CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Tate de Lara wasn’t simply astonished to see Mathias and Cathlina ride into the outer bailey of Carlisle Castle; he was bloody well shocked. He had been in the gatehouse, a squat, intimidating red-stoned building, when a solitary rider had been sighted coming in from the northeast. Tate had paid very little attention until he happened to see the rider at close range and realized there were two people astride the charger. Moreover, he recognized the charger. Mathias and Cathlina were returning.
He had sent a soldier running for St. Héver, who was in the great hall, before making his way to the gatehouse entry about the time Mathias and Cathlina were entering. He moved quickly to the horse, looking up at the exhausted pair with great concern.
“What has happened?” he demanded. “Why are you here?”
Cathlina looked as if she had been weeping and Mathias, drawn and pale, handed her down into Tate’s waiting arms. As Tate gently took Cathlina, Mathias dismounted behind her and handed his charger off to one of the many soldiers crowding around them. He followed Tate and Cathlina across the expansive bailey towards the enormous keep.
“Mathias, tell me,” Tate asked again, his arm around Cathlina’s shoulders. “What happened? Why have you returned?”
Mathias unlatched his helm and removed it, revealing damp dark hair beneath. “It is not safe for her in Scotland,” he said simply. “I found Pembury and we subsequently located de Beaumont, but the wars he is fighting are more than we imagined. He is planning a full-scale invasion and he wants me to help lead it. He has nearly eighty ships prepared to set sail from Yorkshire ports to help him gain the throne for Edward Balliol, who is now in residence with de Beaumont.”
Tate looked at him with surprise. “Balliol is with him? The last I heard, he was in France.”
Mathias sighed wearily. “He is here now,” he said. “He is very confident that he can wrest the throne from the infant David. He thinks the regent, the Earl of Moray, is one to be easily defeated. I am not convinced, however. I think the infant has more support than we realize.”
Tate was seriously listening to him and not paying attention to Cathlina at all. “Why would you say that?”
They were drawing near to the keep now and Mathias could see Toby emerge, shielding her eyes against the morning sun to see who was approaching. As Cathlina scurried forward ahead of the men, Mathias and Tate came to a halt and faced one another.
“Because de Beaumont is convinced that he will have superior numbers to reinforce him from England,” he said quietly. “The man is experienced and intelligent, but he does not seem to realize that he is in Scotland siding with Scots that are just as passionate about Balliol as Moray is about the infant. Moreover, Moray commands thousands and even now, de Beaumont cannot have more than eight hundred men. I have seen the thin numbers for myself.”
Tate listened to him carefully. When Mathias was finished, he sighed heavily as he pondered the information. “Is this true? I can hardly believe it.”
“It is true.”
Tate simply shook his head in disbelief. “I wonder if King Edward knows this.”
“If he does not, he should,” Mathias said. “But it will take weeks for the news to reach him. We cannot wait for direction. What is happening in Scotland is happening now, which is why I brought Cathlina home. Although I had hoped to start a new life with her in Scotland, it is too dangerous for my liking. I will have to bring her home and pray her father forgives us for marrying without his blessing.”
Tate tried to sound confident. “He will,” he said. “The man is not unreasonable, and he will appreciate that you thought of his daughter’s safety by bringing her back to England. Moreover, if the danger is as bad as you say it is, you would be ineffective because you would be worrying about her constantly.”
Mathias lifted his eyebrows in an ironic gesture. “Cathlina does not see it that way,” he said. “She thinks that I am abandoning her and that I no longer have use for her now that I am once again a knight.”
Tate was pensive. “Women do not often times see what it is that makes us do what we do,” he said. “It took Toby years to accept that I am a fighting man and that war is in my blood. It does not diminish my love for her.”
“I wish Cathlina saw it that way.”
Tate clapped him on the shoulder and turned him for the keep. “Leave her here with us,” he said. “Toby will explain what it is to be a warrior’s wife. Mayhap she would take it better from another woman.”
Mathias nodded. “I will admit that women are mysterious creatures,” he muttered. “Sometimes it is so simple to speak with her, then other times….”
Tate grinned as they prepared to mount the steps to the massive keep. Toby and Cathlina stood at the top of the steps, Cathlina in Toby’s embrace. Tate and Mathias gazed up at the pair with expressions of fear, awe, and respect.
“I understand you completely,” Tate murmured. “They are indeed mysterious creatures. Come into the keep and let us discuss this over a pitcher of ale.”
Mathias balked. “I cannot,” he said. “I must return to Scotland immediately. I have only come to deliver my wife for safekeeping.”
“And so you have,” Tate replied. A flash of armor caught his attention and he turned to see St. Héver heading in their direction from the stable block. He gestured at Kenneth. “It sounds as if you could use reinforcements. Mayhap I should send Ken with you.”
“I would take him gladly.”
Kenneth jogged up to them, his concerned attention on Mathias. “What are you doing here?” he asked the same question Tate had. “What has happened?”
“Rumblings in Scotland,” Tate answered for him. “Mat has brought his wife back here for safekeeping, but it sounds as if the entire country is about to tear itself apart.”
Kenneth wasn’t surprised. “De Beaumont is a skilled military man and a deft politician,” he said. “He is also a troublemaker. What seems to be the issue?”
“Eighty-eight ships preparing to sail from ports in Yorkshire to deliver English support for Edward Balliol, who has arrived from France and is now prepared to assume his role as king with de Beaumont’s support,” Mathias said. “The situation is more critical than we suspected.”
“Did you find Pembury?”
“I did. He is in the middle of it with me, as de Beaumont has asked me to aid him in leading the charge.”
Kenneth’s gaze lingered on Mathias for a moment before turning to Tate. “I am bored to tears here in your happy little earldom,” he said. “Short of going out and stirring up trouble just so I will have something to do, I would ask permission to return to Scotland with Mat and aid him in doing battle with the Scots.”
Tate looked at the two of them, seasoned knights he had fought with innumerable times and, in Mathias’ case, fought against him in heartbreaking moments. It had been a very long time since he had swung a sword with Mathias flanking him. Moreover, if what Mathias said was true and a massive battle for the Scots throne was imminent, then perhaps it would be prudent if he was a part of it, too. Edward Balliol on the throne would be allied with young King Edward and Tate, as always, fought for young Edward’s interest. Aye, perhaps it was time he be a part of it.
“I am bored as well,” he said after the moment. “But as you have asked permission from me, I must ask permission from my wife. Let me think about how to accomplish that without sending my wife through the ceiling in a fit of rage.”
Mathias gave him an expression that suggested fear and hope. “May I attend you and study your technique? It would seem I am in need of a lesson on how to handle a wife.”
Kenneth caught on to the intimation. “Are you saying that you cannot handle that tiny woman you married? Mat, I am shocked.”
“Don’t be. I am willing to admit I am a novice where marriage is concerned.”
“Let me guess. She does not want you to go to war and leave her here.”
“How did you know?”
“Because I have seen it too many times. You are not alone, my friend.”
Tate began to head towards the keep. “Come along,” he said to the two of them. “Come and witness my superiority when handling my wife.”
“I would wager on Toby’s superiority first,” Kenneth said.
As Tate and Kenneth chuckled, Mathias grinned unhappily. He felt no humor. All he could feel was the abject sorrow with the situation between him and Cathlina, terrified that he would leave to return to Scotland and things would never be the same between them. He had been questioning his decision to return for a few days now because so many things she said to him made sense. But there were things that didn’t.
In any case, he had to leave before the day was out and he fully intended to hash things out with her before he left. There were things he had to say to her that she needed to hear, and he could only pray they would make a difference. He didn’t want to see such a beautiful relationship wrecked because of bad decisions or misunderstandings.
Once he left for Scotland, he could only hope that he had a marriage to return to.
*
Although it was reluctantly, Toby indeed gave permission for her husband to take one thousand men into Scotland to aid Henry de Beaumont and Edward Balliol’s cause. Because Tate was so close to the Scots border, he usually kept around two thousand men at any given time at Carlisle Castle, and another thousand at Harbottle Castle, another outpost about a day’s ride to the east. Saer de Lara had eight hundred men at Kirklinton, men sworn to Carlisle, but Tate refrained from calling upon them. He didn’t want to spread his resources too thin.
Because he had so many men to muster, it was late afternoon by the time he organized all of his men and had the quartermasters bring forth the wagons. Given that he didn’t want to start a battle march at sunset, he made the decision to stay the night and start for Scotland before dawn. Mathias had made a push for leaving that day but when he saw that wasn’t going to happen, he was secretly glad. It would mean one more night with Cathlina. Perhaps he could make her see his side of things.
Cathlina had spent the entire day with Toby as Tate, Kenneth, and Mathias went about organizing the troops. Even though Mathias was deeply involved in mustering the army, his thoughts kept drifting to Cathlina. Like the waves of the sea, crashing onto him again and again, thoughts of his wife tumbled down on him until he could think of little else. Already, he missed her, and he knew it was only going to get worse.
The sun was setting as they wrapped up the last tasks with the assembled army and told the men to eat and get to sleep early because they were departing before sunrise. Mathias, in the midst of mustering the army, brought up the subject of the Treaty of Northampton, part of the treaties established with Robert the Bruce before his death that, among other things, prevented the English armies from crossing north of the River Tweed.
Tate was aware of this, as was King Edward and every other fighting man in England, but Tate was clever – he broke up his army into several divisions, each one commanded by a knight or another senior soldier, with orders to cross the river in smaller separate units that could not constitute the definition of an army, and then join up into a collective group once they reached the outskirts of Edinburgh. It was a technicality but really all they could do if they didn’t want to lose precious time.
With the army assembled and the logistics of their campaign north ironed out, the trio of knights headed up to the keep and entered the enormous structure with the great hall on the first level. When they entered, it was already warm and fragrant with the scents of rushes and roasting meat. As Tate headed for the feasting table, his children caught sight of him and rushed him.
Tate laughed with delight as his aggressive twins tried to take him down by the legs. Roman, his eldest, challenged his father with a wooden sword and Tate raised his arms in surrender. Meanwhile, Tate’s oldest daughter, five-year-old Cate, went to Kenneth because her father was being mobbed and she liked Kenneth, anyway. She didn’t know the tall, dark knight with him but eyed Mathias curiously as she took Kenneth’s hand.
“Hello,” she said.
Mathias smiled faintly at the beautiful little girl. “Good eve to you, my lady.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Mathias.”
Cate inspected him a moment longer before deciding he was worthy of her attention. She took his hand, too, and led both Mathias and Kenneth to the feasting table. “Sit,” she said.
They did. Cate planted herself between them, feeling quite special to have two big knights on either side of her. Servants began appearing, placing plates of freshly baked bread on the table, and Cate was happy when Kenneth broke apart a loaf and presented her with the warm, soft, white middle. As she chewed happily, Toby entered the hall from the stairwell with her youngest daughter on her hip.
“Good men,” she greeted, watching her husband as he manhandled the wild twins into their seats. “How goes the troop movements in the bailey?”
Mathias and Kenneth had their wine in hand and were already drinking deeply as Tate replied.
“We are prepared and ready to depart before dawn,” he said. “I intend to march straight through to Edinburgh where we will then take the ferry crossing to Dumferline. From there, I will hold the army stationery until I find out where de Beaumont is and the status of the situation. I will send you a missive at that point to let you know what is happening.”
Toby wasn’t particularly thrilled by any of it but she forced a smile as she sat her youngest child on the bench. She had been through this drill too many times not to have learned how to gracefully accept that which she could not change.
“I would appreciate that,” she said. “You will also let me know how Mathias is so that I may tell his wife.”
Mathias looked up from his cup. He could tell just by her tone that she must have had a long talk with Cathlina. It was, in fact, written all over her face as she met his gaze steadily.
“I did what I could, Mathias,” she murmured. “I hope that it is enough. She is not unreasonable. She is simply frightened.”
Feeling embarrassed and off-balance that someone else had to intervene in his personal problems, Mathias cleared his throat softly. “Where is my wife?” he asked.
Toby poured some boiled fruit juice for her younger children into small wooden cups. “I put her in a chamber on the top level,” she said. “She has said she does not wish to join our meal. I thought mayhap you could persuade her otherwise.”
Mathias averted his gaze, staring at his cup for a moment before silently rising from the table.
“Top floor, did you say?” he asked.
“First door on the left,” Toby replied.
Mathias quit the great hall without another word. The stairs of the keep were built into a corner turret, spiral madness that connected all four levels. Mathias mounted the steps all the way to the top floor of the keep where there were three oak and iron doors fitted into the stone walls. He went to the door immediately to his left and knocked softly.
“Aye?” It was Cathlina. “Toby, truly, I am very grateful for your concern, but I am exhausted and simply wish to sleep. I will see you on the morrow, I promise.”
“It is your husband,” Mathias said quietly.
There was a very long pause before someone threw the bolt on the opposite side of the door. Very slowly, it opened, and Cathlina’s face appeared in the dim light. Their eyes met and, for a moment, neither said a word. They just looked at each other. Finally, Cathlina spoke.
“I thought you had left,” she said softly.
For some reason, her quiet statement enraged him. He shoved the door open, pushing her back, as he came into the room and shut the door behind him. When he faced her, it was with his hands on his hips.
“Do you truly think I would leave without bidding you farewell?” he demanded.
Cathlina backed away from him because of the hazard in his tone. “I…,” she stammered. “I… I thought, well, that you were in a hurry so mayhap you had already rushed away.”
He was growing increasingly exasperated. He pointed at the bed with a big finger. “Sit down.”
It was a command and she knew it. Obediently, because she had never truly seen him enraged, she scooted over to the bed and planted herself. The mattress, a combination of straw and feathers, sank dramatically and pillows toppled off. Mathias picked up the pillows and threw them back on the bed angrily.
“Allow me to clarify something, Lady de Reyne,” he said, standing in front of her. “I would never leave you without bidding you farewell, no matter how foolish you have behaved or no matter how badly you have hurt me. Are we clear on that fact?”
Cathlina, looking at him with big eyes, nodded. He continued. “Secondly, you are my wife. I have told you that I love you and that has not changed. I have, since the moment we met, showed you uncompromised attention and affection. I have never once intimated to you that my knightly honor was more important than you, nor do I love war more than I love you. I do not love war. It is my vocation and it is in my blood. It is a part of me. I am sorry if this is shocking to you, but you knew before we were married what my true vocation was and what my plans were. At no time did I surprise you with any of this, did I?”
He was looking for an answer and Cathlina was tongue-tied. As she shook her head, weakly, he sat down on the bed and threw his arms around her. She shrieked as he fell onto his side, taking her with him. Now she was trapped in enormous arms, feeling his heat and life. His hot breath was in her face as his eyes bore into her.
“You have behaved appallingly for the past several days but I tell you now I will no longer stand for it,” he growled. “You are a grown woman and my wife, and your behavior is not befitting either position. You have married a knight and the sad fact of the matter is that knights fight battles. It is not because they want to but because they must. I do not want to leave you, but I must. Because you are the most important thing in the world to me, I must do all I can to ensure your safety and in this case it meant removing you from Scotland. It is because I love you more than anything that I do this. Am I making headway into your thick skull? I do not go to war because I want to but because I have to. My heart does not go with me because it is here, with you. I will return for my heart, and for you, because both are my world. This war I fight is because I said I would and for no other reason. Is this in any way unclear?”
By this time, Cathlina was looking rather beaten. “Mathias, I….”
He cut her off. “Tell me that you love me.”
Her features softened. “Of course I love you,” she murmured. “That is why….”
He cut her off again. “I know why,” he said. “I know the reason behind everything. Now, will you please stop behaving like a spoiled child who is not getting her way in all things and start behaving like the wife of a great knight who loves her with all of his heart?”
Cathlina stared at him a moment longer before offering him a weak smile. “Are you telling me that I can never again pitch a fit, for any reason?”
“Never.”
“That is not fair. I may have good reason some time.”
“If you do, I will evaluate it at that time.”
She giggled, putting her arms around his neck. Her small fingers caressed his dark head as she gazed into his dark green eyes. She relished the feel of him in her arms, his life and love against her. She couldn’t hold out against him any longer. Her anger was gone. She could no longer maintain it because her love for him was stronger than her fear.
“I am sorry if I hurt you,” she whispered. “I did not mean to. I have no excuse except this is all so new to me. I do not want anything to interfere in our beautiful world, especially not a Scottish war. I suppose I did not know any other way to react than with fear and anger.”
He was calming now that the situation between them was easing. He could only pray that she was truly seeing reason.
“I understand,” he said softly. “But tomorrow, I ride for Edinburgh and I do not want to have to worry that you are harboring resentment towards me. It would destroy me, Cathlina.”
“I would never resent you,” she whispered. “But I do worry about you. Am I not even allowed to do that?”
“Of course you can worry. But do not take that fear out on me.”
Cathlina sighed faintly. “I will try.”
“Swear it?”
“I do,” she agreed. “I… I am very proud of you, Mathias. I am proud of you whatever you do, whether you are a smithy or a knight. I told you that once before. I meant it.”
He smiled gently, cupping her sweet face with a big hand. “I know you fell in love with a smithy but ended up with a knight,” he said. “All I ask is that you trust that I will always come home to you, Cathlina. And even when we are separated, know that my heart is with you.”
“As mine is with you,” she said, running her fingers across his lips and watching him kiss her flesh. “I do love you so, Mat. I am just so frightened for you.”
“I know,” he kissed her hand and then her forehead. “But, as I said, you must trust that I will return to you.”
“I do,” she said, closing her eyes as he hugged her close. “Please forgive me for being so cruel.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” he replied into her hair. “But I will say this, I will miss you terribly. I look forward to my return more than you do.”
She smiled, looking up at him. “Will you have me remain at Carlisle while you are away or may I return to Kirklinton?”
He tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear that was tickling him in the nose. “That is your choice,” he said. “If you wish to return to Kirklinton, I am agreeable. I am sure you want to see your family.”
“I do,” she admitted. “I miss Abechail and even Roxane. And I would like to see my parents.”
“Then you may go to Kirklinton if it makes you happy.”
Thoughts of returning home brought about more thoughts of their future and what would become of them once he returned from Scotland. “Where will we live when all of this is over?” she asked. “I would like to think on something positive while you are gone.”
He lifted his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Hopefully Westbury will be returned to me when de Beaumont’s armies are victorious,” he said. “We will be going to the Welsh Marches.”
“I have never been there,” she said. “What is it like?”
He thought on Alberbury Castle, a place he hadn’t seen in a very long time. “Very mountainous,” he said. “There are dramatic rivers and tall mountains, green hills and big valleys. I think you will like it a great deal.”
“I am sure I will,” she said, stroking his cheek. “I am looking forward to raising our children there.”
He smiled faintly. “As am I,” he agreed, kissing her soft mouth. “Many, many children.”
His words were drowned out as he slanted over her lips hungrily, feeding on the adoration and passion he felt for the woman. All was well between them and that was all he cared about. He could focus on the army, and Scotland, tomorrow because tonight, all he could think of was Cathlina. He would give her every last bit of himself tonight and tuck the memories away to comfort himself with for times when he was feeling particularly lonely. Tonight, there were only the two of them, bathing in warmth and a love that was only once told of in legend.
Tonight, it belonged to them.