Nunnery Brides: A Medieval Romance Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Christopher understood something about stubborn women, considering he had married one. “How did you find out about the abduction?” he asked. “We were told the mercenary left one solitary nun alive to deliver the message to you.”

  Jax shook his head. “I know nothing about an old nun,” he said. “I received a missive declaring terms from who, I assume, is the mercenary himself. A mass of my daughter’s hair was enclosed with it. A week prior to that, however, I received a severed head that I determined to belong to my garrison commander at Ithon Castle. Although there was no written message, it was my first hint that something was amiss at my properties.”

  Christopher pondered that bit of information. “I see,” he muttered. “Then Ithon is compromised also?”

  “I would assume so.”

  Christopher fell silent for a moment, deliberating the conquest of Ithon. He hadn’t heard that. But soon his attention moved from Ithon’s conquest to the part about the hair. As a father himself, he could only imagine how de Velt felt receiving his daughter’s hair along with the threatening note.

  “De Boulers found out about the mercenary’s activities because of the old nun,” he said. “Somehow, someway, the commander of this mercenary army discovered your daughter was at Alberbury. The man bloody well destroyed the place to get to her.”

  Jax was trying not to appear sickened by the thought. “He wanted her very badly,” he muttered. “He is using her to get to me. He knows I will not stay away if she is in danger and that is evidently what he wants – a confrontation with me.”

  Christopher glanced at Edward to see if he could read the man’s expression. Edward seemed very intent on studying de Velt, analyzing the man. Edward was very good at that sort of thing. When he noticed that Christopher was looking at him, he cleared his throat softly and spoke.

  “We were told that the mercenary army is from Ireland,” he said. “They are not Welsh, and they are certainly not English, but whatever they are doing emulates the pattern you set twenty-five years ago when you moved over the Marches. Do you see the pattern with this, my lord?”

  Jax looked at the older knight. “I do,” he said. “If what you have said is accurate, everything on that list was a location I engaged except for Alberbury.”

  “Which means he will more than likely move on your other holdings very soon,” Christopher said. “I was not here those years ago when you claimed those castles. Is he moving in the order you moved in?”

  Jax nodded. “Indeed he is,” he said. “If his pattern holds true, he will move on Comen next.”

  “Do your men still man those castles?”

  “They do.”

  “Then mayhap you should tell them to vacate,” Christopher said. “They may come here if they wish. I will shelter them until you can figure out what you need to do.”

  Jax looked at him with a good deal of astonishment. “You would do this?” he asked, trying to keep the incredulity out of his tone. Then, he shook his head as if he could not believe what he was hearing. “Why would you do this?”

  Christopher kept an even expression. “You came to me for help,” he said. “I am offering it. Your men are in the path of destruction. Will you leave them to die or will you move them out?”

  Jax just stared at him. It was clear that he was having difficulty accepting that de Lohr was being so generous with him. After a moment, he began to shake his head in disbelief. “You know who I am,” he said, showing more force in his personality than he had since his arrival. “You know very well what my name means. You know what I did along the Marches those years ago. If I wanted your castle, de Lohr, it would not have mattered who you were or how well respected you were. I would have taken it and I would have put you on a stake, you above all else because of your title and name, and I would have planted that stake right outside of the walls of this castle for all to see. I would have done it and I would not have cared about anything other than my victory. You understand that, do you not?”

  Christopher could see a hint of the killer in the man as he spoke, but he responded calmly. “I understand,” he said. “But I also understand that you haven’t done that kind of thing in over twenty years. You said you stopped when you met your wife. I, too, was something of a focused man before I met my wife. I earned a reputation no one has surpassed and that was all I cared about. The men I killed were on the sands of The Levant, Muslims fighting for the land they were born in, but I didn’t care. I cut their heads off and mounted them on spikes. I wasn’t fighting for England at that point. I was fighting for me because I wanted the glory and I got it. But the man that I was long ago no longer exists, just as I believe the man you were long ago no longer exists. Am I wrong in this assumption?”

  Jax shook his head slowly, his gaze riveted to Christopher’s. “Nay,” he said. “When I met my wife, all things changed.”

  “What a coincidence. The same thing happened to me.”

  The statement had a humorous ring to it and Jax fought off a smile. “The woman I married is stronger than I am,” he said. “I suspect the same thing can be said for your wife.”

  Christopher nodded. “She is strong beyond comprehension,” he replied. “But that brings me to the point – you are no longer the killer you used to be. I understand that. But I also understand that this mercenary has challenged the man who once existed. If you confront him now, as you are, then you will be confronting him as an emotional father and that will be your downfall. Do you want my advice in this matter? I hope you do because I am going to tell you whether or not you want to hear it. This mercenary is as you were twenty-five years ago, a soulless beast. When you confront him, you are going to have to draw on that monster that has long been dormant inside of you. He is still there. I caught a glimpse of him only a moment ago. You will have to become the monster again if you want to save your daughter. The mercenary commander is calling forth Lucifer and Lucifer must appear.”

  Jax listened to him seriously. Everything he said made perfect sense. He paused, sighed heavily and moved to pour himself more wine. He was coming to need it.

  “May I tell you the truth?” he asked softly.

  Christopher nodded. “Please.”

  Jax eyed him as he set the pitcher down. “My wife sent me here to see you,” he said. “She is afraid that if I confront this mercenary, that it will only agitate him. She knows the man is out for my blood and she is terrified that she will lose both her husband and her daughter in this crisis. You are a man with a great reputation for wisdom and fairness. She wants me to ask you if you will be an intermediary between me and the mercenary. She hopes that by dealing with you, the man who holds my daughter will be less confrontational. He may even be willing to negotiate. I realize I do not know you, de Lohr. We are not friends or allies, and what I ask of you is terribly bold. But I ask on behalf of my wife who is terrified for my life and for the life of our daughter. I do not wish to pull you into a blood feud, but I pray that you will consider it. That is the help I was coming to ask from you. I swear to you that if you assist me with this, I shall ever be in your debt. All you need do is call and I will ride for you. My sword will be yours. Mayhap it is not much, but it is all I have to offer – myself.”

  Christopher didn’t say anything for a moment. He just sat and looked at him and it was clear that there were many thoughts running through his head. Many, indeed. After a few moments of deliberation, he turned to Edward.

  “Send Dustin to me,” he said softly.

  Eyeing de Velt, Edward stood up from the table and left the hall, taking the stairs just inside the entry to the living quarters above. Jax watched the man go and when he disappeared from view, he couldn’t help but look to Christopher curiously. Christopher smiled weakly and picked up the pitcher of wine.

  “A moment, please,” he said, pouring more into Jax’s cup as he shifted the subject. “I purchased this wine in London last fall. It comes from a region in France where the monks tend these tiny dark grapes. My wife is quite fo
nd of it but I warn you, it will get you drunk quite fast if you do not pace yourself. That has happened to me a few times.”

  Jax took his cup and drank deeply. “It is very good,” he said. “Sweet. My wife would like it as well, as she tends to like sweet wines. Anything else puts her to sleep.”

  Christopher set the pitcher down and collected his own cup. “Tell me of your wife,” he said. “What is her name?”

  “Kellington,” Jax replied. “Lady Kellington Coleby de Velt.”

  “And how did your marriage come about? Were your families allies?”

  Jax tried not to look too embarrassed. “Nay,” he grunted, appearing somewhat uncomfortable. “One of those castles I confiscated… she was a captive.”

  Christopher was amused. “I suppose that is one way to meet women,” he said. “Did you force her to marry you?”

  Jax struggled not to grin. “We fell in love,” he said. “After I had killed all of her friends, of course. It would be fair to say that our beginnings were quite rough, but in spite of everything, we managed to become fond of each other. I have loved the woman madly for twenty-five years.”

  Christopher grinned. “You sincerely do not appear to me like the killer of legend,” he said. “You seem quite normal, in fact, because only a man with feeling and conscience would admit to loving a woman. I still can hardly believe you are Ajax de Velt, the Beast Who Destroyed the Marches.”

  Jax let his smile break free, grinning at Christopher over the top of his wine cup. “I will tell you a secret.”

  “What?”

  “I really would not have gone after Lioncross Abbey those years ago. There are some men I will attack and some I will not. I am not entirely sure I would be victorious over you, so it is better not to try.”

  Christopher started to laugh. “I was not at Lioncross twenty-five years ago,” he said. “My wife’s father was the lord at that time and, I hate to say, you probably could have bested him. But I am glad you did not.”

  Jax’s eyebrows lifted. “Do you mean to tell me that I missed a grand opportunity?”

  They were snorting when Edward appeared in the hall again, followed by a woman clad in a fine linen surcoat. Jax turned to look at her. She was petite, with a glorious curvy figure and a mass of blond hair that trailed all the way to her knees. As she drew closer, Jax could see that she was truly an exquisite woman, exceptionally beautiful. The woman approached the table, looking at Jax rather curiously. Christopher held out a hand to her.

  “My lady, thank you for coming,” he said, kissing her hand before turning to Jax. “My lord, this is my wife, the Lady Dustin Barringdon de Lohr. Dustin, this is Sir Ajax de Velt. He is our guest.”

  Dustin’s curious expression faded somewhat. Like everyone else on the Marches, or in England for that matter, she recognized the name. She didn’t quite remember what she knew of him, but she had definitely heard the name. Something told her there wasn’t a good association with it, but those years back when Jax had been tearing up the Marches, she had been far too young to remember.

  “Welcome to Lioncross, my lord,” she said. Then, she turned to her husband. “Did you need to speak with me?”

  Christopher continued to hold her hand, not putting it against his cheek. “Indeed,” he said, eyeing Jax. “It would seem that de Velt has a problem. A terrible man has abducted his daughter and he has asked me to mediate. What do you think of that?”

  Dustin was immediately swamped with sympathy and outrage. It was written all over her face. She looked at Jax.

  “I am so terribly sorry to hear that,” she said sincerely. “How old is your daughter?”

  Something about the woman reminded him of Kellington, although he couldn’t put his finger on it. There was something in her eyes, a flame of strength that burned within the depths. Allaston had that flame, too.

  “She has seen nineteen years, my lady,” he replied. “She was a novice nun at Alberbury Priory.”

  Distress creased Dustin’s features. “She is so young,” she said sadly. “Who is this man who has abducted her?”

  “A mercenary,” Christopher answered softly. “He is using the girl to lure Jax to him. He has a vendetta against the man, so de Velt has asked me to intervene. He wants his daughter back and wishes to keep his life in the process.”

  “Of course he does,” Dustin said vehemently. “What does he want you to do?”

  “Talk to the mercenary, I believe,” he said, looking at Jax. “Is that what you meant?”

  Jax nodded. “I was hoping you would.”

  “Of course he will,” Dustin said before Christopher could reply. “If he will not, I will go in his stead. We have two young daughters, my lord. I can only imagine my agony if one of my daughters was in danger. Turn me loose on the man and I guarantee you shall have your daughter back.”

  There was such fire in the woman. Jax was rather taken aback at her passion, looking to de Lohr to see if the woman was serious. From the look on de Lohr’s face, it was evident that she was. Christopher kissed his wife’s hand again before gently pushing her back in the direction of the stairs that led to the living rooms above.

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with mock patience because he was trying to get rid of her. “Before I answered de Velt, I wanted to see what you thought of it. Thank you for your input.”

  Dustin wouldn’t leave so readily. She was still looking at de Velt. “My husband will make sure he pays for the crime of abducting your daughter,” she said. “Have no fear that he will do what he can.”

  “Thank you, my lady,” Christopher said, more loudly so she would get the hint and leave the room. He turned to smile at her to make sure she left before he continued the conversation. “Your advice is priceless. We thank you very much.”

  Dustin was still fired up over the abduction of the young girl, muttering threats to the abductor as she left the hall. Both Christopher and Jax listened to her as she quit the room and headed up the steps to the upper floors. When she was out of earshot, Christopher turned to Jax.

  “She tends to get excited over things,” he said, “but I must have her approval before I do anything and I had to make it seem as if it were her decision. Otherwise, she would give me extreme grief for involving myself in someone else’s battle.”

  Jax laughed softly. He couldn’t help it. “Your wife and my wife are cut out of the same cloth,” he said. “I understand completely.”

  Christopher grinned but soon sobered as he thought on the task that lay before him. After a moment, he spoke.

  “There is something more you should know about this mercenary,” he said. “I assume he gave you a name when he sent his missive to you about your daughter?”

  Jax nodded. “Bretton de Llion.”

  Christopher drew in a long, thoughtful breath. “I heard that name also,” he said, “and it was familiar to me, so I contacted a vassal whom I believed to be related to the name. It turns out that the name Bretton de Llion was the name of my vassal’s cousin, a cousin who lived at Four Crosses Castle when you attacked it. De Llion was the name of the garrison commander and Bretton was his son. We thought that somehow the boy survived the siege, which makes sense if this mercenary who calls himself Bretton de Llion is out for revenge against you. It would make him the son of a man you killed.”

  Jax appeared rather surprised by the revelation. He thought back to those dark and bloody days, thinking of Four Crosses Castle, which was the last castle he confiscated along the Marches. He had put one of his best generals in charge of it, Apollo l’Ancresse. The man still lived there with his wife and children and grandchildren. Unlike his other general, Orion, who no longer lived at Cloryn, Apollo still inhabited the castle he was assigned after the conquest. But along with that information, Jax also remembered something else.

  “Four Crosses,” he muttered. “I recall the place very well. A big castle with no moat and a big gatehouse. You say that this mercenary is a survivor of that siege?”

  Chri
stopher nodded. “That is the suspicion.”

  Jax thought hard on that possibility. “Four Crosses was different from the other castles I confiscated,” he said. “It was the last one so mayhap I was feeling a bit more lenient because we did not kill everyone. We took some men and forced them into servitude.”

  Christopher listened with interest. “Do you have any of these men left in your service?”

  Jax shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Those men have either died or have moved on. One man, a knight from Four Crosses, actually serves de Vesci. He is an older man and somewhat diminished mentally from a blow he received to the head during the siege of Four Crosses, but he is as strong as an ox. In fact, de Vesci keeps him as a bodyguard of sorts. The man can barely speak a full sentence but he can still kill.”

  “What is the knight’s name?”

  “John Morgan.”

  Christopher stared at him a moment. Then, his eyebrows lifted. “Morgan de Llion was the name of the commander at Four Crosses,” he said, rather shocked at the potential implications. “Is it possible that de Llion’s father lived?”

  Jax was rather surprised at the implications, too. “I suppose it is,” he said. “When we found the knight, he was incoherent. He gave his name as Morgan and we thought it was his surname.”

  “Is it possible it was his first name?”

  Jax shrugged. “It is possible, but you know as well as I do that Morgan is a very common surname in Wales.”

  Christopher was thinking many different things at that moment, not the least of which was utter neutralization of the mercenary and the return of Jax’s daughter. He was a man who thought quickly on his feet because his life often depended on it. The more he pondered the thought, the more enthusiastic about it he became.