Prologue

PROLOGUE

January 1216

Pelinom Castle, Northumberland

T he battle had been raging for nearly two days.

It was one of the most desolate, brutal things Julian de Velt had ever seen. He'd been in battles before, too many times to count, but he'd never had his home attacked as it was now. Pelinom was his family's home. He'd been born there, as had his siblings and even his mother. Certainly, they had trouble with Scots now and again, but those had always been quick or unspectacular raids because no man in his right mind would go after the seat of the most feared warlord in England.

The man known as The Dark Lord.

Except for, perhaps, the King of England himself.

That's where this bombardment came from. John Lackland, as he'd once been known, had been waging a horrific scorched earth campaign against his own warlords, those who were opposed to his rule and had been after more than fifteen years of dealing with a king who had little respect for the men who were sworn to him. Years and years of a king who refused to keep his word to his own vassals, who lied and cheated and swindled his way through his reign. When the warlords, like Jax de Velt, could take no more and refused to fight for John any longer, the king raised an army of mercenaries from the darkest corners of the earth.

Men who had only come to kill for the money it would bring them.

It was their only motivation. John paid them well with ill-gotten funds to kill his enemies and that's exactly what they did. They had no regard for England or her warlords, no respect for the land or the people. They'd moved from Winchester to Nottingham to York, fighting their way northward, before finally descending on Berwick Castle. Berwick was an outpost of the de Velt empire, at least temporarily, and Julian's older brother, Cole, was the garrison commander. But Cole fought valiantly against John's hired army of thugs so they moved off to the west, along the River Tweed, tearing into any castle they came across that wasn't loyal to John.

Northwood.

Wark.

Roxburgh.

And finally, Pelinom.

Northwood, Wark, and Roxburgh held against the onslaught, but not without significant damage. Northwood, in particular, had suffered a great deal, but in the end, John's army moved away, heading for that jewel called Pelinom. If they could take down Pelinom, the line of castles holding the Scots border would break and they very much wanted it to break. John was prepared to move into Scotland, all the way to Edinburgh and the Highlands, but he had to break the border first.

But the warlords held strong.

That only seemed to infuriate him.

Now, on the dawn of the third day, Julian stood at the keep entry, though the doors themselves were bolted and the iron grate, like a portcullis, had long been lowered and secured. Even if John's mercenaries made it into the bailey, there was no way to make it into the keep. The doors behind the grate could be burned, but the grate was too big and too heavy to be moved or destroyed. The nearest windows were slender lancet openings and unless a man was as thin as a reed, there was no way to slip through them.

The keep of Pelinom, containing Julian's mother and sisters, was tightly secured.

But that meant the army had been out in the open, exposed to the projectiles that John's army flung over the walls from time to time. At first, they were bundles of wood, tied together and soaked in oil and then flung over the walls in the hope of catching some structure on fire. All they managed to do was create nice, warm piles of kindling that the de Velt army warmed themselves on.

Then came the human cargo.

Literally, the mercenaries started flinging terrified squires or drunken soldiers over the walls in an attempt to get men on the inside. Pelinom's walls were so incredibly tall, with great crenelations that Jax himself had put all the way around the wall walk, that mounting the walls was a near impossibility. The mercenary army had tried for two days. They were still trying. The men who had come flying over the walls had all been killed either during the endeavor or shortly thereafter. Jax had ordered their bodies slung back over the walls and into Pelinom's substantial moat.

It had both demoralized and enraged the mercenaries.

And everyone knew it.

The smoke was heavy in the air as the sun began to rise, the smell of cooking fires mingled with the heavy, oily smell of burning bodies. It wasn't that anyone in Pelinom was burning bodies, for they'd suffered no casualties, but more that the mercenaries were burning their dead, unable to provide for storage or a place to bury them because the ground was frozen.

It was the beginning of the third day of an increasingly unpleasant standoff.

"Were you able to sleep?"

The question came from behind and Julian turned to see Sir Ashton de Royans approaching. Ashton, or Ash as he was known, was the son of Sir Juston de Royans of Bowes Castle, about one hundred miles to the south. Ashton and his older brother, Tristan, were both at Pelinom these days and had been well before any trouble with the king started. Tristan was actually the bastard child of King HenryII and Alys of France. Juston had taken the boy in and adopted him so the boys were raised together. Ash had always considered Tristan his brother.

While Tristan had luscious auburn hair and a bristly beard, with big, white teeth and a temper to match those sharp looks, Ashton had the enormous blond comeliness of the de Royans men. He was bright, powerful, calm in almost any circumstance, and had a bit of a wicked streak him in that Julian loved.

They'd been best friends for years.

"A little," Julian said, his eyes twinklingly wearily. "One does not sleep much when one's home is being attacked."

Ashton snorted softly. "Attacked," he said with disdain. "The nuns from Kelso could have done a better job of laying siege. Why don't they simply leave us alone? They'll never get in."

Julian flashed a grin, big dimples carving through both cheeks. "There is truth in that," he said, looking up at the battlements that were heavily lined with men. "My father was just saying how weak this entire attack has been but considering how many castles they have bombarded before us, there is little wonder that they have worn down."

Ashton shook his head. "They did not take any of the castles from here to Berwick," he said. "I have a feeling they may have expended all of their energy on Berwick. That fortress is key to holding the north. If John had captured it, he could use the river to bring more troops into the north."

Julian's grin faded. "I know," he said. "We know that Berwick held but not much beyond that."

"Your father has not received any reports?"

"We've been locked tight for the past three days. Nothing has been able to come through."

Ashton could feel Julian's concern. The de Velt family was inordinately close for the most part with the exception of Cassian, the youngest son, who spent his time in the south with the House of de Lohr. Cassian had gone there to foster and had simply never returned. It was well known that a certain de Lohr daughter was holding him there, leaving Cole and Julian to support their father's empire. Truthfully, Cole had his own agenda in life– garrison commander of Berwick, a wife, a family, and also serving William Marshal when the call came, but Julian was solely and exclusively devoted to his father.

He was, in fact, his father's shadow.

Ashton had known Julian for a few years, ever since he was sent north by his father, Juston, to support Pelinom during a time of constant raids from reivers. Ashton had liked the north so much that he'd remained, enjoying Jax and Julian and Cole when he came around. He'd come with his older brother, Tristan, who was even now on the opposite side of the fortress, in the kitchen yard because there was a low, squat, and heavily defended postern gate there, the only possible way John's men could infiltrate if they came across the moat and gained a foothold.

And no one would get in with Tristan at the gate.

In fact, Tristan had made himself indispensable to Jax since nearly his arrival, a bold and courageous man to the core. Julian was technically Jax's second in command, but Tristan was older and more aggressive and, truth be told, experienced. Julian was rather quiet, introverted, quieter still when Tristan began to gain steam. He was still young enough to be offended by forceful older knights, especially ones he saw as trying to take his father's attention away. Deep down, Julian de Velt had a confidence problem and Tristan only made it worse. But Ashton knew something Tristan didn't know.

Julian was smarter, better, and stronger than all of them.

He just needed the opportunity to show it.

"Well," Ashton finally said. "I would not worry. John's mercenaries are too exhausted to do much damage, so I do not imagine today will be much of an issue. I would suspect at some point in the next day or two, when they realize they cannot breach Pelinom, that they will simply move on to the next castle and leave us alone."

Julian's gaze came off of the battlements, focusing on Ashton again. "My father is not so sure," he said. "He does not think that John will give up so easily. He needs a castle from which to launch his attacks into Scotland and Pelinom seems to be his last chance."

Ashton shrugged. "There are others that he can probably take with more ease," he said. "Smaller outposts."

"My father seems to think he wants a larger castle, like Pelinom," Julian said. "It would be a trophy. What a boast it would be for John to tell all of England that he captured The Dark Lord's castle."

Ashton grinned, suggesting such a thing was not possible. "I do not think he would like The Dark Lord's reaction to having his castle taken," he said. "He and his mercenaries might very well find themselves speared on poles and propped up like Christians at a crucifixion. In fact, here comes that terrifying man in the flesh."

He was looking over Julian's shoulder, nodding his head in that direction. Julian turned to see his father approaching from the stables, an enormous knight with a head of shoulder-length dark hair that was dusted heavily with gray these days. He was in full protection, the same protection he'd worn all of these years– heavy mail coat, hauberk, steel braces on his forearms and shins, and the de Velt boar tunic. When he caught sight of Julian and Ashton, he headed in their direction.

"I've had the thatching from the stables' roof removed," he said, fussing with the fasten of a glove that had come loose. "In fact, I've had all of the thatching and hay put into the niches in the outer wall to protect them in case we have any more flaming projectiles or men tossed over the wall at us."

Julian couldn't quite see the stables from where he stood, but he craned his neck to get a peek at what his father was talking about. "I could have done that," he said. "You should not have to bother."

"It was no bother."

Julian cocked a dark blond eyebrow. "This is how the chain of command works, Papa," he said seriously. "You command and I obey. Give me an order and I shall do it. You do not need to handle menial tasks like that. This is why you have a thousand men at your disposal."

Jax chuckled as he looked at his middle son. Julian had his handsome features, but his blond coloring was purely his mother's. "Is that why I have you?" he quipped. "Truly, Julian, I had no idea."

Julian's grin returned, now at his father. "At least let us earn our pay, Papa," he said. "Otherwise, we will all grow fat and lazy like John and his mercenaries."

Jax snorted, eyeing the battlements where the men were stationed. "I would not discount John and his mercenaries too easily," he said. "You are speaking of a Plantagenet, a man who fought against his father and brothers, at any given time, from a very young age. John may be many things but, in battle, he is no fool. Do not underestimate him."

Julian found himself looking at the battlements also. "He has had two days to breach our walls," he said. "Two days of attempts. The best he could do was try to sling men over the walls. I think that is a sign of his desperation."

"Or his genius," Jax said, looking at him. "The worst thing you can do in battle is underestimate any opponent, Julian. Do not let your confidence be your downfall."

Julian smiled weakly, averting his gaze. "No one could ever accuse me of that," he said. "I do not profess to have your experience, but I am not a novice."

"Nay, you are not, but you must listen to me when I tell you not to misjudge the king."

"My lord!" Men were shouting at Jax from the battlements. "A party approaches the drawbridge!"

That was a distinct surprise. Curiously, Jax and Julian and Ashton made their way to the enormous gatehouse of Pelinom, the one structure that was truly standing between them and annihilation. The gatehouse had two iron portcullises, which utterly demoralized any army attempting to breach it. Not only did they have to get through one, but they had to get through a second one to make headway into the bailey.

In fact, Jax acquired Pelinom in a siege thirty years earlier and there had only been one portcullis at the time, one he had been able to destroy. He was the one who added the second portcullis for just that reason. As he stood there with his son and knight, watching through both grates as the sun began to rise, they could see a small party of riders approaching.

Tension was immediately in the air.

The drawbridge had been burned away the first day of the siege because the mechanism raising it had jammed and they'd been unable to lift it. Therefore, Jax had ordered it doused with oil and burned, and it had mostly burned away. Chunks of it still smoldered, filling his vision, as he watched the party approach the moat but stop just shy of it. He found it interesting that they were in the range of his archers, making him doubly curious about their purpose.

"I come on behalf of the king!" someone shouted in a heavy accent. "We seek Ajax de Velt!"

Jax's eyes narrowed as he realized it wasn't a native Englishman speaking. Undoubtedly, it was a mercenary.

"I have no need to hear anything from you or the king," he said. "However, you will listen to me and listen well. I have over a thousand men in this castle who are begging to rush forth and put your entire army on poles and leave you to die. You know my reputation and you know this is not an idle threat, so I suggest you depart today or face my wrath."

The men on horseback weren't quite sure what to say to that until one of them, shoved back behind the group, suddenly dismounted and stepped forward. Dressed in expensive protection, he was also dressed quite finely. Too finely for a knight. He removed his helm, revealing dark, dirty hair and a droopy eye. It took Jax a moment to recognize the man.

He was looking at John, King of England.

"De Velt," John said, sounding hoarse and weary. "Surely our engagement will not come to such bloodshed. It does not need to."

Jax wasn't about to show any measure of respect to a man he deeply resented. There were years of hatred there, stoked by none other than John himself.

"Your father and I had an agreement," he said. "You and I also had an agreement early in your reign. What has happened to this bargain, John? Why attack Pelinom? You know this will not end well for you."

John, seeing Jax through the big iron fangs, grinned. "Jax, my old friend," he said affectionately. At least, it sounded like affection. "I always thought William Marshal and his Executioner Knights were the most necessary evil in my kingdom but I think you surpass even them. You are the most fearsome warlord in all of England, but you are not an unreasonable man. Surely we can come to an agreement. We have always been able to talk, you and I."

Jax wasn't falling for his mild-sounding words. "If you had anything to say, you would have done it prior to attacking my home," he said. "After two days of being unable to breach the walls of Pelinom, now you wish to converse? Truly, I have nothing to say to you."

John wasn't going to back down. "Join me and I shall gift you Berwick permanently," he said, moving directly to the point. "I will also gift you with Carlisle. You shall become the Earl of Carlisle and rule the north. Is this not appealing to you?"

Jax didn't even hesitate; he shook his head. "It means nothing," he said. "I have my home and my holdings. I do not want an earldom."

"But I need your help."

"You have the help of about fifteen hundred mercenaries. You do not need me."

"You are not being fair."

Jax sighed heavily. "We danced a similar dance a few years ago when you tried to take Berwick with the help of the Princes of the Isles," he said. "You tried to bring the Northmen into northern England to control your warlords and it did not work. We chased you out then and we shall chase you out now. You cannot have Pelinom and you cannot have me, so take your army and leave before I grow annoyed enough to open these gates and charge your army. I will not fight them– I will destroy them the way I have always destroyed armies. I have never put a king to the pole before but for you, I will make an exception."

John tried not to let his apprehension show because he knew the man was serious. Jax de Velt never said anything he didn't mean.

"I think The Marshal will have something to say about that," he said after a moment. "He may not love me, but he is sworn to me. For now."

"It does not matter."

"You would go against your ally?"

"I will defend what is mine and eliminate the threat. You are the threat."

The king could see that Jax would not be swayed. Not that he had expected he would be, but he had been hoping to intimidate or coerce de Velt enough for the man to want to compromise. He knew now that it had been a stupid hope because Jax de Velt had never compromised in his life.

They were at an impasse.

"Very well," John said, turning for his horse. "You only have yourself to blame for what happens next."

"The same could be said for you."

Annoyed, John was finished being polite. He leapt onto his horse and roughly turned the animal around, galloping back towards his encampment with his entourage.

Jax watched him fade from view.

"Reinforce the walls," he muttered to Julian and Ashton. "Inform Tristan of what has happened and reinforce the postern gate. That's the only…"

" Attack! "

The shout came from the kitchens, where the postern gate was. Men started to rush in that direction but Julian and Ashton stopped them, ordering them to hold their posts. Jax began to run towards the kitchen yard with Julian and Ashton on his heels.

"Damn," he hissed. "A ruse. That whole conversation was a ruse while they made their way to the postern gate. Get the men to their posts– everyone on the walls. Go! "

Julian and Ashton split off, with Ashton heading to the gatehouse and Julian rushing for the troop house to empty it of any men who might be inside. But those men had heard the shouting and were already spilling forth just about the time a hail of arrows sailed over the walls, straight into the bailey.

Very quickly, the quiet morning had turned deadly.

It was an all-out assault. Julian was nicked by a bolt, which clipped him in the shoulder, but he saw at least a dozen men go down with nasty bolts sticking out of them. He picked up the one that had hit him, inspecting it. They were big, freshly hewn bolts with enormous iron tips, newly fitted and forged. He could still smell the acrid heat from the forge on them. As he eyed the bolt, puzzled, another heavier barrage flew up and over the wall.

The shields, for the de Velt men, began to come out.

Tossing the bolt to the ground, Julian rushed to the armory to collect his shield. He also collected as many as he could carry, the only protection against the rain of arrows that were now bearing down on Pelinom. He had to find his father to make sure the man was protected and he rushed out of the armory, tossing shields to men as he went. A third wave was launched, heading straight for the battlements. He could see soldiers hiding behind the crenelations as a sea of bolts poured through any openings in the wall.

"They've got an army of archers!" Ashton bellowed down from the wall when he saw Julian approaching. "They just emerged from the trees. Hundreds of them!"

Julian mounted the ladder to the walls, meeting Ashton halfway and handing him one of two shields he still held. "They've been hiding for two days?" he demanded. "Those bolts are fresh, Ash. I inspected one and the tip is newly forged."

Ashton was grim as he took the offered shield. "It makes sense," he said. "They probably spent them all on the last few battles and had to replenish their arsenal. No wonder the past two days have been quiet. They were waiting for their archers to refill their damned quills!"

Another round of bolts flew over the walls, this time aiming for the bailey. Most everyone was already under cover except for the men who had been hit and there were several. They were trying to drag themselves to safety but most of them were bad off. Holding his shield over his head, Julian came off the ladder and ran for them.

The first man he grabbed had a big bolt in his chest. He was only half-conscious as Julian grabbed an arm and began to pull him towards the troop house. He had only taken a couple of steps when he began to hear his mother shouting for him.

"Julian!" Kellington de Velt was standing in the now open door to the keep. She was waving frantically at her son. "Bring them in here! Hurry!"

Enraged, Julian ran across the bailey, dragging the man behind him. "Why did you open the door?" he shouted. "Papa will be furious with you!"

Kellington ignored him. She was a strong woman, tough as few were, beautiful and intelligent. Only a woman of such strength and character could have survived marriage to The Dark Lord. Not only survived but thrived. Jax and Kellington had a love story for the ages. She stood aside as Julian brought the soldier to the door where servants took over and dragged him inside.

"Hurry, Julian," Kellington commanded, pointing to the wounded men in the bailey. "Bring them all in here."

Julian didn't have time to argue with her. He was angry that the door was open, but he supposed she had a point. They had wounded now, where they hadn't had any for two days, and his mother and sisters were prepared to tend them. He rushed back towards the wounded, grabbing another man, when he suddenly looked up and saw his father carrying one man over his broad shoulders while towing another man by the arm. As his father ran past him, Julian grabbed another victim by the wrist and began to run after his father.

"Papa!" he shouted. "Take my shield. You must protect yourself."

Jax dumped the man on his shoulder into the waiting arms of servants while still others pulled the man in his grip inside. He turned to Julian as the man rushed up dragging a body.

"No shield," Jax said, composed and focused as he always was. "It will only slow me down. These men must get inside."

"Jax, listen to him," Kellington said, bordering on scolding. "Use a shield to protect yourself. If they are firing bolts, then…"

She was cut off when another barrage flew over the wall, striking the sides of the keep. Jax pushed his wife inside the door, out of the line of fire, before rushing back to the wounded. More soldiers were dragging their colleagues inside now, some of them carrying shields to protect themselves, but it was chaos in the bailey of Pelinom. Men were shouting and running everywhere. Julian was behind his father, trying to shield his man from another hail of bolts.

"Papa, get inside," he pleaded. "Most of the men are inside and we can bring in the rest. You are needlessly exposing yourself!"

Before Jax could reply, more arrows hit a man near him, a man who was trying to carry a comrade to the keep. Jax rushed to help both of them when the worst happened– a bolt plowed into him, straight into his left shoulder blade in a prime location in his back. It was such a big bolt that the tip emerged on the left side of his abdomen, poking through the mail. Another barrage came over the wall and Julian threw himself on his father, shield lifted, but he wasn't in time. Another bolt caught Jax in the top of his right shoulder, burrowing nearly half its length straight down, straight into Jax's powerful body.

It had all happened so fast. Faster than Julian could comprehend. One moment, his father was well and in the next, he had two massive bolts sticking out of him. But he hadn't gone down; nay, Jax de Velt was too strong for that. He simply stood there and took it, as if the bolts meant nothing to him.

As if they didn't mean his very life.

But they meant something to Julian. After a split second of disbelief, he grabbed his father, trying to keep the shield over him but he couldn't because of the big bolt in Jax's right shoulder. It kept knocking the shield sideways.

Julian began screaming to the men around him.

"Help me!" he said. "Help me get him inside!"

Jax was in a bad way, but he had hold of a man on the ground with a bolt through his pelvis and he wouldn't release him. He was still walking, still dragging that man, but he was staggering.

He was weakening.

"Papa," Julian begged. "Let go of the soldier. Please let go."

Jax's face was ashen. All of the color was gone. But still, he wouldn't release the soldier. "I cannot," he said stoically. "I must get him to safety."

Julian was beside himself. "I must get you to safety," he said, struggling not to become hysterical. "Papa, drop the man. Someone else will help him. Please let me take you inside."

Jax ignored him, but he was grunting. An odd grunting sound was coming from him as each step became more and more difficult. More and more taxing. Blood was streaming from the entry and exit wounds and because both lungs had been pierced, he could hardly breathe. He coughed, spraying blood from his mouth. Men were starting to crowd around Jax including Ashton, who had come off the wall when he saw what happened. Between Ashton and Julian, they managed to break Jax's grip on the man he'd been trying so desperately to drag to safety.

Jax was still walking, but with great difficulty.

Julian had hold of him, guiding his father towards the keep entry. He could hear crying and sobbing, but he didn't take his eyes off his father. He knew the sound must have been coming from his sisters and even servants who were in the entry, watching the horrific and heartbreaking scene. Step by step, inch by inch, Jax continued to walk towards the keep with every bit of strength he had. He was focused on something straight ahead, something he'd been focused on for more than thirty years.

His wife.

Kellington had come out of the keep and Julian turned to see his mother, her arms outstretched to her husband. She was perfectly calm, perfectly collected, as she put her hands on her husband and directed him inside with her.

"Come along, Jax," she said steadily. "Come inside and let me help you."

She acted like there weren't two enormous bolts sticking out of the man. She was composed and soothing. But Jax had blood and saliva dripping from his mouth, down his chin, his face the color of snow.

"There are men who need help," he said breathlessly. "I must…"

"Julian will make sure they are collected," Kellington said, gently cutting him off. "I must take care of you now. You have been wounded and you must come with me."

Mercifully, he didn't argue. He went with her. They passed through the keep entry and Jax finally lost his strength. He plummeted to his knees and Kellington went down with him to help him, but he was such a large man that she couldn't support his weight as he pitched forward, falling on her. Kellington ended up on her bottom as Jax lay across her awkwardly because of the bolts that were sticking out of him. His head ended up against her breasts as her arms went around him.

"I am sorry," he said, spraying blood onto her chest. "This is not how I planned my day, Kelli."

Kellington cradled him as the surgeon, a man who had been with Jax's army for many years, rushed over to inspect the damage. Kellington managed to wrap her arms tightly around her husband, holding him against her as his blood stained her flesh, knowing that this was the end before the surgeon even told her that Jax would not survive his wounds.

Somehow, she just knew.

"I do not think any of us plan our days perfectly," she said, gazing down into his pale face. "But you were doing a very brave thing to help your wounded soldiers. I expect nothing less from you."

Jax tried to clear his throat but there was a good deal of blood clogging it. "They are my men," he said simply. "They are willing to die for me. I should be willing to die for them."

The surgeon was moving around her, quickly inspecting entry and exit wounds, but when she noticed the man had stopped, she glanced up at him. All she could see was a grim expression and she knew it was because there was no hope.

He didn't have to say a word.

She returned her gaze to Jax's dual-colored eyes, eyes she knew so well.

"You are the most noble man I know," she said, struggling against the grief and agony that threatened. It would do no good; it wouldn't heal Jax. And she very much wanted this moment between them to be peaceful and loving if it was to be their last. "When I first met you, you did not have a noble bone in your body, but you have redeemed yourself."

"Do you think so?"

"I do."

"I am afraid that God will not think so."

"He will," she assured him, warmth in her expression. Then she glanced up, seeing her daughters Effington and Addington kneeling beside Jax with tears all over their faces. Julian was at his father's hip and he reached out to take one of his bloodied hands. Kellington smiled at her children, at her husband. "Look at these fine, strong people you have raised, Jax. Glorious sons and beautiful daughters. Only a man blessed by God would have such magnificent offspring."

Jax tried to clear his throat again but all that came out was blood. "It was you," he muttered, speaking more slowly now. "Everything I am, everything they are… it is all you. I have loved you… from the beginning of time and I shall… love you… until the end. I want you to know that, Kelli. You've made my life… worth living."

Kellington pulled him closer, kissing his forehead. "And I shall love you even longer still," she whispered. "You are a great man, Jax de Velt. You are the greatest man I have ever known and it has been my honor and privilege to be your wife."

"Nay, love," he muttered thickly. "It is I who have been privileged. But for this ending, I… I am… sorry. I… had hoped to die an old man, with you… by my side. Forgive me."

She smoothed his hair away from his face, tenderly. "For what?" she said. "We have had a wonderful life, you and I. It will not end here. I will see you again. But until I do, know that I shall miss you every hour of every day. I will miss your warmth and humor and stubbornness. I will miss everything about you. Even if we do not die together, old and gray, know I am the most fortunate woman in the world because of you."

His eyes, which had been drooping, suddenly opened again and he looked at her. "I do not want to leave you."

"I know."

"Do not leave me."

"I will not. I will stay right here."

"Are you… you still holding me?"

"I am, Jax."

"Hold me tighter."

Kellington squeezed him. "Is that better, my pet?"

Jax's eyes closed and a lone tear streamed from his right eye, down his temple. "Kelli?" he murmured.

"Aye?"

"Where are you?"

"Right here. I am with you. We are all with you."

"Where is Julian?"

Focus shifted to Julian, who had been watching the scene with complete horror and agony. He was so choked up that he could hardly speak. "I am here, Papa," he whispered. "I am right here."

Jax squeezed his hand weakly. "Do not be afraid, Julian," he muttered. "Whatever life brings you… do not be afraid."

Julian broke down, tears streaming from his eyes. "I won't, Papa, I promise."

"Your… your time will come. But you must… find that greatness yourself."

"I will try to, Papa."

"Tell your brothers… tell them I love them," he rasped. "Cass… he is my heart. Our last words were… in anger. Do… do not let him feel guilty because of it. And Cole… he is my soul. Tell them how proud I am of them."

"I will, Papa."

"Addie? Effie?"

The two younger daughters were sobbing quietly. "We're here, Papa," Effington, the older one, said as she touched his cheek. "We're here. We love you."

Jax's breathing was becoming erratic. "Be happy," he said breathlessly. "I… I love you both very much. Go with Julian now. I want… want to be alone with your mother."

Julian lifted his father's hand, kissing it, before leading his sisters away. The women were sobbing, heading off into the small solar of the keep, as Julian paused at the entry and watched them go. He was just so overwhelmed with everything that he felt as if he were living a nightmare. Everything was closing in on him, swallowing him up with grief until he could hardly breathe. After a moment, he turned to see Ashton standing in the keep entry.

The man had tears in his eyes.

"Back to the wall, Ash," he commanded quietly. "Tell Tristan what has happened, but do not tell them men. Some may have seen what happened, but most did not. It may kill their morale to know what has happened to my father, so do not… tell them yet."

Ashton quickly wiped his eyes. "I will not," he said. "Tristan and I will hold the line. You must be with your father at this time."

Julian simply nodded. Ashton put a comforting hand on his shoulder before departing the keep, heading out to the wall and shouting to the men. Julian watched him go a moment before returning his attention to his father and mother. Kellington was still holding Jax tightly, her cheek against his forehead, rocking him gently.

The sight broke Julian's heart.

As he stood there and blinked back tears, the old surgeon came over to him.

"I cannot help your father, lad," he said in his usual raspy tone. "The wounds are too great. There was no chance."

"I know."

"He's a strong man. A lesser man would have been killed right away."

Julian struggled to swallow the lump in his throat. "My father is no ordinary man."

The surgeon, who had been with the de Velt army for several years, simply nodded. "I'll be with the men in the solar but send for me when your mother is ready."

"Ready for what?"

"To take your father away."

Julian couldn't believe he was hearing those words. So much of him was in denial at the moment that he simply couldn't grasp that his father was dying. It had all happened so fast. Five minutes ago, his father was alive and well, but now…

Now, he was passing into legend.

As he watched his parents in a scene he would never be able to forget, as if it were branded into his memory, he didn't see his father moving at all, so perhaps he was already dead. The battle that Julian had thought so ridiculously weak had become the worst battle he'd ever faced in his life. Most certainly the costliest.

Do not underestimate John , his father had said.

God help him, he'd been right.

But he couldn't allow the grief to fill him. If he did, he would be unable to function. There was still a battle going on and with his father down, it was now up to him. The timid knight who lacked self-confidence now found himself in command of mighty Pelinom Castle and John wasn't going to lay his goddamned hands on Pelinom while Julian had breath left his body.

Instead of grief filling his veins, hatred did.

Hatred for the king who killed his father.

With a lingering look to his parents, Julian headed out into the bailey where another barrage of arrows had come down but no one had been hit this time. Everyone was staying under cover now.

And that went on for the rest of the day.

When evening finally fell, John's army had retreated enough to convince Julian and Ashton and Tristan that they were finally pulling out. They'd been unable to break Pelinom, at least not in a way they could see. The walls stood, but inside, the damage had indeed been done. Terrible damage that was the worst possible outcome in the death of Jax de Velt. When Julian finally entered the keep after sunset to see what had become of his mother and father, he found his mother sitting on the ground where he'd left her, still holding what was now his father's cooling corpse and from what Julian was told, no one could make her release him.

Julian didn't even try.

In fact, he stood guard over his mother and father all night, a silent witness to their last embrace on this earth. A silent witness to the conclusion of a love story for the ages. Even when they finally managed to take Jax away to remove the bolts to prepare the man for burial, Kellington never left his side. The entire time, she never left him.

And neither did Julian.

For The Dark Lord, he showed him that respect.

For his father, he showed him that love.

Farewell, Papa…