The Du Lac Devil: Book 2 of The Du Lac Chronicles

by Mary Yarde

  The baby turned his face to glower at his father instead. Tanick raised his chubby hand and tried to pinch his father’s nose. Merton grabbed the little hand and the boy giggled. “When’s the funeral?” he asked as his little boy tried to grab his nose again.

  “Tomorrow. No, today. I mean today,” Alden said, chuckling at the antics of the child. “I can’t believe you are a father.”

  “These things happen,” Merton said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Take him back please, Emma.” Merton spoke in Saxon and Emma took the child from him.

  “Is he keeping vigil?” Merton asked, addressing Alden once again.

  “Yes. He is a mess. I have never seen him like this,” Alden confessed.

  “Have you spoken to him?”

  Alden barked a laugh. “Of course not. I think we have said all we needed to say the last time we saw each other.”

  “Happy families,” Merton said, raising his eyebrows.

  “You need to keep him out of sight,” Alden advised, his eyes drawn back to Merton’s boy. “It isn’t safe for him here.”

  “It isn’t safe for any of us here. Remember the letter?” Merton asked. There had been a letter, left on Merton’s bed many years ago, telling him and Alden to go and never to return. They had sworn they would not. But here they both were.

  “Yes. I haven’t forgotten. Where are you heading?” There were so many other questions that Alden wanted to ask, but he knew Merton would tell him everything he wanted to know in his own time.

  “Hopefully Cerniw, that’s if her king will accept a band of no-hopers.”

  “I think her king might be persuaded,” Alden said, pulling Merton into an embrace again. “It’s so good to see you,” he said, holding on to his brother a little bit tighter.

  10

  “I am sorry for your loss, I truly am,” Merton said, turning away from the coffin and looking down at his brother who was still clutching Josephine’s hand tightly. Josephine visibly tensed at his words, but there was nothing he could do about that. He didn’t want to be in her company any more than she wanted to be in his.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Budic ground out between his teeth, raising his head and looking at his youngest brother with contempt. “You are on Holy Ground, and you defile it with your very presence. You are not my brother. My brother is dead.”

  “Come on,” Alden said, stepping forward and taking Merton by the arm before things got out of hand. “Let’s go.”

  “I am sorry anyway,” Merton answered, his eyes not leaving Budic’s. “She was a good person.”

  “Don’t you dare come to Mass,” Budic spat. “I’ll not have her soul corrupted by you.”

  Alden sucked in a breath at Budic’s words, and he tugged on Merton’s arm.

  “If that is what you want, then I will stay away,” Merton answered. “I didn’t come here to fight, Budic.”

  “Leave then, because if you stay a fight is what you will get,” Budic stated, tearing his gaze away from his brother.

  Merton nodded his head in understanding and this time, he let Alden lead him away. They didn’t get far before a young monk came to stand in front of them, blocking their path. His face still looked like that of a child, and his countenance was delicate, but there was a determination in his brown eyes as strong as any steel blade. In his hand, he held a rough wooden crucifix, which he thrust forward towards Merton.

  “Oh for the love of-” Alden bit his tongue, for it would not do to swear in front of a Holy Man. “He isn’t a threat, and he isn’t what everyone says he is,” Alden shook his head in disgust. “He just came to pay his respects and all of you treat him like a leper.” He looked around and saw the other monks watching them. The Abbot glared at them with narrowed eyes, and his lips were moving in a silent prayer. Alden guessed it was some sort of prayer for protection.

  “It’s all right,” Merton said. “I haven’t been welcome inside a church for a long time.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend,” the monk said with compassion. “I simply wanted you to have this,” he handed the crucifix to Merton. “There is always a way back. Remember, Jesus looks for the lost sheep, not the ones who are all ready part of the congregation.”

  Merton took the cross and rubbed his fingers lightly over the rough wood. “Thank you,” he said, raising his eyes to look at the boy. It was unusual for a man of the cloth to speak to him, they all feared the demon inside him would jump out and devour them whole. “What’s your name?”

  “Sampson,” the boy replied instantly. “It is never too late to repent,” he continued, unperturbed at speaking to one who was so actively shunned. “Forgiveness is given to those who seek it.”

  Merton looked back towards his brother. Budic had slumped in the chair, his head in his hands. Merton’s grey eyes clashed with Josephine’s blue ones, and the memory of a past love swept over him. He made himself look away. Some things were better forgotten. “Maybe Jesus should concentrate on the sheep that willingly follow him and leave the rest of us to the wolves.” He handed the crucifix back. “I don’t want it,” he added quietly.

  The boy shook his head in disagreement. “You don’t understand. I can rid you of the demon inside. I know how to make them leave your body,” he spoke with confidence, his eyes sparkling with determination.

  “Practice your skills on someone else,” Merton replied. “But thank you for the offer,” he added when he saw the disappointment in the boy’s eyes. “I do not deserve or want absolution.”

  “We need to go, come on,” Alden stated, it was bad enough hearing the rumours of what Merton had become, he would not stand and listen to his brother condemn himself as well.

  The boy watched them leave.

  “There are some demons that are too powerful, even for you,” the Abbot said, placing his hand on the boy’s thin shoulder. “Stay away from Merton du Lac.”

  “He needs my help,” the monk argued. “I thought it was our responsibility to bring the word of God to everyone, regardless of what they have done. Does that not apply to him?”

  “He knows the word of God, but he has chosen to ignore it and now we must ignore him. You can not save everyone.” The Abbot squeezed his shoulder and then walked back towards the coffin.

  “I will save you, Merton du Lac,” Sampson whispered the promise. “As God is my witness, I will.”

  Merton kept his own council as he followed Alden through the quiet, but cold castle. Benwick Castle was renowned for two things: number one — it was impregnable — and number two — no matter what the season, the cold would seep into your bones and if you let it, freeze your heart.

  “I guess I shouldn’t be here either,” Merton said awkwardly as they came to stand outside of Alden’s chamber.

  “Budic is grieving, and he isn’t thinking rationally. I am sure he didn’t mean it.”

  “Oh, he meant it. We both know that he did. I should be grateful, at least Budic doesn’t beat around the bush — he always comes straight to the point.”

  “You won’t receive any false flattery from him, that is for sure. Budic, unfortunately, is controlled by his temper. He always has been, and he always will be. He will never change, no matter how much we all may wish it. One day, I foresee, that his temper will be his undoing.”

  “When did they start calling you Isaiah?” Merton quizzed good-naturedly.

  “Isaiah?” Alden queried with a frown, not understanding.

  “You seemed to have developed the gift of prophecy.” Merton lowered his voice in a poor imitation of his brother, “one day it will be his undoing.”

  “It wasn’t a prophecy and well you know it. And,” Alden lowered his voice in an attempt to imitate Merton’s dismal impression, “I do not sound like that.”

  “You do a bit,” Merton argued.

  Alden pulled a face at him. “Ladies first…” he said with an elegant wave of his hand as he opened the door to his chamber.

  Merton laughed. “The last time I dressed up as
a woman I was trying to break Yrre out of prison. I was pretty convincing,” he fluttered his eyelashes at Alden and did his best to look coy.

  “You broke into a prison dressed as a woman?” Alden had thought there was nothing his brother could say that would surprise him. But this was certainly not expected.

  “A woman of ill-repute would be a better description. Yrre was awaiting execution, the stupid bastard had gone and got himself captured, and I wasn’t going to stand by and let him die — he owed me money. So Trace, Eadger and I…” Merton chuckled as he remembered. “We…um…we borrowed some clothes and fashioned wigs out of horsehair. We waited until the middle of the night, when there were fewer guards, and charmed our way inside. We thought to offer our wares and get the guards drunk. Only…um…” He chuckled again. “One of them took a fancy to me and was a little forward. Now I have no issue kissing another man, but when his hand started to travel up my skirt…I took exception.”

  “Merton,” there were tears in Alden’s eyes as he tried his best not to laugh, “If it were anyone else I would be shocked…but, coming from you…”

  “You should have seen the look on his face when he realised I wasn’t a lass, I swear, I have never seen anything so funny in my life.”

  “Dare I ask what happened next?”

  “I did what any self-respecting woman would do. I slapped him across the face. Eadger then came to my aid and hit the bastard over the head with a clay pitcher. I should imagine he had one hell of a headache when he awoke.”

  “You are unbelievable,” Alden just about managed to utter. “What happened to the other guards?”

  “Valerian and hops in the wine, although I fear I may have miscalculated the doses because they could not be roused for love or money. We encountered a few…difficulties…as we navigated the prison. Whether the guards we met thought it odd that three women were wandering freely around the dungeons at night, I guess we will never know. They did not stay alive long enough to voice an opinion, but hey,” Merton shrugged, “the way they treated Yrre,” Merton shook his head in disgust as he remembered the state Yrre was in when they finally located him. “You would not treat a dog the way they had treated him. They deserved to die. When we found Yrre, he wasn’t moving, and he was barely breathing. I thought we were too late. But Yrre is as stubborn as an ass and he flatly refused to die.”

  “He looked well when I saw him. I wouldn’t have known…”

  “He carries the scars like you do.”

  “They lashed him?” Alden felt a familiar cold sense of fear as he remembered his own beating.

  “He received 100 lashes. Not so many as you, but enough. The prison was riddled with disease and he had a raging fever by the time we got him out. But, he survived…as you did.”

  “Some days it doesn’t feel like surviving, it feels like-”

  “Don’t think about it,” Merton interrupted. He wished now that he had not brought it up, he should have known better. His brother was haunted by what had happened to him at the hands of Wessex and he always would be. “I have to say that it was quite a liberating experience and I did look rather becoming in a dress,” Merton jested, trying to bring the light back into Alden’s eyes. “You should borrow one of Annis’s dresses when you get back and try it out for yourself.”

  “Oh shut up and get inside,” Alden grinned and gave Merton a friendly push into the room. “You’ll never change, will you?”

  The room was warm, well warmer than the corridor. The fire in the hearth burnt merrily and chased away the cold. The room was awash in gentle beeswax candlelight, which gave off a beautiful homely smell that Merton had all but forgotten about. Tapestries adorned the walls. The reeds on the floor were new and the furniture had been waxed until it shone. Merton had loved this room as a child. This room had been his sanctuary, the one place he could go to and be sure of a welcome. He had lost count as to how many times he had run here, seeking Alden’s company and sometimes his protection when his other brothers, especially Budic, were threatening to thrash the living daylights out of him for some terrible transgression.

  There was a maid in the room, a young girl of about sixteen summers, if Merton cared to hazard a guess. She was knelt down next to the fire, feeding it logs. When she saw them, she scrambled to her feet and curtseyed low; making sure to keep her eyes averted for it was not for the likes of her to look upon royalty. She silently prayed that the housekeeper did not hear of this, for she would be whipped if he did. Budic liked his chamber servants to be invisible, which wasn’t always the easiest of things to accomplish.

  She dared a glance up and Merton saw that her eyes were ringed black with exhaustion. No doubt her workload had more than doubled since Anna’s death. The poor thing. Why anyone would willingly work for Budic was a mystery to him.

  “That will be all,” Alden said as he came into the room.

  Still keeping her eyes down the maid began to cross the room, her face rosy red with embarrassment.

  “Actually, could you see to it that Lord du Lac’s chamber is ready-”

  “That is not necessary. I have no intention of sleeping here. I will make camp with my men.”

  “And could you have a bath prepared for him,” Alden continued to address the maid.

  “Please don’t go to any bother,” Merton said to the maid. “I am not staying.”

  “You stink, Merton. Even if you don’t sleep in the chamber at least have a wash.”

  “Alden, please. You are embarrassing the poor girl.”

  The maid had foolishly raised her head, and she was surprised to find both men looking at her. Dear Holy Mother, she needed to get out of here, now. This was beyond the beyond. She now knew what it felt like to wish for the floor to swallow her up. She had never been so embarrassed in her life.

  “Do you think I smell?” Merton quizzed, taking a step towards her.

  The maid bit her lip and knew not how to respond. This was Merton du Lac. She would be very foolish to insult him, but, oh gosh, no one had told her he looked like this. She had never seen anyone as handsome before in her life.

  “I can see your answer in your face,” Merton smiled at her and saw her eyes soften under his gaze. “I will take my brother’s advice. Perhaps that is why no one wants to be in my company, and here I thought it was because I was a demon,” Merton winked at her in good humour. “Will you be available to scrub my back?”

  “That will be all, and no, you don’t have to scrub his back. Just leave the water, he is old enough and ugly enough to look after himself,” Alden stated.

  “Ugly?” Merton looked at his brother in disbelief and then looked back at the maid. “Do I look ugly to you?”

  “I…” The girl stammered. Merton du Lac was anything but ugly, but it wasn’t her place to tell him that. Oh Holy Mother, was this what the devil looked like? If so, then why was she seriously contemplating sinning?

  “Please excuse him, he is not used to polite society anymore,” Alden said, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

  The maid’s face turned an even darker shade of red, and she bobbed another curtsey before heading quickly for the door.

  “Before you leave I would just like to warn you, do not linger in his chamber. It wouldn’t be wise,” Alden advised.

  The maid’s eyes widened in shock, and she quickly left the room, shutting the door behind her.

  “It wouldn’t be wise? What did you mean by that? I am hardly in the habit of raping young women.”

  “I was more concerned about you. Did you see how she was looking at you?” Alden said as he crossed the room and began to pour out ale into two goblets.

  “You are jealous.”

  “Jealous? Merton, please…”

  “I was always the better looking one. I can’t help it if women find me appealing.”

  “In a dress you may pass as presentable, but looking at you now, I can’t see the appeal, especially with the new haircut, what were you thinking when you cut your hair?” Al
den returned with a grin.

  “Jealousy is a sin, be careful,” Merton said as he unclasped the buckle that held his cloak together and lifted the sodden garment off his shoulders and draped it over the chair by the fire. It would take an age to dry the wool out, but Merton did not need the protection of a stolen uniform anymore. “Jealousy is the path to all manner of evils,” he continued. “You must avoid it at all costs.”

  “Who died and made you Pope?” Alden asked.

  Merton unstrapped his weapon belt and placed it on the floor next to the chair. “Budic always wanted me to join the church. I think I should have listened to him. I would have made a good monk.”

  “The poverty you may well have been able to cope with. But the celibacy and the obedience? I can not see it,” Alden said.

  Merton grinned and began to struggle out of his chainmail.

  “Be useful for once, and help me get out of this.”

  Alden helped him remove the chainmail and Merton rolled his shoulders in relief.

  “Going back to our conversation…apart from your escapades dressed as a woman, have you been well?” Alden indicated the chair with his hand and Merton sat down thankfully upon it.

  “Same as always,” Merton accepted the ale that Alden handed to him and took a sip. “I have the devil’s own luck.”

  “Or a pig-headed stubbornness the likes no one has ever seen before.”

  “Or that,” Merton said, taking another sip of his drink, he groaned in pleasure at the taste. “I may well kidnap whoever it is that makes Budic’s ale because this is great.”

  “The only thing good about this place is the wine-cellar,” Alden agreed. “So are you going to tell me about Tanick?”

  “There’s not much to tell. I seduced his mother. She fell pregnant. I married her and then she died.”