“Now,” he said quietly, “we are out of earshot of everyone and you have regained your composure, so I have a question.”
Catalina nodded. “Of course, Essien,” she said. “I will answer anything.”
“Why was Lance in the tent with you, alone, as soon as I left?”
She could hear the hazard in his tone and it occurred to her what he might be thinking—that there was something clandestine going on between her and Lance, something she’d been hiding from him the entire time. Of course, that wasn’t the case.
It was worse than anything he could imagine.
Her eyes began to well up again.
“My God,” she breathed. “I think we are in trouble, Essien.”
He frowned. “What trouble?”
She was still sniffling as she produced the bent cross, extending it to him. “Lance brought me that.”
He took it curiously, looking it over. “What is it?”
Catalina wiped her eyes. “It is why Lance came to see me,” she said. “He said that there was a man lurking around Lioncross and Lance thought he was a thief. He confronted theman, who proceeded to tell him that he had come here because he was looking for me.”
Essien still wasn’t clear. “What does that have to do with this cross?”
“Because the man needed help in identifying it,” she said. Then she broke down in tears. “Essien, you do not understand. I gave that cross to Alfred when he departed for France.”
Now, the situation was starting to make some sense. Horrible, disorienting sense. “What?” Essien spat. “This belonged to Alfred de Barenton?”
Tears streamed down her face. “It did,” she said. “There is an inscription on the back.”
Shocked, Essien flipped the cross over. He could barely make out the etching. “Allez avec Dieu,” he read, his voice trembling. “Go with God.”
Catalina was sobbing. “Go with God,” she confirmed. “I had a goldsmith in Worcester put those words there. Lance said that the man did not remember who he was because of a terrible accident, but somehow, he was led here, to me. I do not know how he came here, but he did. He wants to know if I know who gave him that cross, and I am afraid… I am afraid it is Alfred returned, Essien. I’m afraid my husband has come back.”
She was weeping so hard at that point that he could hardly understand her, but he understood enough. It was absolutely astonishing. He could see how upset she was and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.
He didn’t know what else to do.
“I have not asked what happened to Alfred,” he said hoarsely. “I knew you would tell me in your own time, but now, I must ask. What happened to him?”
Catalina clung to him. “Alfred had a brother in France, a warlord, who had property,” she wept. “His brother needed help with a warring neighbor, so Alfred took one hundred men andsailed to Calais, only he never made it. I received word that the ship went up in flames within sight of Calais and all aboard were lost. He was burned alive.”
Essien was starting to see where this was going. “So you never had a body to bury?”
“Nay,” she whispered. “The ship sank with all aboard, or so I was told.”
“Who told you?”
“His brother.”
“Then it is possible Alfred survived and is only now returning.”
“That is my fear.”
Essien felt sick. Sicker than he’d ever felt in his life, more desperate and disappointed than he’d ever felt in his life. In fact, his entire life was playing out before his eyes, and if what Catalina said was true, and Alfred was alive, then the rest of his life would be without her.
There was no way he’d be able to survive the pain.
There had to be a way out of this.
