Catalina smiled at her. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I promise that I will take good care of him. You needn’t worry because I will make sure he is happy, always. And I promise you that, someday, you will meet someone whose heart speaks to yours. You’ll know it right away and it will make every heartache you’ve ever experienced fade away. You won’t even remember them anymore.”
Rebecca smiled reluctantly. She was feeling quite ashamed for her behavior now. She’d started to say something when movement behind Catalina caught her attention. She could see someone wrapped in cloaks coming down the ladder from the loft, stumbling through the hay on the ground at the base of the ladder, before heading in her direction.
Catalina caught Rebecca’s expression and turned to see a tall, skinny figure swathed in cloaks and scarves coming near. The girls were far enough away, playing with puppies, that theydidn’t even see the figure, but Catalina and Rebecca did. Catalina stood up first, followed by Rebecca, as the figure came close.
They were preparing to defend themselves.
“I am sorry to interrupt,” the figure said, mouth muffled by the fabric around his face. “Might I have some water? If you can tell me where the well is, I can draw it myself.”
He sounded sickly and pathetic. Both of them could see how badly he was trembling and how weak he was. The cloaks he wore, and there were layers of them, were dirty and tattered and they could smell him from where they stood. The only thing they could see of him were his eyes, and the skin around them was scarred and red. As both women stared at him, something occurred to Catalina.
He is wrapped up in a cloak and something around his head, covering up everything but his eyes.
That was what Lance had said about the mysterious man who had given him the cross. Therefore, Catalina knew instantly who it was and her heart surged into her throat.
My God…He’d found her.
Somehow, he’d found her.
“Who are you?” Rebecca demanded, cutting into Catalina’s train of thought. “What are you doing here?”
It was an aggressive question, and Catalina hoped it wouldn’t set the man off. She had no way of knowing if he had violent tendencies, so she did the only thing she could do—she tried to ease the situation. Her daughters were here and she needed to protect them from someone who might be out to harm them all. She had no way of knowing.
Carefully, she proceeded.
“This is a man in need, Lady Rebecca,” she said calmly. She took a step toward the man, indicating for him to sit on an old stool amongst the straw on the ground. “Sit down. We’ll bringyou some water. Have you eaten? Do you wish for some food also?”
The man didn’t seem too apt to sit down in the stool that Catalina was indicating. “I do not wish to be trouble,” he said. “But I will take any sustenance you might have. Even oats for the pigs will suffice.”
He didn’t sound violent. In fact, he sounded quite weak and pathetic, so Catalina turned to Rebecca.
“We must help this poor man,” she said quietly. “Will you look around and see what the stable boys have left behind? Sometimes they have wine and bread around should they become hungry. Look around and see what you can find, please.”
Rebecca nodded, though she was still on her guard. Nonetheless, she turned around and began to hunt for anything the stable hands might have had stashed away. Catalina was right—often, those who worked in the stables kept food around for themselves. Working the stables could mean long, difficult hours. Adabella and Ines, seeing that Rebecca was looking for something, joined in the hunt, and the puppies followed.
“We will find you something,” Catalina said to the man. “Are you traveling somewhere?”
He did sit down, then, and through his cloak, Catalina could see that his legs were no bigger than bird’s legs.
“Nay, my lady,” he said. “I have reached my destination, I think.”
“Do you have a name?”
“Al, my lady.”
“Where are you from, Al?”
He paused. “I do not know,” he said. “I have come to Lioncross in the hope that someone here can tell me that.”
Catalina watched him. She could see the outline of his face through the scarf and she could see that he had no nose. At least, there was nothing there where a nose would be. The very eyesthat she’d told Essien she would recognize if, in fact, the man was Alfred were quite weary. She could see that in everything about him—bone weariness.
Despair.
Given she knew why he was here, there was no reason to drag out the situation by playing games. She simply didn’t have the time. Reaching into her purse at her side, she pulled forth the old, twisted cross.
She held it up between them.
“Did you give this to a knight and ask him to seek Lord Eckington?” she asked. “Was that you?”
