“Correct,” he said. “De Lara has sent Pembury to accompany me north but if the man does not show, then I will have no choice but to push north and find Henry without him.”
She looked at him seriously. “Do you think something has happened to him?”
Mathias shook his head firmly. “Pembury? Bloody unlikely. The man is invincible. I am sure he is on his way but if he does not come soon, he will have to catch up to us. I cannot wait much longer.”
Cathlina opened her mouth to say something but Sebastian was suddenly at the door, knocking swiftly. “Mat?” he hissed. “Someone is at the door.”
Mathias was on the move, unsheathing the big, sharp but unadorned broadsword that had accompanied him north. Telling Cathlina to bolt the bedchamber door, he shut it softly and moved for the door that opened up into the corridor outside. Sebastian had collected his broadsword and together, the two of them went to answer their caller.
“Who comes?” Mathias demanded.
“Open the door or I will break it down.”
Sebastian immediately tensed for a fight while Mathias cocked his head curiously. The voice was deep and booming, but there was something about it that he thought he recognized. The words didn’t frighten him at all because somehow, someway, he could sense mirth. Aye, he recognized the voice now. Yanking the door open, he lashed out a massive balled fist and made contact with some portion of a body. He wasn’t sure which part he hit. He struck out as hard as he could.
The man at the door fell back as Mathias made contact with his throat. Slamming back into the wall of the corridor, he didn’t try to fight back. He was too busy gasping for air because Mathias had hit him squarely on the Adam’s apple. As the manslumped against the wall, Mathias and Sebastian stood over him.
“How many times have I told you not to stand so close to a door when issuing threats?” Mathias scolded. “Next time, it could be more than a fist that comes out at you. It could be a broadsword.”
The man had his left hand wrapped around his neck, gazing up at Mathias and Sebastian with a mixture of irritation and humor. Clad in heavy and expensive battle armor, he was well prepared for any manner of armed offensive but a fist to the neck, where he only had a mail hauberk, had him reeling.
“You bastard,” the man rasped. “I shall get you for this, I swear it.”
Mathias just shook his head. It was readily evident that he knew the man, as did Sebastian. After several long seconds of pregnant and tense silence, the man against the wall suddenly burst out in chuckles, which caused Mathias and Sebastian to follow suit. Soon, the three of them were laughing uproariously.
“Pembury,” Mathias reached out a hand to pull the man off the wall. “Where in the hell have you been? I have been looking for you for a week.”
Stephen of Pembury took Mathias’ hand and pulled himself up. He was an enormously muscled man standing eight inches over six feet and was easily taller than even the tallest man. In fact, Pembury was a giant wherever he went. With his dark hair, chiseled features and cornflower blue eyes, he cut a striking figure of male virility and power, and had more than his share of female admirers. He was enormously strong, intelligent and obedient to a fault. He also happened to be Mathias’ closest friend and the two of them came together in a hug that reaffirmed the bonds of that friendship. Then Mathias pulled him inside the sitting room and shut the door.
“I have been at the Bucket and Barrel for two days,” Stephen said, still rubbing his throat. “The innkeeper told me that two men had been coming daily looking for me but I could not be sure it was you. I had to be careful, you know. Yesterday, I hid while I paid a man to follow you back here. When he described the men he had followed, I was certain it was you. And here I am.”
Mathias shook his head as Sebastian grinned. “Here you are,” Sebastian said, very happy to see him. “Where have you been keeping yourself for the past year? We heard you were with Edward in Scotland.”
Stephen nodded as he pulled off his helm and moved to make himself more comfortable. “Mostly in Newcastle and Berwick,” he said. “The Scots have been a handful, fighting each other for the throne and then battling the English for independence. I have hardly seen de Lara or St. Héver. How are they?”
“Well,” Mathias said. “We just left them, in fact.”
“That is good,” Stephen said as he set his helm on the nearest table. His cornflower blue gaze sought out Mathias. “And you? How have you been this year past?”
The last time Mathias and Stephen had seen each other was shortly after Mathias had been stripped of his titles. It had been a painful parting and, frankly, Mathias didn’t remember too much of it. All he had remembered clearly was the anguish.
“I have been well,” he said quietly. “My brother and father and I were living in Brampton, operating a rather successful smithy business. It has been a quiet year and one of reflection.”
Stephen nodded in understanding. “You were entitled to some much needed rest.”
“I received it.”
“And now you are ready to return to us?”
Mathias shrugged. “It is time to move on with my life and resume my chosen profession,” he said. “Edward will simplyhave to understand that. I cannot remain a smithy for the rest of my life.”
Pembury shook his head firmly. “You are too great for that,” he said, eyeing Mathias. “I have been waiting for this day, in fact. I knew it would come sooner rather than later. I have some things for you.”
Mathias looked at him. “What do you have?”
Stephen smiled faintly. “Your sword,” he said softly. “I have your sword, your equipment, and your charger. I brought them with me.”
Mathias’ features went slack with shock. “You did?” he asked, awed. “I… I had turned them over to the court’s magistrate. I had no idea where they had gone.”
