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Authors: Kathryn le Veque

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BOOK: Medieval Master Warlords
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His patience was fading. “Is that all you needed to speak with me about?”

She shook her head, taking a few steps towards him until she was directly in front of him. “Nay, it is not.  I’ve been told that one of your men has been taking sport with one of my servants. This must stop. I will not abide this behavior in the least.”

His tolerance was gone.  “What my men do is none of your affair. And do not make demands to me.”

“They are raping my servants!”

He shook his head slowly. “There is nothing unusual about that.”

“Then you condone this behavior?”

He reached out, snatching her by the arms and yanking her against his chest.  His dual-colored eyes bore into her.

“Such are the spoils of war, my lady,” he murmured. “Surely you did not think death and destruction were the only means of compliance and conquest.”

Kellington gazed back at him, her anger turning to fear.  “You are hurting me,” she whispered.

His grip loosened but he did not let go.  In fact, he pulled her closer. “Was there anything else you wished to speak with me about?” he breathed huskily.

She was an inch from his face, knowing the inevitable was about to happen. He was going to kiss her; she could see it in his eyes.  Her heart was thumping loudly against her ribs, knowing she should try everything in her power to break free but lacking the will to do so.  Anger hadn’t worked with him. She chose to try another tactic.

“My lord,” she said softly. “Please tell your men to leave my servants alone. For decency’s sake, I beg you.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “A much better attitude. Since you have asked so politely, I will see what I can do.”

She sighed with relief. “Thank you,” she whispered. “And something else….”

His head was dipping lower, his hot breath on her face. “What is it?”

“The baby… he is truly dead?”

“He is.”

“Did… did it happen by your hand?”

He stopped his advance, looking her in the eye. “Does that matter?”

She nodded unsteadily.  “Why?” he asked.

“Please tell me the truth.”

“It was not by my hand.”

She seemed to go limp with relief. Jax’s massive hand came up, grasping her chin and tilting her head up to receive his kiss.   But she wasn’t finished with him yet.

“Jax?”

“Aye?”

“If I ask something of you, will you do it?”

“That depends.” He swooped on her, suckling her lower lip and tasting her sweetness. “What is it?”

She drew in a sharp breath as he kissed her again, sucking the life from her. “I… I do not want you to kiss me anymore.”

He stopped in mid-suckle, looking at her as if she was mad. There was also a great deal of disappointment in his expression.

“Why not?”

She pulled back from him somewhat, licking her lips, tasting him on her flesh. “Because it is not right,” she said softly. “I am of marriageable age. It will be difficult enough for me to gain any decent prospects as a prisoner of the fearsome Jax de Velt. Already suspicion will be cast upon me, a woman captive under your control. What would a future husband say if he knew I allowed you to kiss me? I should not have let you. It was wrong. It will ruin any chance I have of a good marriage.”

He blinked at her. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

He just stared at her.  The two-colored eyes studied her intently, drifting over her blond hair, her sweet oval face, trailing down her neck.  He was visually devouring every inch of her.   After several long and anxious moments, the hand on her chin tightened.

“I would not be concerned with that.”

She scowled. “Of course I am concerned with that.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “God’s Blood, you are a naïve child. Do you truly believe that all marriages are decent and that all women go to the marriage bed as virgins?”

Furious all over again, she tried to yank herself from his grasp but he held her tight. “I told you that I would not be your whore and I meant it. I’ll kill myself first.”

“And I told you that you will not be my whore. You will be my wife. There is a distinct difference.”

She froze mid-struggle. The golden brown eyes bulged to the point of popping from her skull.  “What?” she managed to blurt.

He stood tall from his position of hovering over her, his hands still on her arms, and kissed her chastely on the forehead.

“I have a hall full of knights expecting me,” he told her. “You will go to your chamber and remain there. These men are brutal and ruthless and I do not want you in their path.  I’d hate to have to kill one of them, as I need all of them.”

She stood there, dumbfounded.  He was finally forced to take her elbow and practically shove her towards the door.  Once they reached the panel, she seemed to snap out of her shock.

“Wife?” she repeated, almost shouting. “I would not marry you if you were the last man on earth. You are a murderer and a thief. I do not want you!”

“But I want you. And that is where this conversation shall end.”

He threw open the door and practically dragged her to the base of the stairs that led to the upper floors. When she refused to mount the steps, he easily lifted her onto the first step and spanked her soundly on the bottom.

“Go,” he ordered softly.

“This is not over,” she growled.  “I will fight you with the last breath in my body against this… this madness.”

“Go or you shall feel my hand to your backside again.”

Rubbing her bum, glaring at him, she disappeared up the stairs.  Jax stood there until she vanished.  He made sure the smile on his lips was gone by the time he went back into the hall.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

“The woman,” Apollo asked casually. “Who is she?”

De Velt’s knights were still awaiting his return.  The food had been brought, the servants scattered, and now they sat in disjointed conversation as they drank the wine and ate the food.  No business could be conducted without de Velt’s presence.  L’Ancresse’s question was on everyone’s mind.

“She is the lady of Pelinom,” Amadeo replied.  “Her father was garrison commander. We sent him back to Foulburn.”

“You did not kill him?”

“Nay.”

Properly informed, L’Ancresse cast some of the other men at the table a long glance. “What is she still doing here?” he asked.

“You’ll have to ask de Velt.”

It was a puzzling situation.  Whenever they commandeered a fortress, the women and children were usually the first thing to go.  Jax had made that one of the primary rules of conquest.  Even now, six castles along the Marches were virtually women-free at de Velt’s order.  But at Pelinom, apparently the rules were changed.

“She must warm his bed,” one of the other generals, Atreus, spoke.  He was an older man, wiser, and had known Jax for most of his life. He was probably one of the few who could get away with speaking his mind. “There is no other alternative.”

“She administers the coffers of Pelinom,” Amadeo replied, smacking his lips to the tart wine. “Beyond that, I can tell you no more.”

“There are seven women here,” Caelen spoke, his mouth full.

That raised a few eyebrows. “Seven?” Atreus repeated incredulously. “Why would de Velt keep seven women here?”

“Because that woman has bewitched him.”

They all looked over at Henley, seated at the end of the table and well into his third cup of wine.  When he saw the attention on him, he looked at Amadeo and gestured with a sharp hand.

“Am I wrong?” he asked Amadeo, the other knights. “She has cast a spell upon him somehow.  His attention is on her when it should be on our next target. She weeps and he folds like an idiot. Do you want to know why there are seven women still here? Because she asked it of him.  She cried and begged him not to do away with her women and, lo and behold, the women were not put away.”

It was shocking news. Amadeo’s guarded glance moved around the table, wondering what the generals were thinking, ashamed and defensive on Jax’s behalf.  But the truth was that he sided with them.

“He is our liege,” Amadeo reminded the group. “He may do as he pleases. If he wants to keep the women around, so be it.  It is not up to us to question him. I, for one, will not.”

“He is breaking the rules he has set forth to the rest of us,” another general named Ares spoke.  He was the most opinionated of the group and risked much with his loud mouth. “He demands we do away with the weak and small at our garrisons yet he does not do the same.”

“He is our liege,” Amadeo reminded him again, louder. “If you would care to question the man as to his reasons, be my guest.”

Ares would not go so far as to question Jax.  Only a fool would do so and he was not completely foolish.  But Henley was now into his fourth cup of wine and his tongue was greatly loosened.

“’Tis the lady who controls Pelinom, not de Velt,” he rumbled. “He would do anything for her.  Why do you think he cut down the enemy knight that was posted at the gatehouse? Because she begged him to.  She begged him to bury the man with the baby he fathered.  And he did it.”

More stunning news; the generals did nothing more than glance uneasily at each other.  Did this woman have so much power over a man they believed to be beyond such wiles?  It was incredible to say the least. But Amadeo felt as if he was making excuses for their liege in front of the others.

“Again I say, if you will be the first to question him about his motives, then by all means do so.”

Henley grumbled. “She’s a witch, I say. And witches must be killed.”

“Touch her and de Velt will have your hide,” Amadeo said pointedly. “She is untouchable.”

“She is a witch,” Henley repeated, draining his cup. “How many fortresses have we seized? How many battles have we faced? De Velt is the Devil himself in battle and smites all who oppose him. He promised us riches beyond our wildest dreams when we set forth to battle on the Scots border.  A garrison for each of us, money in our pockets.  But what has happened instead? He finds a lovely chit at Pelinom and his mind has been destroyed. His will is gone.  And it is all that… that woman’s doing.”

Amadeo was watching the hairy man work himself up into a rage. “If I were you,” he said slowly, “I would curb my tongue. Nothing about Jax de Velt has been destroyed. If he hears you, then you shall find out just how strong he remains.  He will kill you.”

Henley snorted, pouring himself his fifth cup of wine.  “You know I speak the truth, Amadeo,” he slurped. “You have seen how he looks at her.  She weakens him like a disease. If we are to preserve what Jax has promised us, then she must be removed.”

Henley did not see Jax enter the hall, moving in the shadows as he made his way towards his men.  Jax had heard the last few sentences of the conversation, not particularly surprised with the subject but exceedingly enraged. By the time Amadeo and a few of the other generals saw him, it was too late to warn Henley. The man was far gone with his opinion.

“I will do what needs to be done,” Henley pounded his fist against the table. “You will all thank me when you see how right I am.  The woman is a sorceress, bleeding Jax of his resolve. He is not the man who commanded our armies to victory on the Marches. That woman is infecting him, weakening him, and she must be destroyed!”

A shadow as massive as the dead of night slipped up behind Henley.  As the man lurched to his feet, he suddenly stiffened, arching his back, his mouth opening in a silent scream. The shadow behind him loomed into the light as Jax shoved a dirk deep into Henley’s ribcage, angling the blade in an upward motion so that it severed all that was critical in Henley’s chest.

Henley didn’t utter a sound as he crumpled in the throes of death; Jax grabbed him by the hair and tossed him to the ground several feet away.   The knight lay there and bled to death, and Jax did not give him another thought. His focus was on the remaining ten knights around the table; the dual-colored eyes blazed with an unnatural light.

“Is there anyone else who feels as Henley did?” he asked calmly. “Come forth now and make your claim. I will listen.”

Amadeo was still seated, his eyes riveted to Jax.  What had happened to Henley was not shocking; he’d seen it before.  Jax de Velt was, if nothing else, capable of things most men were not.   But now was not the time to provoke him.   He could, quite easily, kill them all and hardly raise a sweat.

“He does not speak for all of us, my lord,” he said steadily. “He was drunk. Men say many things when they are drunk.”

Jax looked at his second in command. “Truth comes with wine.”

Amadeo simply shook his head. “He does not speak for all of us.  But I would be lying if I said there are those of us who wonder why you have kept the women alive when you have never done such a thing before.  Surely you must realize that.”

Jax sheathed the dirk into his mail vest.  “I need not explain my reasons to you.”

“Nay, you do not.”

Jax moved around the table with the grace of a stalking cat.  He was very much in battle mode even though he trusted his generals.  He knew they would not move against him.  Still, he had a strong sense of self-preservation.  He never trusted anyone completely.

“Then let me be plain so there will be no question,” he said, reaching for his own cup of wine. “The lady of Pelinom serves a purpose.  The castle is very rich and she is well-versed in administering the wealth.  Even now she arranges for a harvest that will bring a good deal of wealth into the coffers.  As for the other women, with the male servants either dead or run off, the castle cannot function without their assistance.  They fill valuable roles at this time. That could change tomorrow, a week from now or a month from now.  But at this time, they serve a necessary function. Is that clear?”

Most of the men nodded. Some of them simply looked to their wine or their food.  Jax’s two-colored gaze moved over them with a mixture of suspicion and satisfaction.  He’d had to quell potential rebellions before, but never ones that were the result of a woman.  This was something of a new experience and he found himself far more on the defensive than usual.  Perhaps because just a small part of him knew his men were right.   She did control him.

“I will make one more statement and speak no more of it,” he went on. “What I do with the lady of Pelinom is my affair. It does not involve any of you and it does not affect our plans in any fashion.  We are still planning on taking the border between Berwick to Kelso.  We will do the same thing we did in Wales; garrison the castles, monitor the roads, and control the flow of merchants, goods and others across the border with hefty tolls.  We will confiscate the lands, tax the peasants, and create our own kingdom within this country.  None of this will change regardless of my plans for Lady Kellington. Do you comprehend?”

Most of the men nodded. Everyone but Amadeo.  The generals from the Welsh Border were far less involved in this than he was, or Caelen or Michael, so the explanation was directed mostly at them. 

“Point taken, my lord,” Amadeo said evenly.  “You must understand that men become unstable when things are out of the norm.  We have never known you to give any regard to anything other than your own agenda.  The introduction of things that are not usual within our world are cause for question.”

Amadeo had a way of soothing Jax; it was almost an underhanded manner of controlling the man and his temper.  But Jax was aware of it and knew enough to not give in to the man’s total attempts to manipulate him.  As he regarded the group, Jax decided to be plain with his knights so that there would be no questions regarding the lady.  The rumors were already starting and he knew he needed to stop the progression; rumors could undermine all that he had worked to achieve.  Moreover, he had never held back from his men in the past and saw no reason to hold back now.  The sooner they understand everything, the better for them all.

“You should be aware of something else regarding Lady Kellington,” he said, eyeing each of them.  “I plan to marry the woman.  A man must have heirs and I have decided that she will be the mother of my sons.  She is, therefore, to be given the same respect you show me. More so. Any in fraction against her, however small, will be harshly dealt with.  Make sure your men are aware.”

That statement was met with some shock.  Atreus and Amadeo looked at each other, stunned at the news.

“But…,” Atreus tried to be tactful. “You are a warring man, my old friend. You do not stay in one place long enough for the stability a wife requires and she cannot be a part of this war machine. You have tried this once before and failed. Have you given that any thought?”

Jax looked at his general, perhaps the most treasured of his men. If such a thing was possible, he adored him as one would an older brother.  If anyone else had asked him the question, he would have roared. But coming from Atreus, he took it for what it was worth.

“You will let me worry about that,” he replied. “But know that she does not affect my judgment, my ambition or my thoughts.  I am as you have always known.  I am Ajax de Velt.”

There was nothing more to say to that.  Jax looked at each and every one of his generals, men he had fought beside for many years. They were as hard as stone, powerful and loyal.  In the treacherous world he lived in, that was a rare thing.  With a final glance around the table, he bent over the old vellum map held down by weights against the massive oak table top.

“Now,” he switched to his professional persona, completely disregarding Henley’s cooling corpse a few feet away as Atreus went to grab the man by the wrist and drag him from the hall. “We have already taken mighty Norham Castle from Hugh de Puiset.  Now we have Pelinom. The next castle is White Crag near Kelso and I would take Caerleon as well.  Small a she is, she will make an excellent outpost.  It is my intention to send Amadeo back to Norham once we have managed to secure White Crag to begin the militarization of the Norham.  It is a big castle and vital to my plans. Caelen will take White Crag and Michael will take Caerleon.  Any questions so far?”

“And Pelinom?” Amadeo asked.

Jax lifted his eyebrows. “It was to be Henley’s but those plans have changed. It will be mine for the time being.”

The men around the table were not surprised at that, considering what they had been told. But no one said a word.  Instead, they huddled closer to the table to better hear the plans of conquest from the mind of Ajax de Velt.

 

***

 

Kellington did not see Jax that night or into the next day.  She stayed to her chamber as asked, joined by Matilda and Lavaine, and the three of them spent the time sewing or playing backgammon on a board that Keats Coleby had brought his daughter all the way from Spain.  

In the early evening hours that night, Kellington had told Lavaine about her conversation with Jax with regard to the woman’s husband and son.  Lavaine had shed more painful tears but at least she knew their fate.  As Kellington comforted the woman, she didn’t dare tell her about Jax’s declaration of marriage. She herself was still shocked by it.  She had no idea how Lavaine would react.  The more she thought on the prospect, the more disoriented she became.

BOOK: Medieval Master Warlords
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