Devil's Dominion (41 page)

Allaston.

As the family before him hugged and wept softly, Bretton knew what he had to do. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy such purity, such unbridled emotion. It was so very rare and he hadn’t the right to destroy it no matter how envious he was of it. No matter if that old knight, one of de Velt’s original knights, had taken it from him. Allaston had been right in so many ways. Killing her father, or any of her father’s original knights, wouldn’t bring his family back again. It wouldn’t even make him happy again. It would just be more deaths in a long line of many, deaths that would never bring fulfillment to anyone. With that stark realization, as the pieces of his heart scattered to the wind, never to be reclaimed, he cleared his throat softly.

“You will all listen to me and listen well,” he said. “You will remain in this kitchen. If I see one of you outside of it, even in the kitchen yard, I will kill the lot of you. Is that clear?”

The younger knight, the father, still clutching his wife, nodded. “It is, my lord,” he said in a beautiful, deep voice.

Bretton eyed the man. He felt such envy for what he had. Something Bretton now realized he would never have.

“Stay hidden and stay low,” he said. “I will close the door to the kitchen but there may be soldiers who enter, looking for valuables. That being the case, you must stay hidden. When night comes, I will come for you, but until then, remain out of sight. If you do not, your lives will be at risk. Do you understand what I have told you?”

The younger knight nodded again. “Aye, my lord,” he said. “We will hide ourselves.”

Bretton nodded shortly but he didn’t say another word. He couldn’t. He was all broken up inside. Leaving the kitchen structure, he returned to the bailey where his men were impaling what was left of de Gault’s army. An army of the dead and dying once again rose outside the walls of Comen Castle as it did twenty-five years ago when de Velt had done the same thing. When Bretton was finished supervising that madness, he had his men settle down in the bailey into individual groups with a cooking fire between them, cooking their booty of stolen chickens and other ill-gotten food stuffs. It was Bretton’s way of avoiding anyone using the kitchen where the old knight and his family were hiding out.

His men drank and ate into the night while Comen’s army, on spikes outside of the walls, groaned and gasped into the darkness, men dying out like lights being snuffed, lives dimming one by one. Bretton remained with his commanders around a fire of their own, eating and drinking as if all was well between them again, with no mention of Allaston or the troubles they had experienced because of her. Talk was on their next target, Erwood Castle, and Bretton assured them that they would march on Erwood once Comen was secured.

Bretton decided that Grayton should remain at Comen to oversee the rebuild, and Grayton was more than happy to comply because Comen was a truly big and rich castle. With Grayton appeased, Bretton could think a bit more clearly. His thoughts were on the family in the kitchens, hiding out, waiting for his return, until Grayton brought up the subject of the fate of the commander of Comen and his family.

Bretton looked at Grayton, realizing he was going to have to lie to the man. In order to show mercy, he was going to have to be underhanded about it unless he wanted real trouble on his hands. It seemed rather ironic that in order to do something good, he had to do something bad.

“I am sure you all saw the older knight that we captured,” he said, looking at all three commanders as he spoke. “He was, in fact, an original knight of Jax de Velt and he was present when Four Crosses Castle was sieged. He more than likely had a hand in killing my father, so I consider his capture a stunning stroke of luck. Therefore, I am keeping the family alive until I decide what to do with them. My first thought is to kill the family and leave the old knight alive to watch, but I am mulling over other opportunities as well.”

“Such as?” Grayton wanted to know.

Bretton looked at the man, seeing suspicion in his eyes. It infuriated him and he struggled not to show it. It also disappointed him because he had always considered Grayton his closest friend and colleague. It was evident that things had changed with the introduction of Allaston. Bretton wondered if things would ever been the same again.

“Very well, Grayton,” he said snappishly. “Let me ask you what
you
would do to them? Keep in mind that the older knight had a hand in killing my father. What would you do to the lot of them to exact your revenge?”

With the focus turn on Grayton, the drunk knight tried to think clearly. “I suppose I would make the old man watch as we kill his family,” he said. “Make him feel what he made you feel, Bretton. Make the man watch while you put his family on spikes.”

Bretton eyed Grayton steadily. “I have thought of that,” he replied. “But I have thought of something else, too – putting all of them to death together. Having the old knight’s last memories be those of sorrow and grief, knowing he could not save his family because he, too, was dying. I have them in the kitchen right now, in fact. I am thinking of simply burning it over their heads and letting that be the end of it.”

Grayton liked that idea, as did Dallan. Teague didn’t give an indication either way. “Why would you not want the old knight to feel the pain your father felt?” Teague asked. “Put the man on a spike and let him rot there. Let him feel what your father felt in his last moments.”

Bretton turned his gaze to the fire, snapping softly in front of him. “Because there is not enough pain in that death,” he said quietly. “Burning of the flesh… there is extreme pain in that, mayhap even enough pain to ease some of my vengeance. I would want the man to suffer more than my father did, whatever death I choose for him.”

It made sense to the commanders and they were very pleased to see that Bretton’s sense of vengeance was still intact. They had feared, over the weeks, that Lady Allaston had somehow taken the edge off of it with her pleading. They were comforted to see that it was very much alive, that hatred that fed every move Bretton made.

It was mostly small talk after that, speaking on Erwood Castle and, the ultimate prize, Four Crosses Castle. Bretton sat with his men well into the night, telling stories and drinking, until Grayton and Teague finally fell asleep and he was only left with Dallan. The big Irish knight wandered over to the destroyed gatehouse, drunk, and Bretton didn’t see him after that.

So he left the fire, wandering among several other fires where his men were either still drinking or had fallen asleep after a most strenuous day. He made his way around Comen’s big keep to the kitchen yard in the back, near the stables, and he noticed as he moved into the yard that there were six soldiers stationed at the destroyed postern gate. That awareness made him shift course and he headed to the postern gate instead.

He sent all six soldiers away from the gate under orders to search the keep and see if they could find any bedding that the men in the bailey could use. He also told them they could keep anything of value they came across since the keep hadn’t been fully looted yet, which thrilled the guards and they readily did his bidding. They were also under instructions to return to him once they’d raided the keep, which they agreed to. When the six disappeared into the keep, Bretton made a break for the kitchen structure.

He found the old knight, the father, and the mother awake, each one of them holding a sleeping child. Indicating for them to remain silent, Bretton freed them from the kitchen and led them out into the dark night and to the postern gate, where he told them to flee and never return. He also told them that if they informed anyone of Bretton’s merciful gesture, that he would hunt them down and kill them, so it was best for them to keep their mouths shut on how they truly escaped Comen.

The mother and father were the first ones through the postern gate, down the narrow path that led to a wooded area below, but the old knight, holding his youngest granddaughter, was the last to go. He held Bretton’s gaze a moment, wondering why this conqueror, this killer, had spared his life, especially given that the old man had been with Jax de Velt during his campaign of terror. Old Ares was going to ask for the reasons behind the show of mercy but decided better of it. He simply thanked Bretton and fled after his son and daughter-in-law, down the shadowed path and into the darkness that signaled freedom. They didn’t have any weapons, money, food, or clothing, but they were alive and free, and that was all that mattered. Bretton stood there and watched them go, wondering if he had done the right thing. There was an odd lightness in his heart that told him he had.

I would ask you to show mercy.
In his own way, he had.

An hour later, when the six soldiers returned from raiding the keep, Bretton ordered them all into the kitchen structure, which he then closed and locked from the outside with an iron fire prong wedged against the door latch, preventing it from being opened. He then proceeded to burn the kitchen down with the six inside so that, in the morning, well after the hot cinders had reduced bone and flesh to mostly ash, all anyone was able to find of those who had been in the kitchen were small pieces of bone and teeth, and portions of six charred skulls.

It was enough to convince the commanders, and anyone else, that Bretton had burned the commander of Comen alive along with his aged father, one of de Velt’s original knights, the commander’s wife, and their three daughters. No one was the wiser to the truth, and no one would ever know the mercy Bretton showed that night.

Except for Allaston. Bretton meant that she should know.

℘

It was early morning at Comen Castle and the stench of smoke and burning bodies hung heavy in the moist morning air. It was just before sunrise when the sky was turning shades of dark blue and pink, and Bretton’s men were up and moving, preparing to return to Cloryn. Bretton himself hadn’t slept all night and was back in the kitchen yard, watching the kitchen smolder in ruins, leaving his commanders in the bailey to organize the men. Word had gotten around that he had burned one of de Velt’s knights in the kitchen blaze, so everyone assumed he was reconciling the death against his sense of vengeance. He was rightly lingering over a personal victory.

Grayton had already agreed to remain behind at Comen to oversee the rebuild, leaving Teague and Dallan to return with Bretton back to Cloryn. The four commanders would then be down to two, and those two would be taking charge of future castles on Bretton’s list of conquest. Still, all three had suffered through the strained relationship with Bretton as of late and Olivier, having been at Rhayder Castle since it had been taken over by Bretton, had not been aware of the fact that there was increasing distance between Bretton and his commanders. Therefore, the two that were remaining were the ones to deal with Bretton’s distraction with Lady Allaston.

She was the reason for the separation, the reason why the men weren’t entirely close with Bretton any longer. They had tried to reason with him about her, but it was clear the man was obsessed. Whether it was because she was de Velt’s daughter, or because he was simply infatuated with her, no one seemed to know. All they knew was that she seemed to have more power over him than they did, and no one liked that. Least of all Grayton.

As Bretton pondered over the smoldering kitchen, Grayton gathered Teague and Dallan. It was time for the three of them to discuss the future as they saw it, the future that Bretton had promised them. Even though they had conquered Comen Castle, as Bretton had promised, the future was uncertain. Mostly, to Grayton, it was not as he had envisioned.

In the burnt hall of Comen, the three commanders gathered. Amid the smoldering ruins and rubble, they remained out of sight as the men outside prepared to depart. Grayton backed Teague and Dallan into a corner, away from prying eyes and ears.

“You two are heading back to Cloryn Castle today,” Grayton said, his voice low. “I must remain here to see to the rebuild, which means I will not be able to keep an eye on Bretton. That is something you both must do. I fear… I fear that Bretton has lost his direction in all of this. I fear that we are on the verge of a change that none of us will appreciate.”

Dallan’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” he wanted to know. “Bretton has not lost his focus. He has done everything he said he would and we have the riches to prove it. You have been sour since the day de Velt’s daughter smacked Bretton over the skull, Grayton. Now you are being a doomsayer to things that do not exist.”

Grayton’s lips tightened into a flat, angry line. “I am closer to Bretton than anyone and I am telling you that the man is verging on a change,” he insisted. “I can see it in his manner, especially when he gets around that de Velt woman. She changes him. We have all seen it. She even convinced him to take down the impaled bodies at Cloryn and burn them. He told us that he intended to leave those bodies up for six months, yet she asked him to take them down and he did!”

That was an undeniable fact that had the commanders perplexed since it had happened, but Dallan eventually shook his head.

“It means nothing,” he insisted. “The stench was so bad that it was affecting everyone’s appetite. He took them down for that reason.”

“He took them down because she begged him to!” Grayton fired back. “But it will not end there, nay. I fear that she will convince him to go back on everything he has promised us. Do you not understand? That woman has bewitched him!”