CHAPTER ELEVEN
“De Reyne,” Saer hissed. “Of course I know the name. I know the man’s reputation. He was Mortimer’s devil. Everyone knows who he is.”
Tate stood across from his cousin, trying to stay neutral about the situation. He had heard Mathias’ side of it, and a sobbing Cathlina’s, and the stories were much the same. But Saer’s story was something concocted by an overprotective and zealous father, how he happened across his daughter in the company of two ruffians in the midst of a street fight. Tate was trying to balance the entire situation out and keep Mathias from Saer’s wrath.
“Did you also know he is one of my closest friends?” Tate asked softly. When he saw the look of surprise on Saer’s face, he nodded. “We fostered together. There is no finer knight in all of England that Mathias de Reyne.”
Saer threw up his hands. “How can you say that?” he demanded. “The man sided with Mortimer and tried to kill us all! He is everything we fought against, everything we hated, and I cannot believe that you would defend him so.”
“He sided with Mortimer because he is related to the man,” Tate fired back, struggling with his temper. “He had no choice. We all side with our family, do we not? His only true crime was that he was related to a man who tried to usurp the king. That has no bearing on how good and true a knight he is.”
Saer didn’t want to listen. He turned away, wandering aimlessly through Tate’s crimson tent. Cathlina sat near the door on a small stool, her eyes huge at her father. She knew she was in for a row but she was also quite defiant about it.
“Father, he is the man who saved us from the man who tried to abduct Abbie,” she said with surprising strength. “He is kind and decent and considerate, and I will not hear you say anything terrible about him. He does not deserve it.”
Saer looked at her as if she were mad. “Not deserve…?” he sputtered. “You have no idea what you are saying. The man is wicked!”
Cathlina shot to her feet. “He is not wicked,” she said, her voice growing louder. “What you saw earlier in the street was my fault. That terrible knight was saying such awful things about Mathias and I’d had enough of his slander. Mathias defended Abbie so I returned the favor. I would not let someone speak so terribly about you, or Mother, or anyone else that I cared for. Mathias was trying to walk away from the confrontation but I did not. I struck that horrible knight and I do not regret it.”
By this time, Saer had ceased his agitated movements and was peering at her strangely. “Care for him?” he repeated. “What does this mean?”
Cathlina wouldn’t back down. “Just that,” she said. “I care for him, Father. He is sweet and wonderful and virtuous. He has asked to court me and I have agreed.”
Something happened to Saer at that moment. His color changed from a sweaty red to a yellow ashen.
“Court you?” he repeated, shocked. “I… I cannot believe my ears. If he wanted to court you, then he should have come to me first. Moreover, I will not let the man who headed Mortimer’s war machine court my daughter. It is unthinkable.”
Cathlina regarded her father carefully. She was quite capable of manipulating him but she could see that he was starting to take a very firm stand against Mathias that would not tumble like the walls of Jericho. Once Saer was set on something, it was very difficult to change his mind. She had to strike hard and fast if she was going to win this battle. Aye, it was indeed a battle.
“Father,” she said after a moment. “You will listen to me and listen well. I love Mathias. There, now I’ve said it – I love him. It is my intention to be his wife. You only have one choice in this matter, you can give us your blessing. If you do not, I will take the first opportunity to run away and commit myself to the cloister. Is this perfectly clear?”
Saer stared at her. In the next moment, he was charging across the tent and grabbing her by the arm, yanking her from de Lara’s tent. Cathlina struggled against her father, pounding on his hand to force him to release her, but it was of little consequence. Saer had her firm. Tate went after them, mostly to make sure Saer didn’t inadvertently hurt his daughter, but by the time he quit the tent, he had to prevent Mathias from charging Saer.
Mathias had been lingering several feet away from the tent with Sebastian and Kenneth, waiting to be dealt his scolding by Saer and, more than likely, Tate as well when he saw Saer dragging Cathlina from the tent. She was struggling and fighting, and he snapped. Only Tate and Kenneth’s strength prevented him from charging Saer and breaking the man’s neck. Cathlina saw Mathias and began to scream.
“Mathias!” she cried.
Mathias lurched in her direction but Tate and Kenneth held him firm. “Nay, Mat,” Tate hissed. “Let them go. I will go and speak to them later on your behalf but for now, let them go. You have no choice.”
Mathias was as coiled as a spring. He watched Saer drag Cathlina across the meadowed expanse that separated Tate’s encampment from his. She was fighting and kicking all the way. He dragged her into a tent made of canvas and rope, and shortly they heard sharp smacking sounds and Cathlina screaming.
After that, there was no way to corral Mathias because Tate started running in the direction of Saer’s encampment and Mathias was on his heels. Kenneth and Sebastian barreled after the pair, everyone crowding into Saer’s larger tent where Saer was giving his daughter a very sound beating on the bottom. Tate grabbed the switch in Saer’s hand and Mathias grabbed Cathlina.
“Enough,” Tate snarled at his cousin, tossing the switch aside. “Are you truly so weak and foolish that you would beat your daughter? What on earth is wrong with you?”
Saer was shocked to see a host of knights in his tent, interfering in his fatherly duty, but more than that, he was furious. He looked at Mathias with Cathlina cradled against him, sobbing.
“You may not have her,” he hissed. “You, who controlled Mortimer’s forces and orchestrated the deaths of thousands of men. I lost friends to you!”
Mathias had Cathlina held against his chest, his embrace soothing and protective. “As I lost friends to you,” he said quietly. “Such is the nature of war, de Lara. You can point fingers at me as much as you wish but you are equally guilty.”
Saer stood there, looking at the man he had fought so zealously against. He felt sick watching the man with his arms around Cathlina. In truth, he was overwhelmed with all of it. He hadn’t suspected anything between the smithy and his daughter although perhaps he should have considering she had left Kirklinton without an escort to go and see the man. She had told him that her visit was purely to thank the man for helping fend off Abechail’s attacker but in hindsight, he should have been wiser. Saer just didn’t want to imagine that his Cathlina, his pride and joy, had designs on a man. Now to find out that the man had once been a hated enemy was nearly too much to take.
“Mayhap,” he said softly, calming somewhat as his fury cooled and the reality of the situation began to settle. “But look at you now, a smithy? A once great knight reduced to shoeing horses and shoveling dung? And you expect to make a life for my daughter living as peasants?”
Cathlina looked up at Mathias, total trust and admiration in her expression. Mathias glanced at her, feeling her confidence fortify him. But before he could respond, Tate spoke.
“Mathias’ exile will not last forever,” he said quietly. “I will speak with the king to that regard. Mayhap it is indeed time to forgive and forget those events which tore this country asunder.”
Saer looked at him. “But what if young Edward will not forgive?” he said, shaking his head. “Tate, if we were speaking of your daughter, would you allow her to marry a dishonored knight, knowing what kind of life that would mean for them? As a father, I want the best for my daughters and even if de Reyne was not a dishonored knight, I would have extreme reservations about allowing my daughter to wed him.”
“Why?” Tate asked softly.
Saer began to grow agitated again. “Because the man fought with the enemy and very nearly cost us our lives,” he said. “Would you let your daughter marry him?”
Tate nodded before the question fully left Saer’s mouth. “Knowing the character of the man as I do, I would be proud for my daughter to marry him.”
Saer grunted and turned away, eyeing Mathias, his daughter and even Kenneth and Sebastian. He had a tent full of knights, seasoned men who had shaped the course of the country, but he was torn and despondent. He couldn’t decide if it was truly because of Mathias and all he had once stood for or if it was because he didn’t want to lose Cathlina. His little girl had become a woman and he’d hardly noticed.
“Then you must allow me to think on this,” he muttered, looking at Mathias. “All I have heard is from my daughter stating that she wishes to marry you. You have not come to me, as a man would, and spoken to me of her.”
Mathias conceded the point. “You are correct,” he said. “However, in my defense, there has not been the opportunity and your daughter and I have only recently spoken of such things. It was not the proper way to go about the situation and I offer my apology. However, now that we are face to face, I will tell you now that it is my intention to marry your daughter. At present, I will be able to provide quite well for her as a smithy’s wife and in time, she will have all of the titles and wealth that I can provide for her when my titles and lands are restored. Of this I have no doubt. I assure you that my intentions are quite honorable.”
Saer watched the man as he spoke, his body language and the fact that he never once broke eye contact. That spoke of respect. It eased him somewhat but not completely. He was still having a difficult time swallowing everything. It was too much for him to absorb at the moment and he finally waved a dismissive hand at the group.
“I must think on it,” he said. “I will give you no answer today.”
“But soon, Father?” Cathlina said, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes.
Saer whirled on her, pointing a stern finger. “That is enough from you.”
Cathlina frowned as Mathias stepped in. “I understand and respect your need to think on my request,” he said, giving Cathlina a squeeze so she would remain silent. “I also trust that you will make the right choice. I will eagerly await your word.”
Saer only shrugged. Tate caught Sebastian and Kenneth’s attention, silently ordering them from the tent with a nod of his head. When they left, he turned his attention to Saer one last time.
“I trust I will not need to come running back here to prevent you from beating your daughter,” he said. “If it happens again, I will take her with me back to Carlisle. I will not let you harm her because you are angry. Is that clear?”
Saer looked at Tate as if the man had hurt his feelings. “I was not beating her,” he said. “I was spanking her for her insolence. She needed it.”
Tate cocked an eyebrow. “A technicality,” he said, his voice low. “I do not approve of hitting children, no matter how insolent they are.”
Saer, feeling emotionally exhausted and defeated, simply turned away. Tate’s attention lingered on the man before turning to Mathias and Cathlina.
The pair was huddled together, the hulking presence of Mathias wrapped around Cathlina. She looked so small and fragile in his arms. Tate touched her affectionately on the cheek before turning to Mathias.
“You have a tournament to finish,” he said softly. “I would suggest you go and prepare for the second round.”
It occurred to Mathias that he’d not spoken to the man since Sebastian had mentioned Tate’s knowledge of his deception. He tried not to look too contrite. “Was I that obvious? I thought I did rather well at concealing my identity.”
“You did a fine job,” Tate agreed. “But you forget how well I know you. Your move of hitting me on the helmet in the first pass confirmed what I already suspected. Go, now. I will make sure Cathlina is taken care of.”
Mathias looked down at Cathlina, swathed in his enormous embrace. He quite honestly didn’t want to let her go but knew he had little choice. Leaning down, he kissed her very sweetly on the cheek before releasing her. Then he looked at Tate.
“If he touches her again, I will kill him,” he said simply.
Tate knew he meant it. He’d seen what Mathias could do in battle and had no desire to push the man. So he nodded.
“He understands that,” he said quietly. “Give me my cousin and be on your way.”
“You will take her to the lists where I can see her?”
“I will.”
Mathias’ gaze lingered on Cathlina a moment before kissing her hand gently and quitting the tent. Cathlina watched him leave, her entire being focused around him and the memory of him. She couldn’t focus on anything else. When she finally shook herself from her trance, she caught sight of the grin on Tate’s face. She smiled, embarrassed, silently acknowledging all of the sweet and giddy things she’d been thinking. He laughed softly.
“If you are ready, my lady, I will take you over to the field,” he said.
“Nay,” Saer said from across the tent. “I want to speak with her first.”
Tate’s smile faded as he looked to his cousin. “Go ahead,” he said. “I shall wait right outside the tent.”
Saer turned to look at him with as much defeat in his expression as Tate had ever seen. The Axe he’d known all those years looked old and tired. Children growing up and resisting parental directives had a way of doing that to people.
“No need,” he said wearily. “I just want to speak with her a few moments. I will bring her over to the field myself”
Tate cocked an eyebrow. “You will not beat her.”
Saer shook his head, resigned. “I will not beat her.”
“Swear it?”
“I swear”
“Then I will see you over at the field.”
Mathias won the joust later that day without his favored lady in the lists. Once he realized what had happened, he went to Tate with a plan and begged the man to help him. The whole story about Henry de Beaumont and fighting for the Scots came in to play, and Tate was more than willing to listen. Had he not loved his wife so much, it would have been difficult for him to understand Mathias’ willingness to sacrifice everything for the chance at a new life with the woman he loved. As it was, he understood completely.
Tate was not hard to convince, and an appropriate scheme was hatched.