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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He wanted information.

  At dusk, Essien entered the establishment, grabbing the first woman he came to and laughing seductively. The serving wench had seen him in the place many times, and he was a favorite, so she laughed right along with him and give him a big kiss. Essien asked her to bring him some ale as he left her and made his way across the crowded common room until he came to his brother, sitting at a leaning table with his back against the wall.

  There was a half-filled cup of ale in his hand.

  “Greetings, my drunken friend,” he said, slapping Addax on the shoulder so hard that drink splashed out of the cup. “The night is young and so are the women. It will be a good evening!”

  He was being boisterous and loud, as he usually was, but the regulars at Blankenship were used to him. In fact, he was so obnoxious sometimes that they tended to shut him out, which was exactly what he wanted. He plopped down next to Addax, who was using his fingers to wipe up the spilled ale and then lick them. He portrayed the perfect drunk, unwilling to lose even a drop.

  “No one else has a chance with you on the prowl, you alley cat,” he said. “The evening will be good for you, I think, but not me.”

  He put the cup to his lips as Essien leaned back against the wall. “What do you have for me?” he muttered, his gaze on the room.

  Addax still had the cup to his lips. “Celandine,” he whispered. “MacHeth’s man has just left her.”

  Essien’s attention went to the wench named Celandine who was over near the kitchens. She was busty, dark-haired, and pretty. Essien had spent time with her before and it was never wasted because she chattered like a magpie. He kept his eyes on her as he spoke to Addax.

  “We have been here for a solid month,” he mumbled. “We’ve learned what we could, we’ve made nuisances of ourselves to every tavern in town, and everyone thinks we are drunken fools. I will glean what I can from Celandine, but regardless of what she tells me, we must return to Pelinom tomorrow. We have enough to tell de Velt.”

  “We have everything except when the longships are coming,” Addax said, his lips still on the rim of his cup. “That is what we need, Es. We estimated a summer arrival, but summer is nearly upon us. De Velt must have time to rouse armies and move them to Berwick.”

  Essien’s nostrils flared. “We are men of many talents, but I am tired of pretending to be a drunkard with a flair for jewels,” he said. “I have more jewels than I know what to do with. Who am I going to give them to, anyway?”

  Addax sighed heavily. “That is the least of our worries.”

  “Untrue,” Essien countered. “This entire month has been beneath us. I do not want to do this any longer.”

  “You will do as you are told.”

  Essien looked at him. “We are knights, not fools,” he said. “I want to be at the tournament in Morpeth where I belong.”

  Essien often showed distain for things he felt were beneath him, as a man of royal blood. Addax had been dealing with that since Essien had been a child, and in moments like this, pretending to be men they were not so they could glean information against the coming invasion was when Essien strained against orders. It was true that he was excellent at what he did, and he made a splendid spy, but there were times he had resented the position he found himself in.

  Like a wild stallion, sometimes Essien had to be reined in.

  It was the powerful nature in him.

  Addax understood because he had much that same nature, but he had more discipline than Essien did. He drained the last of the watered ale in his cup.

  “Go to Celandine,” he said. “Get what you can from her, if anything, and we shall depart for Pelinom on the morrow.”

  “Swear it?”

  “Follow your orders, Es. Do as you are told.”

  Essien grunted unhappily but when Celandine appeared again, carrying drink, he smiled brightly and got up from the table, heading in her direction. As Addax watched, Essien gave her his very best seductive expression, took the tray from her, and sat it on the nearest table. Then he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her off towards the rear of the tavern, which had a yard that contained a small livery. That was Essien’s destination.

  Literally, a roll in the hay.

  Addax waited for him.

  And waited.

  The tavern filled up as the night deepened. A cog from Copenhagen had moored along the dark river shore and the tavern was overrun with big, blond sailors who were loud and happy. Addax pretended to be mostly passed out, awakening only to pretend to drink more ale when what he was really doing was spitting it out in the corner. Still, he had managed to imbibe enough that he was fairly drunk and as he sat with his chair tipped against the wall, his head back as he struggled not to fall asleep, Essien reappeared from the rear of the tavern.

  The expression on Essien’s face had Addax up and moving.

  The Princes of Kitara didn’t wait until morning to depart.

  By the light of a full moon, they headed back to Pelinom.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Edinburgh

  One week later

  “Damn the man,” William hissed. “And he started a battle because of it?”

  MacDuff stood before William as the man warmed himself in front of a hearth that was taller than he was. The biggest hearth in Scotland, he liked to say. It warmed his old bones and brought him comfort in a world where there was little to be found.

  At the moment, comfort had eluded him once again.

  The comfort of an English ally.

  “Aye, yer grace,” MacDuff said. He had a big gash on his neck and a bandaged arm, evidence of the nasty battle he’d been a part of. It all played into his role as a victim to Alastor de Bourne’s rage, which was his intention. He didn’t want his king to know that he had actually failed. “I was polite. I tried tae negotiate with the man. ’Tis no’ the first time I’ve dealt with a warlord and I know how tae handle such a man, but de Bourne is without reason. He sent his army out tae attack us. I lost many men.”

  William sighed heavily and came away from the fire, rubbing his hands together because his joints pained him. He eyed his young justiciar, hearing defeat in the man’s voice. He certainly looked beaten and so did his men. There were several who had accompanied him to meet with the king and every one of them looked as if he’d been on the wrong side of a nasty row.

  “Then the fact that he dinna reply tae Canmore’s missives meant he dinna want tae be part of it,” he said. “His silence was his answer. And no sign of Canmore on yer travels? Ye heard nothing?”

  MacDuff shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “We can only assume that Canmore is still with de Velt.”

  William simply nodded, pondering a situation that had taken a bad turn. Not that he wasn’t prepared for it, because he always prepared himself for the worst. That was how he had been able to rule for so long. Expect the worst, hope for this best.

  In this case, the worst had happened.

  “Then we must move forward without Alastor de Bourne,” he said, looking to MacDuff and the other men in the hall. “Alpin Canmore is a prisoner of Ajax de Velt and we must assume he’s told him everything he knows. That means the English are going tae be casting their eyes on Berwick and we canna allow them tae control the town or the river. If they do, our allies from the north will have nowhere tae go when they arrive.”

  “They can go tae Newcastle,” MacDuff said. “They can go tae Humberside. There are other rivers.”

  William held up a finger. “True,” he said. “But there are no other rivers that are the border between England and Scotland. If they go tae another river further tae the south, the chances of our armies uniting wouldna be good. And it is imperative that we unite if this is tae succeed.”

  He had a point. Every man in the hall knew it. William turned back to the hearth, wringing his hands, considering his options when the truth was that he already knew what he was going to do.

  He had already planned it in his mind
a hundred times over.

  “We go tae Berwick,” he said quietly. “Whatever army we have now will go tae Berwick. We’ll send word tae the allies who’ve no’ yet arrived in Edinburgh tae hold until they receive word from me. We’ll keep Berwick free, and the River Tweed free, and once the longships head down the river, we can bring the rest of the armies south. We’ll converge in Kelso and head south, through the Kielder Pass. It would have been better for de Bourne had he allied himself with us, but no matter. We’ll take the pass and his castle. From there, we’ll go east and take Alnwick, seat of the Earl of Northumberland. Once we have Alnwick, we’ll launch north again tae Bamburgh. If we can hold those four castles – Bamburgh, Berwick, The Keld, and Alnwick, we can anchor intae Northumberland and the English will never get us out.”

  He spoke with great passion, a gift he had, something that had rallied men to his side for forty years. This moment was no different. Alexander MacDuff may have entered the hall defeated, but William made him feel as if it was only a setback.

  “We’re with ye, yer grace,” MacDuff said. “Give the word and we’ll head tae Berwick.”

  William looked at him. “The word is given,” he said. “Rally the army. We depart for Berwick in two days. We must get there before the English do.”

  MacDuff nodded firmly as several of William’s military advisors headed out of the hall to carry out his command. There were three thousand men in and around Edinburgh, all of them waiting for their king to give the command that would send them south, into England, to reclaim what rightfully belonged to The Rough.

  Now, the time had come.

  The Scots were on the move.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Castle Keld

  “Excellent, my lady,” Cole said with approval. “You have an excellent aim on the target.”

  Corisande grinned.

  Beneath sunny skies and mild breezes on a fine spring day, she was having another lesson in archery along with Gratiana and Gaia. Somehow, Gaia got it into her head that they all needed to know how to shoot arrows, known as bolts, given the attack from the Scots the previous month, and Cole volunteered to teach them.

  But it wasn’t just Cole. Ares, Atlas, and Anteaus were also in attendance, each one helping the woman in their own way, but it was so overwhelming that Gaia had been in tears early in the lessons. They all wanted to help and show the women how much of an expert they were, but Atlas and Ares ganged up on Gaia and she dissolved in tears because of it.

  Then came Cole.

  He was surprisingly patient with the ladies, kind and gentle, and they loved him for it. Now, it was Cole teaching Gaia and Corisande, while the three de Bourne brothers helped Gratiana, who was less fragile than Gaia was when it came to her confidence. Moreover, she had her eye on Anteaus, so she liked his attention.

  On this lovely day, Cole was standing over Corisande’s left shoulder, peering over her head, as she fired off arrows into the targets the men had set up in the stable yard. He was watching her aim, that was true, but he was standing closer than he should have in the hopes that he might feel her body heat near his.

  He just wanted to be close to her.

  “Do you really think so?” Corisande asked, turning to look at him as a pair of soldiers removed the bolts from the targets and rushed back to the women with them.

  Cole nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “You have the de Bourne gift of accuracy. I would not be surprised if you were more skilled than your brothers.”

  Ares heard him. He and Cole had become friends over the past month, men who had always known of one another but who had never had the chance to get to know each other. Cole’s month at The Keld had seen that situation between them change and, in fact, they liked each other very much. They thought alike and had much the same work ethic. Therefore, Ares made a face at Cole, one of distinct displeasure, when he heard the comment.

  “There is no possibility she has become as skilled as I am with you as her teacher,” he said flatly.

  Cole cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  “It is.”

  “Shall I prove just how much more skilled I am than you?”

  Ares was always up for a challenge. That’s what Cole liked about him, something he found utterly amusing. Any challenge and Ares was pawing the ground to accept it, ready to charge like a bull. He disarmed Gaia as Cole took the bow that Corisande had been holding and when the soldiers brought the bolts back, Cole and Ares loaded them.

  “My lady, give the word and we shall fire,” Cole said to Corisande.

  “But what is the prize for the winner?” Gaia asked, clapping her hands excitedly. “The winner should have a prize! A jewel? A coin? A kiss from the lady of his choice?”

  Cole heard the hope in her voice and he knew she meant him. In fact, young Gaia had been making a nuisance of herself with him for the past couple of weeks, much to Corisande’s distress. While she and Cole drew closer, Gaia set her sights on the enormous de Velt knight and it was all Corisande could do to keep from throttling her sister.

  But still, Gaia persisted.

  The young woman couldn’t take the hint.

  “A word of congratulations should be sufficient,” Cole said steadily. “Lady Corisande, if you will.”

  Corisande was standing just a couple of feet away from him and she complied. When she cried “mark”, Cole and Ares let the bolts fly straight to the targets. Gaia and Anteaus were running for the targets before Cole had even lowered his bow, and with Corisande at his side, he walked over to where Atlas and Anteaus were examining who came closest to the center of the target.

  The targets were drawn with charcoal onto a piece of canvas with a tight bale of hay behind it. Even the soldiers were hovering over the targets, looking to see who had fired with the most accuracy.

  “You both hit the center of the target,” Atlas said. “But I do believe Cole is closer to the center of the center than Ares is.”

  Ares frowned deeply and yanked his brother out of the way to get a closer look. Even he could see that Cole’s bolt was directly in the center of the center, but he was unable to admit it.

  “I had something in my eye,” he said. “I could not see the target clearly.”

  Cole fought off a grin. “Would you like to do it again?”

  “Nay,” Ares said, turning away. “You would only cheat and have someone move the target at the very last second.”

  “I do not need to cheat to best you, de Bourne,” Cole said. “In fact, your sister could best you. Why not challenge her?”

  Corisande grinned at Ares, who brushed her off. “She cheats, too.”

  Corisande started laughing. “So we all cheat, Ares? Or is it possible that you could lose?”

  Ares refused to indulge in any conversation about the possibility of him not being the absolute most skilled man among them as Gaia grabbed him by the hand and tugged on him.

  “Please do it again against Cole,” she begged. “I want to see you compete again!”

  Ares looked at his youngest sister. “You vixen, you do not want to see me at all,” he said, inferring she only wanted to see Cole perform again. “Go away from me, now. You give me a rash.”

  Gaia giggled but she didn’t let go of him as everyone else laughed at his comment. She was irritating enough to indeed give someone a rash. They were all heading back to their starting marks when a soldier approached Anteaus and muttered in his ear.

  Anteaus’ smile faded.

  “What is it?” Atlas asked.

  Anteaus thanked the soldier and as the man ran off towards the gatehouse, Anteaus turned to the group.

  “Our scouts have seen an enormous army pass through Hexham,” he said. “They are heading north along the road that will eventually lead them to us.”

  The frivolity of the past several minutes was doused in one swift statement.

  “An army from the south?” Ares said, baffled. “It would not be the Scots.”

  “Mayhap the Northmen?” Atlas sai
d. “Mayhap Berwick wasn’t the point of entry at all. Mayhap it was further south and now they are moving north, into Northumberland.”

  “What about your scouts to the north?” Cole asked. “Have they reported anything?”

  Anteaus shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “At least, nothing today, but I do not think it is the Northmen. The scouts said they were flying banners.”

  That brought curiosity. “What banners?” Cole asked. “What were the colors and the emblem?”

  “Yellow and blue,” Anteaus said. “The emblem was a lion’s head, but I do not recognize it.”

  A smile began to spread across Cole’s lips. “I do,” he said. “That is de Lohr. The Earl of Hereford and Worcester.”

  That brought surprise. “Are you certain?” Ares asked.

  Cole nodded. “I know it is not as recognizable in the north as some, but in the midlands and south, it is one of the most recognizable standards in all of England. My father is allied with de Lohr and we have fought with him several times. In fact, my youngest brother even serves de Lohr. So, aye… I am sure.”

  Realization that one of England’s most powerful warlords was heading their way was sinking in. “But what about The Marshal?” Ares said. “Surely he is coming, too?”

  Cole nodded. “I am certain he is,” he said. “De Lohr is simply the first. There are several more, I am certain. My father and The Marshal have been in contact about William the Lion’s plans. I told your father on the day I arrived with Canmore that it was The Marshal who ordered my father to raze Fountainhall to send a message to William. I also think it was a stalling tactic so The Marshal could move armies north while William was still stunned from my father’s attack. Don’t you see? The Marshal has sent de Lohr. He’s come to help us defend the north and the first thing we shall do is move them straight into Berwick.”