At least, Essien was the one she wanted to see. She was puzzled why Lance was with him, but she couldn’t stop to think about that now. Keeping an eye on Al and Rebecca, she made her way over to the stable entry. When Essien saw her, he began to run, and she ran out to meet him. His arms went around her as they came together and he hugged her tightly.
“What are you doing here?” he said, sounding concerned. “You were supposed to remain in the bailey. What did you—?”
She put her fingers over his lips to silence him. “I found him,” she said simply, taking Essien by the hand and pulling him toward the stable. “The man who gave Lance the cross. I found him. Well, he found me, in truth. He was in the stable.”
Essien’s eyes widened. “He’s in there?” he asked. “Damnation! Let me—”
“Nay,” Catalina said, putting her hands on his chest as he tried to move past her. “There is no need for violence or force, Essien. He is very calm. He is talking to Rebecca. He is hungry and confused, so do not be harsh with him. There is no need.”
“Rebecca?” he repeated, confused. “What is she doing in the stable?”
“A story for another time,” Catalina said quickly. “Please, Essien. You must be calm, I beg you.”
Essien was geared up for a fight, but his wife’s plea and Addax’s encouraging expression forced him to cool. After a moment, he nodded, a silent agreement to behave, as Catalina took his hand again and led him into the stable.
It was just as she’d said.
With Adabella and Ines in the distance rolling around in hay and playing with puppies, Essien’s eyes found Rebecca’s bright red hair as she sat on the ground next to a man swathed in cloaks and tattered remnants. The stable was dim, with light coming from the entry and a few windows, so Rebecca and the man were mostly sitting in shadows. They could hear the soft hum of conversation as Rebecca spoke of fried balls of dough she’d had in London and how the cook at Lioncross couldn’t quite replicate them. But the knights must have made a sound as they approached, because Rebecca quickly looked up at them, followed by the man in rags.
Thinking he was about to be grabbed and put in the vault, or even attacked, the man suddenly lurched to his feet and tried to run, but he tripped over Rebecca and sprawled on the floor of the stable. Rebecca, ignoring the fact that she’d just been kicked in the shoulder, jumped up and put herself between the man and Essien and Addax.
“Nay!” she said. “Essien al-Kort, you’ll not hurt this man. He’s done nothing!”
“He has not come to hurt him, I promise,” Catalina assured her. “Rebecca, this man had something that belonged to my dead husband. That is why he is here. He is not a random visitor. Did he tell you that?”
Rebecca looked puzzled. “Nay,” she said, frowning as she looked at the man now picking himself off the ground. “Why did you have something that belonged to her first husband?”
The man was trembling terribly, making standing up something difficult. His eyes darted between Essien and Addax and Lance nervously. He recognized Lance, and that only seemed to frighten him further. He tried to answer, but no sounds were coming out until he emitted something that sounded like a groan.
Then he burst into tears.
“Forgive me,” he said, sobbing. “I had nowhere else to go. I had to come.”
By this time, Adabella and Ines had seen the fall, heard the weeping, and they were frightened. They ran to their mother, who could only pick up one of them. She wasn’t strong enough to pick up both of them for any length of time. Rebecca rushed to her side and took Ines, who was more than happy to go to the nice lady with the pretty hair. In fact, she wasn’t scared anymore, as she was simply fascinated by Rebecca’s mane. As she played with her hair, Essien spoke steadily to the man.
“My name is Essien,” he said. “This is my brother, Addax, and you have already met Lance. Are you the man who gave him Alfred’s cross to bring to Lord Eckington’s daughter?”
The man nodded, still weeping. “I… I wanted to know if she could identify it,” he said. “I took it.”
“That is not what you told me,” Lance said, entering the conversation. “You told me that you were wearing it when you were injured and you lost your memory in the accident. When your memory started returning, the name Eckington came to you, so you made your way here to see if you could discover where you came from.Thatis what you told me.”
The man looked at Lance, who looked as if he’d been on the wrong end of a fight. “I did,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I did tell you that.”
Lance pointed at Catalina. “Do you know who this woman is?”
The man looked at her, his sobs fading. “She was very kind to me,” he said. “So was the other lady. Very kind.”
“That was not the question,” Essien said. “Who is this woman?”
He was gesturing to Catalina. The man stared at her for a moment. “Lord Eckington’s daughter,” he said. “Catalina.She told me.”
Essien frowned. “Shetoldyou?” he said. “You did not recognize her? For if you were wearing the cross when you were injured, as you told Lance, then that would make you Alfred de Barenton.Areyou Alfred de Barenton?”
The man froze. The interrogation was coming quickly, from angry men. He blinked rapidly as if unable to process the questions he was being asked. They wanted answers he could not give them. His gaze moved to Catalina, standing next to Essien, and she seemed to understand his pain and hesitation. So much was said with his eyes that his lips could not convey.
Catalina did understand, in fact.
She knew the truth.
