallen One (4 page)

“I do.”

“He is a mere knight, Roxy,” Cathlina said,
somewhat gently, although she was thankful that Roxane was off Mathias’ scent.
“He is not a lord. But I am sure there are many other men of standing that
Cousin Tate can align us with.”

“I hope so,” Roxane said wistfully. “I am
growing rather weary of kissing knights.”

Cathlina lifted an eyebrow at her. “You
should not be kissing them at all.”

Roxane shrugged with a half-hearted attempt
at defiance. “I do not kiss Dunstan anymore,” she said, “merely Beauson.
 
I do believe Dunstan has a fondness for you
so he is unresponsive to my charms as of late.”

Cathlina finished with the bridle. “Dunstan
is a nice enough man, big and strong, but he is not what I would call a smart
man,” she said.
 
“Besides, he is too old.
I am not interested in him as a romantic prospect. He will have to seek
affection elsewhere.”

With that, Cathlina finished the last strap
on the bridle and moved to secure the basket on the back of the saddle.
 
Roxane assisted her and between the two of
them, they managed to tie it down securely.
 

“Mayhap you should ask Dunstan or Beauson
to escort you to town,” Roxane said. “It is a long ride to Brampton and there
are dangers about. You know you should not go alone.”

Cathlina shook her head as she gathered her
mare’s reins and turned to lead the horse from the stable. “I do not need an
escort,” she said. “The ride to town will take an hour or two at the most. It
is a fine day for travel and I shall return in good time.”

Roxane didn’t argue with her, mostly
because she knew it wouldn’t do any good.
 
Cathlina was stubborn and determined and Roxane was never strong enough
to take a stand against her. She didn’t think the ride into town was a good
idea but she had already voiced her objections. Now there was nothing to do but
wait until her sister returned.

The wind was picking up as they moved into
the stable yard.
 
Bits of chaff blew
about as Cathlina mounted her mare and adjusted her cloak, gathering the reins.
 
Once she was settled, she turned to her
sister.

“I should be back before the evening meal,”
she said. “If Mother or Father are looking for me, tell them that you have not
seen me. Swear it?”

“I swear it.”

“Good.”

“Can I have your clothing if you do not
return?”

Cathlina made a face at her sister to let
her know exactly what she thought of that question.
 
Kicking her mare in the ribs, she trotted out
of the bailey quite simply, losing herself in the peasants and farmers milling
in and out of the open gates.
 
Being the
only castle within a several mile radius, many of the locals came here to do
business with each other.
 
It was easy to
get lost in the masses of the small and crowded bailey.

Soon enough, Cathlina was on the road south
towards Brampton.

CHAPTER THREE

“I am going to marry her,” Sebastian said
firmly. “Did you see the way she looked at me? She
wants
me.”

Mathias was in the midst of shoeing a
massive charger with a nasty temper.
 
He
was trying to concentrate as his brother, propped on the edge of a table,
chewed loudly of his nooning meal, a large bird leg.
 
Food flew about as Sebastian chomped and
spoke.

“Could you see how attracted she was to
me?” he asked enthusiastically. “Mark my words; I have found my future wife.”

Mathias avoided a thrown horse-head. “You
never came even remotely close to her,” he said. “How can you know anything
about her?”

Sebastian tore at the bird. “It was the
way
she looked at me.”

“Is that so?”

“It ‘tis. It was the look of love.”

“How would you know? You have never seen
such a look.”

Sebastian snorted, pieces of food falling
from his lips.
 
“I have indeed, my fine
lad,” he informed him. “Every time I step foot in The Buck’s Head down the
street, those women give me the look. They want me.”

He was deeply self-assured and Mathias
couldn’t resist taking a swipe at his arrogance. “They will give anyone the
look that they think will pay for the privilege,” he said.

 
Sebastian
shrugged, unwilling to admit that only whores were throwing him expressions of
passion.
 
“Sometimes I do not have to pay
them.”

Mathias fought off a grin at his brother’s
damaged ego.
 
Letting go of the horse’s
hoof, he went back over to the fire and pumped it hard as the flames sparked
and roared.

“I would guess that Lady Cathlina does not
even know you are alive,” he said as he removed the red-hot shoe. “Besides, she
is a de Lara. I told you that.”

Sebastian was back to snorting as his brother
transferred the shoe to an anvil and began to hammer. “What would the great
Earl of Carlisle say if one of his lovely relatives ended up married to me?” he
wondered. “It would make us family.”

Mathias put the shoe into a barrel of
rainwater, watching the steam hiss up into the air. “I am sure that would not
excite him half as much as it would excite you,” he said, eyeing his brother.
“De Lara would not want us in the family.”

“Why not?” Sebastian demanded. “You served
with him and St. Hèver
 
and Pembury. You
were all as thick as thieves.”

“I was Tate’s squire when he was a young
knight,” Mathias muttered. “I am not sure that makes us blood brothers.”

“He loved you and you know it,” Sebastian
pointed out. “Besides, there is only a few years difference between you two.”

“Seven years.”

“He still knighted you at nineteen,”
Sebastian pointed out. “Two full years before most knights receive their
spurs.”

“That is because there was a war going on.
He needed my sword.”

“And I would wager he has missed it long
enough this year past,” Sebastian said. Then, he looked thoughtful.
 
“In fact, I do believe you even saved his
life once. He owes you everything.”

“Sparing his life and saving it are two
different things,” Mathias said quietly. He didn’t want to talk about that
particular incident; in fact, he didn’t want to discuss that part of his life
at all.
 
Politics had separated him from
his friends. A king had stripped him of all that he was.
 
Nay, he didn’t want to talk about it in the
least and Sebastian knew it, but Sebastian had jelly for brains sometimes.
 

But Sebastian didn’t have so much jelly for
brains that he didn’t know he had broached a sore subject with his
brother.
 
Mathias kept himself so bottled
up, however, that sometimes Sebastian wondered if the man cared about anything
at all.
 
But he knew, deep down, that he
cared a great deal.

“He would be honored to have a de Reyne in
the family,” he said confidently. “De Lara views you as an equal, Mat. You know
he does.
 
Ken and Stephen view you as a
brother.
 
Mayhap it is time to speak of
such things again.
 
Mayhap… mayhap it is
even time to contact them again.”

Mathias kept his mouth shut as he removed
the shoe from the water and moved to the horse.
 
Bending over, he pulled the horse’s hoof between his legs and fitted the
shoe.
 
The horse tried to move around a
bit and tried to kick at him but Sebastian set his food down and went to help
his brother.
 
He held the horse firm as
Mathias hammered on the shoe.
 

Dropping the hoof to the ground, he wiped
the sweat off his brow and moved back to the fire where the remaining shoe was
being heated.

“Mat?” Sebastian said quietly. “Did you
hear me?”

“I heard you.”

“What say you?

Mathias pulled the shoe out of the fire,
his face red from the heat and exertion of wrestling with the horse. “What
would you have me say?”

“Tell me your thoughts,” Sebastian pushed.
He could see that he wasn’t getting anywhere with his brother so he ventured
onward in an attempt to prompt him. “I heard something the other day that might
be of interest.”

Mathias was only half-listening to him.
“What is that?”

    
Sebastian reclaimed
his food and chewed on the last of the meat. “Henry de Beaumont is trying to
put Edward Balliol on the throne of Scotland instead of the infant David,” he
said. “I heard some men speaking of it the other day.
 
De Beaumont will need knights, Mat. Mayhap
this will be an opportunity for us.”

    
Mathias looked at his
brother. “De Beaumont is allied with our king,” he said frankly. “If we take up
arms for de Beaumont, do you not think that Edward will catch wind of that?
Nay, brother, I will not lose my head for a Scots rebellion.”

    
Sebastian knew that
would be his brother’s response but he wasn’t pleased with it.
 
He tossed aside the stripped bird bone and
stood up, his manner growing agitated as it so often did.

    
“I do not want to be a
smithy the rest of my life,” he hissed. “Mayhap you find comfort in swinging a
hammer instead of a sword, but I do not. I will be a knight again someday, I
swear it, and if it without your support, then so be it.”

    
Mathias wiped the
sweat off his brow. “Patience was never one of your virtues.”

    
“What is that supposed
to mean?”

    
“It means that times
change. Tides and the flow of power change. You must be patient, little
brother. We will not be like this forever, but for now, it is what we must do
to survive.”

Sebastian wasn’t satisfied with that. He
was about to fire off a volley of insults at his brother’s lack of courage when
a soft voice interrupted him.

    
“Excuse me?”

    
It was a gentle female
voice.
 
Startled, Mathias and Sebastian
turned to see Cathlina standing at the entrance to their stall; lit from behind
by the nooning sun, her silhouette gave off an ethereal glow as she stood at
the threshold.
 
Wrapped in a yellow linen
cloak, her dark hair was braided and draped over her right shoulder and her
dark eyes glimmered as she fixed on Mathias.

    
“I am so sorry to
interrupt,” she said politely. “Do you remember me? You saved my sister and me
yesterday from a brute, right out there on the avenue. I do hope you….”

    
Mathias cut her off,
gently done. “Of course I remember you,” he said, realizing in a rush that he
was both surprised and glad to see her again. “Are you and your sister well?”

    
Cathlina smiled warmly
at him, thrilled that he remembered her. “We are very well, thanks to you,” she
said.
 
Then her gaze passed between
Mathias and his brother. “I did not mean to intrude. I will only beg a moment
of your time and then I promise I shall be gone.”

    
Sebastian was the
first one to move towards her, his enormous red-headed presence overwhelming.
“Lady Cathlina,” he said, a smile on his lips. “’Tis a welcome interruption,
you are.”

    
Cathlina looked at the
big, ruddy-faced brother and couldn’t help but be a bit put-off by him. He was
smelling and sweaty and large. She instinctively took a step back as he came
close.

    
“Thank you,” she said,
eyeing him. “How do you know my name?”

    
Sebastian pointed to
Mathias. “My brother told me,” he said. “I am glad to hear that you and your
sister are faring well after yesterday’s fracas.”

    
Cathlina nodded. “Well
indeed,” she replied.
 
“Thank you again
for coming to our aid. In fact, that is why I have come. I have brought you
something in the hopes of emphasizing our gratitude.”

    
She lifted the basket
in her hands and both men looked at it as if only just noticing it.
 
Both of them had been looking at her face, mesmerized
by the unexpected appearance of such beauty.
 
Sebastian looked at the basket with interest
but Mathias was on the move; he didn’t want his brother frightening her, or
worse.
 
The man could offend easily.

    
“Your thanks yesterday
was quite enough,” he said, his deep voice soft. “You did not need to bring us
anything.”

    
“I realize that, but I
wanted to,” she said, once again completely focused on Mathias as if Sebastian
did not exist at all. She couldn’t seem to do much more than stare at him. “You
would not take a reward and you would not sup with us, so I took it upon myself
to bring you a few tokens of my appreciation. I hope you will accept them.”

    
Mathias was genuinely
touched. More than that, he was coming to realize that every time he saw the
woman, she seemed to grow increasingly beautiful.
 
He was still turned off against her being a
de Lara but truth be told, every second that he gazed at her saw that resistance
taking a beating.
 
Looking at her hopeful
face, he knew he could not refuse her.

    
“Of course we will
accept whatever you have brought,” he said, his eyes glimmering at her. “You
did not have to go to the trouble.”

    
She smiled brightly
and he was enchanted. “It was no trouble at all,” she said, moving to the
nearest table surface, which happened to be littered with a mixture of tools
and scraps of food.
 
Setting the basket
down, she peeled back the embroidered cloth. “I brought you pear and cinnamon
compote, and different types of bread, cherries soaked in honey, and – oh! –
pickled onions. Have you ever had them? They are quite delicious.
 
The cook pickles them with vinegar and herbs.”

    
Sebastian was
extremely interested in the contents of the basket, pulling things out to smell
them, while Mathias tried to control his boorish brother by putting things back
where they belonged.

    
“I have had them,
aye,” he replied, smacking Sebastian’s hand when the man tried to stick his
fingers in the cherries. “This is most kind and generous of you, my lady.
 
This is truly an unexpected treat.”

    
Cathlina beamed
happily, thrilled by Mathias’ response but rather peeved at his brother’s
uncouth manners. She had the little cakes she had made all tucked down in the
corner of the basket and she pulled them out before Sebastian could stick his
fingers in them, handing them over to Mathias.

    
“Here,” she said. “I
made these just for you. I do hope you like them.”

    
Sebastian was busy
with the bread and wasn’t paying much attention to the cakes Cathlina had presented
to Mathias. But Mathias was acutely aware that she seemed to be speaking only
to him; his eyes were on her as he unwrapped the cakes, hit in the nose by the
clove and nutmeg smell.
 
The gesture of
bringing him gifts coupled with the delight of her lovely face had his careful
control slipping.
 

    
“They smell
wonderful,” he said quietly. “It was very kind of you to do this.”

    
She picked one out of
the bundle and held it up to him. “Would you try one?”

    
He did. It was a
marvelous bit of culinary achievement.
 
“Did you make these yourself?” he asked.