Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

K ellington's first glimpse of her father had her racing the length of the bailey and throwing herself into the man's arms just as he dismounted his steed. Keats looked a little older, a little thinner, but he was very happy to be alive. As he tightly embraced his daughter, it was a moment he thought he would never experience again.

It was two days since their return from Hadden and Kellington was in the midst of organizing the labor gangs for the harvest that would begin on the morrow. Kellington clutched her father's arm as they made their way back into the keep, chattering happily but oblivious to her father's nervous gaze about his fortress. Although he was home, it was no longer his home to call and he was understandably uneasy. Once they reached the keep, Kellington took him straight away into the solar.

Matilda had brought fresh bread and wine. It sat on the corner of his old desk. Edgy, weary and somewhat confused, Keats was still looking around as if waiting for de Velt and his men to jump from the walls when Kellington encouraged him to the food. He looked startled by her suggestion but dutifully went to the tray. In truth, he was famished. He took the bread but remained standing.

He chewed his bread as his daughter rambled on about the coinage they would pull from tomorrow's harvest. Her behavior was very normal considering what had gone on the past several weeks. In fact, it was almost too normal.

"Kelli," he interrupted her prattle. "What is going on here? Why have I been brought back?"

The smile faded from her face somewhat, momentarily confused by his question. "You… you have been brought back because I asked for you to be brought back," she said. "Lord de Velt was gracious enough to grant my request."

Her father stopped chewing, his golden-brown eyes focused on his only child. "Where is he?"

Kellington shrugged and sat down behind the desk. "To be truthful, I do not know. I have not seen much of him over the past day or so."

His gaze bore into her. "How has he treated you? Has he… harmed you?"

"He has not harmed me in the least. He has been a generous host."

He swallowed the bite in his mouth and went to stand in front of her. "He is not a host," he snapped softly. "He is a murderer. What has happened since you and I last saw one another? When I left, my army was being spitted and posted in the bailey. The screams of live men being gored will haunt me to my grave. Where are they now? What has happened here in the past three weeks?"

The pleasant expression was gone from her face completely. "Father," she murmured softly. "Isn't it enough that we are together again? Can you not be grateful for small blessings?"

"Nay," he said, almost angry at her seemingly complacent attitude. "You will tell me what has happened since the day I left here. And no lies. Where is my army? What has de Velt done to my fortress?"

She sighed heavily, knowing there was no way around this. She had only hoped it would not be this soon, but she supposed there was no reason to delay. Her father was exhausted and edgy. She did not want Jax to see the man like this lest they both snap.

"Your army has been buried," she said softly.

His eyebrows flew up. "Buried?" he repeated, incredulous. "Who buried them?"

"De Velt."

He looked as if she had lost her mind. "What…? By God's Holy Rood, Kelli, such things are unheard of when it comes to de Velt. By all accounts, there should be a host of rotting corpses still in the bailey with birds feeding off the flesh. Why in God's name did he bury them?"

She looked at him, almost ashamed with her answer. "Because I asked him to."

He father stared at her as if waiting for more of an explanation. When nothing more was forthcoming, he lifted his eyebrows. "That is it? Because you asked him to?"

She nodded. "He spared the women, too. Even Lavaine when she tried to take a dagger to him."

Keats was at a loss. Stunned, he moved to the nearest chair, lowering his weary body as he struggled to digest the information. "But why would he do this?" he asked, almost to himself. He looked at his daughter. "There must be more to it."

She didn't want to tell him all of it, not now while he was unbalanced. "I simply asked him if he would bury our army. He complied. Why are you so surprised?"

Keats' slapped his hand on his thigh. "Because Jax de Velt knows no mercy. He's been known to leave conquered armies posted for months as a warning to all who would oppose him. There must be more to it than…, he suddenly looked stricken, his eyes widening at her. "Dear God, no. Please tell me that he has not taken… God, tell me that he's not made you his whore."

She flushed a dull red. "He has not," she insisted strongly. "I swear to you that he has not. He has been most kind to me."

Keats shot to his feet. "That is just not possible," he fired at her. "Jax de Velt is not a kind man, Kelli. What has he done to make you say such things?"

"I've not done anything."

Jax was standing at the door to the solar. He was clad in mail but without his pieces of plate armor; it was a dressed-down version of his battle mode. He eyed Keats as he came into the room, his expression alone asserting dominance over the man. He could see that Keats was unbalanced and, knowing it would please Kellington, he struggled for more of an explanation to appease the father.

"Your daughter has been instrumental in making sure Pelinom functions as it should," he said. "I owe her much. As a show of gratitude, I removed the bodies of your army from the bailey and buried them at her request. You are here for the same reason."

Keats was on his feet, staring up at the man who was literally more than twice his size. "I am grateful that you have shown my daughter such kindness, my lord," he said. "She looks healthy and whole. For that reason alone, I owe you much. I am your servant to command if it will continue to keep my daughter safe."

It was a surprising answer. Jax didn't believe him in the least but he refrained from commenting. In fact, as he looked at the man, he realized he wanted something from him very badly. It was his way to demand things, not ask for them, so he was somewhat at a loss as to how to ask Keats for Kellington's hand. That's all he could think of when he saw the man ride in earlier. From the looks of him, he probably would not take the question well this day. When the man was rested and fed would be a better opportunity.

"Although you have been returned to Pelinom, understand that you are still my prisoner," Jax did not want there to be any question of the situation at the moment. "As I have commanded your daughter, I shall command you also. You may not leave the keep for any reason without escort. Your chamber on the third floor still belongs to you. I would suggest you retreat there until I send for you."

Keats was not surprised by the directive. He had expected worse. But it was clear that de Velt was very much in charge of Pelinom in spite of his odd behavior. Without another word, Keats quit the solar and made his way up to his former chamber. When he was well out of earshot, Kellington looked at Jax.

"You were not very kind to him," she said.

He met her gaze. "He is my prisoner."

"He is my father."

"You are my prisoner, too."

She looked at him as if she'd been struck. Of course she was but he hadn't been so obvious about it in days. Averting her gaze, she sat heavily on her stool and kept her eyes down to the parchment in front of her.

Jax watched her, the way the light glistened off her golden hair. He'd hardly seen her since they had returned from Hadden because he'd had other things to keep him occupied. The siege of White Crag would begin tomorrow as they began to move men and material out of Pelinom and onto the road south. He had another one hundred men riding from Foulburn, including two siege engines. They would all join up on the road just north of White Craig in two days. Jax could not delay from Pelinom; timing of this was critical.

But he found that he did not want to leave Kellington. The more he planned for White Crag, the more she loomed in his thoughts. The frustration and confusion over it was giving him a headache, something that had manifested itself into even harsher commands and a darker mood. At the moment, his men were afraid to be around him. So he excused himself when he saw Keats arrive. Now he had chased Keats out for a reason.

"You are a prisoner for your own protection," he said quietly.

She did not look up. "My own protection? Why?"

He came to the desk, lingering by the edge of it. "Because I cannot take a chance that some other knight will try to steal you. Therefore, I must place you under my protection."

She looked up, then. The dual-colored eyes gazed down at her with a steady expression. Warm, even.

"Where have you been the past few days?" she asked softly. "I've hardly seen you."

He drew in a long, weary breath. There was a sturdy oak chair underneath one of the lancet windows; he went to it and sat heavily. He removed his gauntlets as he spoke.

"I've been with my men," he said, setting the gloves aside. "How are we set for the harvest?"

He was changing the subject and she knew it, but she dutifully looked to the parchment in front of her. "Well enough," she said. "I expect our workers to begin arriving well before dawn tomorrow. I have a total of sixty-two workers; with that many, we can complete this in three days."

"And then what?"

She looked at him, then. "We take the produce to market at Berwick, which brings about another issue."

"What issue is that?"

"I will need wagons to transport the produce and men to drive them. I know you have provision wagons; I've seen them. We will need to use them."

He did not look pleased. "Surely you have your own wagons for this?"

"They were in the out barns and you burned them during the siege."

That gave him a moment of thought. He finally lifted his eyebrows. "Perhaps those who come here tomorrow to harvest will have wagons you may use, for you cannot use mine."

"Why not?"

"Because I need them."

"What for?"

His two-colored gaze lingered on her. "Because my army and I are moving out at dawn."

She didn't say anything for a moment. She just stared at him. "You are leaving?"

"Aye."

"For how long?"

"I do not know."

"Am I allowed to ask where you are going?"

"No."

She lowered her gaze and looked back to her parchment, pretending to busy herself. But she was only fidgeting. Jax watched her beautiful hands moving about, his gaze moving to the shape of her magnificent face and the slender slope of her neck. She had her hair back this day, secured in a thick bun at the nape of her neck. He loved to look at her neck. The gown she wore had a very wide neckline, scooped low on her bosom and extending out to the edge of her shoulders. There was a good deal of luscious flesh exposed. The more he gazed at her, the more he realized that he already missed her.

Rising, he made his way over to her. He stood next to her, watching her lowered head as she doodled with her quill. Very slowly, and with a great deal of reverence, he bent over and slanted his lips over the tender flesh of her shoulder.

Kellington gasped as he suckled her skin, his enormous arms suddenly wrapping around her and pulling her fiercely against him. From a warm spark to a flash fire, Jax's mouth moved across her shoulder and up her neck, finally descending on her sweet lips in a blaze of passion. Kellington responded readily, throwing her arms around his neck as he lifted her high off the ground, holding her so tightly that he was in danger of crushing her.

Until this moment, his kisses had been lusty and forceful. But this kiss was different; there was something deeper to it, more potent, as if he was attempting to convey to her all he could not say in words. His tongue licked her lips and she opened her mouth to him, allowing him to taste deeply of her. Jax feasted, gorged himself, and still he wanted more. He knew, as he lived and breathed, that he would never have enough of her. She set him on fire, humbled him, brought him to his knees and built him up at the same time so that he felt more powerful than anything on the earth. He wanted her so badly that he could feel it to his bones.

His mouth left her lips, once again devouring the flesh of her neck. Kellington clung to him, gasping for air.

"Jax," she murmured into his long, dark hair. "Must you go?"

"Aye," his words were muffled against her skin.

"You are going to war again, are you not?"

His pace slowed but didn't stop completely. "Does it matter?"

It did. Her passion was dampened thinking of him going into battle again, of the men he would kill and the people he would conquer. It was further doused when she thought of him injured, fighting for his life with those who were intent on killing him. It was an odd paradox. As his hungry mouth moved to the swell of her breasts she wound her fingers into his hair and held him fast against her.

"I do not want you to go, my pet," she whispered.

He heard her. My pet. His kisses against her breasts slowed and he gradually looked up, his great dual-colored eyes riveted to her face.

"I must go," he replied quietly.

Her eyes filled with tears and she struggled for her composure. "But you go to do to another castle what you have done to Pelinom," a finger came up, delicately tracing his lower lip. "You go to murder people. Women, children. How can I love a man who kills the weak and helpless? How can you behave so tenderly and sweetly with me, yet walk out this door and kill a man who was only defending what belongs to him? I do not understand how you can do this."

She blinked and her tears splattered onto his cheek. For the first time in his life, Jax suddenly felt a twinge of guilt at what he did. The tears on her face caused him to feel such confusion as he had never known. When she suddenly leaned forward and began tenderly kissing his face, he knew he was a dead man. He couldn't have pulled away from her if he tried.

"Kelli," he muttered, his eyes closing as her sweet kisses rained over his chin. "I told you that I have always been an ambitious man. I will not give up that ambition, even for you."

Her kisses grew more forceful. "I am not asking you to. But I am asking you to at least behave civilly. I know you are capable of this. I have seen it in you."

"What does that mean?"

She abruptly stopped and looked him in the eye. "It means that you will not murder any women or children," her hands were on his face, touching him with gentleness he had never before experienced. "Men in battle are different, I suppose. They are trained for war and death is a part of that. But the women and children… they are innocent, Jax. You must promise me that you will not kill any of them."

He gazed back at her, feeling her hands on him, so torn that he could hardly comprehend the turmoil in his mind.

"You do not understand," he muttered.

"I understand that you have no reason to kill women or children." When he tried to pull away from her, she held him fast and made him look her in the eye. "Tell me what your logic is in doing this horrible deed and I will try to understand. I am willing to listen."

He was stiffening. "I do not have to explain myself to you."

"If you want me to marry you, then you most certainly do. I will not marry a murderer, Jax. I told you that once. I meant it."

His arms were around her still; he let her go. But Kellington kept a firm grip around his neck and held fast, even as he dropped his arms completely. His jaw was ticking furiously and he was trying to look away from her, but she would have none of it.

"Tell me why you do such a horrible thing."

"Because they are threats," he snapped softly, trying not to look at her but being sucked in by those magnificent eyes. "Every living creature is a threat. To eliminate the threat is to ensure victory."

She could see that he was unsettled. She tightened her arms, laying her forehead against his cheek. "What can women possibly do against you?" she asked softly. "And children; what threat can they possibly be? For God's sake, throw them in the vault or take them somewhere far away and release them, but do not kill them. It is not necessary. Wherever you are going and for whatever you are going to do, please keep that in mind. Please show mercy, my pet. Someday you may require it yourself."

She was rubbing her forehead against his scratchy cheek, finally coming up to kiss him again. Jax closed his eyes against her tender onslaught, his arms finally making their way back around her. The more she kissed him, the more entrenched he became until it was he who was taking the offensive, smothering her with his hot mouth, kissing her until she could not breathe.

He had backed them into a corner. Kellington's back was against the wall as Jax feasted on the swell of her breasts. He remembered those breasts from when they had first met, when he had demanded she remove all of her clothing for him in the dank of Pelinom's vault. He remembered lusting after her then, but it was nothing compared to now. There was so much more involved in what he felt for her than simple hunger. She was very quickly embedding herself in his heart as well as his mind, and he had no way of knowing how to slow the progression.

He pulled her gown off of one shoulder, lapping at the soft skin on her upper arm. Pulling it further, he managed to completely expose one breast. Gently, he suckled a tender nipple, listening to Kellington's gasps of surprise and pleasure. He suckled until he was completely engorged. Cupping her breast with an enormous hand and covering it completely, his lips slanted over her mouth once again and his tongue invaded her honeyed recesses.

"I would have you now," he spoke into her mouth.

Kellington realized what he meant and her eyes widened. "But… we're not…"

"Married?" he punctuated the word by squeezing her breast gently. "We will be. With God as my witness, we will be before this month is over no matter what your father says. You belong to me, Kelli. I intend to have you. All of you."

He went back to her breast, nursing hungrily. Kellington was having difficulty thinking as his tongue did wicked things to her.

"Jax," she tried to pull his head up but he would not budge. "Jax, my pet, please listen to me."

His head finally came up, the dual-colored eyes glazed with passion. "What is it?"

He kissed her firmly before she could reply and she dislodged the kiss, bobbing her head to avoid his seeking mouth so that she could speak.

"If you want to marry soon, then you must seek my father's permission right away," she said. "You must convince him that your intentions are honorable and that you are not simply claiming a spoil of war."

He sighed against her cheek, disappointed that she was making him focus on something other than her sweet body. His hand was still over her breast and he began to rub it softly.

"I do not believe your father would be receptive to it today."

"Then when?"

"When I return."

"When will that be?"

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Knowing that you will be here waiting for me, it will seem like an eternity."

She gazed into his unusual eyes, thinking for the first time how beautiful they were. She gently touched his cheek. "For me as well. Jax, please promise me that you will conduct yourself with fairness and mercy. Do what you must, fulfill your ambitions, but at least do it with decency. Will you at least promise me that?"

A faint smile came to his lips. "Aye," he finally muttered. "If it means so much to you, then I will do my best to comply."

"Do you even understand what I mean? Such things do not come naturally to you."

"I understand. My men will think I've gone mad, but I understand."

She smiled brightly, both hands on his head affectionately. "I will not stop you from being who you are, but let us add another chapter to Jax de Velt's legacy. Let us introduce mercy to the man and his legend and see where that takes us."

He met her smile, kissing her with such ardor that it made her head swim. Then he kissed her exposed breast tenderly before he covered it back up and straightened the neckline of her gown. Reluctantly, he lowered her to the ground. Taking both of her hands, he brought them to his lips.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked, his mouth against her fingers.

She looked puzzled. "About what?"

"You wanted to know how you could love a man who kills the weak and helpless," he turned her hands over and kissed the palms. "Do you really think you could grow to love me someday?"

She smiled warmly. "Oh, Jax," she breathed. "To that man who is kind, gentle, generous, and understanding, I think I can learn to love him. But to the Dark Lord inside you… I do not love what he does. I hate it."

"We are one in the same."

"I know. Although I will not try to cage the Dark Lord, I will be honest when I say that I intend to civilize him."

He couldn't help the grin that creased his lips, snorting softly at her bold declaration. "Then you have a task ahead of you, lady."

Her smile faded as she gazed up into his unusual eyes. "Will you not tell me where you are going?"

The smile left his lips as well. "Does it matter?"

She shook her head. "Nay, only… only what if you do not return? I will not know where to look for you."

A flicker of confusion crossed his features. "You would look for me?"

"Of course. I would bury you in Pelinom's chapel so that I could still talk to you every day."

"Bury me?"

"If you fall in battle, I mean. Someone must take care of you and remember you in prayer."

She meant every word sincerely. Jax stared at her, touched beyond words that she would say such a thing. He'd never had anyone express such sentiment to him; not even his father from whom he learned everything. The man was beyond sentiment, a black spawn from a black family line that had culminated with the mightiest warrior of the line in Ajax. The de Velts were not known as a sentimental family. Even when his mother had died when he had been six years of age, Jax remembered only that they had taken her body to the nearest church where his father had paid the monks to pray over the woman and bury her in some unmarked grave. And that had been the end of it.

Did such sentiment really exist? He'd never cared until this moment. In fact, there were a great many things in his life that he'd never given thought to until he had met Kellington. Now he cared a great deal. Bending down, he kissed her sweetly on the lips.

"Have no fear, love," he murmured, kissing her again. "I will return to you, I swear it."

With a final kiss, he quit the solar, vacating into the sunset skies beyond the keep. Kellington went back to her bookkeeping, her thoughts lingering on the massive man with the two colored eyes and praying that he would keep his promises; all of them.

*

Keats opened his chamber door to the soft knock and was surprised to see who stood there. "Lavaine," he said. "So you are still at Pelinom. I had no idea what had become of you. Are you well?"

Lavaine nodded, pleased to see her husband's commanding officer. He had always been very kind to her. When he ushered her inside his room, he took her hand and kissed it.

"I am well, my lord," she said. "It is very good to see you returned."

Keats wriggled his eyebrows. "And it is good to be back, I think," he led her over to the chairs near the hearth. He held one out of for her and she sat. He took the one opposite. "It is a far different place than I left," he commented.

Lavaine agreed. "At least… at least the army has been cut down and buried. We may thank Kellington for that. She demanded that de Velt bury the army, so he did."

Keats absorbed the words, his seasoned mind working. He was glad to see her, that was true, but he was mostly interested in what was really going on at Pelinom. Lavaine had always been something of a gossip so he knew she would tell him. Although he had not wanted to get into it so early in the conversation, since she brought the subject up, he would take her lead.

"Lavaine," he said slowly, not wanting to upset her. "What is going on with my daughter and de Velt? The Jax de Velt I have heard tale of for nine years is not a man of compassion or kindness. He had not taken her for a lover, has he?"

Lavaine blanched slightly. "Have you asked her, my lord?"

"I have. She has denied it."

Lavaine sighed faintly, looking to her hands as she thought carefully on her words. "I do not believe they are lovers in the literal sense, my lord," she said. "But I would be lying if I said that there was nothing between them."

Keats closed his eyes to the horrors of that thought. He suddenly had a very bad headache right between the eyes and he rubbed at his forehead. "Do you know this for certain?"

"I have not seen evidence of it, no. But he keeps her very close to him. And he will do anything she asks. When… when she asked him to bury Trevan and our son, he did so without delay."

Keats was still rubbing his forehead, remembering Trevan's groans of pain as de Velt impaled him on a sharpened Yew sapling. It was something he could not block out.

"Then I am thankful for Kelli's influence over de Velt," he said. He stopped rubbing and looked at her. "But how far does it go? Is she fond of him also?"

Lavaine shrugged. "She will not speak of it to me." She suddenly looked uncomfortable. "But… but I have heard de Velt's men speak of his infatuation with her. They are not kind about it."

"Because they are all demons and murderers," Keats grumbled. "What is it they say?"

"That Kelli is a witch and has cast a spell on de Velt. They say she has great control over him."

Keats could not believe what he was hearing. When he was sent to Foulburn Castle those weeks ago, never had he imagined that the situation at Pelinom would take this course. On the other hand, he was not surprised. Kellington was a beautiful woman with a beautiful figure and she'd had suitors come and go since a young age. She had never shown much interest in any of them. He found it horribly ironic that the one man she apparently gave attention to was one her father would prefer she not.

"Well," he said thoughtfully, calming somewhat now that his suspicions had been confirmed. "I will speak to her about it. She must know that de Velt is not meant for her."

Lavaine nodded emphatically. "You must, my lord. I fear she is siding with the Devil and believing his lies. I fear for her."

"As do I. Thank you for telling me."

Lavaine wrung her hands. "Is there any way you can remove her from Pelinom? Perhaps if you were to take her away from here…."

Keats threw up his arms. "How? I am a prisoner myself. How would I be able to remove her from de Velt's presence?"

"You could if I helped you."

A deep voice came from the chamber door; it was open. Neither Keats nor Lavaine had heard it open on its old iron hinges. But it was indeed open, and Hazard now stood in the doorway in the form of Amadeo.

Startled, Lavaine shot to her feet, certain that they were going to be put to death by the big blond knight, but so far, he'd not made a move. He just stood there. Keats, on edge, slowly rose from his chair and faced the man.

"We were not conspiring," he told Amadeo. "We were simply discussing my daughter's welfare."

Amadeo walked into the room and closed the door behind him. "I know," he said, eyeing Lavaine as she cowered near the wall. "Come over here, lady. I am not here to harm you."

Lavaine was trembling as she walked towards them. Amadeo turned back to Keats.

"You are concerned for your daughter's welfare as I am concerned for my liege's," he said. "It seems that they are both quite smitten with each other, which is coming to be a disadvantage for the war machine of Jax de Velt."

Keats wasn't quite following him. "Did you come here to speak to me about Kellington?"

Amadeo nodded. "I came here to see if we could reach an understanding."

"And what is that?"

"Remove your daughter from Pelinom and you will both leave with your lives. Stay here and she dies."

"What?" Lavaine gasped. "What do you mean?"

Amadeo's normally even expression hardened as he looked at Keats. "Suffice it to say that for my own reasons, your daughter must be removed. I have watched for weeks as de Velt becomes more and more enamored with her. Did you know that he intends to marry her?"

Keats' face went red. "He'll have to kill me before I would allow it."

"He would kill you if you oppose him, have no doubt," Amadeo agreed. "And your daughter is proving to be such a strong influence over him that, sooner or later, I would be forced to eliminate her for the good of all of us. The men are already questioning de Velt's sanity as a result of the order to bury Pelinom's army. More and more, she commands and he obeys. It will soon reach a critical point."

Keats was shaken. "What do you mean?"

"Precisely that. Understand, Coleby, that de Velt's men have indentured themselves to him through promises of riches and conquest. De Velt has never gone back on his word. But your daughter has already exerted strong influence over him, so strong that I fear what she may ask of him next. If she asks him to cease the completion of his plans, then de Velt will have a rebellion on his hands. This I cannot allow. Jax has a plan he has carefully mapped out, something that had been coming to fruition for years. We are close to the end of that plan and I cannot allow your daughter to ruin it. Do you understand?"

Slowly, Keats nodded. "I do," he said. "You want what de Velt has promised you and you fear that Kellington will stand in the way of that."

"Exactly. So I therefore make you this offer: I will help you escape, but you must take your daughter with you. If she stays, I will kill her."

"And if I tell de Velt of your threat?"

"I will kill you tonight, in this room, and no one will ever find your corpse. Then I will kill your daughter and scatter her body to the winds."

Keats knew that he was deadly serious. He looked at Lavaine, near tears, and was regretful of the fact that she had to hear all of this. As he pondered the threat, he realized that he had little choice.

"What are you going to tell de Velt when he discovers that we're missing?" he asked. "If he is as smitten as you say he is, he will track us."

Amadeo had thought the matter through clearly. "I will tell them that you escaped and I will personally lead the search to recover you. He will be disappointed when I return empty handed, but he will not question me. Make sure you flee far enough away that there will never be any chance of de Velt finding you."

Keats drew in a long, contemplative breath. He was cornered. But in a sense, he was also glad. Removing Kellington from de Velt's presence was exactly what he wanted and this murderous knight was an unexpected gift.

"Very well," he agreed quietly. "But I would take Lavaine with us as well. I do not want to leave her behind."

Amadeo nodded crisply. "I will make the arrangements; there are others that feel as I do and are willing to assist. I will send someone to you on the morrow with further instructions. Be prepared to leave after the army pulls out of Pelinom."

Keats did nothing more than nod. Amadeo's gaze moved between the man and Lavaine before swiftly quitting the chamber. When he was gone, Lavaine turned to Keats.

"What are we going to do?" she was verging on panic. "He'll kill us if…"

Keats' jaw ticked as he put up a sharp hand to cut her off. "Return to your chamber and pack what things you need. Do not breathe a word of this to Kellington, do you understand? Not a word. I'll kill you myself if you do."

Lavaine nodded fearfully, wiping the tears from her cheek as she fled the room. Keats continued to stand there long after she was gone, wondering what manner of hell they were not preparing to face. Kellington would not be a willing participant if she was as smitten with de Velt as he had been told. It would make a quiet escape difficult. Keats therefore knew he was going to have to resort to a tactic he had never used with his daughter; to protect her life, he was going to have to play a difficult game.

In order to save his daughter, he was going to have to lie.