Poseidon’s Legion

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Henry looked between Rhodes and Samarra as if baffled by what he was hearing. “You cannot be serious.”

  “Of course I am serious.”

  Henry sat back against his chair, staring at Rhodes before his attention moved to Samarra; she was sitting quietly, watching the situation carefully. In fact, she looked quite innocent to what was going on and that enraged Henry. His anger turned in her direction.

  “You,” he hissed. “Is this what I paid you to do? Cast a spell over my son so that he believes that he cannot live without you? What are you but a lowly mercenary, born and bred from thieves. And you expect me to accept your kind into my family? I will never accept you, woman. You are filth!”

  Rhodes banged his big fist on the table, making the entire table jump and Samarra along with it. Before she could recover her composure, Rhodes was in his father’s face.

  “You will never speak to her again like that, ever,” he hissed. “Do you hear me? If you were not my father, I would cut out your dirty tongue and throw it to the dogs.”

  Henry wasn’t afraid of his son although he did have a healthy respect for the man’s temper. More than that, he saw something flicking in Rhodes’ eyes that suggested this was more than an infatuation or a spell cast upon him. There was something deep, something warm, that Henry had never seen before.

  That was his first clue that the situation between Rhodes and the lady was more serious than he thought.

  “I will not discuss this anymore,” Henry said, his face pale with anger as he faced off against his son. “I have sent men into town to search for de Sansen. He is here, somewhere, and when he is found, we shall proceed to the caves below the town. I am assuming the Lady of the Moon told you about that, also. She seems to have told you everything else.”

  “I am not going to any caves, at least not with Lyonette.”

  “I have brought thirty men with me who say otherwise.”

  “Then they will have to kill me. I will not permit them to take me to those caves alive, Father. I hope this determination you have is worth my life because that is what it will cost you.”

  Henry knew Rhodes was stubborn but he didn’t honestly believe the man would fight to the death. Still… if Rhodes felt passionately enough about something, which he did when it came to refusing the de Sansen betrothal, then he could very well do something foolish. Nay, Henry didn’t want to see his son killed over a betrothal. He simply wanted the man do to as he wished.

  “Hopefully, it will not come to that,” he said. “It is only a marriage, Rhodes. You act as if you are going to your death.”

  “It will be my death if you force the issue because I will not go without a fight. I will kill anyone who tries to force me.”

  It seemed as if they were coming to a stalemate. Henry was nearly at the end of any argument he could present; he’d threatened, pleaded, and cajoled. He’d done everything he could possibly do to force Rhodes to his wishes but, still, his son refused. Now, it was because he evidently fancied himself in love with the mercenary. With hatred in his heart, Henry turned to look at Samarra.

  This was a different woman than the one he’d met in The Blackbottom Tavern those days ago. She looked as if she’d been in a fight; her hair was dirty, she appeared slovenly, and she had a big bruise on her left cheek. He simply couldn’t believe his son had fallen for this filthy creature. If it was really true, it was the greatest of ironies.

  “You took my money and you bewitched my son,” he growled. “I should have known you would not have kept with your bargain.

  Samarra still wasn’t over the insult the man had dealt her when he’d called her filth. She could hear the rage in his voice, the seething hatred. But she locked eyes with him, never wavering, as she dug into the purse that was strapped to her belt. It was wet inside because of her near-death experience, but she didn’t care about that. She was looking for something. When her fingers came into contact with the heavy leather pouch Henry had given her those days ago, the one with fifty pieces of silver and five pieces of gold, she pulled it forth and tossed it at him. It hit Henry in the chest and he had to snatch at it quickly before it fell to the ground.

  “You can have your money back,” she said, her voice steely. “Count it. It’s all there. I did not take any of it.”

  Henry eyed her a moment, a hint of surprise and perhaps chagrin that he’d misjudged that portion of their bargain. He set the pouch upon the table.

  “I will not count it,” he said. “There is no point. But I want to know why you deviated from our bargain.”

  Samarra shook her head. “I did not deviate from anything,” she said. “I brought Rhodes to St. Agnes, as I promised. That was really all you paid me to do. You told me that once I brought him here, you would take him off my hands, so here he is. I kept my end of the bargain and I gave you your money back. As for seducing your son, I have done no such thing. There was never any seduction involved.”

  Rhodes listened to her, well-spoken, with her deep and honeyed voice. Odd how he felt proud of her for standing up to his father without growing irate or insulting. She was cool and she was truthful, and as he gazed at her, he realized he was falling in love with her. A noble, courageous, and beautiful woman… what was not to love?

  I always do what I think is right.

  At the moment, there was no doubt in his mind that he was.

  “As she said, there was never any seduction involved,” he said to his father as he rose to his feet. “What happened between us has happened naturally and I consider it a gift, one I do not intend to refuse. Now, I am leaving and the lady is going with me. If you intend to stop me, then you had better have your men draw weapons because I will kill anyone who tries to stop me.”

  Samarra stood up, as did Henry, only for Henry, it was to prevent his son from doing something rash. He put up his hands.

  “Please, Rhodes,” he said, trying to sound persuasive and not so demanding. “I beg you not to go. You cannot leave, not now. De Sansen will be here any moment.”

  “I know,” Rhodes said, slinging his saddlebags over one broad shoulder. He had his sheathed broadsword in one hand, a massive weapon that could do a great deal of damage. “I intend to leave before he gets here. Stand aside, Father. Please.”

  Henry knew they had come to the end of the road. No more negotiation; this was the moment he would either stand against his son or fall before him. His son, his heart of hearts, was about to walk forth and, perhaps, fall into a world of trouble. He’d never known his son to act rashly before, but then again, maybe he didn’t know him as well as he thought he did. Rhodes had been away from home for many years. Men change.

  Rhodes had changed.

  Henry put his hands up. “Please, Rhodes,” he begged. “You cannot leave, not now. Lad, have you no honor at all?”

  Rhodes shook his head but was precluded from replying when the door to the tavern lurched open and more of Henry’s men appeared. Thinking he was about to be ambushed, that he’d once again been tricked by his father, Rhodes unsheathed his broadsword and prepared to defend himself and Samarra, who unsheathed a small dagger at her waist. She, too, was ready for a battle.

  With both Rhodes and Samarra tensed up for the coming fight, Henry threw his arms up, pleading for calm. He was terrified that the situation would veer out of control quickly and people were about to be killed. Meanwhile, the men who had come in through the tavern door were heading straight for Henry, pushing through the other de Leybourne men standing around. Bogomil, however, intercepted them.

  “What do you want?” he demanded. “Stand back from your lord!”

  One of them held up what looked like a piece of vellum. “We have a message for Lord Henry!” he said.

  Bogomil snatched it from the soldier. “Where did you get this?”

  The soldier pointed in an easterly direction. “The barkeep at the Fish Head Tavern at the end of town gave it to me,” he said. “He said it was a message for Lord Henry!”

  �
�Who is it from?”

  The soldier shook his head. “The barkeep said a man with many soldiers left it for Lord Henry.”

  That didn’t clear the matter up in the least. Greatly puzzled, Bogomil simply handed the missive over to Henry, who snatched it greedily and carefully unfolded it. The writing was terrible, smeared in places, but he did his best to read through it. Meanwhile, Rhodes and Samarra were still standing there with weapons in their hands, waiting for the fight to begin because everyone seemed poised for a battle, too.

  The tension in the air was palpable as the moments ticked by while Henry read the missive not once, but twice. When he was finished the second time, it was as if someone suddenly sucked all of the air out of him. Slowly, he sank back into his chair as the missive clattered to the tabletop.

  Rhodes, his attention on his father’s men as he waited for them to charge, couldn’t help but notice his father didn’t seem at all well. In fact, he seemed rather pale. He peered at the man.

  “Father?” he asked. “What happened? Who was the missive from?”

  Henry sighed heavily, shaking his head with disbelief. He picked the missive up and extended it to Rhodes.

  “Read it,” he said. As Rhodes took it from him and began to read, Henry snorted most ironically. “It would seem that on their way to St. Agnes, Lady Lyonette de Sansen escaped her father and disappeared. It seems that she was as reluctant to marry you as you were to marry her, and Lord de Sansen is quite certain she has married her lover by now. The girl was evidently in love with another man and Lord de Sansen begs our forgiveness at his having broken the marital contract.”

  Rhodes was nearly to the end of the missive just as his father spoke and his eyes widened as he read the missive one more time, as his father had.

  “God’s Bones,” he hissed. “She ran off and married her lover?”

  Rhodes looked straight at Samarra as he said it, who was gazing back at him with equal surprise. Seated next to his son, all Henry could do was shake his head.

  “Sweet God,” he said, his head falling into his hands. “Are the youths of today so foolish and fickle? Is this truly who we will leave our legacies to? Ridiculous children who behave on a whim?”

  Rhodes was still looking at Samarra, a thousand thoughts whirling through his head. But one thing stood out clear – the marital contract between him and Lyonette de Sansen had been broken by Lyonette herself. She had fallen in love with another man, just as he had fallen for another woman. He understood Lyonette’s desire to flee the contract very, very well, only she’d been successful at it whereas he hadn’t been. He almost laughed aloud at the realization.

  “Mayhap not ridiculous children, Father,” he said after a moment, “but children who follow their hearts. There is nothing wrong with following one’s heart because that is the purest form of honor.”

  Henry hung his head a few more moments before turning to look at his son and the woman standing next to him. Secretly, there was a larger part of him that was relieved at the turn the situation had taken – relieved because the burden of the marital contract was now lifted. He truly believed Rhodes had every intention of fighting his way out of the tavern and he could not stomach the possibility of his son becoming injured, or worse, because of it. Now, it was the dishonorable Lady Lyonette who had saved the honor of the rest of them.

  It was she who broke the contract.

  Rhodes was so much like his father – they were both stubborn, both determined to have their way in all things. But Rhodes had a passion for life that Henry had lost a long time ago. If he thought about it hard enough, he lost it around the time his wife died. When Sybill passed away, she’d taken a piece of Henry with her. So maybe it was up to Rhodes to make his own happiness and choose his path in life, just as he wanted to. Maybe it was only right that he should be allowed to choose the woman he wanted to marry.

  Even if that woman was a mercenary.

  “I do not understand children that will not do all they can to secure their legacy as their parents wish it,” Henry finally said. “But if de Sansen had told me his daughter wished to marry another, then mayhap we could have avoided all of this trouble. Mayhap I would not have spent the past ten years praying my son would obey my wishes when it came to the de Sansen marriage and then being devastated when he refused.”

  Rhodes could sense his father’s disappointment and he felt somewhat sorry for the man. After all, he’d only wanted to continue the de Leybourne legacy and he believed he was doing it the right way. Perhaps it was only right for Henry. It had never been right for Rhodes. He put his hand on his father’s shoulder.

  “Would you have broken the contract if de Sansen had come to you?” he asked. “Somehow, I doubt it. You were so determined that I marry his daughter that you would not even consider anything else. But now you must. Papa, I am going to forge an alliance of my own and I swear it will be more beneficial than the de Sansen alliance could have ever been. I will marry Samarra and we will secure the lands between Tyringham and Mithian for decades to come. I swear to you that your legacy shall continue and that you will be proud of it.”

  Henry didn’t have much choice; Rhodes would do what he wanted to do in the end. And, if he thought about it, peace with the Pirates of Britannia was a good thing. He was afraid if he protested Rhodes’ plans of marriage any longer, then he might do irreparable damage to his relationship with his son. That wouldn’t be good for either of their legacies. Feeling defeated and very old, he turned to look at Samarra.

  “The Lady of the Moon,” he muttered. “Had I known what would have come of this that day I met you at The Blackbottom Tavern, I may not have struck the bargain. But I suppose it is done and, now, you and I are to have more of a future together than we imagined. Because of that, I will apologize I called you filth. I was angry. I am sure it would mean a good deal to my son if you were to forgive me, so please consider it.”

  Samarra wasn’t usually the forgiving kind but she found it quite easy to forgive Henry, simply because what he said was correct – it would probably mean a good deal to Rhodes if she forgave his father. She had a new life on the horizon, one that she realized she was looking forward to with a great deal of excitement. That life would also include Henry de Leybourne.

  “I have been called worse,” she said. “But if it means so much to you, then you are forgiven.”

  Henry flashed her a grateful smile that had a tinge of humility to it. “Do you truly love my son?” he asked.

  Samarra looked at Rhodes, who was gazing back at her with an expression of warmth and hope. It made her heart sing. “I… I am certain of it,” she said softly.

  Henry could tell by the look on her face that she was being truthful. He looked at his son. “And you?” he asked. “You are certain that she is what you want?”

  Rhodes gaze never left Samarra’s face. “She is.”

  Henry had never seen such an expression on his son’s face, something that led him to believe that the man was being completely truthful. “I see,” he said. “Do you intend to allow your wife to continue her mercenary ways, then?”

  Rhodes grinned. “We have not yet discussed that but it is my hope that she does not. There is no longer the need. I intend to treat her the way she was meant to be treated, with silks and jewels. We shall attend plays in London and eat from the finest establishments. I think she will like that life much better than selling her sword to old men who want their sons forced into marriage.”

  Samarra laughed softly as Henry turned his attention away from the pair, resigned to the sharp turn his life had taken. Perhaps he didn’t get the bride he wanted for his son, but his son was certainly getting the bride he wanted. Henry could only pray that it would be as beneficial a marriage as Rhodes promised it would be. And for Rhodes’ sake, he prayed the spark of love that had ignited between him and the lady mercenary was something that would burn bright and deep, always.

  For the son who had always been searching for that land of gold, he’
d finally found what was of most value to him. And Henry really couldn’t be too angry about it.

  Finally, the wanderer had come home.

  Chapter Nine

  The next day

  The caves of St. Agnes

  His hand was underneath the skirt of her borrowed gown, moving to the tender junction between her legs even as he faced her towards the wall of the cave. Samarra groaned as Rhodes’ fingers probed the dark curls.

  “Bend forward,” he hissed in her ear. “Put your hands on the wall.”

  He was quickly driving her into mindless ecstasy with his expert fingers. “On… on the red stain?” she gasped.

  “On the red stain.”

  Rhodes has his mouth on her neck as he bent her forward so that her hands were on the wall of the cave, touching what a local man had told them were the exact stains of the lost lovers, people he’d referred to as Kael and Aelwen. Having just married the woman that morning, Rhodes thought it might increase their chances of a true and lasting love if they were to consummate their marriage in the cave, something Henry thought was somewhat ridiculous but he was waiting outside just the same, he and his men keeping any curiosity seekers away.

  But Rhodes, who had initially scoffed at the entire legend of the lost lovers, now found it a very powerful aphrodisiac as he bent his wife over, threw up her skirts, and untied his breeches. The breeches came down and his rigid manhood sought the tender, wet folds of the woman he’d just married. With a little help from Samarra, his flesh sword found its mark. When he thrust into her, it was with such force that he nearly smacked her head into the cave wall.

  But Samarra braced herself firmly, her hands on the red-orange stain that was the source of the legend of the caves. Rhodes had her by the hips as he thrust into her but his hands wandered a great deal, drawn to the thatch of damp curls between her legs or to her full breasts beneath the surcoat she wore. It was more pleasure than Samarra had ever experienced, being filled by a man she had married at the door of St. Agnes’ church earlier that morning. Truly, the moment was not lost on her, for she’d grown up hearing of the legend of the caves. She had no doubt in her love for Rhodes, but it never hurt to have a bit of assurance.