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England's Greatest Knights: A Medieval Romance Collection

Page 17

by Kathryn Le Veque


  “I am sorry that your wife fell ill, my lord,” he said through, Gallus was sure, clenched teeth, “but you can surely afford great care for her. I want my daughter returned home.”

  Gallus wasn’t going to let de Lara bully him. More than that, the man was being plain rude. Bracing his big, gloved hand on his thigh, he leaned forward and looked the man in the eye.

  “I can afford the best care in England for her,” he said. “But that is not the point. The point is that your daughter graciously volunteered to sit with her and tend her so that my wife is not being attended by people she does not know. Your daughter is a generous and giving individual, qualities you do not seem to have. Kindly tell me why you were so hospitable and kind to my brother last evening and then today you treat us as if we have done something unspeakably wrong. Well? I am waiting.”

  De Lara eyed Maximus as the man sat, emotionless, astride his black and white steed, waiting and watching for Kellen’s reply. Kellen, however, was reconsidering his attitude after Gallus’ scolding. Nothing the man had said was untrue. He simply didn’t like anyone to point it out. It was his prerogative to behave however he wished, especially with his daughter at stake.

  “I am grateful to Sir Maximus for saving my daughters from a burning building, my lord,” he finally said. “But you must understand that I am very protective of my children. I do not like it when they are out of my sight. I worry just as any father would. The fact that your wife promised to bring my daughter home at sunset, yet she is not here, concerns me greatly.”

  Gallus scowled. “Why should it?” he said. “You know where she is. You know she is with my wife. She is safe and comfortable. Why on earth should you be concerned for her safety?”

  Kellen was starting to become flustered. “You do not understand,” he said. “Since my wife died, it has only been me and my girls. I am naturally protective of them.”

  Gallus waved him off impatiently. “My first wife died two years ago this summer,” he said. “I have two small daughters and I am protective of them as well, so do not speak to me of being protective of your children. Your daughter is safe and I need her help. I will bring her back to you as soon as my wife has sufficiently recovered.”

  Kellen wasn’t happy with that directive, not in the least. “Where is my daughter?” he demanded one last time. “You will take me to her immediately.”

  Gallus sighed sharply. “She is at The One-Eyed Raven Inn,” he told him. “If you want to go to her, then you will do it on your own, but if you go near my wife in your attempt to get to your daughter, know that I will strike hard and strike fast. No man goes near my wife. Is that in any way unclear?”

  Now, threats were being leveled and Kellen was forced to back down. He didn’t need the Thunder Lord as an enemy but he was rapidly heading in that direction. He glanced at St. Héver, standing next to him, seeking the man’s silent support, but all he received was an impassive expression in return. At that point, he was coming to think that perhaps he was looking like a fool for being so demanding and rude. After a moment, he lifted his hand in a gesture that implied a reluctant surrender.

  “It is clear, my lord,” he said. “I am not attempting to offend you. I simply want my daughter returned to me, as your wife promised.”

  Gallus would not accept the man’s apology. “What you have done is insult my honor and my wife’s honor,” he said coldly. “You have implied great distrust in us as if we have done something to deserve it. Do you always treat people this way, de Lara? It is a wonder you have any allies at all.”

  Kellen could see that he had, indeed, insulted de Shera a good deal. He would have to attempt to mend that state if he wanted to keep his standing in de Montfort’s rebellion. Insulting the Lords of Thunder was not a way to get ahead in life, or at least in de Montfort’s world. With a heavy sigh, he struggled to appear submissive, at least as much as he could. He was a stubborn man, however, and it was difficult.

  “You will forgive me, my lord,” he said, laboring to spit out the words. “Will you please come inside and enjoy some refreshments? Allow me to at least make amends for my slander against you and your wife. That was truly not my intent.”

  Gallus glanced at Maximus, who was more than willing to go with the man. They both realized that this would be the perfect opportunity for Gallus to present a marital contract to de Lara, especially now that they had the upper hand against him. De Lara had been scolded and now he was being rather docile because he had tried to stir up a battle he had no chance of winning. Maximus intended to take advantage of his surrender because, in those first few tense moments after they’d arrived, he could see what Courtly was talking about when she described her father’s protectiveness over his daughters. I am not entirely sure what drives my father to chase away all suitors, she had said. Maximus could clearly see what she had meant. Kellen was a zealot when it came to the protection of his daughters. Therefore, he knew to proceed carefully.

  “Then we accept,” Gallus finally said, only when he received Maximus’ imperceptible nod. “Lead the way, de Lara. Let us see if your hospitality is enough to ease my anger against you.”

  Kellen had his soldiers open up the big, iron gates and usher in de Shera and his men. Gallus had his soldiers take up station near the gate, away from the bulk of de Lara men who were across the bailey and closer to the great hall. Scott, Troy, and Stefan had accompanied them to Kennington and when Gallus and Maximus entered the hall that Maximus had feasted in the night before, the knights followed with a somewhat suspicious manner. Having seen de Lara’s fit, they weren’t entirely sure that they weren’t in enemy territory and were on their guard.

  The big hall of Kennington was cold and dark when they entered and Kellen immediately set about starting a fire in the hearth, but he had to do it himself because Ellice was still keeping her servants hidden. Gallus thought it was all rather odd until he remembered what Maximus had said about the night before, how Lady Courtly had been forced to cook the entire feast because of a disagreement between her father and his sister. As Kellen tended the hearth, which must have been embarrassing for him, Gallus leaned in to his brother.

  “I see what you mean about the de Lara’s sister absconding with her servants,” he muttered. “Was it like this last eve, too?”

  Maximus nodded, looking around. “It was,” he said. “But the aunt was here this morning. In fact, it was she who insisted that Courtly attend Jeniver on her trip. De Lara tried to tell us that he needed Courtly to tend her younger sister but the aunt volunteered. I wonder where the aunt is?”

  Gallus lifted his eyebrows in agreement. “Excellent question,” he said quietly, then spoke louder as he addressed Kellen. “I understand your sister lives here, de Lara. Will she join us?”

  Kellen threw more pieces of kindling on his infantile blaze. “She will not,” he said. “She is tending my younger daughter.”

  “Where are they?”

  Kellen looked over his shoulder at Gallus. “In their chambers, I would think,” he said. “I do not expect them to join us.”

  Gallus turned back to his brother although he was eyeing Kellen oddly. “So he keeps the women hidden when male guests arrive,” he muttered. “Strange.”

  Maximus shook his head. “He did not keep them hidden last night.”

  “That is because he did not view you as a threat. Now, he evidently does, to any and all women in his family.”

  Maximus was fairly certain that was the truth, which worried him for the marital negotiations to come. But he sat down when Kellen indicated for him to sit at the same feasting table he had occupied the previous evening, and even in the same seat. But instead of Gallus on his right, last night it had been Courtly. Already, he missed her and the growing bond they had. Her smile, the warmth of her hand… he missed everything. He wished very much that she was sitting beside him.

  Kellen’s soldiers apparently had kitchen duty this night because two of them came from the small door that led to the kitchen y
ard bearing trays of cups and two big pitchers. But it was clear they resented the duty because they weren’t very polite or even very competent when distributing cups and setting down the pitchers. Wooden cups tumbled and rolled, and wine splashed from one of the pitchers, set down heavily, and splashed on Scott’s tunic. The de Wolfe brother was visibly displeased at the dark purple stain on his shoulder.

  If Kellen noticed that his soldiers were being rude, he didn’t speak up. He poured himself a full measure of wine and drank deeply before Gallus had even been served. Casting Maximus a long glance indicative of his feelings on de Lara’s bad manners, Gallus passed the wine pitcher to his brother before taking a drink of the tart, cheap wine.

  “Your younger daughter,” Gallus started the conversation. “How old is she?”

  Kellen looked up from his cup. “She has seen eleven years,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”

  Gallus shrugged his shoulders. “Simply to make conversation,” he said. “Why is she not fostering at that age?”

  Kellen was starting to look displeased again. “Because I never sent her away,” he said snappishly. “She was quite young when her mother passed and I never had the heart to do it. You said you had two daughters. How old are they?”

  Gallus didn’t appreciate the man’s rather confrontational tone but he let it go for the moment, especially since he wanted something from the man. “My eldest, Violet, is five years of age and her sister, Lily, is almost four,” he replied steadily. “They are not old enough to foster yet if that is what you were going to ask.”

  Kellen simply downed more wine because that was exactly what he was going to ask and he was frustrated that de Shera was one step ahead of him. “See if you do not send them away when they come of age,” he said knowingly. “It is more difficult than you think.”

  Gallus lifted his eyebrows in agreement. “I absolutely believe that,” he said. “Sending your daughters away to foster is much like sending them off to marriage. It is quite difficult to let them go but it is necessary.”

  Brilliant! Maximus thought as he cast his brother a casual glance. Gallus was leading up to the subject of their visit. But Maximus kept his mouth shut and let Gallus take the lead. He was much better at negotiations than Maximus was. Maximus tended to swing a sword first and ask questions later.

  Kellen, however, didn’t think Gallus’ statement was brilliant or relevant. He had nearly drained his wine cup by now and was moving to pour himself more.

  “Why is it necessary?” he wanted to know. “I see nothing necessary about marrying off daughters. It is simply a way for a man to gain your money through a dowry. Moreover, once your daughter is married, she no longer belongs to you. She belongs to a stranger.”

  Both Gallus and Maximus were coming to understand a great deal of how Kellen thought of marriage in that brief statement. “Not necessarily,” Gallus said. “If your daughter marries someone you know, a fine man that you approve of, who wants nothing from you including a dowry, that would be quite an excellent circumstance for your daughter. Not only does she have a fine husband, but you keep your money.”

  He laughed as he said it, hoping Kellen would, too. He was attempting to ease the man into the idea of his daughter being married. But Kellen saw no humor in the statement so Gallus wiped the smile off his face and took another drink of wine, thinking on his strategy.

  “Men are only after money,” Kellen reiterated as he started in on his second cup of wine. “They do not care for the women they marry.”

  Gallus shook his head. “That is not true,” he said. “I love my wife dearly and I took her without a dowry, although when I married her, I inherited Anglesey from her father. It is a fine legacy to pass down to my son. Wouldn’t you want a grandson to pass your legacy down to?”

  Kellen frowned. “I have not thought on it,” he said. “Although… although I will admit that I have been thinking on marrying again so I can have a son. Daughters are useless and expensive.”

  Gallus stopped drinking his wine. He was more interested in watching Kellen’s guard come down the more the man drank. Before he drank himself into oblivion, Gallus needed to act. He was very careful in how he proceeded.

  “They do not have to be,” Gallus said. “Daughters could actually bring you some wealth instead.”

  He purposely said it to pique Kellen’s curiosity, which it did. The man cocked his head thoughtfully. “How?” he asked.

  Gallus had him where he wanted him. “Let me see if I can think of an example,” he said, pretending to ponder the situation. “Hypothetically speaking, let us say that a man comes to you and offers for your eldest daughter. He is a wealthy man from a good family with excellent connections. Let us say that instead of expecting a dowry, he offers you lands in Cheshire that belong to him. The lands are part of a bigger estate, but what he will offer you is a gift of land that produces over a hundred acres of barley a year and has a small village attached to it, a town that you can draw revenue from. Now, for that kind of gift, you would gain quite a bit of wealth and keep your daughter’s dowry. Would you not find that manner of offer attractive?”

  Gallus and Maximus held their breath as Kellen mulled over the proposal. It was hard to tell just how seriously he was considering it because the wine was already having an effect on his manner – his face was flushed and his eyelids were droopy.

  “Mayhap,” Kellen finally said. “But I am not sure I can let my daughter leave me.”

  Gallus didn’t let up. “But you said yourself that you were considering marrying again,” he pointed out. “A house cannot have two queens. If you take a wife, your daughter will be unwanted in her eyes. You must allow your daughter to have a house and husband of her own.”

  Kellen’s brows drew together. It was clear that he was considering that scenario but Gallus didn’t want to give him too much time to think about it. He continued.

  “My lord, consider this,” he said. “I have found your daughter an excellent husband from an excellent family who will gladly give you a portion of wealthy lands in exchange for your daughter’s hand. That is an offer any sane man would readily accept.”

  Kellen looked at Gallus, shocked. “You…?” he stammered. “You have found my daughter a husband?”

  Gallus nodded. Then, he looked at Maximus, for it was time to bring him into the conversation. “My brother, Maximus, would like to offer for Lady Courtly’s hand,” he said with satisfaction. “He will make it a most attractive offer, my lord. You will consider it.”

  Kellen looked at Maximus. He simply stared at him, without much emotion at first, but then it was as if Gallus’ words suddenly sank deep and he realized what had just been said. The man’s mouth popped open in outrage and he slammed his fists down on the table hard enough to spill the wine.

  “You!” he bellowed. “I knew you wanted her! I could tell when you came here last eve that you were determined to have my daughter. Well, I will not have it, do you hear? You cannot have her no matter what you offer. Do you think she can be bought like… like a cow? Is that what you think?”

  His anger was not surprising but Gallus and Maximus remained calm, particularly Maximus. He wanted something and he wasn’t going to leave without getting it.

  “It is not a cow I am bartering for, my lord,” Maximus said politely. “It is compensation for a daughter I am offering. I want to marry your daughter and I shall. It is your choice whether or not you accept any compensation for her.”

  Kellen was drunk and outraged. He stood up, falling over the bench in his haste to move away from the table as Gallus, Maximus, and the de Shera knights rose to their feet. Kellen finally stumbled to his feet, pointing accusing fingers at Maximus.

  “Where is my child?” he demanded. “You have her! I want her back!”

  Maximus, standing on the other side of the table, crossed his arms stubbornly. “Nay.”

  It was the only thing he said. Kellen, expecting something more by way of an answer, realized that it would not
be an easy thing to get his daughter back and his hysteria went from bad to worse.

  “Give her back to me,” he seethed, going for the broadsword at his side. “Give her back to me or I will kill you!”

  The de Shera knights unsheathed their swords as well. Kellen’s bellows had invited the interest of his soldiers, just outside the hall, and when one looked in and happened to see Kellen with his sword drawn, more de Lara swords began to come out. The de Shera soldiers, across the bailey, then saw the de Lara men with weapons and their weapons came out, too. It was a chain reaction that had the de Shera men rushing the de Lara soldiers and, very shortly, the entire bailey deteriorated into a massive brawl.

  “This is going badly,” Gallus said, hearing the fighting outside. “Unless we want blood on our hands, I suggest we leave.”

  Maximus looked at his brother, stricken. “But…”

  Gallus grabbed at him. “We will live to fight another day, Max. We cannot accomplish anything more tonight.”

  Maximus was never one to back down from a fight. Moreover, he had an emotional investment in this situation.

  “I came to gain his consent in marrying Courtly,” he pointed out as Kellen was fended off by Scott and Troy. “I am not leaving until I have it.”

  Gallus shot him an exasperated look. “Can you possibly be serious right now?” he asked. “Look at the man. He will not give his consent tonight. We must leave this place before one or more of us ends up impaled on the end of a broadsword.”

  Maximus was quickly growing furious as he watched Kellen do battle against the de Wolfe brothers. It was like watching two cats toy with a mouse. Kellen was a decent knight, but the de Wolfe brothers had their father’s legendary skill. As Gallus tried to pull him away, Maximus yanked himself from his brother’s grasp and charged Kellen, shoving Troy aside and knocking Kellen’s broadsword away with his gloved hand. It was a very skilled, and very powerful, move. With a great shove, Kellen ended up on his arse, weaponless, as Maximus stood over him.

 

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