EPILOGUE
May 1333
Carlisle Castle
Thankfully, he was sleeping.
He slept a good deal of the time but in moments when he was awake, little Magnus de Reyne had lungs like a trumpet, louder than any baby Mathias had ever heard. He hadn’t been around a lot of babies, in fact, but he was convinced his six week old son had a louder voice than any child alive and he was very thankful that the child was currently sleeping peacefully in his mother’s arms. A crying baby made the new father nervous.
They were all crowded into Carlisle’s chapel for Magnus’ baptism on this sunny day in May: Tate, Toby, Kenneth, Stephen, Roxane, Rosalund, Saer, Cathlina and Mathias. The only people missing were Sebastian because he had been sent on an errand and Abechail because she had passed away the previous winter.
It had been a rather difficult few months since the youngest de Lara daughter’s passing with the grief of a young life cut short, but Cathlina’s pregnancy and the subsequent healthy birth of a rather large boy seemed to ease the ache of Abechail’s loss. Even Rosalund, who was still mentally unbalanced since the attack on Kirklinton and the loss of her youngest child, had helped deliver Magnus and took great pride in her grandson. It had been a good distraction for her.
Even now, Rosalund hovered over Cathlina and the baby as if fearful they were going to disappear. Roxane simply rolled her eyes at all of the fuss and wondered aloud when Sebastian was going to return. The two of them had struck up a courtship of sorts, strange as it was. They were both fickle, selfish people, so it made the relationship tricky at times. Aye, things were returning to normal.
Tate, Kenneth, Stephen and Mathias were all dressed in their finest armor as the priest recited the blessing in Latin and performed the baptism with blessed oil. Magnus had three Godfathers – Tate, Kenneth, and Stephen – and one Godmother, Toby, who was expecting her sixth child and lovely with the rosy glow of pregnancy. She stood next to Cathlina as the priest prayed, wiping the oil off of little Magnus’ skin when it dripped off his forehead.
Mathias also stood next to his wife, never more proud of anything in his life. He had a beautiful wife, and a healthy son, and he wanted for nothing. Life was good. He had spent the past year at Carlisle Castle serving Tate with the king’s permission. Although he had none of his titles restored, he understood the process and why he had been stationed with Tate even after his exemplary performance at Dupplin Moor. Essentially the king wanted to keep an eye on him and not heap too much upon him, too quickly. He was, after all, once the fallen. But he didn’t really mind. He was very happy to serve with Tate in a military capacity.
He lost himself in thought as the priest finished with the prayers and asked everyone to kneel while he gave the blessing. He helped Cathlina to her knees as Tate went to help his pregnant wife and they all bowed their heads as the benediction was given and the priest flicked more holy water on them. Some of it hit Magnus and Mathias cringed, waiting for the baby to let loose with his awesome wail, but the baby remained peacefully sleeping. Mathias breathed a sigh of relief.
When the service was over, they moved from the chapel to the great hall where Toby had arranged for a lovely feast. The hall was warm and fragrant as the servants began to bring forth bowls of mashed fruit, or boiled carrots with dill, and big platters of freshly baked bread. Cathlina cradled little Magnus against her as she carefully sat and allowed her husband to serve her. When an enormous platter with a suckling pig was produced, everyone sat down and helped themselves.
All except Tate, he had disappeared once they left the chapel and even now was absent as everyone enjoyed the food. Toby had the nurse bring her children down from their rooms and soon the hall was filled with the voices of children. When the younger ones began to scream because Stephen was teasing them, Mathias watched Magnus to see if the baby would awaken, but alas, he remained quiet and asleep. Satisfied, Mathias dug into his food.
As they were eating and talking, speaking on things both humorous and trivial, Tate entered the hall. Mathias glanced up from his pork, noticing that the man had a piece of vellum in his hand. When Tate drew close, he motioned at the scroll in his grip.
“What do you have?” he asked.
Tate eyed him. “I have an announcement to make,” he said. Then, he lifted his voice. “I have something very important to speak of. Stephen, stop tormenting my sons and listen to what I must tell you. You will want to hear this.”
Everyone quieted and Stephen stopped harassing the de Lara twins. He shushed them and made them sit on the bench beside him. When everyone was settled, Tate lifted the vellum in his hand.
“Good lords and ladies, I have received a missive from the king,” he said, scanning the writing on the vellum. “For exemplary service and brilliant conduct at the Battle of Dupplin Moor which resulted in a great victory, and for a long and distinguished military history, Edward has fully restored Mathias’ status as a Knight of the Realm. Furthermore, he has bequeathed upon him the following titles: Earl of Bristol, Baron Westbury, and High Warden of the West. Along with these titles comes more lands and property than I have the time to list, but it is all here on this missive. Congratulations, Mat. You are once again among the ranks of the nobles in good standing.”
Cheers went up all around as Mathias sat there, looking rather shocked by the whole thing. It wasn’t until he looked at Cathlina, beaming at him, that he began to process what Tate had said. He stood up rather uncertainly and took the missive that Tate was extending at him.
“Earl?” he repeated.
“Of Bristol,” Tate said with a grin. “Good God, man, you nearly have as many titles as I have. How does it feel?”
Mathias had to shake himself. “I am not entirely sure,” he said. “I do not know what to say except… thank you. I am sure you had a hand in all of this.”
Tate grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “I simply told Edward the truth,” he said. “That you are the kind of knight all men aspire to be but seldom are. Everything you have been granted is well deserved.”
As the news began to sink deeper, Mathias loosened up. He smiled at Tate. “I can hardly believe it,” he said. “Is there anything in the missive about Sebastian? Is he restored as well?”
Tate nodded. “Baron Beckington,” he said. “His lands border yours.”
Mathias’ eyebrows lifted in surprise. “A baron?” he repeated. “God’s Bones, I will never hear the end of how great he thinks he is. I sincerely wish my father was alive to see his sons restored to a greater glory.”
Tate’s humor faded somewhat and he again slapped him on the shoulder. “He knows,” he said quietly. “Wherever Justus is, he surely knows.”
“I hope so.”
Mathias sat back down next to Cathlina and laid the missive out on the table, reading over the details. Kenneth and Stephen joined him, both of them very happy for their friend. They spoke of their past, their present, and their plans for the future. It seemed that Kenneth was headed for the Welsh Marches and Stephen was headed back to Berwick to battle the Scots. Mathias knew that wherever they all went, or how long they were separated, it would never dampen or weaken the bonds of their friendship. Men who had stood behind him through his darkest hour and who were as close to him as brothers.
The group remained in the hall well into the evening hours, enjoying de Lara’s fine wine and speaking of things both important and trivial. Eventually, Saer took Rosalund to bed, for she needed a great deal of rest these days, and Cathlina sat in a chair near the hearth and gently rocked her son, who had slept most of the afternoon away. Roxane sat with her. Toby took her brood up to bed and they could hear the twins screaming two floors above them.
As Mathias, Kenneth and Stephen sat around the end of the feasting table and relived old times, the entry door to the keep swung open. Cathlina had her back turned to the door and couldn’t see who it was, but she didn’t have to. Mathias let loose with one word.
“Sebastian!”
Sebastian the Red looked weary and dirty as he walked into the hall bearing an enormous box. He eyed his brother as he approached the feasting table and set the box upon it. Mathias looked at the box with great anticipation.
“Did you get it?” he demanded.
Sebastian was tired and irritated. “I did.”
“Are you sure?”
“See for yourself,” he said. “You know how much I hated that beast. He came right up to me and kissed me, so I knew it was him.”
Mathias grinned as he collected the box and went over to his wife. Carefully, he set the box down at her feet. She looked at him curiously.
“What do you have?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at Sebastian. “What did you bring, Sebastian?”
Mathias’ smile broadened. “I made you a promise last year that I was unable to keep until now,” he said. “With the battles, the rebuild of Kirklinton, and Magnus’ birth, it completely slipped my mind. Therefore, in honor of Magnus’ baptism, as my gift to you, I sent Sebastian back to Scotland to fulfill my promise.”
Cathlina genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. “What is it?”
Mathias pulled off the top of the wooden box and immediately, a dark furry head popped up. Beady brown eyes looked at Cathlina and, for a moment, she was speechless. But in the next instance, she was gasping with delight.
Midgy the otter gazed at his former mistress with as much happiness as an otter could muster. When Midgy slithered out of the box, he wasn’t alone; three little baby Midgys slithered out after him. It would seem that Midgy had returned home to breed and now, in late spring, had three little ones in tow. Midgy, as it turned out, was a girl.
“Midgy!” Cathlina squealed.
Magnus awoke to his mother’s happy voice, raising the roof of Carlisle’s keep with his lusty and loud cry, and Mathias couldn’t have been more thrilled… with all of it.
The Fallen One had had been reborn, richer than before.
* THE END *