Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

T he riders approached the portcullis of Pelinom, shapeless black forms that shifted and danced under the moonlight. With a sliver moon, the landscape was virtually black. The sentries at the gate demanded the name of the riders three times before someone finally approached to confirm the reply. Only then did they open the recently repaired portcullis to allow the men entry.

The chargers were exhausted as they tramped into the mud and dirt of Pelinom's ward. The men dismounted stiffly, looking about the keep, the courtyard. It was virtually empty and they knew that de Velt's army had already left for their next conquest. Now it was important that they discover where the next conquest was.

The men wore cloaks with heavy hoods. The first hood was peeled back and then the second. Atreus le Velle and Tor de Barenton looked to the keep, four stories towering against the dark night sky. Atreus stared at the structure as he removed his gauntlets.

"The army is already gone," he said. "Amadeo must have gone with him; Jax would not leave him behind. That leaves either Michael or Caelen in charge of Pelinom."

"Whoever is in charge will know where he has gone," Tor replied; he was a tall man, broad, with an inherently gentle nature buried beneath the fierce warrior exterior. "Whatever you do, do not let on why you are asking."

Atreus shook his head. "I will not," he said evenly, moving for the stairs. "But first, we should ask where the lady is. Would you not think that would be the wise thing to do?"

Tor nodded, eyeing his cousin as he followed him to the steps. "I hope you are wrong about all of this."

"I hope I am too," Atreus replied. "But knowing Amadeo as I do, I cannot help but be suspicious. You will recall what happened to Mira."

Tor did indeed remember de Velt's wife; the story was that she had run away four years ago. But a few of Jax's inner circle suspected otherwise. There had been too many oddities, too many facts that did not make sense, and all of them with Amadeo in the middle of it. The man pretended to advocate for Jax but Atreus, and some others, did not trust him. He was possessive, ambitious and controlling.

The introduction of Lady Kellington a few days ago and Jax's adoration of the woman had brought about the familiar suspicion of Amadeo again. It had been enough to motivate Atreus and Tor into returning to Pelinom. Unlike Amadeo, their loyalty for Jax was not rooted in greed or ambition. They had known Jax a very long time and knew of his dark upbringing, the cruelty of his father. The man had never been truly happy but they saw a chance for him with Lady Kellington. And if they saw it, Amadeo saw it, too. That's where the problem lay.

"What are you going to tell Caelen or Michael?"

"I do not know yet. But whatever it is, go along with me."

They made their way into the keep. It was dark inside, smelling of smoke and ale. Not a sound could be heard except for faint snoring in the distance. Curious, Atreus and Tor walked into the great hall, dark and yawning and foreboding. The snoring was growing louder. They spied the source in Caelen, asleep with his head resting on the massive hall table. He was drooling all over the wood.

Atreus and Tor made their way over to Caelen. Tor poked the man in the back, to which he started violently. He grabbed his dagger and raised it as Atreus snapped at him.

"Stand down, man," he commanded. "Look who you are trying to kill first."

Caelen blinked his eyes, rubbing at them as if hardly believing the sight. "Atreus?" he said, catching sight of the second knight. "Tor? What are you doing here? You were destined for the Marches."

Atreus snatched the dagger in Caelen's hand and tossed it, embedding the blade in the table top several feet away. He plopped his armored body on the end of the table as Tor went to stand on Caelen's other side.

"Are you in charge?" Atreus asked.

Caelen nodded, rubbing the other eye. "Michael and Amadeo went with Jax."

"Where did he go?"

"White Crag Castle. 'Tis twelve miles to the south."

"When did they leave?"

"Three days ago," Caelen looked at the two men. "Why are you here? Is something amiss?"

Tor looked at Atreus, who was fixed on Caelen. "I must speak with de Velt personally," he said. "White Crag, did you say?"

"Aye."

Atreus nodded slowly, thoughtfully, looking around the hall as he did. "Where is Lady Kellington?" he asked casually.

Caelen hesitated, causing Atreus to look curiously at him. "Caelen," he said again, more deliberately. "Where is the lady?"

Caelen scratched his cheek. "She is not here. Her father took her away."

Atreus frowned. "Her father took her away? Where did he take her?"

Caelen sat back on the bench, eying the two knights. "Why should that be any concern of yours?"

"It is not. I was simply asking a question. Does Jax know her father took her away?"

Caelen scratched his cheek again and stood up. "Nay," he replied. "She left under Amadeo's order."

"Since when does Amadeo give orders?" Tor said from Caelen's other side. "Jax is to marry this woman. Why is Amadeo having her father take her away?"

Caelen was starting to become defensive. "All I know is that Amadeo told me to kill the woman if she did not leave with her father. Beyond that, I do not know anything else. Why do you ask?"

Tor eyed the knight; he was big and stupid and did not think for himself. He was one that could be easily influenced by someone as manipulative as Amadeo.

"No reason," Tor asked. "But where did the father take her?"

"To Alnwick."

"Northumberland?"

"Aye. He said he had to go and beg de Vesci's forgiveness for the fall of Pelinom."

Tor drew in a long, pensive breath, casting an intense glance at Atreus. The man was already well ahead of him, his thoughts rolling. He abruptly turned from the table and began pulling his gauntlets back on. Tor lumbered after him, as did Caelen.

"Where are you going?" Caelen demanded.

"I told you that I had business with de Velt," Atreus said. "Thank you for the information and your hospitality."

Caelen looked confused, trying to follow them down into the bailey but halted by Tor, who thumped him in the chest so hard that he actually flinched. The knight stood in the second floor entry to the keep, rubbing his sternum and watching Atreus and Tor mount their weary chargers and flee the bailey of Pelinom into the dead of night. As swiftly as they had arrived, they left.

It had been curious visit, Caelen thought as he turned away from darkened bailey. He wondered what sort of business Atreus had with de Velt that had him riding so far from his castle garrison in the Marches. Whatever it was, it certainly must be important.

Caelen went back to the great hall and drank himself into a stupor.

*

Kellington felt as if she was in prison all over again, only she could not count on Jax to appear and release her. All of this was a nightmare, she kept telling herself. Her father had not lied to her and Lavaine had not gone along with it. They hadn't really removed her from Pelinom and Jax's knights had not really threatened to kill her… had they? She sat against a dark wall, knees up against her chest and her face buried between them. Had it really been that easy for her father to remove her from Pelinom? Had she really been so gullible that she had believed him?

But he was her father. He had never lied to her before. He had always been a warm, wonderful man that she had loved dearly. So who was this man who had lied to her? Where had he come from? Worst of all, was it possible he was telling the truth and Jax's knights had really threatened to kill her because they believed she stood between them and their ambitions with Jax? It was a sickening thought. But the more she thought on it, the more foreboding she felt.

At some point, she fell asleep for when she heard the door latch move, she was laying on her side on the cold floor. Startled, she sat up, her eyes riveted to the door as it swung open.

The first face she saw was her father's; he was holding a lit taper and his expression was wary. There were people behind him but Kellington was only focused on her father.

"Are you calm enough that we might speak?" her father asked gently.

Kellington cast him a baleful look before turning away. "I have nothing to say to a man who lies to me."

Keats sighed and opened the door wider, allowing the people behind him to enter the room. From the corner of her eye, Kellington could see three distinct figures. Beyond that, she didn't care.

"Lady Kellington," a man with a voice she did not recognize spoke. "I am Gilbert de Vesci. I apologize that your welcome to Alnwick was so brutal. I hope you were not injured."

Kellington didn't reply. Her father cleared his throat. "Have you been robbed of your manners as well?" he demanded quietly.

Kellington paused deliberately before turning to look at the group; de Vesci was a short, meek-looking middle aged man dressed in fine silks. He seemed timid to be in the same room with her. Behind him, lingering in the shadows, stood a big knight. Kellington couldn't quite make him out.

"So you bring your bodyguard in with you?" she gestured at the warrior in the shadows. "Or is he to beat me if I do not give you the answers you seek?"

"Kelli," he father snapped softly. "Enough. You will apologize for your insolence."

She fixed her father in the eye. "I will apologize for my behavior if you will apologize for yours. Even then, I will not forgive you. I will never forgive you for what you have done."

De Vesci had been apprised of the situation with Pelinom and with Coleby's daughter. He may have appeared meek, but he had a calculating mind that moved swiftly. He took a seat near Kellington.

"My lady," he began quietly. "Your father has told me what happened at Pelinom. It must have been a traumatic experience for you."

Kellington eyed Keats. "Is that what my father told you?"

"He told me it was a vicious siege."

She thought on that a moment, feeling her guard come down somewhat. Exhaustion was threatening to overwhelm her at the moment. "Aye, it was," she said wearily. "It was bloody and traumatic and horrifying. It was hell."

De Vesci nodded knowingly. "That is because de Velt is bloody and traumatic and horrifying. I am sorry that you were exposed to such terror. Certainly not fitting for a proper young lady."

Kellington sensed they were up to something though she wasn't sure what it was. "I survived," she said. "And there is more to de Velt than what is said about him. Much more."

"So I understand," de Vesci said. "Your father tells me that de Velt wishes to marry you."

She nodded vigorously. "I know that his reputation brands him as a merciless killer. But I have seen far more to the man than that. He is kind, he is humorous, and he tries very hard to understand things that do not come easily to him."

"Like what?"

"Like compassion and mercy," she was becoming passionate about the conversation. "His father raised him to be the way he is. The man showed him no love, no kindness, only death and destruction. But that is not all Jax is; it is simply all that he knows. He wants to learn about the things in life that bring more fulfillment than murder and devastation. He wants to learn about love and happiness."

"And he wants you to teach him?"

"Of course he does. And he is learning quite well. He is a good student."

De Vesci cast a long look at Keats; the man's face was taut with emotion. To hear his daughter speak so about de Velt was making him ill. De Vesci returned his attention to Kellington.

"My lady," he said quietly. "I have been living under the threat of de Velt for four years. In fact, I gave him Foulburn Castle far to the north so that he would stay away from my holdings. That worked, for a time. But he went after Pelinom and, according to your father, rode from there three days ago en route to conquer yet another castle. Probably one of my holdings. And it will not stop there; it will never stop with de Velt. He will not be satisfied until he has all of the borders in a vise."

Kellington could not dispute that. "He is an ambitious man," she said simply. "I have told him that ambition and death do not have to go hand in hand. And he is not the only knight in England that goes about wreaking havoc."

"But he is the worst," de Vesci countered. "The king himself fears him."

"But I am telling you that he is not as the beast that everyone paints him out to be," she was trying to stress a point without becoming emotional. "The Jax de Velt I have come to know is, frankly, a delightful man. I adore him and he adores me. And I will marry him, mark my words."

Keats looked away; he couldn't take any more. De Vesci's small brown eyes were fixed on the lady; she certainly didn't look mad. But her words were pure insanity.

"Did de Velt tell you where he was going when he left Pelinom?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nay," she said honestly. "He would not tell me."

"Did he say when he would be back?"

She eyed her father, knowing she had already divulged that information. "He told me ten days."

De Vesci spoke over his shoulder to the knight still standing in the shadows. "Then he cannot have gone far," he said. "Denedor, which castles are within a two or three day ride of Pelinom?"

Sir Crosby Denedor stepped out of the shadows and into the light; he was a big man, older, with very blond hair and pale blue eyes. When he spoke, it was with a deep and steady voice. "I can think of four, my lord," he said. "Norham, White Crag, Caerleon and Covent Garden."

De Vesci scowled. "He would not dare try to take Covent Garden, would he?" it was a rhetorical question; he did not really expect an answer. "Only a madman would try to take that God-forsaken place. It's full of nuns that fight like men." He looked back at Kellington. "Are you sure you do not know where he went?"

"He would not tell me."

"If you knew, would you tell me?"

"No, my lord."

He grunted. "I cannot fault her for an honest answer." De Vesci had said all he wished to say and turned for the door. "Keats, stay with your daughter if you wish. We will speak more on Pelinom in the morning."

Keats had no intention of staying with Kellington at the moment; he couldn't stand to see the hate in her eyes for him and he frankly couldn't stomach looking at a woman who was in love with de Velt. He followed de Vesci and Denedor out into the hall. Denedor locked the door behind them and they continued down the corridor.

"We'll get nothing more out of her tonight," de Vesci said. "Perhaps I will send Denedor to speak with her on the morrow. He has a way with women."

Keats looked at de Vesci's captain. "I do not want her interrogated."

De Vesci waved him off. "I meant nothing of the sort. 'Tis simply that Denedor has more women admirers than he knows what to do with. Something about that Viking blood has women's hearts stirring."

De Vesci snorted while Denedor simply lifted an eyebrow. Keats didn't care about any of it.

"I know my daughter," he said. "She can be stubborn. If you are attempting to force her to tell you what she knows, she won't. She'll dig her heels in and you'll never get anything from her."

"She survived de Velt," Denedor said from behind the two men. "She must have strength."

Both Keats and de Vesci nodded, losing themselves in thought. Denedor spoke again.

"If I may make a suggestion, my lord," he said.

De Vesci nodded. "By all means."

Denedor opened his mouth to speak, faltered, then opened it again. "If what the lady says is true and de Velt really does want to marry her, then it would seem to me that we have an excellent situation on our hands."

"What do you mean?" De Vesci asked.

"What I mean is simple, my lord. We do not have to find de Velt at all. It doesn't matter where he has gone. We have his lady; once he finds out where she is, my suspicion is, if everything she said was true, that he will come to her."

De Vesci and Keats suddenly came to a halt.

"Of course," de Vesci hissed. "We lure him to us with Lady Kellington as bait."

Keats shook his head. "There may be a problem with that," he said. "If you recall, I told you that his knights conspired with me to remove her from Pelinom. Although they know where I have taken her, it is highly doubtful they will tell him. They do not want him to know."

"Then we send a messenger."

"His knights will kill the messenger before he gets close to de Velt."

"Then what would you suggest?"

Keats thought a moment. "It would seem to me that only a man who knows Pelinom and the surrounding land intimately would have any chance of contacting de Velt," he said. "His knights keep him insulated. Once he returns to Pelinom, there would be little chance of contacting him. It would seem to me that the only chance to speak with the man would be to intercept him as he returns to Pelinom. He must be met on the open road."

De Vesci looked at Keats. So did Denedor. Keats could read their minds and he shrugged weakly. "It would seem that I am the logical choice to deliver the message, though I doubt he would not sense a trap should I show a sudden change of heart. He surely suspects I will not allow him to marry my daughter."

"Then you will have to convince him otherwise to get him here."

"I do not know if I can. And his second in command is the one who conspired against him; I would be taking serious chances against that one. He is always at de Velt's side."

"Make your decision, Keats. Time is growing short. If he told your daughter he would return in ten days, then we have only six left."

Keats knew that. "It seems that I have little choice."

The plan was slowly taking shape. They traveled several feet in silence before Denedor spoke again.

"You are aware that de Velt has been married before," he said quietly.

Keats looked at him, shocked, but de Vesci simply nodded his head. "When I first gifted him with Foulburn. He was married to a woman he had brought with him from France, I was told."

"What happened to her?" Keats was terrified to ask.

Both de Vesci and Denedor shook their heads. "No one seems to know," Denedor said. "Some say she ran away. Some say that de Velt killed her in a rage. In any case, it is a big mystery. Perhaps you should tell your daughter. It might cause her to rethink her determination to marry the man. But I wouldn't tell her before we lay our trap."

Keats didn't say another word as they continued down the corridor and into the brisk night beyond.

*

White Crag had not been burned as Pelinom had been. For the most part, it was intact. As Jax stood on the wall walk watching the sun set on the day of his conquest, he felt a distinct sense of satisfaction. And an equally distinct sense of longing; he missed Kellington so strongly that it was manifesting itself as a physical pain in his chest. His arms ached to hold her, his lips to kiss her. He was almost coming to wish he had never left her. But the taking of White Crag had been planned and he would not deviate from those plans. It took him some time to realized, however, that this time, his heart simply wasn't in it. It was back at Pelinom with Kellington.

Amadeo mounted the battlements, searching for Jax along the parapet. He spied him several yards away and made his way over to him.

"The castle is secured for the night, my lord," he reported. "The family, with the exception of the oldest daughter, is in the vault."

Jax nodded, thinking of the Lady Anne up in her bower, holding a great secret. He wasn't even sure why he was concerned if his men found out the truth, only that he was. It would disrupt things. Already, he knew that they were having difficulty grasping his involvement with Lady Kellington. If they found out about the Lady Anne, they would not understand. Truth was, he wasn't sure he understood, either. All he knew was that he had left Lady Anne's chamber feeling more satisfied than he had in a very long time.

"And what about the eldest daughter?" Jax asked, his manner casual.

Amadeo shook his head, leaning against the parapet wall. "She's still in her room. From the way she was screaming earlier, I doubt she's in any condition to move down to the vault with the rest of her family. Unless, of course, that is your wish."

Jax scratched his ear under his mail hauberk. "Leave her. I may have need of her again."

Amadeo smirked, looking out over the dark landscape. "I almost feel sorry for the woman."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "You surely must have a good deal of pent-up frustration in the wake of Pelinom."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because of Lady Kellington. It seemed that she frustrated you a good deal."

Jax eyed him. "She did nothing of the kind."

"I apologize, then," Amadeo replied. "I meant no disrespect to you. I simply meant that she was headstrong and a headstrong woman can be most frustrating. From the way she behaved at times, I am frankly surprised that you never took your frustrations out on her."

Jax looked at him, full-on. "If you have something to say about Lady Kellington, be plain about it. But I would warn you; since I intend to marry the woman, you are speaking about my wife. I will not take kindly to negative or disrespectful comments."

Amadeo could hear it in his voice; he wasn't any closer to pushing the lady out of his mind as he had been the very moment he departed Pelinom and his disappointment returned. Amadeo began to think of the lady and her father, presumably miles away from Pelinom by now, never to be heard from again. He felt an odd sense of pleasure at that thought. Jax de Velt was only good in warfare when he was furious and bitter. It had worked well enough over the past four years. Now it would work well enough for the next four.

"Again, my apologies," Amadeo said quietly. "I have nothing negative to say about Lady Kellington. I was simply making conversation."

Jax sighed heavily. "I know you, Amadeo. You never say anything without a motive and although I cannot discern what your motive might be about Lady Kellington, I will tell you now that she is off-limits to you. You will not think about her or converse about her. I do not want her on your thoughts. She belongs to me and as such, is untouchable. She is above all else. Do I make myself abundantly clear?"

"You do, my lord."

"Good," Jax cast him a long glance as if to pound the subject home with his mere gaze. Satisfied that Amadeo did indeed comprehend, he moved on to the subject at hand. "Now, since White Crag is presumably secured, I would section off one hundred men to staff the garrison upon our departure. Leave the bodies of the soldiers up; I see no reason to bury them although I know we buried the army at Pelinom. Those were different circumstances. Tomorrow I will determine the wealth of this place and once we have finished securing what goods we can carry, we will move on to Caerleon to the southwest."

"White Crag has massive stores in the basements," Amadeo said. "I do not believe we can carry all of it."

"Then we'll carry what we can and move on," Jax replied. "Leave Michael here to command the post."

"As you wish, my lord."

Amadeo watched Jax as the man quit the wall walk and descended to the dark bailey. He continued to watch as he crossed to the keep and mounted the steps into the great hall. Amadeo turned back to the moonlit countryside, watching the glitter of the river in the distance, when he suddenly heard the screaming resume from Lady Anne's third floor bower.

He turned towards the sounds, smiling faintly in the weak moon light, pleased that Jax was once again brutalizing the woman. Whatever he was doing, it must be awful because the lady was screaming at the top of her lungs. It was a comforting sound and he returned to his post.

An hour later, Jax left Lady Anne's room with two newly purchased fur cloaks, what was left of her jewelry and a never-worn bronze gown straight from Amsterdam.

Anne was amassing quite a collection of gold coins from the Dark Lord.