Mercenaries and Maidens: A Medieval Romance bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Why are you dressed like that?” he demanded.

  Her chin shot up proudly. “As the eldest child of Hugh de Carron, I command the defenses of Torridon.”

  The king chewed his lip thoughtfully. “I seem to remember hearing rumors to that effect,” he said. “But I did not believe them because they were so utterly ridiculous. Yet, I see they must be true.”

  His cruelty cut at her, but she didn’t flinch. “My men are loyal to the core, my lord,” she said evenly. “They follow me without question.”

  “As you follow me,” the king said flatly. “And I order you to retire to the fortress where you belong. Let soldiers with ballocks decide a course of action.”

  He could not have done more damage if he had struck her. Josephine’s first reaction was to verbally destroy him, but she bit her tongue. He was her king but she was beginning to hate him more by the minute. She felt humiliated and hurt, and it took all the willpower she could muster to turn and walk away.

  What she didn’t see was Sully putting a restraining arm on Andrew as the king made his crude remark. And she didn’t see his eyes follow her as she walked away. Andrew’s heart ached for the abuse her pride had taken, but she was handling it much better than he was.

  Andrew then focused his attention back on the idiot Scot king. The man was a fool and he despised the foolish monarch. But Andrew was in his country and the man was the ruler, so he was bound to obey him.

  Oblivious to the hatred he was creating in the men around him, the king turned to Sully. “Send out a greeting party to escort Colin Dalmellington to Torridon,” he said. “It would be a show of good faith, Montgomery. You will do this.”

  Sully’s jaw fell open. “A greeting party?” he stammered. “But, sire, that man out there is our enemy! Surely you cannot…”

  The king shut him up with a scalding look. “Surely you can obey a simple order from your king,” he shot back. “Now, select some men and go. Fly my colors so he will know who solicits him.”

  Sully hesitated a split second before placing Thane in charge of a “greeting party”. It was better to send the mercenaries than any of Torridon’s men.

  The hate ran too deep and the “greeting party” might turn into a “murder party”.

  *

  Josephine didn’t go back to the keep as she was told. She was up on the battlements of the outer wall, watching as the small group of soldiers charged off towards the oncoming army. She guessed it to be a scout party of some sort, most likely with a message from the king.

  The man’s words had hurt her, but she shook them off. She couldn’t linger on a fool’s words, but she also made sure to stay out of his sight. As the entire castle watched the men ride off towards the incoming army, Josephine saw Sully turn to Andrew and say something to him. Andrew leaned in slightly, listening, then turned swiftly and lost himself in his men. Sully looked up and saw Josephine on the wall. She saw him smile, perhaps pleased that she hadn’t gone into the keep, after all. The woman wasn’t about to let the king order her down in her own castle.

  Sully motioned to her and she knew the signal well: mobilize. She turned and charged down the catwalk, yelling orders to the archers and the men-at-arms stationed along the wall. Her damaged pride was recuperating swiftly now that she was commanding once again. She needed to feel useful in her own fortress.

  Far below her, she could see the mercenary army moving into ranks. The huge main gates were being shut, with the new timber creaking and popping as it moved into place. She could smell the tension in the air as the men found their places as they began to wait expectantly. She stood with them, watching the distance.

  It was difficult to see what was transpiring nearly a quarter-mile away as the sun rose. She could see that the oncoming army had halted temporarily, and she could see the Torridon party speaking with the Dalmellington party. Time stood still as everyone waited with bated breath. Secretly, she found herself wishing that Colin would spit on the king’s flag and charge forward. She was exceptionally confident with Andrew’s army forming a tangible barrier between Dalmellington’s army and Torridon.

  But another part of her, the female emotional part, hoped that the army would turn and leave. She didn’t want to risk further damaging Torridon and she suddenly hated the idea of Andrew on the front lines. She knew all too well she was paying him for such a service, but she was now reluctant to have him in harm’s way.

  Crazy woman, she scolded herself. He’s survived this long doing far worse than she could ever imagine. Fighting Colin would probably be nothing short of practice to him.

  But then, she saw movement on the horizon. The party that had ridden out to the Dalmellington army had now returned with several Dalmellington soldiers. As they drew closer, she could see helmless Colin Dalmellington, with his brownish hair askew. He bounced atop his black destrier as the group galloped across the moor towards the rise of Torridon.

  Hatred flooded her at the sight of his ugly, bearded face. She was so angry that her hands began to shake, so she left her place on the wall. The man was coming to Torridon’s gates? Over her dead body. Rushing down the ladders, she raced across the outer bailey and screamed at the guards to unbolt the gates. She was in a rage, the likes of which the men-at-arms had never seen before, and they knew why.

  The Dalmellington was on their doorstep and the king refused to take it seriously.

  Josephine slipped out as the gate cracked open, just in time to see the riding party reach the road and canter the remaining way. The king, Sully, and Andrew stood in an expectant group as the riders approached, having no idea a storm by the name of Josephine was blowing in behind them.

  There was about to be a terrible tempest.

  No one saw anything until it was too late. Suddenly, Josephine was in the middle of the road, standing between the king and the riders, and blocking their way.

  “Come no further, Dalmellington bastard!” she bellowed, “or this dirt will run red with the blood from your punctured heart!”

  The horses stopped, dancing and snorting. Colin rode next to Thane and peered down his nose at Josephine, his hatred of her just as evident as hers was of him. His plain features twisted into a scowl.

  “I intend to go no farther, little man,” he snarled. “Torridon stench is not something I wish to have on me, lest my men mistake me for you and kill me before I have a chance to bathe. I am only here by request of the king.”

  “Then hear him and get off of my land,” she growled, fingering her sword.

  Colin dismounted. Andrew had been as tight as a string throughout the venom-laced exchange but, now, he was ready to spring if the man so much as made a move towards Josephine. This time, Sully made no move to restrain him and, in fact, looked more tense than Andrew did.

  Josephine stood stock still as Colin came to within a few feet of her, her eyes spitting hatred at him. Colin removed a gauntlet to scratch his head, taking a moment to look her over.

  “I had heard rumor that you were a great beauty,” he said, calmer now. “Your face is pretty enough, but you look like a man dressed in mail. No way to attract a husband, Josephine.”

  She sneered at him. “Do give me advice, Colin,” she said. “This coming from a forty-year-old man who has yet to be married. I would imagine it is hard to attract decent women when your balls outweigh your brain.”

  “What do you know of balls?” he threw back at her. “Unless you have been doing more than just fighting with the men, Josephine. Shame, shame.”

  His men roared with laughter while Torridon’s men seemed to get redder in the face with each passing second. Andrew was actually sweating, he was so angry. But it was Sully who decided that Colin was not free to insult his sister-in-law thusly. He opened his mouth to retort, but Josephine beat him to it.

  “I hear the same is true of you as well, Colin,” she said coolly.

  Huge grins spread across the faces of Andrew and Sully, and it was now their turn to laugh. Colin, however, flared. His
mouth worked as his eyes widened in outrage.

  “You little bitch!” he hissed.

  As Josephine smiled triumphantly, King Alexander stepped forward, with his hands raised.

  “This is what I like to see,” he said. “Good-natured camaraderie. Colin, you did not really come here to fight Josephine again, did you?”

  Colin bowed deeply. “’Tis a great honor to see you, my lord,” he said, then eyed Josephine. “And as you well know, Torridon should rightfully be under Dalmellington control. As Hugh de Carron’s cousin, I…”

  The king cut him off, with flaring nostrils. Apparently, he wasn’t fond of Colin, either. “I am a closer relative than you are, Colin,” he said. “If Torridon is to be under anyone’s control, it should be mine. When you came to Edinburgh to petition me for control of Torridon, I thought I told you then that Torridon rightfully belonged to Josephine de Carron. I told you to leave her alone.”

  Colin’s face was stony. “And I believe, my lord, that I pointed out that Torridon required a male to hold down such a massive structure and to control the villeins.

  The king’s eyes narrowed. “So you took it upon yourself to prove your point,” he said icily. “And disprove mine?”

  “Not at all, my lord,” Colin said vehemently. “It is simply that…”

  “Shut your mouth, Colin,” the king said, cutting him off. “I have had enough of your lies. Now, be clear on my order – leave Torridon and the House of de Carron alone. This is not your castle. Leave it alone or face my wrath. Do you understand?”

  Colin stared blankly at him for a moment. It was clear that he didn’t like to be given such an order and his cheeks reddened in embarrassment, in anger. “Of course, my lord,” he said after a moment. “As you wish.”

  Josephine watched him and knew instinctively that he was lying. Once the king was gone, he would be back to his old tricks. But she couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to jab at him.

  “Colin, if you are simply concerned because Torridon lacks a male, then take heart,” she said. “I am no longer Mistress of Torridon. Sully Montgomery has married my sister and I gave them the castle as a wedding gift.”

  “Montgomery?” Colin said, outraged, as he looked at Sully. “That sow’s belly? He is incapable of commanding a fortress such as this.”

  Sully smiled at him, but it was a warning gesture. “Better a sow’s belly than its arse,” he said. “And I am glad to hear that you will no longer be wreaking havoc on my fortress, Colin. Mayhap, we shall even be allies again, someday.”

  Colin was being goaded far beyond his reason. “I destroyed all clan ties long ago.”

  “That is your misfortune,” Sully replied. “But the House of de Carron is strong without you. You would do well to keep your distance.”

  Colin’s eyes narrowed. “You forget I was once a part of this house,” he said. “The de Carrons were the most powerful members and look at you now – hiring a mercenary army to keep my soldiers at bay. And as for the rest of those houses who are part of the clan, I consider them weak children. They run from their own shadow.”

  “I am sure that my father will be pleased to know yer opinion,” Donald Muir spoke from behind Sully and Andrew He’d been standing back in the shadows, watching the happenings so he could report back to his father. “As I am sure the Kennedy, Dunbar, and Fergusson will be equally as glad.”

  The king looked at Colin. “You provoke a mighty wrath by insulting those clans,” he said. “The Kennedy alone number in the thousands.”

  “Then why have they not assisted the mighty de Carrons?” Colin demanded mockingly.

  “Because I have not asked,” Josephine said frankly. “And because they did not consider you an enemy, rather preferring to remain neutral.”

  “But that will change,” Donald informed him. “They will not be amused with yer words because I will surely tell them.”

  Colin glared at everyone menacingly. He had expected Josephine to beg him for a truce but, instead, he was insulted and threatened. And the king, that horse’s arse, was not supporting him in the least. After all, Colin had sworn loyalty to the throne – should he not expect the same?

  As he looked at the gloating Torridon knights and the king’s smirking face, Colin Dalmellington soared over the edge into complete madness. He decided then that he no longer supported the king, and that he no longer wanted Torridon for himself. He wanted it, and the de Carrons, obliterated.

  Without another word, he mounted his black destrier and savagely yanked the horse’s reins. The king, noting the disrespect, stepped forward.

  “You have not been dismissed,” he pointed out.

  Colin looked down at the man he once served. “I did not ask to be,” he said, then looked over at Josephine. “Lady Josephine, I shall now destroy your castle and take you as my whore. Prepare yourself for your destiny.”

  Andrew’s tall, muscular form separated itself from the group. He looked at Colin with an expression akin to pity.

  “Then you prepare to meet yours,” he said in a voice that made Josephine’s hair stand on end.

  “Who in the hell are you?” Colin snapped.

  “My name is Andrew d’Vant,” he said. “But I am sure that it will mean nothing to you. Mayhap The Red Fury will.”

  Colin’s surprise registered instantly on his face. “The Red Fury?” he repeated. “So it is you. My spies had told me that you had arrived, but I did not believe them.”

  Andrew’s jaw muscles were flexing as he fought for self-control. “Then that is your misfortune,” he said. “It will be a pleasure killing you, Dalmellington. No one speaks to Lady Josephine in the manner you have used.”

  Colin wasn’t too bright; he didn’t know when to stop. “Fierce loyalty from the hired dog,” he quipped. “Mayhap Lady Josephine is paying you with something other than money?”

  Josephine expected Andrew to explode. Instead, he dropped his head and laughed softly. “I will kill you for nothing, Dalmellington.”

  Colin brutally reined his horse and galloped furiously in the opposite direction. The king watched him go indifferently.

  “Idiot,” he remarked.

  As the king and his men contemplated the warlord that was Colin Dalmellington, Andrew spun around, looking to Sully.

  “And so it comes,” he said quietly. Then, he turned to look at his men, back behind him and Sully and the king. “Thane! Divide the force and put half into the outer bailey. Put your archers with Torridon archers and line the entire perimeter of the wall.”

  Thane was in motion, as was Sully. They knew what needed to be done and there was little time to accomplish it. Only Josephine remained stationary as she watched Andrew. He went to her.

  “I want you to go inside,” he requested gently.

  “Nay,” she said. “I am not questioning your command, my lord, but I have fought in every Dalmellington battle since my father died. It is my right and I will not stop now.”

  She wasn’t being belligerent, merely honest. He respected that. Furthermore, he knew that arguing with her would not solve anything. She was determined.

  “Very well,” he said with great reluctance. “But you stay with either Sully or me. Understood?”

  Josephine nodded, pleased he hadn’t fought her on it. With a wink, Andrew took her hand and led her back into the fortress, never imagining that he’d be fighting a battle side by side with the woman he loved.

  It was a strange situation, indeed.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Alexander was not going to stay at a fortress under siege.

  He entered the castle bellowing orders faster than his stewards could move. All of the wagons would have to be left behind for now. He and his entourage would have to travel quickly and on horseback, and leave within the next few minutes if they were to make it out in time.

  But there was one particular man in his entourage that he wanted a moment of privacy with. His bodyguard, Ridge de Reyne, was at his side. A mountain of a man with
black hair and dark eyes, Ridge was the king’s shadow. He was seen but rarely heard, a defender of the most elite class.

  Ridge de Reyne was a man to be feared.

  He was also English, gifted to Alexander by none other than the king of England, Henry, as part of a peace overture between the two countries. Alexander had been suspicious of Ridge at first, but the man had proven himself time and time again. He could not do without him.

  “Lady Josephine will depart with us,” the king informed Ridge. “Find her and bring her.”

  Ridge looked doubtful. “She is with the soldiers in the outer bailey, my lord, and is most likely attached to d’Vant.”

  The king stopped abruptly. “I do not care if they are joined at the hip,” he said through his teeth. “Get her any way you can. Knock her unconscious if you must. She leaves with us and we leave now.”

  Ridge had little choice, but he seriously wondered how he was going to get hold of the woman. He’d been watching her since his arrival and he knew that d’Vant was quite protective of her, as was Sully Montgomery. That never mattered until now. Now, Ridge found himself having to concoct a plan to abduct a woman who was never alone. That wasn’t part of his usual duties as defender of the king but, evidently, he’d just been given the task.

  With nothing more to say, he saluted the king and jogged off, his mail and sword jingling gaily as he moved. He had a woman to capture and very little time to do it in, and hopefully without bloodshed. His bloodshed.

  Ridge was a man who followed orders no matter what they were. It was what he’d always done and how he’d become such a valued possession of a king. He was a man who never questioned an order but, in this instance, he was having to take action on something that was out of his scope of work. At least, that was the way he looked at it.

  The king’s bodyguard was about to become the king’s kidnapper.

  *

  Inside the keep, Justine saw the king with his stewards and noticed his haste. A passing servant told her that a Dalmellington onslaught was imminent and then the king’s haste seemed to make some sense. Even as the king was preparing and the rest of Torridon was preparing, Justine had some preparations of her own to make.