De Wolfe Pack 05 - Walls of Babylon (4 page)

Her head snapped up. "What does that mean -
dealt
with?"

His face was like stone. "Exactly that,” he said. “I've no use for a pampered lady about the place. Babylon will be a military installation from this day forward."

He had succeeded in stirring her indignation. "Allow me to put your mind at ease, Sir Kenton,” she said sternly. “I am not, as you put it, a pampered lady. I am a functional part of this house and hold and run it quite efficiently."

Kenton didn't doubt for one second that she was not as capable as she said she was. He sensed a strength in her that set her apart from other noble women he had known and it was oddly intriguing. But he had a decision to make, strength or no.

"I'll harbor no nursery here with miniature ruffians running about," he said. "Your children have no place here."

"They were born here. They have more right to be here than you do."

Over her left shoulder, Kenton could see Conor fighting off a smile. Gerik and Ackerley stood well off to the side, shocked that the lady prisoner should speak to their liege so. Kenton sighed softly and crooked a finger at her, beckoning her towards him. Wary but unwilling to disobey, Nicola moved forward, stopped, then kept walking when he motioned her closer. She brushed up against his massive thigh when he finally stopped beckoning. Inches from him, she could feel his hot breath in her face and it was wildly intimidating and strangely curious all at the same time.

"Madam," Kenton's voice was low and quiet, "I have battled the most powerful armies this world has to offer and I have no intention of fighting with the likes of you. I will tell you this one time only; you will cease this insolence or I will toss you and your children in the vault and throw away the key. Is that, in any way, unclear?"

She struggled between fear and indignation. "Forgive me if I have been insolent, my lord," she said. "But I would like to know when the truth has been considered insolent."

"You're doing it right now."

"Am I? I was not aware."

He gazed into her pale green eyes, again feeling that strange tingle in his chest, only this time it was a warm, tightening sensation. It was not unpleasant but he thought perhaps he was becoming ill. The sensation unnerved him.

"You are, indeed, aware," he growled. "And this type of behavior will cease."

His tone was enough to make her back down. "As you say, my lord."

He stared at her, trying to discern if she was lying. He read nothing but fortitude and truth in her eyes. He almost read a challenge. Unbalanced, his jaw began to flex in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

"You and your brood will keep to the apartments until I decide what's to be done with you. Under no circumstances will I see your children in the great hall or anywhere outside of the keep. If I catch one of them, he shall be mine."

"For what purpose?"

He couldn't believe she was being combative after what he had just told her. "How's that?"

She was quite serious. "I asked you for what purpose, my lord,” she repeated. “If you catch one of my boys, what will you do with him? Surely you don't intend to make use of him in the midst of your mighty military installation."

He just stared at her in amazement. He swore he could see a twinkle of sarcasm in her eye and it nearly drove him mad. The woman was
toying
with him. He knew he had to tend to her attitude here and now, or all would be lost.

"Throw her in the vault," he commanded.

The twinkle fled from Nicola's eye. Conor came up and grasped her by the arm, tugging her back towards the door to the kitchens.

Kenton couldn't even watch the expression on her face as she was taken away; he was far too angry, but he realized he was very close to immediately countering the order. He had done it purely from spite.

He heard the door to the kitchens slam and that strange tug in his chest started again.

Babylon’s keep

He couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t surprising given the events of the day. Much had happened and there was still much to do but, try as he might, thoughts of the stubborn and willful Lady Nicola kept filling his mind.

His knights had split up the night watch, leaving him to conduct his own business, which was good considering how much trouble he was having concentrating on anything other than that blond slip of a woman he had tossed into the vault. It was odd, truly, because Kenton was a professional soldier, meaning he had no family or wife or even a home of his own. He was Warwick’s attack dog and he’d been doing it for over ten years, taking his crack squad of nearly one thousand men and doing Warwick’s dirty work. He’d had more than his share of victories and perhaps one or two failures in all that time. His record as an aggressive warrior was excellent and Warwick had rewarded him well for his skills. He was quite wealthy. But when it came to women, he was relatively untried. He simply tried to steer clear of them. He’d seen too many good men fall to their seductive ways.

Therefore, a beautiful, fiery widow was something of a mystery and an object of intimidation to him; there, he’d admitted it. Lady Nicola was intimidating. Whenever the woman entered his orbit, he felt strange, as if she were weaving some magic upon him. He didn’t like it. Or perhaps he did. He hadn’t decided yet because he was so unaccustomed to such things.

But as he walked the dark, smaller hall of the entry level of the keep, there was something bothering him even more than Lady Thorne and the web of spells she cast over him, something that had been on his mind since they’d breached the great walls of Babylon. All thoughts of the lovely temptress aside, it was clear from the condition of Gaylord’s body that the man had been dead for months, which brought about a very valid question – if Gaylord Thorne had been dead for months, then
who
had led the defenses against him?

Aye, it was thoughts of Babylon’s defenses that weighed heavily upon him at the moment. When they’d swept the castle earlier in the day, they had come across old soldiers mostly and two old knights. Kenton assumed that one of the knights had been in charge but one of them seemed to be unable to speak intelligibly and the other one seemed apathetic to the entire situation. It had been very odd. In fact, this entire place, the massive structure of enormous walls and soaring keep, was odd. . There was something unsettling about the place, like it had secrets yet untold. Kenton wondered if he would ever discover them.

So he pondered his thoughts as he walked the dark level of the keep. The servants had vanished for the night and all he could hear was an occasional shout outside from one of his soldiers, men who had Babylon bottled up tightly for the night. The darkened hall had long, slender lancet windows for ventilation and sounds from the night outside drifted inside. The hall, located on the second-floor entry level, took up about half of the floor. It was two-stories tall and cut up into the third floor above, with a minstrel gallery that was accessed from the third floor.

He hadn’t yet made it up to the third and fourth floors, the family sleeping rooms, mostly because he had been busy taking inventory of the wealth of what appeared to be Gaylord’s solar but also two smaller rooms that were evidently for Lady Thorne’s use because there were all manner of sewing and weaving looms in both of them. There was plate on the hearth of all three chambers, a box of coins in the larger solar, and a variety of possessions that included fine quills, elaborate ink wells, parchment for writing, various cups and chalices made from fine metals, and there were even several exquisite books that Kenton had come across.

There were also a variety of smaller closets, small windowless rooms where the servants stored things, but he hadn’t paid much attention to those smaller closets yet. He was rather surprised to see them, for most keeps didn’t possess such built-in storage, but Babylon evidently did. He was rather curious to get a look at what was inside the cubbies he had located.

Thinking on heading back to the large solar to get a closer look at the wealth he had acquired, Kenton passed into the entry hall with the stairs that led to the upper floors. The staircase was a big, supported structure that hugged one wall, following the line of the wall down until it came to a ninety-degree corner and then following the line of that wall until it reached the bottom. It was supported by big stone pillars that continued all the way up to the ceiling, as if caging in the staircase, and was quite an impressive architectural feat. Kenton had never seen another flight of stairs like it. As he moved out into the entry room to take another look at the big, sweeping staircase, he thought he caught a glimpse of movement near the top of the stairs.

It was dark in the entry save the silver moonbeams that poured in through two lancet windows above the arched entry door. It wasn’t enough light to see clearly but was enough to illuminate movement. Hand to the hilt of the dirk that was sheathed at his belt, he slipped underneath he staircase and silently made his way to the bottom of the steps, unseen by whoever was at the top of the flight. If it was a Thorne assassin, he planned to make short work out of him.

He was prepared.

He’d quickly gone into stalking mode. His natural resting state was one of defense, anyway, but an unknown entity in his proximity was cause for alarm. In silence, he made his way to the base of the stairs, peering up into the darkened staircase to see if he could make anything out – friend or foe. He took the first two steps, not making a sound, and it was another eight steps before the landing where the staircase took a sharp right turn and continued up to the third floor above.

Kenton had learned long ago to remain calm in situations such as this. His heart rate had barely increased and his breathing was still quite steady, all signs of a man who had faced death before and knew how to survive it. Chances are, he thought, the assassin was a servant who had no idea that he was the one now being stalked. The tables were turned.

Kenton’s grip tightened on his dirk, preparing to withdraw it and plant it squarely in whoever was lurking about in the darkness. Body tightly coiled, ready to spring, he reached the landing of the stairs only to be confronted with something crouching against the stone stair railing just as he turned the corner.

“Argggh!”

It was a very small person with some kind of coverlet over its head, now jumping up and clawing the air in his direction. Genuinely startled, Kenton actually took a step back as the small figure, covered with a linen sheet, jumped up and down and continued clawing at the air.

“
Ooooooooo!”

More noise from the figure as it suddenly turned tail and ran back up the stairs as fast as its little legs would carry it. Kenton stood on the landing, frowning, as the figure went to hide behind one of the support pillars. The problem was that there was already a second small person hiding behind that same pillar and the little ghost who had tried to scare him got pushed out. But the little figure scrambled to its feet and chose another pillar to hide behind.

Kenton stood on the landing below and watched all of the hissing and pushing going on. His initial surprise was now tempered with realization and perhaps impatience. With a heavy sigh, he let go of the hilt of his dirk and began to take the stairs, going in hunt of the figures that were lying in wait for him. He was about halfway to the top when another figure, with what looked like a woman’s linen shift over its head, jumped out at him from a pillar on the right.

“Oooooooo!” the figure said threateningly in a very heavy lisp. “I am going to curse you!”

Kenton came to a pause, hands on his hips as he faced his nemesis. “Is that so?” he said rather casually.

“It is!”

“Do as you must.”

That seemed to stump the little figure for a moment; it paused as if confused but quickly took up clawing the air again.

“You are afraid!” it told him in a terrible lisp. “Go away and do not come back or you will be cursed!”

In spite of himself, Kenton found himself fighting off a grin. “I see,” he said, wiping his hand over his mouth to hide the smirk. “Then you may as well curse me for I am not leaving.”

That thoroughly stumped the figure and it came to a halt, turning to look up the staircase and into the shadows as if seeking silent support. It didn’t take long for the walls to come alive with two more small figures, with coverlets over their heads, as they rushed down the steps. One of them even tripped, rolling down a stair or two, before picking itself up and recovering. It rubbed an elbow painfully.

“Go away!” the biggest of the trio pointed imperiously at Kenton. “You are not wanted here! Go away or you will be sorry!”

Kenton recognized the voice as that of Lady Thorne’s eldest son. It was the same commanding tone the lad had used when he had ordered Kenton to leave his mother alone earlier in the day. With no more patience for their foolery, Kenton reached out and yanked the pale covering off of the lad’s head.

Hair mussed, Tab glared up at Kenton with as much courage as a five-year-old boy could muster. In truth, the lad was beyond courageous, showing no fear in the face of his conquerors. Kenton had to admit that the boy’s bravery impressed him. He was foolish, but brave nonetheless. Kenton held up the dusty, white coverlet.

“What are you doing with this?” he asked drolly.

Tab was scowling fiercely. “We were scaring you away!”

Kenton cocked an eyebrow. “Scaring me?”

Standing next to him, Teague pulled the woman’s shift off his head and reached out, tugging on the hem of Kenton’s tunic until Kenton looked down at him.

“We are ghosts,” he said with his pronounced lisp. “Were you not afraid?”

He was quite serious and Kenton gazed down at the child, feeling an odd tugging in his chest, something between compassion and humor. For as much as these children were out and about when they should not be, he had to admit that he found it somewhat funny simply because they were dead serious about it.

“Nay,” Kenton told the child flatly. “I do not believe in ghosts. And you were told to stay to your apartments.”

Teague was thoroughly confused. “But everyone is afraid of ghosts.”

“I am not.”

Teague wasn’t sure what to say to that. He looked at Tab, the eldest, for help. Tab was quick to intervene.

“It is our duty to chase you away,” he said. “You are the enemy and we must protect Babylon. Mother does not allow us to fight with real swords so we are going to scare you away instead.”

Kenton realized that, for the second time in as many minutes, he was struggling not to grin. The lad was determined to rid his keep of the enemy; Kenton could see that. But it was also clear that the boy did not understand the concept of a captor/captive relationship and it was up to Kenton to educate him. He’d already thrown their defiant mother in the vault and he wasn’t beyond tossing her children in after her. He sighed faintly.

“Your tactics did not work,” he said. “You will return to your apartments now or I will take my hand to your backside. I suspect your mother has not disciplined you nearly enough, therefore, that lesson will fall to me.”

Teague, standing the closest, tugged on his tunic again until the man looked down at him. “Mam says that it is not very nice to hit,” Teague said.

Kenton’s smile nearly broke through at the innocent comment and he realized that, quite possibly, he would have difficulty carrying out his threat against these lads. They were quite naïve in their view of the world, it seemed, and that was something he didn’t recognize. The world was a hard and dangerous place to him but somehow, within these walls of Babylon, the world was not such a terrible place to these children. Enemies could be chased away by the threat of ghosts and hitting was not a nice thing to do. Was it truly possible there was such innocence left in this world?

“It is also not very nice to disobey my order,” he said, pointing back up the steps. “Return to your rooms. I will not tell you again.”

Teague opened his mouth again, no doubt to tell Kenton that his demands were not very nice, but they were distracted by a rattling sound in the entry down below. Kenton turned towards the sound, back on the defensive, as the three little boys gasped with fear. Tiernan, the silent child, actually latched on to Kenton’s leg and would not let go. Startled, Kenton looked down to see the utter terror on the child’s face.

“Hurry!” Tab suddenly ran at him, grabbing hold of his hand and trying to pull him down. “Get down! We must hide!”

Kenton was preparing to outright refuse when Teague grabbed hold of him, too, and between the three boys, Kenton somehow found himself seated on the cold stone steps. They had managed to drag him down although he couldn’t have shown much resistance if they were so easily able to do it. His reaction puzzled him, allowing children to tug him to the floor. There were gaps in the railing that he could see through to the entry level below and more rattling could be heard, echoing off the old walls of the keep. Before Kenton realized what had happened, he had both twins on his lap and Tab hanging over his shoulder, pointing to the darkness below.

“Look!” he said. “Now the ghost will come. You will see!”

Kenton frowned at Tab, exasperation coming from the usually emotionless knight. “There are no such things as ghosts,” he repeated what he’d said earlier.