“Always with de Vesci?”
“Aye, my lady.”
She turned and walked toward him, scrutinizing him. He felt the intensity of her stare, golden brown eyes that had him in their grip. He could see the power that had held out against de Velt. There was something about the woman that radiated strength.
“What do you know about Jax de Velt?” she finally asked.
Denedor cleared his throat softly. “I have not fought him in battle, my lady.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“Why do you wish to know?”
“As a knight, I want to know what you think of him.”
Denedor examined her as she was doing the same to him. Her gaze was very bold, as if she was attempting to figure him out. After a moment, he spoke. “I respect his abilities a great deal. For a man with no titles or property, he has amassed an amazing amount of wealth through conquest.”
“Do you fear him?”
“Fear him? No,” Denedor shook his head. “But he does concern me.”
“Why?”
He cocked a blond eyebrow. “Because the man is merciless. He fights at a level of brutality that is purely his own.”
She was still lingering on him as she moved back to the bag she had thrown at Lavaine. She spoke as she picked it up. “Do you believe that my father was right to bring me to Alnwick under false pretenses?”
“This I cannot know, my lady.”
She held on to her bag as she turned to him. “When Jax finds out I am at Alnwick, he will lay siege to it.”
Denedor nodded slowly. “That is a distinct possibility, my lady.”
“What will you do?”
“Protect the castle.”
“He has siege engines and a thousand men that will overrun this place. And I have seen what he does to enemy knights.”
“As have I, my lady.”
“And you are not afraid?”
“I have been a knight for many years, my lady. Fear is a waste of energy.”
She clutched the bag, her eyes intense. “Help me to escape and I promise he will spare your life when he destroys Alnwick.”
Denedor wasn’t surprised at the offer; in fact, he had expected it. “Alas,” he said. “I cannot, my lady. I serve de Vesci, and de Vesci requests that you remain.”
She could have gone one of two ways at that moment; become angry or accept his answer. Surprisingly, she accepted his answer and turned away, going to lay her satchel on a table near the wardrobe. Her movements were weary, pensive. Denedor couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a trick to throw him off his guard.
“Are you married, Denedor?” she asked quietly.
“I was, my lady.”
“What happened?”
“She died in childbirth seven years ago.”
Kellington looked at him. “I am sorry for you. Did you love her?”
The question caught him off-guard. “M… my lady?”
“I asked if you loved her.”
Denedor blinked, unsure what she was driving at, unwilling to answer her. “You will forgive me for keeping that memory to myself, my lady.”
Kellington knew it was a presumptuous question but she had, in fact, been driving at a point.
“I simply wanted to know if you loved your wife because if you did, then you would understand my desire to be with Jax,” she said softly. “I am not insane or foolish. I know Jax de Velt has a horrible reputation. I know everyone fears and hates him. But I am telling you that the man’s reputation does him a great disservice. He can be quite kind and understanding. And he is very humorous at times.” She suddenly shook her head and turned away. “Perhaps I am the only one that sees that side to him. Perhaps I really am insane. But my desire to be with him is not a death wish. It is the truth.”
Denedor watched her as she began to pull garments out of her bag, shaking them to loosen the wrinkles. He didn’t sense that she was being manipulative with him. In fact, he sensed she was being extraordinarily honest. He could appreciate that quality.
“Aye, I did,” he said softly.
She turned and looked at him. “I beg your pardon?”
He took a few steps towards her, crossing his thick arms. “You asked me if I loved my wife. I did.”
She was pleased to hear that. Then perhaps he could understand her point. “People like us are a rarity, Denedor. We have both experienced feelings that few people do.”
Denedor smiled faintly; to do anything more would be to lower his guard more than he already had and he did not want to do that. He backed up until he was standing by the door once again.
“Do you require anything to make your stay more comfortable, my lady?” he asked.
She nodded. “I would like a bath. And some food would be nice; I’ve not eaten since yesterday.”
He nodded firmly. “It shall be done, my lady.”
She was focused on her clothes, more interested in the garments than in him. Denedor’s gaze lingered on her a moment as he opened the door; she was trying to smooth the wrinkles out of a shift. He quit the room and closed the door softly behind him, throwing the bolt on the outside and locking her in. He wondered if there would come a point when he did not have to do that anymore. And he was coming to wonder if the lovely lady would soon forget about Jax de Velt.
Out of sight, out of mind.
*
It was sunrise over White Crag. The day was bright and sunny, and all manner of creature was out and about. Birds soared overhead in the morning drafts and little animals scurried back into their burrows when the bird’s shadow would slide across the ground. It had dawned a brilliant May morning.
It would have been perfect had the bailey of White Crag not been littered with a forest of corpses. The smell was beginning to overwhelm everything now, the thick scent of rotting human flesh sinking deep into the mud, the walls, the very air they breathed. It ruined the beauty of the dawning day.
But not everyone noticed; Jax walked through the scarecrow corpses as easily as walking through trees as he made his way to the wall walk. Amadeo was in the keep with Michael having the morning meal. The two of them had been up most of the night and were planning on some sleep now that Jax was up and about.
In the light of early morning, riders were sighted in the distance just as Jax reached the wall. Abruptly, he descended from the parapets and headed towards the front gates; he wasn’t worried about the incoming riders. They were more than likely the scouts they had sent forth towards Caerleon Castle the night before. For certain, only a fool would approach a castle that smelled like the dead.
The portcullis of White Crag had been breached and bent so that it could not be lowered and used against Jax’s army again. Jax wouldn’t fix it until he was positive that all aspects of White Crag were secured. He stood underneath the tweaked iron grate with a dozen soldiers, watching the riders draw closer, realizing that he recognized the chargers. Surprised, and slightly concerned, he left the soldiers at the gate and walked out to meet them.
He recognized Atreus’ smile as the man rode upon him; Tor was the second rider and also let loose a smile upon his liege. Jax lifted his hands questioningly.
“I thought I was rid of you both,” it was as close to a cordial greeting as he could come. “Don’t tell me that my garrisons in Wales have fallen. You haven’t even had time to return there; you only left Pelinom a few days ago.”
Atreus dismounted, shaking Jax’s hand heartily. His blue eyes scanned the walls and he made sure to stay close to his charger for protection. Tor’s brown eyes were riveted to the wall as well. Both men seemed nervous, something Jax picked up on immediately.
“What’s the matter with you two?” he demanded quietly. “Why are you here?”
Atreus’ gaze left the wall for a brief moment. “Where is Amadeo?”
“Inside the keep breaking his fast,” Jax replied. “What in the hell is going on? Why do you ask to know where Amadeo is?”
Atreus would not delay; if he did
and Amadeo saw him, the man might suspect that they were on to his plan as they had been those four years ago when Lady Mira disappeared. But they could never prove anything, and if Amadeo suspected them, their lives were in great jeopardy; Amadeo was a master with the longbow. That is why he and Tor kept their eyes on the wall; it would only take a split second for an arrow to come flying at them and they would have virtually no time to react.
“There is a situation, my old friend,” Atreus said quietly. “It has nothing to do with Wales and everything to do with your Lady Kellington.”
Jax blanched; both Atreus and Tor saw it. “What?” Jax hissed, a show of unusual emotion on his face. “What’s happened to Kellington?”
Atreus motioned to Tor, who dismounted from his charger and put his horse between him and the wall. It was Atreus who continued on.
“Your Lady Kellington was taken out of Pelinom four days ago by her father under the orders of Amadeo,” he said. “Caelen is in on the plot. I do not know if Michael is, so you would do well to protect yourself against him until you know for sure.”
Jax’s dual-colored eyes widened; he couldn’t help it. “Amadeo ordered her removed?” he repeated, shocked. “How do you know this?”
“Because we were just there,” Atreus responded. “Caelen told us. In fact, Caelen was under orders to kill Lady Kellington if she did not leave the castle. Her father removed her to save her life, I would suspect.”
A strange thing happened to Jax at that moment; his face flushed an odd color of red and his jaw began to tick dangerously. That was never a good sign; it usually preceded some manner of explosion. His breathing began to come in odd, labored drags.
“Did Caelen tell you this?” he asked through clenched teeth.
Atreus nodded. “He did, my old friend. It would seem that Amadeo is intent on separating you from your lady, so much so that he threatened her life.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“But why would he do this?”
Atreus stared at him. “I believe you know.”
Jax did. God help him, he did. He clenched his jaw so hard that he nearly broke his teeth. He closed his eyes briefly, sharply, before refocusing on Atreus. “Do you know where her father took her?”
“Alnwick, I’m told.”
“And she is unharmed?”
“As far as I know. I am sure Caelen would have told me otherwise.”
Jax didn’t know what to say; he was as close to raging with insanity as he had ever been in his life. He was, frankly, afraid to say anything at all, afraid he would explode in all directions. Atreus could see the turmoil, the fury, in his lord’s two-colored eyes. He’d never been truly afraid of Jax until this moment; now, he could see the fire of the Devil raging in the oddly colored eyes and he was seriously concerned.
“Amadeo is a dangerous man with dangerous ambitions,” Atreus lowered his voice. “You have always known this. He depends on you to deliver wealth and power to him, as he is not strong enough or driven enough to do it for himself. He does not like it when anything threatens to stand in the way between you and your conquest. He depends far too much on what you are able to do for him.”
Jax’s mind was on Kellington, brutally wrenched back to thoughts of Amadeo by Atreus’ words.
“I know,” he replied hoarsely. “But the man has a strong sword and a cunning mind. I have overlooked his ruthless nature because of what he brings to my forces. He will stop at nothing to fulfill an order or complete a mission.”
“But he is manipulative and scheming” Tor put in. “Jax, you know how he was when we were in battle on the Marches. He was jealous of all of us who received garrisons. We kept waiting for him to slit one of our throats so that he could have command of one of the garrisons, but you promised him a garrison on the Scot border and that seemed to pacify him. But none of us trusted him. We never have. That is why we returned to Pelinom; we know how he is. When you announced you had intentions to marry Lady Kellington, we knew what that would mean to Amadeo no matter how he pretended otherwise.”
Jax nodded his head as if accepting and understanding all they were telling him. All he could think of was Kellington, now presumably at Alnwick, and his desire to reach her was overwhelming his senses. But he fought it; he had a more pressing matter on his hands at the moment. He looked at his generals, his loyal friends. He realized that he was very much in their debt.
“So that is why you returned to Pelinom?” his voice was oddly tight. “Because you suspected he might do something to her in my absence?”
Tor nodded; Atreus merely looked at the ground.
“You remember what happened to Mira,” Tor spoke the obvious.
Jax averted his attention, his gaze moving over the landscape. He seemed to find interest in anything other than the men standing next to him and their words. He waited so long to reply that they weren’t even sure he was still focused on the subject at hand. When he finally spoke, it was in a tone that was dull with regret.
“Mira was my father’s idea,” he said softly. “She was so young, so foolish. I do not believe I was a very good husband to her and I frankly did not care. She was a burden; spoiled, stupid, greedy. The only reason I married her was because my father arranged it. When she disappeared… I looked for her as a dutiful husband should but I suppose that I secretly hoped she had simply left me. I was well aware of the rumors regarding Amadeo and I even asked him what he knew of her disappearance. He told me that he knew nothing.”
“He was lying, Jax,” Atreus insisted with quiet firmness. “He killed the girl and disposed of her body. We never did find out what he did to her. We tried to tell you but you did not seem to care. You were too consumed with the Marches at that time.”
Jax nodded slowly, suddenly feeling a good deal of guilt in the disappearance of his wife. “I should not have been so careless with her,” he lifted his shoulders weakly. “But that thought has never honestly occurred to me until now. Now that… well, now that I understand what it is to care for someone, I do regret how I treated Mira.”
Atreus, being the older and more sensitive of the group, was astounded to hear Jax express some emotion. He didn’t know the man had it in him but he was, frankly, quite glad to hear it.
“I have known you for many years and I have never seen you act towards another human being as you have acted towards Lady Kellington,” he clapped the man on his massive soldier. “I knew the moment I saw you look at her that there was something going on, something deep. And that is why Tor and I returned; we were two days out of Pelinom when we began speaking of Mira and Amadeo. We knew what had happened then and we did not want to see the same thing happen again. Especially not to a woman you obviously care a great deal about. It would be a tragedy, for everyone involved.”
Jax looked at the two men. “Then I am fortunate you are so concerned for the both of us,” he said quietly. “If I have never told you this before, Atreus, you are a man I deeply respect. And I am grateful for your friendship.”
Atreus smiled at him, slapping him lightly on the cheek when the moment grew to warm. These men were born and bred to war, and emotion did not come easily.
“By all accounts, she seems like a lovely woman,” Atreus said for his ears only. “And she keeps you in line.”
Jax smiled, a shade embarrassed. “There is good reason for that. I am afraid of her.”
Atreus laughed loudly; Tor grinned, not having heard what was said but assuming it was humorous if both Jax and Atreus were laughing. When the smiles faded and the situation settled, it became clear a solution was needed. Jax turned to the walls of White Crag, gleaming against the awakening day. His humor faded completely and his expression hardened into one only seen in battle. Both Atreus and Tor knew that Amadeo’s life would shortly be at an end.
They followed Jax into the castle.
*
Amadeo was sitting with Michael on the dais of the great hall of White Crag, enjoying warmed over beef
, some kind of flour dumplings cooked in the beef fat, and big hunks of white bread. It was a generous meal. As a good knight always did, he was facing the door. A warrior never sat with his back to an entry or exit but was always aware of who was coming or going. But when he saw Jax enter the hall, he had no suspicion whatsoever of what was coming to past. Even when Jax did not say a word to him, he still did not have suspicion. He kept eating his dumplings. But when Jax got within a few feet of him and he heard the soft sing of a broadsword being unsheathed, a warning went off in his head and he instinctively bolted to his feet. He saw the blade coming towards him and he leapt over the bench, unsheathing his own sword in a split second. Raising the blade, he narrowly avoided having his head cut off.
The benches upended and Michael leapt from his seat, making haste to put distance between himself and the combatants. As he watched in shock, Jax went after Amadeo with the power of an avenging angel.
Though Jax was bigger and more powerful, it was hardly a one-sided battle. Amadeo was a fine swordsman and very swift. He suffered through a volley of four very powerful thrusts before he leapt back over the table to give himself a moment to breath.
“What have I done to offend you so, my lord?” he asked as calmly as he could.
Jax was incapable of answering at the moment; he kicked at the table to get at Amadeo, tipping it but not sending it over completely. In his blind fury, he leapt over it and descended on Amadeo with several swift and potent thrusts; Amadeo met the barrage as he backed away and almost ended up tripping on an upended bench. But he held his footing and managed to land a couple of good blows against Jax.
“My lord,” Amadeo said, less calmly and more urgently now. “What is it I have done?”
Jax delivered a powerful blow with his sword, picking up half of a destroyed bench in the process and tossing it at Amadeo’s head. The man saw the bench coming, barely avoiding being brained by it. Weapons and broken wood were flying everywhere.
By now, Atreus and Tor were standing in the entry to the hall, watching the mortal combat. Michael, confused and apprehensive, saw the generals and grew doubly confused. But no one took their eyes off of Jax and Amadeo as the battle intensified. It was clear that this was no joke and certainly no practice session; Jax was bent on murder.
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume 1 Page 159