He had to act.
With a final kiss to his wife, kissing her softly on the lips, Faustus took the dagger and rammed it into her back, between her shoulder blades, and pierced her heart. Anyu startled at the sharp pain, but the moment the blade cut into her heart, death was instant. Faustus sobbed as she collapsed over their son, embracing the child even in death. But before he could remove the dagger and turn it on himself, the door to the chamber flew open.
The room filled with angry, hostile people, and Faustus was grabbed and pulled away from Anyu and their child. The last he saw, someone was rolling her onto her back and tearing at her clothing, looking for jewels. She had none except for the necklace Faustus had given her when they were married, and that was always around her neck. As he was pulled out of the chamber by the mob, Faustus swore he saw someone yank the gold chain with the horsehead pendant off of her dead body.
That fed him with rage.
It was a rage that tore at him as he was dragged out of the keep and into the bailey, where the entire expanse of the yard had filled with angry, rioting villagers. The note he’d written was still on his father’s desk, but there was no use in giving it to them now, nor could he if he’d wanted to. He was wrapped in iron chains, heavy and cutting at him, as the villagers swarmed him, hitting him with clubs and sticks and hands.
Unable to cry out, unable to scream, he took to spitting at them, weeping silently at what was happening. His only comfort was in the fact that his family was dead and unable to experience such pain and terror, but that faith was tested when he saw the villagers dragging Anyu’s body from the keep and toss it onto a big fire they were making the center of the bailey.
At first, the rage in his heart multiplied as the poor woman was denied dignity in death. He opened his mouth, but no sound came forth as he rattled his chains and tried to break free. When that didn’t work, he took to straining against them as if to snap them that way. The villagers, startled by such unbridled madness, stepped back, fearful that some of that madness might rub off on them. But the madness subsided, deteriorating into open-mouth weeping as Faustus looked away from the sight of his wife burning on a pyre, remembering Anyu as she had been in life and not as a corpse now going up in flames.
It was pain too deep for words, even if he could have spoken them.
With the smell of burning flesh heavy in the air, the villagers decided that a fiery grave was Faustus’ destination as well. They finished hitting him and torturing him, and they dragged him over to the flames that were billowing thick, dark smoke into the twilight sky. It seemed strange to them that he went willingly, almost too willingly, and it was even stranger that by the time they reached the flames, the Devil of Baiadepaura didn’t wait to be invited – he threw himself into the flames atop his burning wife and, without a sound or a twitch, he ignited into flames right on top of her.
For the villagers, the screaming and rioting died down and a silence of shock settled as they watched the wicked lord burn. He’d taken the pleasure away from them and thrown himself into the flames. There wasn’t much satisfaction to that, they realized. In fact, there was something macabre yet poignant about it as he moved his burning body over his wife’s as if to cover the woman, protecting her from the evil of the world that had killed them both.
In fact, the villagers, once so eager to execute the man, weren’t so eager any longer. Now they were looking at each other with doubt, and even suspicion. Now that the object of their hate was smoldering in the ruins of the bailey, it seemed as if their hate had burned away right along with him. There was no longer anything to focus their rancor on. Even so, there was an unsettled feeling around them, as if the evil had not died with the two bodies on the flames.
The evil lingered.
Perhaps, it was their own evil they felt, hatred and ignorance so great that it had taken on a life of its own. Or perhaps, it was the fact that Faustus, in his last few moments of sanity before the pain of the fire overtook him, imagined a curse for them so great, so strong, that the pain and anguish in his soul had taken flight, escaping his burning body to hover over the castle like a storm. It touched all of them, even as they wandered away from the burning pyre, through the destroyed gates, and back to their village. The curse that had come from Faustus’ very soul was one of vengeance and anger, for at the very moment his life was burned from him, he’d begged the gods of darkness for their blessing.
My vengeance upon those who killed my wife.
Against those who stole the only thing of value I’d given her.
Whoever has the necklace shall know bad fortune and sorrow.
For what they have done, let them suffer beyond suffer.
Let them know anguish until the end of time.
And let all who set foot within these walls know a bottomless, horrid fear.
I will make them pay.
Had the peasants of Treskin known of the curse Faustus had wished against them, they might have had the opportunity to ask a priest to pray for them, or seek guidance from the witches who lived in the sea caves along the coast. But they didn’t know, and they returned to their lives as if they’d not just killed an innocent man.
Even so, it wasn’t Faustus’ curse that wiped out the village of Treskin. It was the plague that continued to kill long after the man they believed responsible was gone. Within a week, the entire village was deserted and those who hadn’t become ill fled to points east, carrying the disease as they went. Several more villages in Dumnonia and even further east and north were affected by the plague that struck without warning, without prejudice to men or women or children.
In truth, Faustus never left Baiadepaura Castle. His soul, trapped by the curse, by the hatred towards those who had killed his family and had stolen his wife’s necklace, the only thing of value he’d ever given her, lingered in the walls, in a dark and unsettling limbo, looking for the necklace that had been stolen from his beautiful Anyu. Waiting for the next inhabitants of Baiadepaura to unleash his anger upon.
In the castle on the cliffs, by the unforgiving and turbulent sea, the Devil of Baiadepaura waited.
CHAPTER TWO
Year of Our Lord 1268
Seven Crosses Castle, Tiverton, Devon
“I realize this is asking a great deal of you, Tenner, but were it not important, I would not ask.”
Tenner de Velt stood in the lavish solar of his lord, Ivor FitzJohn, as the man spoke of the immediate future involving Tenner and men under his command. There was displeasure in the air already, and all of it Tenner’s, but he could not voice his objections to the Earl of Tiverton. The man was the child of a bastard son of King John, a cousin to the present king, and all Plantagenet if there ever was such a thing.
And what the earl wanted, the earl got.
Tenner sighed faintly.
“My lord,” he said, trying to stay on an even keel. “It is my honor to carry out every command and every wish you have but, in this case, it may be better to send someone else. My betrothed, as you know, is due to arrive any day now and I am not entirely sure it is a good idea to take a woman to Baiadepaura Castle.”
The unspoken reasons behind his protest hung in the air between them until Ivor broke the silence.
“Let us look at this as logical men, Tenner,” he said as he moved to an elaborately carved table that held a crystal decanter of wine. The room was, if nothing else, an unashamed display of wealth of the FitzJohn family. “My cousin, King Henry, and his brother, Richard, are at odds again. He’s taken away some of Richard’s properties, one of them being Baiadepaura Castle, a rather strategic outpost in Cornwall. Not that Richard ever did anything with it; he gave in to the rumors of the hauntings and curses, as you know. He felt that the place was more of a burden than an asset, but I do not view it that way. We are men of reason, Tenner; we do not believe in ghosts or curses. And Baiadepaura is strategic to the piracy that is going on all along the western coast. You know they have hit my properties in Bude and in Widemouth Ba
y. Baiadepaura is in a perfect position to defend these properties and now it is finally mine.”
Tenner knew about the pirates devastating the earl’s properties along the northern part of Cornwall’s coast. That was old news, but the earl had a point – they only kept small outposts at Bude and Widemouth Bay because Henry, and his brother, Richard, wouldn’t allow Tiverton to build anything resembling a castle in those lands, even if it was for the protection of Tiverton’s properties.
Ivor had spent years petitioning the king to allow him to build a fortress on his properties, but Richard had convinced his brother, in a moment of alliance with him, not to allow it. Somehow, Richard, Earl of Cornwall, was afraid that his cousin, Ivor FitzJohn, might try to usurp him. No one in Cornwall could have more power than Richard, so there had been a stalemate for years until the news came that Henry would be granting FitzJohn Baiadepaura Castle.
No one wanted a cursed castle, not even greedy Richard.
But Tenner wasn’t so sure it was a victory for Tiverton. Everyone in Cornwall and Devon, and beyond, knew the tales of that awful place. Ghosts and curses were only part of it. The entire area was derelict and dangerous, dotted with clumps of forests that held outlaws and murderers. Pirates were as plentiful as vermin. Because no decent folk would go into the area, it had become a haven for the worst society had to offer, so Tenner knew the ghosts of Baiadepaura weren’t the only threat he would have to deal with.
It would come from everywhere.
“My lord, let me be clear,” Tenner said patiently. “I do not fear ghosts, for I do not believe in such things. My primary reluctance about Baiadepaura is taking a woman there. You want me to command Baiadepaura and I am more than willing to do so; nay, I relish the challenge. But the woman I am to marry is to arrive on the morrow, I am led to believe, and I do not wish to take the woman with me to such a place. I would be unable to effectively command if I am worrying over her safety every moment of the day.”
The earl was unmoved. “Then leave her here.”
“I cannot, my lord.”
Ivor was growing impatient, making it difficult to keep the expression off his rather unhandsome face. “De Velt, you did not want a wife at all,” he said. “I was here when you received the missive from your father. Lord Cassian is a fine man and I hold no quarrel with him, but he deliberately saddled you with a wife you did not want. Is this statement untrue?”
Tenner’s jaw ticked. “His decision was… unexpected.”
“Do you want her?”
“Nay. But that is not my choice.”
“But you would insist on taking this unwanted wife with you to Baiadepaura rather than leave her behind? That makes no sense.”
Tenner lifted a dark eyebrow. “I could not shame my father by treating her poorly,” he said. “Our family has a history of brutes and fiends, and I’ll not add to that with the legend of a knight who wed an honorable woman and then left her behind when he went to assume a new post. My father would not believe me if I told him I left her behind for her own safety, and then he would have to explain that to her father. It would make my father look like he had a fool for a son.”
FitzJohn sighed heavily. He genuinely liked Tenner; the man was as dedicated to duty as any knight he’d ever seen. The grandson of Ajax de Velt on his father’s side and of Christopher de Lohr on his mother’s, Tenner was a super breed of knight. He had all of Jax de Velt’s size, coloring, and strength, right down to the dual-colored eyes, but all of de Lohr’s wisdom, cunning, calm negotiation, and reason.
As far as knights went, Sir Tenner de Velt was as close to perfect as they came.
And Ivor knew he was very fortunate to have him. He’d actually stolen him away from the Duke of Surrey in a gambling game, and he’d cheated, because he very much wanted de Velt at the helm of his army. He’d seen how the young knight had handled Surrey’s troops and he wanted the man for himself.
Years down the road, he and Surrey were no longer friends, but Tenner had been worth the cost. He and his knight got along mostly famously. Ivor had two children; an older daughter who had gone mad long ago, and an incorrigible ten-year-old son who was off to foster with de Nerra of Selbourne Castle in Hampshire. These days, Tenner was filling the role that neither of the man’s children could fill, that of a child who could make a father proud. In fact, Ivor didn’t like to see Tenner so unhappy but, given the circumstances, there was little choice. Ivor wanted Tenner at Baiadepaura and the knight was simply going to have to accept it.
“Then your only choice is to take the woman with you if you feel so strongly,” he said, moving over to pat Tenner on his broad shoulder. “In fact, I will send de Correa and his wife with you. Your wife can have a companion in Lady de Correa, and you shall have another knight at your disposal. I will also send five hundred men with you from Seven Crosses and you have my permission to hire any artisans or laborers you need to make the castle secure and livable. And it will be your outpost, Tenner – you will give the commands and all men will obey you. You will be answerable only to me. All I ask is that you keep the pirates away from my properties.”
Tenner resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The suggestion of an additional knight and his wife made things both better and worse. He and Arlo de Correa were great friends, and had been ever since Tenner had arrived at Seven Crosses Castle, and he sincerely had no issue with Arlo accompanying him, but the knight also came with a wife – another woman – that they would have to worry about at Baiadepaura. It was a grossly unpalatable situation.
But it was also one he couldn’t refuse.
Aye, Tenner knew he couldn’t refuse it and his stomach was in knots because of it.
“If you wish it, my lord,” he said with reluctance. “I will do what is necessary to protect your properties in the area and your mining interests.”
“And you will allow the women at Baiadepaura?”
Tenner’s jaw ticked. “Against my better judgement, I will.”
Ivor let out a sigh of relief. He thought he was going to have a much more difficult fight on his hands. He knew Tenner had not changed his mind about bringing a woman to Baiadepaura but, to the man’s credit, he wasn’t arguing about it. He was doing as his liege instructed.
The mark of a seasoned knight.
“Thank you,” he finally said sincerely. “This is an important task, Tenner. I know you are aware of my production of tin mining in the area, but not the full extent because it simply hasn’t been your business. You lead my armies, Tenner, not my business interests, so I’ve never fully informed you of the situation, but the reality of it is this – unfortunately, because of Henry and Richard, and their disallowing me to build stronger fortresses to protect my lands, the mining has been on a very small scale. There are mining towns near Bude and Widemouth Bay, where merchant ships take my tin to France and even the eastern part of England. It is those ships that the pirates target, Tenner. That much you do know.”
Tenner nodded. “I do, my lord.”
“What you do not know is that with the fortress of Baiadepaura, I can now expand the mining operations,” he said. “More tin, and more wealth. All you need do is protect the ships that come in and out of the harbors by ridding the area of the pirates. That will be your task.”
Tenner lifted his dark eyebrows as if to suggest that wasn’t such an easy thing. “The pirates are at sea and I am on land,” he said. “Have we considered hiding soldiers on the merchant ships?”
“That is something we must discuss now that I have the freedom to protect my property more than I ever have.”
“And I fear we should have vessels ourselves to intercept the pirates who may go after the merchant ships.”
Ivor grinned. “You see?” he said as he set his wine down and turned for the table that held maps and other documents. “This will be a great challenge for your skills, Tenner. We shall discuss what you believe you might need, and I even have a rough drawing of Baiadepaura so you can see her design. It was quite di
fficult to come by this drawing, believe me. No one wants to go near the place, so I had to pay some of my miners to get this. In truth, I cannot guarantee the accuracy, but it is better than nothing.”
He was rummaging through his desk, a cluttered thing, and knocked over a precious inkwell in the process, which he dismissed with a wave of the hand, knowing he had a dozen such inkwells at his disposal. As the silver inkwell lay on the floor and bled dark ink onto the stone, Ivor brought a large piece of vellum over to Tenner.
As Ivor had feared, it wasn’t much to go on. Men had drawn on the vellum with ink that was fading, looking more like brown scratches in a semi-recognizable pattern, but Tenner received the impression of a castle of an odd shape, probably due to the fact that it was built up against the edge of a cliff. In fact, the keep seemed precariously close to those cliffs. He pointed at it.
“Is there no wall against the sea?” he asked. “From this drawing, it looks as if the wall does not extend along the cliffs. Are there walls only on three sides, then?”
Ivor nodded. “From what I understand, the sea is used as the fourth wall and the keep is built up against it.” He turned the drawing sideways to try and gain another perspective. “I am told by the miners that Baiadepaura was built on an ancient Roman fortress and that some of the walls are left there from the Romans. Surely something that has stood for so long must be strong. And the Romans were great military tacticians so, mayhap, they believed they did not need a wall along the cliff’s edge.”
Tenner thought it all looked rather unsafe and unsecure. “I suppose I shall find out soon enough,” he said. “May I take this vellum with me? I should like to study it.”
Ivor handed it to him. “Of course,” he said. “And, Tenner… I should like for you to leave as soon as you marry your betrothed, so be prepared to leave immediately. Do not let the lady get settled in.”
Bay of Fear (Battle Lords of de Velt Book 3) Page 2