Bay of Fear (Battle Lords of de Velt Book 3)

by Kathryn Le Veque

  His men were eager, cheering at the thought of carving English flesh that night. More thunder and lightning crashed overhead, and Raleigh waved his arm at his men, moving them on towards their destination of Baiadepaura. Fighting through a new wave of vicious rain, they came up to the crest of a hill only to see Baiadepaura Castle on the next hill, across the cliffs, like a beacon against the stormy night.

  One glance was all they needed to see that there were lights everywhere in the castle – in the keep, against the windows, and on the walls. That told them what they needed to know, that old Mawgwen had been unsuccessful in chasing the English away.

  They knew what they had to do.

  Crouching low to stay in line with the tops of the sea grass, they began to move swiftly across the path, knowing that the rain and darkness were keeping their movements concealed.

  As they drew closer to the structure, they split into their two groups, with Alastair taking his men towards the sea path and Raleigh taking his to the path that led along the cliffs behind the keep.

  Had the walls been in full repair, they would have never been able to even make it to the sea path, but the fact that the English hadn’t had time to fix any of the walls yet gave them the advantage they needed.

  They were going to take back what belonged to them.

  The Bay of Fear would take on new meaning this night.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The hall was a place of warmth and laughter this night.

  It was true that the weather was horrific outside. But inside the old building with the leaking roof, everything was warm and smoky, with men gambling and a few of them even singing, drunk on the barrels of wine that the quartermaster had brought from Seven Crosses. Perhaps to Tenner and Arlo and Graham, it was any normal night, but to Annalyla, it was a special night.

  It was the first night she felt as if she were truly home.

  Tenner and Arlo were laughing over some adventure they’d had in Exeter, something about an old acquaintance who was more an enemy than a friend, challenging one or both of them when he was drunk. It seemed that Arlo distracted the man while Tenner stole his purse, especially after the man had referred to Tenner as a “devil-eyed beast.” When the man finally sobered up and went looking for his money, Tenner and Arlo told him that a whore had stolen it, leading him to raid a brothel at the end of town where the working women had beaten him severely.

  It was all quite humorous to them. Even Graham was smiling. Tenner and Arlo had admitted Graham into their small brotherhood and made him feel welcome, which was a camaraderie that Graham hadn’t felt in a very long time. Spending his time at Roseden as he had, with only Cain St. Lo as his single male companion, he was much more comfortable and in his element with a pair of knights.

  Life, for Graham, was starting to shine again.

  In fact, it was shining for them all, and routines were already being established. Nearly all of the men were crowded into the hall this night because the weather was so bad, and with only seven women to tend to so many men, Annalyla and Maude were moving around the hall, making sure everything was attended to and that the men had enough to eat. Old Mawgwen had yet to be found, so Annalyla and Mercy, and a couple of the other women, had prepared the meal with the help of the old quartermaster, but it was an excellent meal to be had.

  The salted beef had been soaked and boiled, producing a broth of sorts that a stew had been made from. Annalyla had cut up onions and carrots and turnips, all of it boiled with the meat and, by suppertime, it was a hearty meal. Coupled with the bread that Mercy had baked, they had quite a feast on this stormy night.

  Hearing the laughter and the lively conversation was like music to Annalyla’s ears. It had been like this at Netherghyll when she’d fostered those years ago and she’d loved the energy of it. But the years she’d spent at Roseden afterwards were like living in a tomb. No laughter, only a strict sense of austerity and schemes to land rich husbands.

  Thoughts of Mother Angel had crossed her mind since her marriage to Tenner, but only briefly. She honestly didn’t think about the woman other than to be grateful she hadn’t come to Baiadepaura. Sometimes she thought of Ivor, that strange earl who seemed far too solicitous to her, and she also thought of Lady Jane and the night the woman had tried to break into her room, perhaps searching for her lost love.

  In that respect, Lady Jane wasn’t unlike the ghost of the last lord of Baiadepaura, wandering the halls in the search for his wife’s amulet. Both Jane and Faustus had tragic love stories, and as Annalyla turned to look at Tenner as the man chatted animatedly with Arlo, she could only feel deep gratitude that her love story hadn’t turned out tragic as well. She’d been vastly fortunate to find her happy ending.

  “Annie,” Maude said as she came up beside her, handing her an empty pewter pitcher. “It is your turn to fill this with the last of the stew. I went the last two times.”

  Annalyla giggled. “Why me?” she demanded lightly. “I am the chatelaine. I should not have to fetch stew.”

  Maude pointed to the north end of the hall where four of the servant women seemed to be cleaning up something from the floor.

  “Then you can go over there and finish cleaning up the vomit,” she said. “They had a drinking game going on over there and more than one man could not hold his wine. One became sick and then several others followed. Well? Shall I tell the servants that you shall clean it up and they can go to the kitchens?”

  Annalyla rolled her eyes. “God, no,” she hissed, snatching the pitcher. “I will go to the kitchens. I would rather get wet than mop up the contents of someone’s stomach.”

  Maude snorted at her, following her all the way to the door of the great hall where the storm was raging beyond. Annalyla paused at the door, frowning at the nasty weather, as Maude came up behind her and gave her a little shove, right out into the rain. It was in good humor, and Annalyla shook a fist at her in response.

  But she couldn’t keep from laughing as she did it.

  As Maude laughed, Annalyla began running across the cobbled bailey, which was slippery with the rain. In fact, she almost slipped twice, using the heavy pewter pitcher as ballast so she wouldn’t lose her balance. Skipping closer to the stairs that led down to the kitchen, she had her head lowered to keep the rain from her eyes, but also so she could see where she was going. Just as she neared the steps, someone coming up the stairs reached out and grabbed her.

  Startled, Annalyla looked up into the face of a man she didn’t recognize. In fact, he wasn’t dressed like a soldier; he was in leather and wool, smelling of rot and the sea, and the leather cap on his head was worn and tattered. When he smiled at her, a most wicked smile, she could see that he was missing most of his teeth.

  Instinctively, she tried to pull away, but he held tight. Then, she saw several other men coming up behind them, all of them with daggers in their hands. It took Annalyla a moment to realize that this was a group of invaders, men who meant to do them all great harm, and in a panic, she swung the pewter pitcher, braining the man who held her on the side of his skull. He released her and staggered back, falling back on the steps and crashing into some of the men behind him. That action gave Annalyla the moment she needed to break away and scream.

  “Maude!” she screamed. “Raiders!”

  She could see Maude still at the door of the hall, but she didn’t know if the woman had heard her. She started to run, but the ground was so slippery she ended up nearly falling as she struggled to gain traction. In her periphery, she could see another man making a swipe at her, and she screamed again, picking up her skirts and running as fast as she could across the slick stones.

  Annalyla knew she had no chance of making it to the hall before someone grabbed her, so her best option was to run into the keep and find a place to hide until Tenner could come for her. Behind her, she could hear cursing and yelling, and more men suddenly burst forth at the southern end of the bailey, their blades flashing in the light that was emitting from the ha
ll.

  It was a full-scale invasion from the sea as Annalyla headed for the keep, praying she could stay out of sight until Tenner could help her. In truth, there was nowhere else she could run to, so the great doors of the keep beckoned and she headed towards them, praying she could reach them – and safety – in time.

  Praying that Tenner would be able to help her before it was too late.

  “Breach!” Maude screamed.

  The woman had lived in castles long enough to know the protocol of an attack, and the moment she saw men with weapons bursting forth from the seaward side of the complex and grabbing at Annalyla, she started to scream.

  The great hall quieted down in an instant.

  “Breach!” she screamed again, turning towards the table where her husband and Tenner and Graham were. “Tenner, Annie is in trouble! The keep! Go to the keep!”

  Somewhat inebriated with all of the wine he’d had that evening, Tenner’s head was swimming a little, but it did nothing to dampen his response. He went from laughing and joking into immediate command and control mode as he hurdled over the table with Arlo and Graham right behind him.

  In fact, the entire hall was scrambling, men rushing for the doors, and Tenner was at the head of it. He reached the door in time to see Annalyla disappearing into the keep with a man in pursuit. And as he stepped out into the driving rain, he could see many figures emerging from the darkness, with weapons in hand.

  He couldn’t tell how many men there were, but that didn’t matter. They’d been caught off-guard and he felt like a fool. A stupid, useless fool. But his feelings aside, all that mattered to him was getting to his wife, who was running for her life. Unfortunately, he didn’t have his broadsword; it was in the keep where he’d left it. But he did have a dagger on his body, a rather large one, and as he unsheathed it, he turned to Maude, who was still standing by the door.

  “Stay here!” he barked. “Find a place to hide and stay there. Do you understand me?”

  Maude was terrified; he could see it in her eyes, but she nodded quickly. As Arlo rushed to his wife to help her hide, Tenner and the rest of the men charged from the hall.

  It was a stream of men, most of whom were drunk or on their way to being drunk, confronting a gang of men who were well-prepared and sober. That gave the invaders the advantage, even over several times their number in manpower, at least for the moment. The sounds of weapons clashing could be heard as the two groups came together, the noise of battle now mixing with the howling storm. With the clash of fighting all around him, Tenner ran straight for the keep.

  But it wasn’t a clear path.

  Immediately, he was confronted by a man with a massive dagger, arched in shape like a scimitar. Tenner’s dagger was considerably smaller and, very quickly, he was in hand-to-hand combat with a man who was seriously trying to kill him.

  It was a battle for his life.

  Tenner was feeling so very stupid. He’d let his guard down and he shouldn’t have. Worse still, his men had followed his example and they’d let their guards down, too. Their second night at the derelict old castle, and no one had been expecting an attack from the seaward side. The portcullises were secured, the sea path destroyed, but there were still gaping holes in their security which the men on the walls had failed to protect.

  As the storm lashed them, Tenner had no time for foolery, fighting with a man who was clearly not his equal. But he took a bad step on the slippery stones and he felt something crack in his ankle. Slipping, he went down heavily on his left side, all the while defending himself from the onslaught of the attacker as pain shot up his left leg.

  Instantly, he knew he was in a bad way.

  But he didn’t give up. He had de Velt and de Lohr blood in him, and surrender was not an option. As the attacker came closer and lifted his arm to deliver a powerful blow, Tenner took advantage and rammed his dagger into the man’s underarm. As his opponent crumpled in a heap, Tenner leaped to his feet.

  Unfortunately, he’d done damage to his ankle, so walking was extremely painful and difficult, made worse by the slippery stones. All around him there was fighting going on, but he paid no attention to it. His only focus was on getting to the keep where his wife was struggling for her life. He could feel a blind panic welling up within him, a desperation and fear he’d never felt before. The idea of Annalyla at the mercy of a marauder put terror in his heart the likes of which he’d never experienced.

  He had to get to her.

  Limping and hopping on his good leg, he moved faster than he ever thought he could, given his injury, and made his way towards the dark and uninviting keep.

  I’m coming, Annie!

  Once Annalyla had run into the keep, her terror had taken her in a direction she shouldn’t have gone. While there were heavy doors on the master’s chambers in the south side of the keep, she’d mistakenly rushed to her right once she entered the keep, which only took her to the damaged northern wing.

  Unfortunately, her attacker was right behind her and she couldn’t turn and go the opposite direction. She would have run right into him. So, much like a chicken with its head cut off, she ran indiscriminately, anywhere she thought there might be safety, and she ended up racing up the old flight of stones steps that led to the north wing, the one that was so badly damaged. Up the stairs she went, hearing her pursuer right behind her, grunting and cursing because he was having to run after his unwilling quarry.

  Annalyla struggled to rein in her panic because if she couldn’t think clearly, then she was as good as dead. But now, she was on the second floor of the northern wing and there were only two chambers here, from what she remembered. Oddly enough, they both had sturdy doors, so she ran into the first chamber and slammed the panel, struggling to close it as the attacker came up behind her and threw his weight on the door.

  Annalyla knew in an instant that she would have no chance of keeping him out. Already, he was pushing the door in, grabbing for her. He managed to grab hold of her sleeve, by the shoulder, and in a panic, she bit him. It had the desired effect; he swiftly released her, and she threw herself on the door, catching his wrist. He growled in pain and, angered, gave a good shove, nearly opening the door completely.

  Annalyla suddenly moved away from the door and the man fell into the room, literally. As he was wallowing on his face, she leaped over him and ran straight into the other chamber, the one missing part of the roof and with part of one wall missing, all the way down to the floor.

  Annalyla thought briefly of taking the stairs and running out of the keep, but she thought it would be safer to lock herself in somewhere, even if it was a partially collapsed room. It would be a heavy door between her and the attackers, so she ran into the room and slammed the door, only to discover there was no bolt on it. Before she could open the door and run again, her attacker was there, again throwing himself against the panel.

  The blow sent Annalyla stumbling across the room, over near the corner where the wall was missing and it was a three-story drop to the ground below. When she finally caught her balance and looked up, her attacker was standing in the open door, looking at her.

  But he wasn’t charging her. Oddly enough, he was just standing there, looking at her, probably because he knew she was cornered now. She couldn’t get away. Annalyla backed away, her eyes never leaving him.

  “Get out of here,” she hissed. “Leave me alone!”

  The man smiled and rubbed the left side of his head. It was the same man she’d smacked with the heavy pitcher and he was fingering a lump on his scalp.

  “Ye gave a good fight, missy,” he said. “I congratulate ye.”

  He was starting to move towards her, slowly and deliberately, and Annalyla’s heart pounded painfully with fear.

  “I told you to go away,” she said, mustering a threat. “My husband will be here any moment and he will kill you.”

  The man shook his head. “More than likely, he’s already dead,” he said. “Did ye not see my men in the bailey? They’
ll kill every man here. There is no chance for anyone.”

  Annalyla had seen some men with him, initially, but she had no idea how many there were. The way he was talking, there was evidently a massive army in the bailey now, killing everything that wasn’t part of them. The mere idea was terrifying. But she held her ground, refusing to give in to the fear that was clawing at her.

  She had to fight!

  “What kind of men do you think are here?” she asked in a condescending tone. “There are seasoned knights protecting this place. Do you truly think your men can kill them?”

  He cocked his head. “I do.”

  He seemed arrogant, but not in a boastful way. In a factual way. He believed every word he said and for every step he took towards her, Annalyla took a step back.

  He was stalking her.

  “Who are you?” she hissed. “What do you want?”

  He smiled lazily. “We want our castle back.”

  We want our castle back. She eyed him rather curiously. “Back?” she repeated. “But this castle does not belong to you. It belongs to the Earl of Tiverton.”

  He shook his head. “It belongs tae me,” he said firmly. “Tiverton, is it? Did the Earl of Cornwall sell it tae him?”

  She continued to view him with great confusion as well as fear. “Nay,” she said. “The king gave it to him, I believe. What do you mean it belongs to you? Who are you?”

  It was the second time she’d asked the question and, this time, he answered. “My name isna important,” he said. “But my men and me, we own the seas. We take what we want, and we want Baiadepaura. ’Tis a place no one will have, but I will. And I want it back.”

  Annalyla stared at him a moment before her eyes widened. “Pirates!” she suddenly spat. “You’re the pirate who has been living here!”

  He seemed amused. “So ye know that, do ye?”

  “I was told. Is it true?”

  “’Tis.”

  Annalyla could hardly believe she was facing off against a pirate. She’d never imagined she’d ever even see one much less be cornered by one, and the fear she felt was magnified. She remembered old Mawgwen speaking of the pirates and she further remembered the old woman trying to discourage her from staying at Baiadepaura by telling her of the legends and curses. Perhaps, this pirate knew nothing of them. In a desperate move, she thought that if she told the man the terrible things of the castle, he would no longer want it. Maybe he’d go away and leave them alone. Having no weapon to fend the man off with, she used the only weapon she had –