She took so many things away from Milo, the thought of destroying his manhood further by taking control of his men wasn’t right.
Juden looked disgusted. “Given what you have said, I take it the reason the surrounding defense wall is in shambles and the towers are leaning is due to Milo’s lack of direction.”
Saxby nodded.
Juden blew out air. He turned to Selwyn. “Find out who is the First-in-Command and those who report to him directly. Relieve them of their duties and assign new positions. I want the wall rebuilt with stone instead of wood, impenetrable, and with haste. If one stone is misplaced, you will have the lazy lot tear it down and rebuild it until ‘tis sturdy.”
“Aye, Juden.” Selwyn nodded.
“Kerr, you will gather enough able bodies to repair the trenches, and have fresh water flowing within a couple of days. I would start with the men I viewed with flab and tits, as girth denotes indolence. Men like that are useless to me.”
Saxby could tell Juden was offended.
“I will see to it immediately, Juden.”
Juden continued to give orders, ticking off his wishes and instructions methodically, as if he had a detailed list inside his head. He had only to arrive, yet, she saw he made a swift and accurate assessment of the poor state of Dandelion. Having created a list for Milo a year ago, and from what she could tell Juden missed nothing.
Priest Manner leaned forward to gain Juden’s ear. “The chapel is in need of repairs also. The wind howls through the holes in the roof. What are your intentions concerning my quarters?”
Juden responded short and clipped. “None.”
“Oslei frowns upon those who do not covet his house.”
“‘Tis Oslei’s responsibility to manage his dwelling and those who reside there, whilst Dandelion is my priority at the moment,” Juden said. End of discussion.
“Jilst, your responsibility is to be a ghost. Understand?”
Jilst nodded.
Saxby wondered to the secretive communication. Juden spoke with Jilst, saying a lot, revealing nothing, and his guard seemed to understand everything he communicated. It was obvious Juden and his men shared the ability to know each other’s thoughts. Not to the point they could read minds, more so they acted like two people so tuned with each other they could finish each other’s sentence. Before her mother died, she and her father used to do the same thing. It was time together, knowing each other, and the uncanny knack of familiarity.
She possessed a decent amount of intuition herself. Juden didn’t say as much, the snippet of conversation revealed Jilst’s task involved her. Was he to shadow her every step? If so, she deserved to know why, and planned to question Juden on it later.
Carline’s attention bothered Saxby. The dark circles and puffiness underneath her eyes, hinted at the amount of fatigue she may be experiencing, due to the hectic schedule she knew Megatha required the girl maintain. Like her, Carline worked from sunrise to sunset, doing laborious tasks, and performed like a servant to keep the interior cleansed and free of infestation. In addition, Carline catered to Megatha’s demanding frivolous whims. She leaned over and patted Carline’s hand. “Are you not well?”
“I’m fine, please, do not worry about me.”
Saxby doubted such. Carline appeared so weary she might fall over if poked in the arm. “Perhaps you should take to your bed early this evening and rest.”
Megatha stiffened. “You are mistress of Dandelion,” she said with disdain. “You have no authority over how I rear my child. Carline will remain at the table until she is given permission to leave.”
Saxby throttled her temper. “Lady Megatha, I’m asking you to be considerate and remember the fever has taken many lives in the Northern Territory and should be taken seriously. This may not be the case as far as any of us know, however, I believe caution is warranted in this instance until Rashma can validate Carline does not have the rash and infect us all. Show some leniency.”
Megatha’s tone was indifferent. “Prayer is the Healer’s tool. I suspect a few extra hours on her knees will right whatever is wrong with her.”
The woman was impossible. As much as she wanted to debate with Megatha, she refused to lower herself to bickering level. It would only distress her and bring further wrath down on Carline’s head.
It surprised her when Juden spoke. He remained silent, listened, and didn’t seemed inclined to interfere, until now. “Carline, you will seek your bed and have Rashma examine you to ensure you are without fever.”
Carline glanced at Megatha, nervously.
“That was not a suggestion, Carline,” Juden said.
Megatha’s mouth dropped. She sputtered, turning a peculiar hue of red, saying defensively. “How dare you interfere?”
Juden did not respond.
Carline scooted back from the table and made a hasty retreat.
Priest Manner’s voice boomed in the room and sung with holy rhetoric. “Oslei teaches us that a child shall regard his parent rearing as law. To disregards such, brings spoilage and the child commits a sin.”
“So ‘tis said,” Megatha said.
Saxby ignored them both, giving Juden a look that said, “Thank you.” Deep inside she ached to gloat because Juden sided with her, it was an unlady-like mannerism, so she shelved the temptation and privately enjoyed seeing Megatha seethe at having her hands tied by Juden.
Juden reminded her of an eye of a storm who had entered Dandelion with a force of nature, and systematically worked changing the dynamics by his mere presence. A man of few words and mostly action, authority seeped from his pores and demanded attention, and she wondered if Milo realized what he did by bringing the fierce gale into their lives and home.
Saxby watched Juden under the cover of her lashes. Milo’s directive and Juden’s intentions did not mesh. She was clueless about Juden’s motives, wrong, right, or indifferent, only knowing Milo’s attempt to treat him as a puppet was impossible.
She only wished she knew Juden’s intentions for now, later, or them.
Them. Why had that thought surfaced? It would be foolish to consider Juden was at Dandelion for any reason other than to get her with child. After he did the deed, she believed he would leave as swift as his arrival, and if she were lucky she would survive unscathed, physically and emotionally.
Stop it Saxby. Emotions did not come into play with Juden. She chided herself for the whimsical folly. With a renewed outlook, she forced the truth of the matter to the forefront of her mind. Her time with Juden had been a moment of lust, wantonness, and the biggest betrayal to Milo.
“Lady Saxby?” Juden said.
Saxby batted her eyes, and gave Juden an owlish stare. “Excuse me?” What had he said? Emerged in her own thoughts, it was possible she missed some of the conversation. Even now, staring directly at Juden her mind wondered wickedly. She trembled as memories of him naked, his touch, scent…
How did she fall so hard and fast? Juden VanZandt is simply a man and not some elixir with transformation powers.
Saxby deflated. Whom was she kidding? Juden was as potent as wine in her cup, she thought eyeing him and raised the goblet to sip.
Juden grabbed her wrist. “The wine is poisoned,” he said, calmly.
Megatha shrieked and tossed her cup to the floor as if it hissed and slithered.
Priest Manner stared as if he saw a tail and horns swirl around in the liquid.
“Milo!” Saxby jumped to her feet and raced from the room.
Chapter 11
Milo was dead.
Saxby paused in the doorway, stunned, seeing his lifeless body sprawled over the bed. She knew this day might come and thought she mentally prepared herself. Can you ever plan for something like this? The thought made her solemn. “Oh, Milo…”
When Juden entered the room, Saxby informed him they were too late. “He is dead,” she said softly. Juden took one look at Milo and walked over to the bed. The energy around Milo glowed faintly, and he detected the sligh
t rise and fall of his brother’s chest. He grabbed Milo by his shirt, reared back, and slapped him hard.
Saxby inhaled sharply. “What are you doing?”
“He has not succumbed.. He will be if I don’t do something. He is close to unconsciousness and might die if whatever he ingested isn’t purged. If he can expel as much of the poison as possible he might have a chance.”
Startled, Saxby hurried into the room and shot pass Juden, almost knocking him down. She bumped into him, but he maintained his balance effortlessly. She glanced at Milo, sighed with relief. “Rashma is the closest we have to a healer.”
“Go and fetch her,” Juden said. He tried to shake Milo to respond. He looked over his shoulder at her. “Now, Saxby, move,” he snapped.
Saxby raced from the room to find Rashma now that time was of the essence. Her husband’s life depended on it.
She wasn’t sure how she made it to the end of the compound and back in record time with Rashma by her side. Quickly, they entered Milo’s chambers, and she balanced the tray of items needed in one arm, while practically dragging the elderly woman by the hand.
She ushered Rashma to the bedside, and stood there until Juden moved her back to allow the woman to work unhampered. He towered over them both, his nearness radiating heat and made her more aware of his commanding presence.
She snapped herself back to the present. “We must hurry.”
Rashma worked methodically adding a pinch of root, salt, and herbs to liquid in a container that caused a fizzing reaction the sent an acrid odor into the room, so smelly she wanted to retch.
“Sovereign, if you please,” Rashma said. She motioned for Juden to assist holding Milo into a sitting position. He tilted back his head, pinched his nose until his mouth opened, and then Rashma poured the potion down his throat.
Milo sputtered, spitting out the mixture, and then groaned pitifully before his body shuddered. He heaved, and emptied the contents in his stomach. Saxby stood by, ready with a basin, she watched as Milo continued to vomit until only dry heaves made his body shiver. Sweat broke out on his face, and she wiped it away with a damp cloth, and then pressed a fresh wet towel to his forehead.
Finally, blessedly, Milo opened his eyes. They were glossy, his cheeks flushed, and he continued to shake. His breath seemed normal and coherent.
Saxby’s heart swelled with emotion seeing him try and manage a smile. “I thought you were dead,” she said quietly.
“Disappointed, wife?”
“I do not find your idea of a joke humorous.”Saxby said tight-lipped, clearly put off by his insensitive comment. “Let’s get you cleaned up and comfortable.” She started washing the spittle from his lips, cheek, and the spillage running down onto his nightshirt.
“My Lady, allow me to assist,” Rashma said, stepping forward.
Saxby gently shooed her away. “Thank you, Rashma. You have done enough and have my gratitude. Now, please, go to your bed and rest. I will finish up here.”
Rashma stepped back, and bowed her head. “If that it is your wish, Lady.” She turned to Juden and bowed her head. “Sovereign.”
Saxby watched Rashma leave wondering as to why she recognized Juden in such a manner, as if he were royalty. She pondered the thought while tending to Milo, wanting to ask Juden all the questions inside her head, but decided to put it aside until later. Milo needed her.
“After I get you bathed, change the bedding, and make you more comfortable you will feel much better,” Saxby said.
Juden stepped forward. “Why did you not allow the elder to help you with this menial task?”
Saxby began removing the top cover, pillowcases, working around Milo. She glanced at Juden, saying, “Rashma is aged and not well. I don’t care to overtax her with an additional chore when I already roused her from bed. Besides, I always tend to Milo myself.”
“Ah, Saxby is an endearing and obedient wife. So unselfish, she does as I request and not once disagreed or argued with me. No matter how, ah, shall we say, distasteful she may find my demands…there is no resentment. Isn’t that true, wife?” Milo said in a muffled voice.
“Of course, Milo, you are my lord and husband. ‘Tis my position to do as you request.”
“You see, Juden, she is as willing as a concubine.”
Saxby flinched at the cruel reference. She noticed the underlining hint of sarcasm and taunting in Milo’s tone. Nervously, she looked at Juden to gage his reaction. He stood expressionless and merely stared back at her.
Feeling embarrassed by Milo’s nasty retort, she submerged herself in what she was doing to keep from thinking about why her husband sought to humiliate her in front of Juden. After all, Milo was the reason she did these things. Self-conscious, she wondered how much Milo told Juden about the strangers. What did Juden know?
Wanting to think pass Milo’s spiteful remark, she tried to concentrate on other matters. “Why did Rashma refer to you as a Sovereign?” she asked, wrestling with the last of the sheets, she tried to make idle chitchat to keep from running from the room in shame.
Juden stood with his legs spread, arms clasped behind his back, and watched her. “A Sovereign is a ruler of people, like your King.” Saxby glanced up at him, realizing his response was intentionally evasive. She gave him a pointed look. “I know such. You understood my question perfectly. ” Juden merely gazed at her with an unwavering stare. She knew he wasn’t going to answer the question. “Do you mind?” She tugged at the covers beneath Milo.
Juden stepped forward and effortlessly lifted Milo from the bed and sat him down in a chair.
“He can’t sit by…” She was about to tell Juden Milo couldn’t manage the seat by himself when she looked up to see him sitting without aide. His knees bent, feet planted solidly on the floor, and he didn’t slip and slide to the floor limply as he did when she tried to get him to sit unaided. For a brief moment, she stared baffled by Milo’s sudden ability to control his body. Milo met her quizzical gaze, a slight lift to his lips. He knew what she thought—was he gaining strength?—it seemed to amuse him.
“Oh, Juden has not shared his heritage with you,” Milo said gleefully. He eyed Juden. “I would have thought you two would have discussed much by now…during your time alone.” It was an underhanded slur, and Saxby knew it.
“Juden is not as talkative as you believe,” Saxby offered. She busied herself with the bedding to keep from screaming at Milo about his disrespectful, insulting, and not to mention childish behavior. She bit her tongue hard to keep silent.
“Mmm, I imagine he was too busy doing other things.” Milo’s barb hit hard.
Saxby forced a smile to her lips. “In fact, Juden has been extremely occupied with managing the repairs for Dandelion. When you see what he has accomplished, I think you will be pleased.”
Milo’s eyes darkened. He slewed his eyes at Juden, and then focused on Saxby. He opened his mouth to give her a sharp retort when Juden moved forward, closer to the bed, and sat a scolding gaze on Milo. He didn’t say a word, she noticed Juden’s eyes turned hard, nostrils flared, and the tips of his canines showed.
Sasha and Rogue reacted in the same way when giving a warning.
Milo shifted uncomfortably, avoided direct eye contact with Juden. He uttered, saying, “Juden did not tell you his mother was a Vampress, daughter to Sovereign Lucif VanZandt? In the eyes of variants she was considered royalty,” he said, testily. She saw the ideal of it made Milo bitter.
The tension between Milo and Juden could have sparked the hearth to full flames.
“Do you mind sitting with Milo a moment? I need to get clean bedding.” Saxby left the room before either could protest. She saw it on their faces. Maybe if the two shared time alone they could mend whatever incivility lay between them. A few minutes probably wouldn’t suffice to mend the gaping sinkhole that separated the two, but, perhaps, it would be a start, if Oslei favored her prayers. Saxby frowned. If not, when she returned she might find Juden at Milo’s throat for his earli
er remarks.
Saxby dallied longer than necessary to give Juden and Milo time to converse and herself a minute to collect her thoughts while she tried to decipher through her feelings divided between feeling sorry for Milo and angry at him for acting churlish. She considered being on death’s door aided Milo’s ugly disposition, and she supposed she had to give him a pass. On the other hand, Juden was another matter, and commonsense told her Juden’s poised eloquence in handling Milo was short-lived. A few more jabs from Milo, and she suspected the mild temperament he displayed would manifest into the dangerous persona he kept on a tight leash. The moment she encountered Juden she sensed an innate nature of intolerance, as vicious as a thunderstorm and twice as destructive if released. He would eventually retaliate against Milo.
The thought of Milo and Juden coming to blows made her head throb. Trying to calm the two of them would be worse than managing ill-disciplined boys determined to squabble. If she had any sense she would ask Milo to send Juden away, and maybe then normalcy would return to her life. She should request this of Milo. She had to. So, why did she easily dismiss the thought as asinine? Perhaps the ideal of returning to the mundane existence she’d lived for this long didn’t appeal to her. Selfishly, she knew this was true, and a twig of guilt surfaced. She wanted Milo to calm down, but not as much as she wanted Juden to remain at Dandelion. Saxby waved the thought away as inconsequential to ease her conscience.
Milo insisted in having Juden come to their home even though she had begged him not to. As far as she was concerned, she did her part, and now it was her husband’s responsibility to handle Juden. That he could not wasn’t her affair, and she refused to take any accountability in dealing with the matter.
Milo had made his bed, so to speak, and now he had to lay in it and face the consequences of his actions.
She wasn’t totally insensitive, and vowed to pray extra hard that Milo and Juden would come to some sort of civility before their dissension became irreparable.
Chapter 12
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