The Dark Spawn (Battle Lords of de Velt Book 5)

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “I see,” Corisande said. “Then you’re really a farmer.”

  “I am, my lady.”

  “It is noble of you to want to earn money for your family.”

  “Will I be sent home because I was hurt?”

  Corisande shook her head. “Of course not,” she said. “But I must stitch your gash. I am going to put something on it to cleanse it, and it will sting a little, but I know you are brave. Then I will quickly stitch it up so you will only have the smallest scar. You can tell your mother and father that you were very courageous in battle.”

  The young man nodded briefly, unsteadily, and Corisande silently motioned to the servant to hold the young man’s head steady. As the servant clamped down on the young soldier’s head, Corisande quickly swabbed the wound in the wine and vinegar solution. The young man made a pained face but, to his credit, he didn’t cry out.

  Quickly, Corisande stitched up the gash. Unfortunately, it was a jagged cut and it took thirteen fine, careful stitches. But when she was done, she swabbed the wound with the solution again and made sure she removed all of the dirt and sweat she could see. By this time, the cook had sent out more clean bandages and she left the male servant to carefully wrap the young soldier’s head.

  But the young soldier smiled gratefully at her.

  Standing up, she turned to the hall to see who needed her help next and was startled to see Cole standing a few feet away.

  He was watching her closely.

  “Cole?” she said with concern, moving towards him. “Are you injured?”

  He shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “But Addax was hit in the head, twice, by a very big Scotsman with a club, so I brought him here. He has a bloody nose and ears.”

  “Where is he?”

  Cole pointed to the opposite side of the hall, near the hearth, and they could both see Addax there, propped up against the wall.

  Corisande went over to him.

  “Someone tried to bash your brains in, did they?” she said as she knelt down beside him. “I hope you punished him severely.”

  Addax’s dark eyes glimmered with mirth. “I did not,” he said wearily. “But Cole did.”

  “He did?”

  Addax sat still as she inspected his face to see where the blood was coming from. “He cut his head off,” he said “I saw it rolling off into the grass along with his hand. I am certain Cole would have chopped the man to pieces had I not been bleeding all over myself. He chose to seek help for me rather than continue his revenge.”

  Corisande lost some of her humor as she looked up at Cole, who gazed back at her neutrally. As if he hadn’t just partially hacked a man to death. Truth be told, she wasn’t surprised to hear that given Cole’s size and skill, but that same man spoke to her sweetly and with vulnerability… to think of him cutting off a head jarred her, just a little.

  She had to remember that he was a de Velt.

  He was a killer.

  “He made the right choice,” Corisande said, returning her attention to Addax. “Now, let me take a look at you. May we remove your helm?”

  Between her and Cole, they managed to get the dented helm off and Corisande went to work. Standing at Addax’ feet, holding on to the man’s damaged helm, Cole simply watched her.

  All he could seem to do was watch her.

  Corisande had been with the young soldier with the gash on his head when he’d arrived with Addax, lugging the man over to the spot where he was now. It hadn’t taken him long to find her in the hall, bent over a young man and reassuring him that everything would be well in the end.

  Dressed in a brown broadcloth dress with a linen apron, stained, her long hair was pulled into a braid that trailed down her back and she wore a kerchief over her head to keep it away from her face. Cole had been struck by her confidence, her kindness, and her fluid beauty as she tended to the young soldier and deftly stitched up his head. There was something about Corisande that made him feel reassured and comforted, something he’d never experienced before.

  Not even with Mary.

  Mary had been a sweet woman who had been obedient to a fault, and at the time they were married, that was what Cole needed. He hadn’t been eager to marry as it was, so a wife who somewhat blended in with the house and hold and never gave him any trouble was perfect for him. He didn’t exactly ignore Mary, but he wasn’t as attentive as he could have been. He knew that. Little Lucy came and he’d found himself being more thoughtful of his little family, enjoying it more than he thought he would have. Then the fever struck.

  He’d been away at the time, at Alnwick Castle on an errand for his father. He’d been gone five days and in those days, his wife and child had succumbed to the same fever. It had been vicious and fast and overwhelming, and he well recalled returning home to find his mother and father waiting for him in the bailey. He didn’t believe anything they told him until he saw the bodies for himself.

  Sometimes, that episode of his life seemed like a bad dream and he had regrets about it. Regrets that he wasn’t the father and husband he could have been. Regrets that he’d never once told his wife that he loved her.

  Perhaps that was why Corisande gave him hope.

  He was older now, and wiser, and he understood the value of a good woman. There was part of him that always wanted to marry a woman who was like his own mother – smart, focused, determined, loving. He found that he required more than a pretty girl who made herself scarce. He wanted a wife he could be proud of and in watching Corisande, it struck him that she was exactly that – someone he could be proud of. Someone he could boast of to other men, telling them that he had a wife who was strong, brilliant, beautiful, and loving.

  Wasn’t that what all men wanted?

  Cole watched Corisande examine Addax, looking at both eyes, inspecting the split scalp on the back of his head, the one that bled so profusely that when bent over as he had been, blood had streamed into his ears and nose and mouth. It was all from that gash to the back of the head, as Corisande determined, and she went through the same process with Addax that she’d gone through with the soldier. She cleaned, she rinsed, she stitched, and she bandaged, and Addax was well-tended.

  Corisande wanted him to rest, however, so Cole escorted the man back to the knight’s quarters and watched him as he climbed into his borrowed bed. Addax didn’t want to stay in the hall with everyone else, but simply be alone to recover. Cole left him alone, sprawled out on his bed, and returned to the great hall.

  He found Corisande supervising a young, dark-haired woman as she cleaned up an eye injury. Cole seemed to remember seeing the lass when he’d feasted with Alastor and the de Bourne brother and he was told that she was a ward. It was the Gratiana Corisande had spoken of. When Corisande looked up and saw him standing behind her, she left her post and went to him.

  “Is Addax lying down?” she asked.

  He nodded. “He is,” he said. “But I always thought that men with head injuries should not sleep. Should we send a servant to keep him awake?”

  She shook her head. “I do not think there is anything to worry over,” she said. “He is exhausted from battle and some blood loss, but I did not see anything else that was concerning. It is right that he should rest now. No more fighting for him.”

  Cole took her word for it. “As you say,” he said. “But there is more for me. I should return to the battle and help your brothers.”

  She grew serious. “Must you?”

  “I must, unfortunately.”

  “Did you really cut that man’s head and hand off?”

  “I did.”

  “But why his hand?”

  He gestured, lifting his left hand to his face. “Because he raised his hand to stop me and it got in the way,” he said, watching her features ripple with distress. “Would you rather I did not and let him kill Addax?”

  “Of course not,” she said, growing frustrated. “I simply meant… I do not know what I meant. I’ve seen battle before. I know what happens. That doe
s not mean I like it or understand it. The next injured man they bring in here could be you and I would not like that at all, Cole. I think it would make me sick.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “This is our first real test of coming to know one another,” he said. “I can see that you are a competent, knowledgeable healer, and you can see that I am a knight who will fight to the last man. You have your vocation and I have mine.”

  She eyed him. “I know what you are,” she said. “My father and brothers are the same. But with you…”

  She stopped herself and turned away, but he reached out and grasped her by the arm, preventing her from moving away. “But with me what?”

  Corisande shook her head and tried, weakly, to pull her arm away. “It does not matter,” she said. “I have already said too much. If you really do intend to return to battle, please be careful.”

  He didn’t let her go, but his grip wasn’t crushing. It was firm, strong. She finally stopped trying to pull away and just stood there, turned away from him.

  “Cori,” he said in a soft, seductive purr. “Look at me.”

  Slowly, she did. He smiled faintly at her when their eyes met. “It is my duty to return,” he murmured. “But for you, I will be especially careful. Only for you.”

  Corisande returned his smile, however reluctantly. “You must think I am a terrible bother,” she said. “I have no right to even suggest that you should be careful. I am no one to make such a request.”

  His smile faded. “That is not true,” he said. “You are someone to me and, God willing, you will become more important by the day. As I said, this is all part of coming to know each other and, unfortunately, we are doing it under strained circumstances. But this will pass.”

  She gave him a long look. “It will not be the last battle you ever attend.”

  His grin was back. “Nay, it will not be,” he said. “But I’ve done fairly well until now. It is my intention to keep my limbs and body intact because I do not want you sticking needles in me like you did to Addax and that young soldier. You would probably do it excessively hard simply to punish me.”

  Corisande started giggling. “Are you telling me that you are not afraid of a broadsword, but you are afraid of a little needle?”

  He finally let her go, chuckling because she was. “Do not laugh at me,” he said, pretending to be wounded. “I have had my share of stitches and they hurt like the blazes, so if I can avoid them, I will.”

  Corisande found that quite funny. “You are an immoveable object, a knight of the highest order,” she said. “But if I come at you with a needle, will you faint?”

  “I might.”

  She burst out into gales of laughter that were cut short when Alastor entered the hall. Seeing Corisande and Cole, he rushed in their direction.

  “They are leaving,” he said to Cole. “The Scots, I mean. They’re finally leaving. We’ve got more wounded, so I am going to open the portcullis to admit my army.”

  Cole was already on the move, unsheathing his broadsword. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “In case the Scots decide to turn around, I’ll be standing at the mouth of the gatehouse to discourage them.”

  Alastor turned around and rushed out, preceding Cole from the hall. Cole may have been focused, but he hadn’t forgotten Corisande. He paused at the hall entry long enough to turn around and wink at her.

  And then he was gone.

  Corisande stood there for a moment, replaying that wink over in her mind a few times before returning to her duties. Not strangely, she couldn’t keep the smile from her face or the giddiness from her heart.

  Not strangely, she was coming to like the man who so badly wanted to court her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Berwick

  One month later

  The tavern was called Blankenship and it sat in the wharf area of Berwick’s seedier side, a district called Hide Hill. This lower section of society contained all of the dregs, thieves, pickpockets, robbers, and thugs that one could imagine, all of them using the dingy buildings as hovels and lairs during the day. When night came, like vermin, they would wander out to find their victims.

  Berwick had been through a great deal of turmoil over the past hundred years or so, with the English in charge of mighty Berwick Castle, then the Scots, then the English again until Richard the Lionheart sold Berwick to the Scots to raise funds for his foray into The Levant.

  The Scots didn’t seem to have much interest in law and order. The castle at Berwick, an enormous bastion with a massive keep, had become no better than a stable with all of the Scots living there like animals. A man named Shaw MacHeth was in command of the garrison, so Addax and Essien had discovered.

  In fact, that had been their task – to discover what they could about Berwick.

  After MacDuff’s attack on The Keld, Cole and Addax had returned to Pelinom Castle to tell Jax everything that had happened, from Canmore’s gruesome death to the Justiciar of Scotia coming to demand de Bourne’s allegiance. The key of Jax’s focus, and everyone else’s, seemed to be Berwick.

  That locale was the only nugget of information they had to go on for a coming invasion, the only thing of interest that had come up in their interrogation of Canmore, so Jax sent Addax and Essien to Berwick to discover what they could while Cole went to Alnwick to relay everything to the Earl of Northumberland, Yves de Vesci. Once Cole was finished at Alnwick, he was supposed to return to Pelinom, but he’d returned to The Keld instead.

  A month later, that’s where he remained.

  Cole’s presence at The Keld wasn’t entirely unnecessary, as a liaison between his father and Alastor de Bourne, since de Bourne seemed to be such a target for the Scots, but Addax and Essien knew why he’d really gone there.

  There was a pretty little blonde who had his attention.

  And Jax knew nothing about it… yet.

  In fact, it was probably best if Cole stayed away from Berwick considering he was a de Velt and they were known in these parts. Addax and Essien made the perfect spies because they blended in with the rabble that came off the cogs anchored along the river’s shoreline. Berwick was a fairly cosmopolitan port, with ships coming in from France, Spain, Lisbon, and several of the Baltic countries. There was a blend of many nationalities here, so the two brothers from the lands beyond The Levant blended in quite well.

  But it had been a long month. Mostly, they were focused on Berwick Castle and the comings and goings, but they also spent their time in the taverns and hovels, pretending to be sailors looking for a job, but also pretending to be drunk the entire time so no one would hire them and no one would take them seriously.

  Addax had even taken to letting his hair grow on his face and, a month later, had a seriously bushy beard growing, while Essien had taken to shaving his head and wearing jewelry he received from women in exchange for what he termed as “services”. Addax knew what he meant, and Essien had bedded several women who were either concubines or even wives of the Scots at Berwick Castle, so he had learned a great deal from the local women. As he’d told Addax, a woman never spoke more loudly or more freely when he was withholding a climax from them. Addax had to shake his head at his brothers rather bawdy way of doing things, but it worked.

  A month into their mission, they had more information than they could have hoped for.

  With Addax and his bushy beard and Essien with his gold earrings and jewels around his neck, they made quite a pair on the dirty, smelly streets of Berwick, but they were tolerated and completely overlooked in most cases. Scots from the castle would drift into the taverns and speak rather freely in front of them. Sometimes, they would speak freely to them after they’d had a few drinks purchased for them.

  One of the more important things they had learned while trolling in Berwick was the fact that MacHeth didn’t keep his fortress very secure. The gatehouse was always open, and any number of gates down to the river were also always open and often without a guard. There was one particular gate
down at the river’s edge they didn’t even lock any more. It remained open all the time, day and night, although if someone wandered into it and ended up at the castle, there was usually a guard at the mouth of the passage to stop them.

  MacHeth himself wasn’t at the castle all of the time. He came and he went, and although he had a wife at the castle and a few children, it was common knowledge that he also had a mistress who lived to the north in Coldingham. When he left, it was usually by himself, as he apparently didn’t see the need to travel with a contingent of men.

  However, they noticed something over the past week that had their interest. MacHeth had been present more than usual and there had been an inordinate amount of activity at the castle. Men were coming and going, but mostly coming. There was some kind of a buzz going on that neither Addax nor Essien could quite get the pulse of. Something seemed to be happening, but they didn’t know what it was.

  Given that MacDuff had ample time to return to Edinburgh after the battle at The Keld, it was quite possible that William the Lion was sending men to shore up Berwick’s defenses because he suspected the English knew that Berwick would be the entry point for the Northmen. The only flaw in that theory was the fact that the castle still had loose security and men came and went at all hours in any case. If William knew that the English were on to him, keeping the castle open didn’t make much sense.

  Unless, of course, they were expecting reinforcements from the sea.

  On exactly the one-month mark since their venture into Berwick, Addax and Essien found themselves in the tavern called Blankenship because this was the tavern frequented by so many Scotsmen. There had seemed to be a particular buzz about the castle today because a group of Scots had arrived from the north the day before, and Addax and Essien wanted to know why.

  They had a plan to put into motion.

  Essien had been watching the tavern most of the day and he knew that several Scots from the castle had visited, but he wasn’t watching them so much as he was watching the women they kept company with. Like most taverns, Blankenship had its share of local ladies. Addax had been inside the tavern, pretending to be drunk, also watching to see which men found company with which women. That would be key when Essien joined him, because Essien would then go after the women who had spent the afternoon with MacHeth’s men.