Saer de Lara was standing behind them with Abechail on one side of him and Roman de Lara on the other. By the look on his face, Mathias knew the man had seen the entire incident.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“De Reyne,” Saerhissed. “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 dooron 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 isnotwicked,” 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. “Carefor 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.
“Courtyou?” 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 wasvery 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.
