The Du Lac Chronicles: Book 1

by Mary Yarde

  “If they were in my line of vision, they died, regardless of what they were doing. I wasn’t merciful. I just killed.”

  He waited for Alden to say something, but Alden remained infuriatingly silent.

  “I killed indiscriminately. I almost killed James.”

  This time his brother gasped in shock.

  “I lost control. I wasn’t going to let Wessex take you. I came so close to taking James’s head. If it hadn’t been for Jowan blocking the blow, he would be dead.”

  “We all make mistakes in battle.” Alden spoke with caution.

  “But we don’t all turn into demons, do we? And that is what James said I looked like.” Merton shrugged as if it was no consequence, but Alden was not fooled by Merton’s casual dismissal of the word. “Perhaps he is right.”

  “You are not a demon.”

  Merton scoffed. “I don’t feel guilty. At all. I don’t even feel guilty that I almost killed James.”

  “But you didn’t kill him and besides, no one feels guilty about killing their enemies.”

  “Even those that are on their knees, trying to surrender?” Merton queried.

  “We all make mistakes in battle,” Alden said again, and he understood at last what James was talking about. The battle of Cerniw had changed Merton in a way he didn’t want to understand. Merton had always been a little wild; many said he would come to a bad end. He had never believed them, because he loved his brother. Merton was only seventeen and seventeen-year-olds make mistakes all the time. But there was no denying that there was a dark side to Merton, and that side had now been given freedom and where it would all end, Alden could not guess.

  “Maybe,” Merton allowed, but that wasn’t it either. In some dark recesses of his mind, he had enjoyed it and that scared him. “I am sorry I didn’t make it to you. For what it is worth, I did try pretty hard.”

  “I am sorry I didn’t listen to you in the first place,” Alden answered.

  “Hopefully there will never be a next time, but if there is, I will remind you of this conversation,” Merton said, grinning. “I am going to go get a bath and burn these clothes. I’ll see you later.”

  “Thank you,” Alden said, his heart aching for the pain he had inflicted upon his brother. “For what you did in Cerniw and for helping me in Kent. I appreciate it, more than you will ever know. Although if you ever touch Annis again…”

  Merton’s smile widened, although his eyes were still bleak. “I had you convinced for a while, though, didn’t I? And you said I would never fool you. I told you I could act.”

  “You certainly have drunken lunatic mastered,” Alden smiled and he was pleased to see that his words brought a sparkle back into Merton’s eyes. But the shock of hearing of Natanleod’s defeat was too recent to ignore and the smile fell from Alden’s lips. “I should have been there. I shouldn’t have come here.”

  “Natanleod wasn’t a child naively going into battle,” Merton said. “He knew what he was doing. It just wasn’t his day. Try not to think about it.”

  20

  Annis climbed up the narrow stone steps that led to the top of the battlements. She held her hand against the cold stone wall, as the steps were slippery and she had no desire to break her neck if she fell. The snow had finally stopped and a weak sun peeped guiltily through the grey clouds. Gulls circled the sky once more and the air smelt strongly of the salt of the ocean.

  An archer held out his hand and helped her up the last few steps; she smiled her thanks to him. It was icy cold on top of the battlements, and Annis folded her arms about her chest. At least it was slightly safer to walk up here, for someone had had the sense to shovel the snow away.

  Alden stood motionless, seemingly staring at nothing. She came to stand next to him and looked out at the grey vastness of the sky in front of her.

  Without a word, she felt Alden take her hand in his and she clutched it tightly.

  “I heard about Natanleod.” Annis spoke first. “If I had married him, then he would still be alive, and all his people — I keep thinking of the servants at the castle…they were so kind to me.”

  “If you had married him, then I would be dead,” Alden answered bleakly.

  “I know.” Annis held his hand a little bit tighter. “Budic spoke to me today. He said that I am to leave when the snow melts and that Merton will accompany me back to my father’s kingdom.”

  “You are not going back,” Alden stated and turned to look at her. She had lost weight. He had felt it when he had held her in his arms earlier and he could see it in her face.

  “Budic says if I go home, then he would be in a better position to…to reclaim Cerniw for you.”

  “Don’t believe anything that man says. You are not going back,” Alden said again. “I won’t allow that.”

  “You do not have a choice,” Annis reminded him and turned away from the intensity in his eyes.

  “You are my wife and I swore to protect you.”

  “I am no longer your wife.”

  He turned her to face him and she saw a look of bewilderment on his face. “I promised forever, sweetheart. I meant it.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes and she blinked them away. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Nothing matters more,” Alden stressed.

  “You are wrong. You need Cerniw. You love her. I will do anything for you; I would sacrifice anything for you to have her back. And if it means my death —”

  “Why do you insist on trying to martyr yourself all the time? I thought you understood, I love you. You,” he emphasised the word, “I need you so much more than I do Cerniw, why can’t you understand that?”

  “I don’t feel the same. I don’t love you. I’m sorry.” She turned to leave, it was an unconvincing lie, but she needed to say something and that was all she could think of in the heat of the moment. She closed her eyes tightly against the tears. He did not need to see her grief.

  “And the baby you are carrying, do you not love that either?”

  She gasped. She wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t find the words. Slowly he turned her around to face him. She could not meet his eyes, fearing he would see her love for him, fearing he would see the lie.

  “Look at me.” He spoke softly.

  She looked at him and saw the raw emotion on his face. His eyes, like her own, were filled with tears.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” she said.

  “Then stop lying to me, because you are.” Alden gently touched her face. “Come here,” he pulled her into his embrace. His arms closed tightly around her and she felt him kiss the top of her head.

  “I don’t want Cerniw if it means I can’t have you.”

  Annis pulled back so she could look at him. His eyes shone with sincerity. “I do want this child,” she admitted through the tears. “It is part of you; how can I not want it. But Budic said —”

  He cupped her face between his palms, forcing her look at him.

  “Budic does not rule me. He does not rule you. We will see this child born. We will see it together.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she pleaded.

  “I’m not,” he said softly. “Believe me, I am not.”

  The room was empty and cold. Black mould grew on the walls and the ceiling, which gave the room an unhealthy smell of abandonment. Alden waited impatiently, pacing back and forth. How long he had waited, he couldn’t be sure; but when he was about to give up and leave, the door opened and John made his way into the room.

  John coughed as he came in, and his breathing was laboured.

  “It comes to us all,” he said when he saw the look of concern on Alden’s face. It was like he was looking at Lancelot when he looked at Alden, and the pain of loss caught him across the heart again. He turned to shut the door, his heart started to race and he knew his time was near. He had sus
pected so for a long while. He was hot, burning with fever, and he only managed to stay on his feet because of a pig-headed determination that no other man could ever dream of matching. Alden needed him, and his devotion to Alden’s deceased father knew no bounds. He would come when he was called. He always had and until the last breath left his body, he always would.

  Alden was shocked by John’s appearance. John had always seemed like an old man, even when Alden was a child. But he had not been this old or this weak, ever. He looked his age now. Time had suddenly caught up with him. Everything inside Alden rebelled at the thought.

  “You are ill.” Alden stated the blindly obvious, wondering how he had missed seeing the old knight’s illness last night. “You should be in bed.”

  “I’ll not die in a bed,” John stated and started coughing again, which did nothing to slow his racing heartbeat. When his coughing subsided, he straightened and looked at Alden. “You wanted to see me. What is it?”

  “There has been a development.” There was a catch in his voice; Alden cleared his throat before he could continue. “Annis is pregnant.”

  “With your child?”

  “No, the bloody Pope’s,” Alden cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

  “Swear away, it is nothing I haven’t heard before. This baby is a threat to Budic’s throne. You have to leave,” John advised.

  “And where would I go? Tell me, John.”

  “Anywhere you want. You could take me back to Gael. I have a need to see my homeland one last time. You could make a home among my people. You speak the language well enough, thanks to me.”

  “I have seen illness, John. I have seen death. You are dying.” Alden said bluntly, making them both face the truth. “You would not survive the journey.”

  “Dying?” John coughed again, and leant back against the damp wall. “Yes, I should imagine that I am, not that that matters now. Alden, my boy, you have two options. The other option, if you don’t want to leave, is the one I alluded to last night”

  “I don’t want his throne.”

  “That is what Budic said too, when Garren refused it. And Garren did refuse it; you must not forget that.”

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Oh, I think you have. Garren was a good man, but he is dead and it is time you stopped believing he will come home. He is gone from us like I will soon be gone. You cannot change the past. You and Budic have a long history of resentment and distrust, but he is still your brother.”

  “Half-brother.” Alden corrected. Not many people knew that; it wasn’t something that was ever discussed, but it was the truth.

  “Your father loved him as his son.”

  “But he left the throne to Garren.”

  “Garren believed in Budic. Why can’t you?”

  “Because I know Budic better than he did,” Alden said, frustration penetrating his voice. “Garren felt sorry for him; he always saw the good in people, even when there was no good to be seen.”

  “I think that is unfair to Garren,” John said, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again he saw that Alden was looking at him, pain and compassion reflected in his eyes.

  “You look at me as if I am already dead,” John said, shaking his head slightly.

  Alden immediately lowered his gaze.

  It was more difficult than he had thought, dying. He wasn’t finished with life yet. He so wanted to see Alden to safety and maybe even to hold the boy’s baby in his arms. But he knew that would not be possible. His heart was failing him and it was only a matter of time. Oh well, no point becoming morbid about it. It happened to everyone in the end. And who knows, maybe there was life after death. Maybe Lancelot would be waiting for him on the other side. Oh, how he hoped so. He would welcome death if such an outcome were certain.

  “Budic is not a great King; we both agree on that.” John said. “Maybe, Garren would have made a better King. Alden, what ifs and maybes are not going to help. Budic has a fine army, because of Bastian, and Bastian agrees not with what Budic is doing to you. Bastian is loyal to a point and he is coming to the end of his tether, I know he is. If you were to dare to scratch the surface, you would find many who don’t agree with the stand Budic has taken with regards to Cerniw and Wessex. The people admire you. They see your father in you.”

  “I am not my father,” Alden answered. “I know everyone compares us, because I look like him, and I wish they did not. I cannot live up to what he was and I am fed up with trying.”

  “That is the point I am trying to make. You don’t have to. Alden, you are your own man and the people respect that.” John paused, and touched his hand to his heart. It had sped up again and he suddenly felt very weak and more than a little frightened. He didn’t want to die. “You must take his throne, my boy, because if you do not someone else will. And all that Lancelot fought for, all that he believed in, will be destroyed. I have seen this in a dream, and I do not want it to be a reality.”

  “You have been summoned too?” Merton asked, a serious expression in his eyes as he stood just outside the Great Hall.

  “I spoke to John,” Alden admitted in a low tone. “He is very ill, he said —”

  “ALDEN. MERTON. STOP LOITERING IN THE HALWAY AND COME IN.”

  Merton’s look told Alden they would finish their conversation later. They both turned and dutifully obeyed Budic’s barked command.

  Everyone was here, everyone of any importance, anyway. All bar John, who had been too ill to attend and had very, very reluctantly taken to his bed.

  “I have news,” Budic said, coming straight to the point as always. “Cerdic’s army is on the move again. I am told his eyes are on us, on Benwick. He wants his daughter and the man who spoiled her.” His gaze rested on Alden. “Should I give them to him in order to appease him? If I do, he will leave us alone. I have his word.”

  “And his word is worth so much?” Alden asked. “You would sell your own blood?” Alden stared hard at Budic. Budic returned the glare without blinking.

  Alden turned his attention to those who were gathered. “You may have heard a rumour that Annis of Wessex is no longer my wife. I would like to clear the matter up, now. There was no annulment. Annis is my wife and she will stay my wife, irrespective of what anyone else thinks on the matter.” Alden scowled at Budic, daring him to contradict. When Budic remained silent he continued, “My wife is with child. My child. You would murder not only me and my wife, but an innocent as well. You are very brave, Budic, to throw a helpless woman and a child not born to a pack of wolves while you orchestrate your own escape.”

  Something shifted in Budic’s eyes. Not guilt, never that, but fleetingly Alden wondered if he had detected panic.

  “I will not let you use me or my wife, or my child for that matter, as a bargaining tool for a peace that will not last. Ask yourselves,” Alden addressed the hall, “if Budic can sacrifice his own brother and his own niece or nephew, then who else could he sacrifice? How about you? You have always been loyal.” He pointed towards a noble, who quickly looked down at his feet. “Or you, Philippe. Or you, Marcus.” He pointed towards their cousins. “I lost Cerniw, but at least I sacrificed myself to try and save her and my people. Cerdic ignored all the knights’ rules for war. He butchered the innocent. I saw him do this with my own eyes. He is doing the same in Sussex as we speak. He will do the same to Brittany unless you put a stop to it right now, Budic. His treaties are not worth the parchment they are written on. I had a treaty. I had a peace treaty from Cerdic. It was merely a ploy, to put me off my guard as he set about invasion. He says he wants his daughter back. She helped me escape; she betrayed him. He wants her back so he can beat her black and blue and then hang her. If you don’t believe my words then I will show you the evidence of his mercy.” He unclasped his sword belt and gave it to Merton; he then pulled his tunic over his head. Thos
e in the hallway gasped as they saw the still-raised scars of the beating he had suffered at Cerdic’s hands. “This is how he treats his so-called allies,” Alden said. “I was lashed for every Wessex soldier my men killed. I could tell you the number, for it is engraved in my skin. Do you think you can hold talks with a beast such as this? If you think by appeasing him and giving in to his demands, that he will leave you alone, then you are as foolish as he is calculating.”

  He came to stand before his brother, looked at him and then fell to his knees. An astonished gasp reverberated around the hall, for never had Alden bowed down to his brother. “I am asking you for your protection for myself and for my wife, and our child. Our lives are in your hands.” Alden bowed his head, and he prayed that this was not a mistake.

  Budic looked down at his brother’s head in bewilderment. If those in the hall were shocked at Alden’s actions, Budic was lost for words. He looked back up, his eyes going to Merton.

  Merton’s face had lost all colour. He had killed so many and now his brother wore their deaths upon his back. No wonder he had wanted to know how many men he had killed. He sensed Budic’s gaze and he looked up. And as he did so, he realised that there was nothing he would not do for Alden. He would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for his failures. Without a second thought, he fell to his knees.