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Authors: Kathryn le Veque

Medieval Master Warlords (12 page)

BOOK: Medieval Master Warlords
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The dual-colored eyes glared but he wasn’t doing a very good job of intimidating her. “Or course it is not.”

“Then you may leave your broadsword behind and still have ample weapons to protect yourself.”

He put his enormous hands on his hips. “I am not leaving my broadsword behind.” He looked around, spying what looked like a tavern tucked back behind another building; there was a crude sign carved over head in the shape of a barrel. “I would suspect an inn would be the best place to find your laborers. It looks like one over there.”

He was indicating for them to move towards it. But Kellington held fast. Jax took a few steps, noticed she did not move, and looked to her queerly.

“What is wrong?” he asked.

She lifted a stubborn eyebrow. “I am not going anywhere until you leave that weapon back on your charger.” She looked around at Amadeo and the other three soldiers; they were armed to the teeth. “All of you. Go put your weapons back on your horses.  Threats and intimidation will not be the order of the day. We are here to hire workers, not abduct slaves.”

She looked at Jax as if daring him to challenge her. He glared at her a moment longer before swearing softly under his breath.  With angry, jerky movements, he unstrapped his scabbard and ripped the bindings off his legs, tossing it to the nearest soldier.  The man had fast reflexes and caught the weapon.  Amadeo and the others were already removing their long blades.  As one soldier went on the run with his arms full of weapons back to the retreating escort, Jax turned to Kellington.

“Now,” he fumed, struggling to maintain his control. “Are you satisfied? Now may we go?”

She smiled sweetly at him, her dimple deep. “Thank you, my pet,” she said quietly.  “Aye, we may go.”

All of his anger fled. 
My pet.
She had called him something so simple, so sweet, and so unexpected that it blew the fury from him like the flame blowing from a candle.  Aye, she had only said it because he had submitted to her will. But at the moment, he didn’t care.  He’d never in his life felt such a thrill as he had when that small, simple word spilled from her lips.  It was absolutely idiotic. But he couldn’t help it. For the first time in his life, it made him feel as if he belonged. It made him feel wanted.

He shook his head at her, weakly, as he took her elbow. “You are maddening.”

She was still grinning at him. “I know.”

An exasperated expression crossed his face but it was without force. “God’s Blood,” he muttered. “When I got it into my head to take Pelinom those months ago, I should have stayed well away. I would have been doing myself a favor.”

She looked at him, the smile fading from her lips. That statement had a myriad of meanings to it.  So many people would still be alive. Pelinom would still be a place of peace.  But she would have never met this monster of a man who was so far showing he had a human side that was surprisingly deep.  As much as she wished all of those people were still alive, she realized that she was not sorry she had come to know Jax de Velt.  An odd sense of guilt swept her.

“Do you really think so?” she asked.

He cast her a side-long glance. “Nay,” he replied softly, resignation in his tone. “In truth, I will probably curse myself for the rest of my life for not having taken the fortress sooner.  I would have met you sooner.”

She lifted an eyebrow.  “Is that how men of your sort normally meet women? By laying siege to their homes?”

His eyes narrowed. “I doubt I would have met you any other way. You and I do not travel in the same social circles.”

They came to a big trench of mud.  Kellington lifted her skirt to pick her way through it, but Jax swung her into his arms and marched through the muck.  Only when they were well clear did he set her down.  He took her arm again.

“Jax,” Kellington shifted her grip so that she ended up holding onto his elbow. “May I ask you a question?”

“God, what now?” he groaned.

She struggled not to grin. It was a serious question. “Do you plan to lay siege to any more fortresses? Or was Pelinom your last?”

His humor faded as he looked down at her. “That is my business, lady.”

“I know,” she replied honestly. “But I have an opinion on it.”

“No doubt you do.”

She met his gaze. “I do not want you to lay siege to any more castles,” she said with some bravery, knowing it was ridiculous to make the statement but doing it all the same. “And I have a reason for this, too.”

His expression went to stone. “I would suspect you are going to tell me what it is.”

They were nearly to the inn and she wanted to say her peace before they arrived.   She spoke quickly, quietly, and as humbly as she could. “If my father agrees to the marriage and I am not saying he will, but if he does, we can live at Pelinom quite comfortably,” she lowered her voice so that Amadeo and the escort would not hear her words. “You said yourself that you already have six castles long the Welsh border that surely must be making you wildly rich, and you also said that de Vesci gave you a castle, so it my estimation, you have more wealth than you can ever spend. You don’t need any more castles. And no one else needs to lose their life anymore, including you. You’re not invulnerable, you know.”

They had reached the inn.  Jax did nothing more than open the door for her and Kellington didn’t press him for response.  She knew he would more than likely not give her one.  But she had said what was on her mind and was not sorry for it.

The tavern was crammed with people who had fled inside to escape Jax de Velt.  At the sight of him entering the establishment, half of the people bolted to their feet and prepared to dash for the rear entrance.  Jax saw what was about to happen and grabbed the nearest chair, tossing it against the wall behind him so hard that the impact shook the entire building.  Everyone who was preparing to run froze in their tracks.

“Stop!” Jax roared. “I have not come to destroy the place so take your seats, all of you.”

As he spoke, he and his men walked into the room, throwing men back into their chairs and scaring a couple of women into tears.  Kellington stood by the door, her eyes wide and her box and parchment clutched against her chest.   When Jax finished tossing a couple of more men back into their chairs, he turned to her and held out a hand.

“My lady?” he said, looking an odd sight standing in the middle of a room full of terrified people. “Say your peace and get on with it.”

Kellington swallowed as all eyes turned to her.  She could feel the terror filling the room. But she took a deep breath and steadied herself.

“I am Kellington Coleby of Pelinom Castle,” she said.  “I need men to work an upcoming harvest and am prepared to pay a pence a day for this work. It should take no more than four days if I can have at least fifty men sign on.”

No one stirred.  They were still terrified, shifting nervous eyes to Jax and his men, now feathered around the hall in strategic places. They were like wolves waiting to pounce.  Kellington was hoping someone would step up because she was afraid of what Jax would do if no one moved.  Spying a nearby table, she sat down and opened her box.  Neatly setting out her quill and ink, she carefully unrolled the parchment in preparation for writing names and having men sign their marks. 

“It is a good wage I offer,” she looked to the men closest to her. “Will you not sign your mark, sir?”

The four men she was singling out were pale with apprehension.  One man finally spoke.

“We are just passing through this town, my lady,” he said. “I have my own farm near York.  I must get home.”

“You are going to get home four days late,” Jax kicked the man’s chair and sent him sprawling. “Sign your mark on her parchment. That is not a request.”

“Jax,” Kellington said softly, shaking her head reproachfully.  Then she lifted her voice again. “I can use women, too.  It is a very good wage for four days work.”

The man Jax had unceremoniously dumped from his chair picked himself up, brushing off his knees.  He eyed Jax warily before looking to his companions at the table. It was evident that they were silently discussing what they should do.  As Kellington looked hopefully around the tavern, Jax suddenly kicked over a table and splintered it.

“If you do not want me to burn this tavern over your heads, then you will all stand up and sign the lady’s parchment,” he boomed. “If anyone is still seated by the time I finish my directive, then I will personally use them as kindling.”

Everyone in the room shot to their feet, stampeding their way towards Kellington. It was a herd of frightened animals. She shrieked as men jostled too close, unsettling the table and spilling her ink.  The drops ended up on her skirt and she gasped with great disappointment.

“Oh, no,” she stood up with big black splotches on her gown. “It’s ruined!”

Jax was on her in a minute. “Who did this?” he demanded. “Point him out to me.”

She looked up at him, her face red with frustration.  Then she pointed right at him.

“You did this.”

“What?”

“If you hadn’t threatened these people, then they would not have panicked.”

His jaw ticked dangerously; he did nothing more than eye the gown and turn his back on her.

“Make a neat line,” he began to walk back along the crowd of frightened people. “No pushing. You shall all be able to make your mark in good time.”

Kellington sighed heavily, watching him treat the patrons like a herd of cattle, before settling back down and reclaiming what was left of her ink.  The first man she signed up was shaking so badly that his “X” looked like two wriggly lines.

And so it went into the morning.  In little time, Kellington had forty six men and fifteen women signed to labor in the harvest. Their instructions were to arrive at Pelinom in two days and she promised them that they would be paid in full at the end of the harvest. 

By the time she finished signing up the last woman, the place was empty.  Jax stood several feet away, watching her like a hawk, as Amadeo covered the front door and the two remaining soldiers covered the rear entrance.  When the ink on her parchment was properly sanded, he approached the table.

“Is all satisfactory?” he asked.

She nodded, carefully closing the lid on her box. “I believe so.  We have more people than I hoped for.”

He watched her lovely hands seal up the parchment. “Are you hungry?”

She blinked in thought. “I suppose so. Do they have anything to eat in this place?”

He was already turning for the bar back. “We shall soon find out.”

“Jax,” she called in a tone that made him stop.  When he looked at her, she lifted her eyebrows at him. “Nicely, please. People respond quite favorably if you are polite.”

He exhaled sharply; she saw it. But she smiled sweetly and all of the bluster went out him. He winked at her as he turned once again for the bar.             

The innkeeper was a fat man with a red face and thick legs.  He and his wife were in a panic with Jax’s request no matter how politely he asked, which wasn’t terribly considering he had never been polite in his life. But it was his first try at it.  Leaving the soldiers posted at either door, he and Amadeo sat down with Kellington and enjoyed boiled apples and a huge slab of pork.  The innkeeper served the men ale but Kellington didn’t like ale, so the man offered her boiled water with rose petals and cranberries.  Happy with her drink and stuffed with the food, she sat back in her chair as Jax and Amadeo finished off what was left of the pig.

Jax licked off his fingers, his gaze moving over her. In fact, he’d done nothing but stare at her throughout the entire meal.  His eyes kept being drawn to the big black stains on her gown.

“We should find someone to repair your gown,” he said, pointing to the mess. “Perhaps there is a seamstress in town.”

Kellington fingered the blotches. “This is beyond repair. I will have to dispose of it.”

“Then we should buy you material for a new garment to replace it while we are here.”

Kellington was never one to turn down the opportunity to shop; such occasions were few and far between.  She agreed and the three of them, followed by the two soldiers, quit the inn and made their way onto the main avenue.   By this time, the merchants had reopened their shops and children once again played in the street. 

Kellington was prepared for all that to change when Jax appeared, but to her surprise, everything remained busy and open.  She looked around at the vendors and stalls.

“Words must have made the rounds that you are not here to destroy the town,” she said, taking Jax’s arm as they walked. “People seem in a better mood than they did earlier.”

He grunted, feeling vastly uncomfortable; he had no charger, no broadsword, and his mission in the town was not one of destruction. It was a disorienting sensation, but with Kellington on his arm, it was also a surprisingly satisfying one.

“Stupid sheep, all of them,” he growled.

She had to laugh at him; he was so dour that he was funny.  But she sobered as they moved down the street.

“Jax?”

“What is it?”

“I am sorry I spoke so rudely to you earlier,” she said quietly, looking up at him. “You may as well know I have a bit of a temper. I can snap at times.”

BOOK: Medieval Master Warlords
11.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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