“Mayhap.”
“It is true. You know it is true.”
Mathias sighed faintly, folding a big arm behind his head as he watched the night sky. Thoughts other than his wife began to populate his mind now that he was thinking about Carlisle and the battle that lay ahead.
“It was so easy,” he admitted, “so very easy to think logically at Dupplin. It was so simple to see how overwhelmed we were by the superior Scots forces and to know that the only way to defeat them, or at least gain the upper hand, was a surprise attack. So we swept over their camp in the night when they were sleeping and decimated their ranks. But when the battle continued in the morning and were able to use the terrain and the archers to our advantage, everything happened as it should. It was as if God was on our side and victory was assured. But now, with renegade Scots preparing to close in on Carlisle where Cathlina is, I cannot help feeling foolish, as if I scattered them to her doorstep. I feel as if I have failed her because the very reason I sent her to Carlisle in the first place was for her safety. Now see what has happened.”
By this time, Sebastian was propped up on one elbow in the grass, watching his brother beat himself up over something he had no control over. He hastened to reassure the man.
“You established the criteria for battle that will be utilized for years to come,” he insisted. “You were brilliant in positioning our army and using the longbows against the Scots foot infantry with their spears. As fast as our archers could reload on the slopes, that is how fast they killed the Scots infantry downslope as they tried to reach us. God knows how many English lives you saved, Mathias. The fact that the Scots army broke apart and fled is a testament to your brilliance, but you could not have known in which direction they were fleeing or what target they had in mind.”
Mathias sighed faintly. “I will not receive the credit for this battle,” he said softly. “Henry de Beaumont will be chronicled asthe mastermind behind the victory, and I am accepting of that. Had we fallen, he would have been chronicled as the defeated. In any case, I am no longer concerned with Dupplin Moor or the long-reaching implications of the battle. I am only concerned with reaching Carlisle and my wife.”
Sebastian lay back down in the grass and gazed up at the stars. “Father was proud of you, you know,” he muttered. “He knew what you had done. He went to his grave proud of you.”
“Proud ofus,” Mathias corrected. “He was proud ofus. I will admit that it was difficult to face battle without him. It is the first battle I have ever fought without my father by my side.”
“For me, as well,” Sebastian said. Then he pointed to the sky. “But he is up there, watching over us. He is with Mother, and that is where he has wanted to be all along. I do not grieve for him because he is finally at peace with her.”
Mathias rolled his head over, looking at his brother as the man stared up at the sky. “That is a very astute thing to say, little brother,” he said. “But we still have each other, and I have Cathlina. We will still make a fine, strong family.”
Sebastian snorted. “I suppose I must find a wife now. You married the only woman I had ever had an eye on.”
Mathias sat up in a huff. “God’s Bones, Sebastian,” he gruffed as he rose to his feet. “You have had your eye on innumerable women in my lifetime. Cathlina has a sister, you know. Mayhap you should focus your attention on her.”
Sebastian looked up at his brother with interest. “Which sister? Isn’t the younger one ill?”
“She has an older sister, Roxane,” he said. “She is the one Cathlina fights with.”
Sebastian grinned. “So the sister has spirit? I like that. Aye, mayhap I will give her a second look when we arrive at Carlisle.”
“Then let us get the men roused so we can move within the hour.”
Sebastian bolted to his feet with the lure of a woman dangling before him. The sooner they get to Carlisle, the sooner he could get an eyeful of the Lady Roxane de Lara. As Mathias rolled up his bedroll and began heading to the corral where the chargers were tethered in the thick green grass, he began to hear the shouts of sentries. Immediately, the bedroll hit the ground and both he and Sebastian had their broadswords readied as they jogged across the encampment, heading in the direction of the alerts. By the time they reached the source, Tate and Stephen were already interrogating the man who had breached their boundaries. Mathias moved closer and saw that it was one of their scouts.
“I barely escaped, my lord,” the man was telling Tate. “They saw the patrol and set after us. I was fortunate to have reached you.”
Tate’s features were grim. “Tell me what you saw.”
The scout took a few deep breaths and then downed a cup of wine handed to him by another soldier. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before replying.
“Our patrol crossed into Longtown, north of Carlisle, when the tracks of the Scot army veered off to the southeast,” he said. “We followed and saw that they had closed in on your garrison at Kirklinton Castle. But it seemed to me as if it was not the entire army so I sent two men to Carlisle Castle and they came back to tell me that the castle was under threat by a substantial army of Scots. It would seem they split their forces and were raiding both castles, my lord.”
Tate was trying not to look too worried. “What else did you see? Were the castles holding?”
The scout nodded. “They were, my lord. It appeared to me that the Scots were only just starting to dig in. They were building ladders. It did not seem as if any real battle had yet begun.”
“How long ago was this?”
“At least a day, my lord.”
“Twelve hours?”
“Or more, my lord. I am not entirely sure how long I have been running because I had to make a few detours in order to lose my pursuers.”
Tate saw Mathias’ face in the darkness and their eyes met, locked on each other, and silent thoughts began to pass between them. The siege of both castles was unexpected and wholly disheartening. Tate finally motioned to Stephen and Sebastian, who moved back through the encampment shouting for men to pack their belongings and prepare to depart. As the army began to stir, moving to carry out the orders, Tate moved to Mathias.
“We will have to split the force,” he said with quiet urgency. “As much as I do not relish doing so, Kirklinton will need aid. Mat, you will take four hundred men to Kirklinton and make short work of the Scots there. Then you will move on to Carlisle to reinforce me. I will send a messenger this night to Harbottle Castle and empty her of her might force. That should bring another one thousand men to Carlisle and with those numbers, we should make short work of the Scots.”
