It was valuable information.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Kelli?” there was a soft knock at the door and a familiar head poked its way inside. “May I come in, please?”
Kellington was sitting by the familiar lancet window that overlooked the rolling green land beyond Alnwick. It was evening and the sky was deepening shades of purple. She looked at Lavaine as the woman timidly stuck her head inside the door. Her first reaction was to shut the door in her face, but on second thought, she simply couldn’t maintain that level of anger much longer. It was draining. She sighed heavily and looked back to the window.
“I suppose,” she said. “What do you want?”
Lavaine entered, her big brown eyes anxious. “I wanted to see how you were faring,” she gestured weakly towards the door. “Sir Denedor let me in.”
Kellington lifted an eyebrow. “Is he guarding the door?”
“Aye. He’s not left it all day.”
Kellington looked at the woman she had once considered her best friend. She wasn’t sure she would ever feel that way again. Still, there was an odd comfort in seeing her.
“Where have you been?” she finally asked.
Lavaine still stood nervously near the door. “I have been in the family apartments with Lady de Vesci’s women,” she said. “They speak Celt so I cannot understand half of what they say.”
Kellington almost smiled, but not quite. “I have not met Lady de Vesci. I have not been let out of this room except to walk this morning with Denedor.”
“I know,” Lavaine said. “I saw you. I, too, was walking the grounds this morning. In fact, I wandered all over today. I got lost somewhere near the kitchens but managed to find my way back.”
Kellington nodded and the conversation fell into an uncomfortable silence. Kellington watched Lavaine fidget.
“Now you will tell me the truth,” Kellington lowered her voice. “Did you know my father intended to take me to Alnwick when we left Pelinom?”
Lavaine knew this topic would come up. She nodded miserably. “I did,” she whispered. “But it was for you own good. He had to. Amadeo threatened to kill you if you stayed.”
Kellington had a difficult time believing that, but in fairness, Jax and his knights were killers. They would think nothing of snuffing out a life and she truly had no idea how they functioned in their deep, dark world. Perhaps something like that was normal.
“You heard this?” she questioned.
“Aye.”
“With your own ears? There was no mistake?”
“Nay,” Lavaine shook her head. “Your father had no choice.”
Some of the hurt that Kellington had been feeling for the past day fled. Deep down, she knew that her father loved her and only wanted the best for her. She knew he had been doing what he thought was right by her. Still, it pained her to know that he would not listen to her where Jax was concerned. She still held out hope that she could convince the man of Jax’s honorable intentions.
“Then if that is truly the case, I owe my father an apology,” she said quietly.
Lavaine shrugged, feeling some of the tension drain from the room. “In fairness, I believe he wanted to take you from Pelinom anyway. Amadeo simply gave him assistance in the matter.”
Kellington wasn’t surprised to hear that. She knew as much. Moody, depressed, she turned back to the lancet window and Lavaine began to feel anxious again. She did not like it when she and Kellington quarreled, especially not now. Not when Trevan and their son were gone, and Kellington was all that she had. She began to wring her hands.
“Kelli,” she took timid steps towards her. “How can I make all things right between us?”
Kellington wouldn’t look at her. “I do not know.”
Lavaine grew more agitated. “Please believe that I never meant to hurt you. But I felt… that is, we all felt, that de Velt was not a suitable man for you. You must understand that we only meant to protect you.”
Kellington turned to her, then. “I am perfectly capable of determining who is suitable for me. I do not need you or my father dictating my life to such a degree.”
Lavaine looked miserable. “But he’s a killer, Kelli. He killed Trevan. How can you…?”
Kellington stood up, abruptly cutting her off. “I know what he did and I have been torn up inside about it. I do not know how it is possible for me to care for a man who did that Trevan, but I do. I do care for him and I am sorry and not sorry at the same time. All I can say is that what he did was the Dark Lord of old, the man we all feared and hated. But the man I’ve come to know over the past few weeks is different. He’s grown somehow. The Dark Lord who killed Trevan knew nothing different. But Jax de Velt does.”
“How can you be so sure?” Lavaine demanded weakly. “How can you know that he has changed? He’s the Dark Lord, for Heaven’s Sake; do you simply think he will forget all that he ever was to become a good and true husband to you? If you sincerely believe that, then I think you are foolish.”
“Then I am foolish,” Kellington snapped, her eyes flashing. “Is that why you came here? To tell me I am foolish?”
Lavaine’s pale face was flushed. “Nay,” she said, calming. “I came to tell you that I heard your father speaking to Denedor earlier.”
“What about?”
“You.”
“What did he say?”
Lavaine paused a moment, debating just how much to tell her. She decided on all of it, hoping it would ease things between them. That had been her purpose when she had walked into the room; it was still her purpose. If it would cause Kellington less hate against her, then she would divulge all she knew.
“He offered Denedor your hand if he would take you away from Alnwick,” she said quietly, knowing the man was on the other side of the door. “Denedor did not want to; he said you were still attached to de Velt and he did not want you to hate him if he were to marry you. But your father and the baron wore him down and told him if he did not take you, they would offer you to another. Only then did Denedor agree.”
Kellington’s eyes were wide. Stunned, it took her several moments to process the information, to understand that yet again her father was plotting against her. This time, he had pulled a stranger into the mix. Denedor was becoming part of her father’s desperation to separate her from Jax.
“So… so I am betrothed to Denedor?” she asked haltingly.
Lavaine nodded. “He did not want to, Kelli. But your father and the baron were very forceful.”
Kellington thought on the big blond knight outside her door. After a moment, she closed her eyes, ill at the thought of marrying someone other than Jax. Not that Denedor did not seem like a kind and decent man; her heart simply did not belong to him.
“Then they are using him as a pawn just as they are using me,” she murmured. “Poor Denedor. It seems so unfair.”
“But there is more,” Lavaine came closer to her. “I heard them say that your father was riding to intercept Jax and that they were going to lay a trap for him.”
“What?” Kellington bolted out of her chair. “What else did they say?”
Lavaine was back to wringing her hands as if to pull her fingers off. “They spoke of subduing him when he was in their trap. That is all I heard, Kelli, honestly. I do not know how they intend to trap him.”
As Kellington stared at the woman, a horrible thought suddenly came to her. It seemed the most logical of things, something that came to her with hardly an effort. Her hand flew to her mouth as if to stifle the scream on her lips.
“I do,” she breathed. “My God, I know how they intend to do it.”
“How?”
Kellington turned away, hand still at her mouth, eyes wide as a horrible realization dawned. There could be no other answer.
“In order to trap him, they must have bait,” she turned to Lavaine. “I would assume that I am to be used as that bait.”
Lavaine shook her head. “But I heard your father tell Denedor that he had
to have you on a ship tomorrow night. You will not be at Alnwick. How are they going to use you as bait to lure de Velt?”
Kellington almost cried when she thought of the logical answer. “My father,” she whispered. “He will tell Jax I am at Alnwick and Jax will believe him. My father will use the same lies on Jax as he used on me; he will tell him that he has agreed to our marriage and will encourage Jax to come to Alnwick. And then… then they will spring the trap.”
Lavaine wasn’t as horrified as Kellington was by the thought. The man had murdered her husband and child; she was secretly glad that he would be capture and made to pay for his crimes.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
Kellington shrugged. “As sure as I can be without asking him.”
“What are you going to do?”
There was a long pause. Kellington sighed softly, a thousand thoughts rolling through her head.
“I cannot let them do this to Jax,” she murmured, looking to Lavaine. “Did they say where my father intends to find him?”
“Nay,” Lavaine shook her head. “He only said that he was to intercept him.”
Kellington’s mind began to work. “Then there is only one answer.”
“What is that?”
“I must follow my father.”
Lavaine’s eyes widened. “How do you intend to do that?”
Kellington looked at her friend; her steely expression was devoid of emotion.
“You are going to help me.”
Lavaine spent the night in Kellington’s room.
*
On a battle march, Jax’s men could push forty miles from sunrise to sunset. Having left White Crag nearly thirteen hours prior, they had covered a little over forty miles. The two hour rest in the trees had eased the men somewhat, but Jax would not wait and had them roused and on the road in the middle of the night. They had at least another twenty miles to go and he was anxious to reach Alnwick by the afternoon. If negotiations failed and there was a siege to be had, then he wanted to commence it at sundown. That was Jax’s preferred time of the day to begin battle. It was the warring time.
The men were excited at the prospect of gaining spoils from Alnwick, which contributed to their willingness to quicken their pace. The great provisions wagons lumbered behind the army, pulled by big draft horses, and the two enormous siege engines creaked and groaned their way to the rear, pulled by a herd of massive horses and a few oxen. But the oxen did not move as quickly as the horses and the beast masters had to maintain a steady whip to the flank to ensure the animals kept pace. It was driven chaos at its finest.
Dawn was still two hours away as Jax, Atreus and Tor rode at the head of the column. The path they had traveled cut north from White Crag and skirted the northern edge of the massive forest that constituted much of Northumberland’s territory before cutting southeast towards the coast. It was wild country but it was the fastest way to get to Alnwick. Jax was, if nothing else, a master navigator and often traveled at night to use the stars. He was never wrong. At the rate they were traveling, he estimated their arrival at Alnwick a few hours after sunrise.
When the army finally began to veer away from the edge of the forest, Jax knew that they were in their last leg of travel to Alnwick. He could feel his excitement and fury rise, knowing with every step that he was growing closer to Kellington and closer to those who would keep her from him. Atreus finally broke the silence they had held for many miles.
“Have you decided which tactic to take when we finally reach Alnwick, my lord?” he asked.
Jax did not raise his visor as he spoke. “I believe we discussed this already.”
“We did, but I am asking for details. Tor and I must know what tactic you plan to follow so that we many direct the men accordingly.”
Jax remained silent a moment, the breath from his lowered visor escaping in big puffy clouds in the chill night air.
“Once we arrive and determine the weak points in their defense, we will set the engines up accordingly,” he said. “I have seen the castle before. It is a massive place with massive walls and will not be easily breached.”
“But…,” Atreus looked distressed. “I thought we discussed the fact that negotiations might be the best course of action given the circumstances.”
Jax nodded patiently. “And I will negotiate before the first arrow is hurled. But I will have my army prepared to attack before I initiate dialogue.”
That satisfied Atreus but not Tor. He had not been a part of the negotiations discussion earlier and was frankly surprised. The de Velt he knew would rather fight than parley and it was his turn to be distressed.
“But… my lord, the men will expect some spoils from this siege,” he said as if the man should already be aware of this well established fact. “What are you going to negotiate for?”
“Lady Kellington.”
Tor and Atreus passed knowing glances and Tor finally understood. “I see,” he replied quietly. But it did not change the army’s expectations. “Even so, the men will expect some booty from this place. That is the only way we have been able to convince them to maintain this grueling pace. Alnwick is a great prize.”
Jax knew that; it was the way he had trained his men. Work hard and receive rewards. His reward would be Kellington. But his men needed motivation also. He turned his great helmed head in the direction of Tor and Atreus, lifting his visor as he did so.
“I will make no promises to that regard,” he said. “After today, a great many things may change for us.”
“What do you mean?” Tor asked.
Jax’s dual-colored gaze moved to Atreus as he spoke. “Because I may have to give up a great deal in order to reclaim the lady. I do not know what assets I will have at the end of this day so I cannot make any promises to the men.”
Tor thought on that a moment. “You can promise anything,” he said in a low voice. “But to execute that promise is another matter altogether.”
Jax nodded, frustration suddenly in his manner. “I have been thinking the same thing. I can promise Northumberland the return of everything I have captured, but that does not necessarily mean I will keep my promise.”
“If you do not, no one will ever negotiate with you again,” Atreus put in. “You have always been known to be a man of your word. It is as solid as gold. Would you destroy that reputation?”
Jax was silent a moment. “I am not sure my future wife would respect a man who went back on his word,” his gaze flicked up to his men as if embarrassed to look them in the eye. “Her respect means a great deal to me. Although I have been thinking on going back on my word, I do not suppose that I could. What little honor I have is anchored in the validity of my promises.”
Tor puffed out his cheeks and looked away, sensing the dilemma. Not that he disagreed with Atreus; Jax de Velt had always been known as a man of his word. If he said it, he would do it.
“But what about the men?” Tor wanted to know.
Jax was silent a moment, thinking of the retainers sworn to him, men that were nearly as hard as he was. They were thieves and murderers and expected to be rewarded well; their loyalty was only as good as Jax’s promises to them. He was no fool; he knew that. Mercenaries were a fickle lot. They could very well turn on him if displeased and he needed them for what he must accomplish.
“I may end up giving back Pelinom, White Crag, Norham and even Foulburn in exchange for Kellington,” he said pensively. “But that does not mean I will not raze Alnwick in vengeance. Once I have Kellington back, we will let loose on Alnwick. Her, and her spoils, will be their reward.”
Tor nodded as calmly as if they were discussing the weather, but Atreus was still dubious. It was important that Jax not make any promises he did not intend to keep.
“What if the baron asks you to spare Alnwick in the course of the negotiations,” he pressed. “What will you do?”
“I will not make that promise.” He suddenly smacked his balled fist against his armored thigh, causing the
chargers to start. “Damnation, Atreus, I will not let this go unpunished. I will get the lady back any way I must and when I am finished with Alnwick, I will send for more men from my holdings in France. With two thousand men, I will storm the north and claim more than I ever have. De Vesci and Coleby will rue the day they decided to keep Kellington from me. I will crush what is left of Northumberland and take a slice out of Cumbria, mark my words.”
There was controlled rage to his declaration, reined power behind his words. It was mesmerizing to watch him speak sometimes; there was such force behind it. Tor’s eyes glittered; he was, at heart, a mercenary and he knew de Velt meant every last destructive word. He knew they would have their own kingdom soon, a slice of England, Scotland and Wales that de Velt and his generals would control. No one would be able to touch them.
Atreus knew it, too. His voice was soft, questioning, as he spoke. “What do you intend to do with de Vesci and Coleby should we take Alnwick?”
Jax looked at him, the two-colored eyes wild and animalistic in the weak light from the approaching dawn. It was a legitimate question, one for which he was struggling for an answer. He had been struggling with it since their march began.
“De Vesci will follow the usual path of our enemies,” he said quietly. “But Coleby… I must tread carefully.
“You cannot kill him.”
“I know. But he will pay nonetheless.”
Atreus didn’t say any more. Jax was edgy at the moment and he did not want to provoke the man. There was so much on his mind, so much turmoil in his heart, that it was difficult to know what he was thinking much less feeling. For the first time in his life, Jax de Velt was struggling with his conscience. Atreus knew it even if Jax did not.
In silence, they headed in the direction of the coming dawn, watching the sky turn shades of lavender and pink, each to own thoughts, each wondering what the day would bring.
None more so than Jax.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The gown was medium blue cotton fabric that the merchant in Carlisle had told her had been produced in Arabia. Her father had bought it for her, even though he hadn’t believed the man. But it was well made material nonetheless. Matilda and Lavaine had sewed it into a garment that emphasized Kellington’s petite, womanly figure to a delicious fault.