Cathlina was watching the dusty road pass under her feet, her damp slipper with a brown ring around the bottom. The softly uttered words were not the combination of words she had expected and when the meaning struck her, she looked at him in shock.
“Am I…?” she repeated, eyes wide. “Why… why would you ask?”
“Cathlina!”
The shout came from down the avenue. Cathlina and Mathias turned to see Tate approaching. His expression was filled with concern, with relief, as he quickly came upon them. His focus was completely on Cathlina.
“Cathlina, are you well?” he asked. “I am happy to see that Mathias was able to find you.”
Cathlina looked rather embarrassed, her gaze moving between Tate and Mathias. “I… I am well,” she assured Tate. “I am sorry if I caused you concern. I was… well, I am sure my father is looking for me. I was simply trying to make my way back and lost my way.”
Tate took her from Mathias. “I will take you to him.”
Cathlina looked at Mathias in panic as Tate pulled her away. “Mathias,” she called, but realized she couldn’t say what she was thinking. She scrambled as she thought of a way to phrase it. “In… in answer to your question, it depends on who is asking. Were you inquiring for yourself, perchance?”
Mathias’ eyes glimmered at her as Tate tried to lead her away. “I was.”
She grinned. “In that case, I am not.”
He laughed softly, watching Tate urge her down the avenue with him. Cathlina giggled, waving at him as he waved back. It was a sweet moment in spite of Tate’s presence, the looks between Cathlina and Mathias full of potential and promise.
Mathias lowered his hand, watching her disappear from view with her enormous cousin, the vision of her smiling face the last memory he held to him. He held it close as he headed back for the smithy stall, keeping the vision of her as his inspiration. All his life, he’d been told what cause to fight for, whether or not he truly believed in it. That sense of duty had cost him everything. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. Now, he had his own cause to fight for.
He had a tournament to participate in.
CHAPTER NINE
By the timethe tournament festivities began around mid-day, the breeze had picked up and the standards surrounding the field were snapping briskly. Fat, puffy clouds danced across the blue expanse of sky, carrying with them the threat of rain as they passed. In the tournament arena below, the perimeter of the competition area was packed with spectators.
The lists containing the crowd were small and hastily constructed, and they were already full of people. There was a section for the Earl of Carlisle’s family, now full of Toby and her five children– Roman, daughter Catherine, the rambunctious twins Dylan and Alex, and baby Sophie. There was also a seat for Tate but since he was competing, Saer sat upon it and laughed at the antics of his cousin’s children. The rough boys were busy playing knights, pushing each other down, and adding to the fun. Watching the rough twins roll their older brother was great entertainment.
Cathlina, Roxane, Abechail, and Rosalund had a rough bench to sit on but it was enough. They had a great view of the field. At their feet on the rough-boarded floor was a linen cloth spread out containing a small table with food upon it. There was an abundance of fruit, bread, cheese, plus little puddings in wooden cups that were made from mint and lemon and honey.
There was also something that they had never seen before, something that the young de Lara children scooped up out of a earthenware bowl and shoved gleefully into their mouths. Upon tasting the dish, Cathlina and Abechail were told it was calledpastos,a dish consisting of long, cooked sheets of wheatand eggs, all mixed up in a sauce that consisted of cheese, milk, nutmeg, and a few other ingredients. It was creamy and delicious. It was a dish that Tate and Toby had collected on their travels to Italy years go and the de Lara children ate it quite regularly.
As the earl’s young children and Abechail sat on the floor of the lists and ate, Cathlina and Roxane were more interested in the knights that were now starting to take the field for practice. The first series of games would be the joust and a big wooden guide had been built in the center of the arena to keep opponents from crashing into each other as they made their charge. Even now, workmen were finishing with the reinforcement of the guides as the field marshals kept close watch on both the workmen and the knights that were thundering around the field.
It was beginning to get exciting. Saer came off of his seat and stood at the railing with Cathlina and Roxane, watching the knights take the field astride their massive war horses. Saer had allowed Dunstan and Beauson to enter the competition to represent Kirklinton Castle, and they entered the field fairly early clad in the colors of the house of Saer de Lara. Their tunics bore a big yellow axe right on the chest.
“Papa, are you disappointed that you are not competing?” Cathlina asked as a big knight in a green and black tunic blew past.
Saer watched the knight, too, scrutinizing him. “I am not,” he said flatly. “Although tournaments were great sport when I was young, I am afraid it is indeed a younger man’s sport. If I were to compete today, I would be easily defeated.”
“Did you win many tournaments?” Roxane wanted to know.
Saer’s attention was on the Earl of Carlisle now making an appearance on the field, a big man on a black and white charger bearing a tunic of crimson and gold. Toby and her oldest son, a handsome and well behaved lad named Roman, began to yelland wave at the earl. Tate thundered onto the field and the crowd, seeing that the earl had arrived, began to cry for him as well. Behind Tate came another knight bearing the earl’s colors astride a muscular dappled gray charger. When the two of them thundered out into the arena, the energy level of the crowd surged.
“Who is the other knight bearing the earl’s colors?” Roxane asked, squinting at the distant figure.
Saer was squinting, too. “I believe it is St. Héver,” he said, then cast his daughter a long glance. “You will not make a nuisance of yourself with him, do you hear? The man is not interested in marriage.”
Roxane’s lip stuck out in a pout as she turned away from her father, trying very hard not to watch every move St. Héver made as he deftly controlled his horse on the other side of the arena.
“I was not going to,” she sniffed, offended. “I simply wanted to know who it was, ’tis all.”
Saer cocked an eyebrow as if he didn’t believe her, returning his attention to the knights that were now starting to circle the arena, warming up their chargers. Cathlina glanced at her sister, trying not to make eye contact because she was sure her sister was already upset about the fact St. Héver was here and Cathlina didn’t want to confess that she had seen the man earlier. It would only inflame Roxane. As the chargers rushed past, kicking up clods of earth, she sought to change the subject.
“There are quite a lot of knights here,” she said to her father. “How many do you think there are?”
