“Es!” It was Jonathan. “We have been looking for you. We have games going on in the hall and you are needed!”
Essien came to an irritated stop, turning to Catalina. “My apologies for what I am about to do, my lady,” he said politely. “I will get rid of him.”
He gently took her hand off his elbow before turning to Jonathan and shoving the man back by the chest. “Do you not see that I am walking with a lady, Wolfie?” he said angrily. “You nearly bowled her over with your rude behavior.”
Jonathan wasn’t alone. Ashton was there, also, the enormous blond knight with the dashing looks. Someone had once said he looked like an archangel, and he did, if one believed thepaintings of those divine beings. He was also the less drunk of the pair, grabbing hold of Jonathan to steady the man.
“We were heading to the garderobe, but Wolfie saw you and went running across the bailey,” he said. Then he focused on Catalina. “My apologies, my lady, if he has upset you.”
Catalina shook her head. “Not at all, my lord.”
Ashton merely smiled and tried to pull Jonathan away, but the big knight wouldn’t move. “I am not leaving until Es promises to come inside and be on my team,” he said, reaching out to grab Essien. “De Norville has a serving wench on his shoulders and we are battling in the hall. The women are trying to push each other off our shoulders.”
Essien frowned. “God’s Bones, Wolfie,” he said. “Someone is going to get hurt.”
Jonathan frowned. “No one is going to get hurt,” he said. Suddenly, he pushed past Essien and grasped Catalina by the wrist. “Come inside, my lady. You can ride on Essien’s shoulders. We are betting money on who will win, so you could win a purse!”
Catalina was faced with a very big, very sweaty man who had hold of her arm. Under normal circumstances, she probably would have shoved a finger in his eye, but she knew he was a friend of Essien’s. He wasn’t trying to hurt her. God knows, the man was drunk. Quite drunk. She saw Essien move to grab him out of the corner of her eye and she held up a hand to him, holding him off.
Her focus was on Jonathan.
“Come closer,” she said to him, crooking a finger. “I must tell you something.”
Jonathan leaned into her, weaving drunkenly. “Will you come?” he asked.
Catalina shook her head. “I cannot,” she muttered. “Sir Essien was taking me to see my dying mother and you arepreventing him from doing so. Will you please let me go so that I may see my mother before she dies?”
Jonathan appeared stricken. He released her immediately. “Forgive me,” he said, too drunk to realize that she probably hadn’t brought her dying mother to a tournament. “You must go immediately. Forgive me.”
She smiled sweetly and reached out to take Essien’s arm again. “Thank you,” she said to Jonathan. “Good eve to you, my lord.”
She was pulling Essien along, who had heard what she said and was quite impressed by the way she handled that big, bumbling idiot. A loveable idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.
“Well done, my lady,” he muttered, his voice full of approval. “You handled Wolfie perfectly.”
She smiled modestly. “I can tell he has great regard for you,” she said. “He was not trying to hurt you or me. He simply needed to be gently handled.”
He looked at her, at her lowered head as she watched the ground beneath her feet, and thought that, perhaps, she was potentially a woman of substance. It was difficult to tell after having known her less than a day, but he was usually a fairly good judge of character when his emotions didn’t get in the way. He wasn’t feeling emotional about her other than polite interest for now, so he could see her more clearly at the moment than he might in the days and weeks and years to come.
So far, he liked what he saw.
“Well done,” he said again, patting her hand as he clutched his elbow. “You are a woman of tact.”
Catalina didn’t say anything. She was smiling, her head down, watching the ground pass beneath her feet. They came through the gatehouse and she once again pointed toward her father’s section of the encampment, and it was, indeed, right on the edge of the encampment as a whole. For safety’s sake,competitor encampments were always next to the castle in case they had to quickly move inside in the event of an attack, so that was simply the tradition at most locations. They were just heading into the fringe of the encampment, with her father’s area about thirty feet ahead, when they began to hear shouting.
Bellowing, in truth.
Catalina came to a brief halt. “That sounds like my father,” she said, puzzled. “But why would he be yelling so?”
Essien wasn’t sure, but the closer they came to the tent and the general de Barenton encampment, the more yelling there was. Two voices. Then Lance shot out of the big blue tent with Harald behind him, swinging something at him. Essien couldn’t tell if it was a club or a mace, but it was something. Harald was brandishing it like a weapon, striking Lance on the shoulder before the man swiftly moved out of his range.
“Get out!” Harald was screaming. “Take your things and leave my encampment. You will leave my sight, le Kerque, and never return. Do you hear me?”
Essien came to a halt, but Catalina ran toward Harald. “Father?” she said, concerned. “What is the trouble?”
Harald saw her coming and the rage on his face was evident. “You,” he said angrily. “You are the trouble. Women are nothing but trouble. Now le Kerque is enraged that I betrothed you to Hereford’s man and he is calling me a charlatan and a liar. He wanted to marry you, but I gave you over to another. He is questioning my honor because of you! He is threatening me!”
Essien stepped into the fray, putting himself between Lance, who was busy grabbing his things out of a smaller tent, and a nearly hysterical Harald.
