Mercenaries and Maidens: A Medieval Romance bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Kellington thought on his suggestion, torn. But it did make some sense. “And Jax agreed to this?”

  “Ask his men if you do not believe me. They have already saddled horses for us.”

  Her happiness over her father’s consent won out over the mild confusion. She threw her arms around his neck once again and giggled happily.

  “Thank you, father,” she said, kissing his cheek. “You have made a good decision. I swear you will not regret it.”

  Keats already did. He was feeling sick to his stomach. “I know I will not.”

  Kellington was moving towards the chamber door. “I must go and pack. How long do you think we will be gone?”

  “Do not bother,” Keats said. “Lavaine packed for you.”

  “She did?” Kellington did not see anything strange about that. “Wonderful. But I must let the cook know I will meet her in Berwick.”

  “I have already taken care of that.”

  Kellington did eye her father, then. “You have already made all of these arrangements and I knew nothing about them?”

  “I assumed you would want to leave right away and not be bogged down with trivial things,” he said. “Besides, I am not doing anything worthwhile these days. It gave me something to do.”

  She felt a sense of sadness at that statement and questioned him no further. She also felt a strange sense of guilt.

  “Perhaps Jax will restore you to your post after we are married,” she said quietly. “I will speak with him about it. He will listen to me.”

  Keats bit his tongue as he quit the keep with his daughter on his arm. It was a lovely morning but he didn’t notice. All he was aware of was the pain in his heart and the fear gripping him. They were not clear of Pelinom yet and something could still go wrong. His sense of dread increased when de Velt’s knight suddenly came into view.

  Caelen was standing near the stables with a few saddled horses. Kellington recognized Keats’ brown charger and her small gray palfrey. There was also another palfrey and she noticed Lavaine standing next to the little beast. She squeezed her father’s hand.

  “Is Lavaine going, too?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Are you pleased?”

  Kellington nodded happily as they came upon the group. Caelen’s brown eyes were appraising, steady.

  “My lady,” he greeted evenly. “Lord de Velt has given your father permission to escort you from Pelinom.”

  “We are going shopping,” Keats said for the knight’s benefit. He wanted Lavaine to hear the excuse as well so there would be no mistakes. “A trip to Berwick will do us all wonders.”

  Caelen understood completely. “Then good journey to you.”

  Keats didn’t reply. He helped his daughter mount her palfrey as Caelen moved to assist Lavaine. Kellington didn’t seem to notice that Lavaine hadn’t said a word and that her head was down, eyes averted. She didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary, especially with Caelen confirming everything her father had told her. In fact, she was thrilled to death.

  Keats escorted the women from Pelinom and out into the green countryside beyond. When the great gates of Pelinom closed with grim finality behind them, Kellington never gave it a second thought. All she knew was that she was traveling to Berwick-Upon-Tweed to purchase her trousseau for her upcoming wedding. She thought perhaps she would buy a few things for Jax, too, as a gift. She hoped he would be pleased.

  “Father,” she called.

  Keats was several feet ahead of the ladies, riding point. “Aye?”

  “We must return in ten days. Jax said he would be back in ten days.”

  Keats did nothing more than nod. Kellington was talking so much that she never noticed when her father took the road south.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  White Crag had not been as difficult to breach as Pelinom. Even though the defenders had been somewhat prepared for the siege, as someone had informed them of the approach of de Velt’s army, Jax put the siege engines into use and the battle that commenced at sunset the day he left Pelinom was complete by sunrise. White Crag’s white stoned walls were black with soot from projectiles and the slender portcullis was in ruins.

  Jax’s men set to impaling the army just as they had with countless other armies. That was their normal routine. Jax personally impaled two of White Crag’s knights, posting the squirming, dying bodies just inside the front gate as a warning to all. Amadeo and Michael and several senior soldiers had already moved into the keep, corralling the occupants and holding them prisoner in the great hall. It was their normal practice to round up everyone in the keep and hold them until Jax arrived.

  He arrived as only de Velt could. His massive, armored presence sucked up all of the air in the room as the prisoners cowered. From behind his lowered visor, he studied the lord of White Crag, his aging wife, and his two unattractive daughters. The girls were terrified, clutching each other and weeping. When a servant woman put up too much of a fight against Michael and he drove his broadsword into her chest, it did not help matters. The daughters screamed and the old couple prayed louder. Amadeo, who had been in charge of assessing the keep and its occupants, walked up to him.

  “This is the lot of them, my lord,” he said. “This is LeRoy Crandall, Lord of White Crag, and his family. They have two knights, of which you have already seen to, sixteen house servants and seventy-eight soldiers. I am confident there is no one else.”

  Jax nodded faintly, watching the daughters’ as they wept, remembering Kellington’s words in his head. Please promise me that you will conduct yourself with fairness and mercy. He hadn’t the slightest idea where to start; he hadn’t done a very good job of showing mercy to the army of White Crag. In fact, he and his men had shown more brutality than usual. It was simply the way of things. But gazing at the family in front of him, he realized that he very much wanted to comply with Kellington’s request. Even if she wasn’t here to witness it, he greatly desired to accommodate her wishes. He could tell her with a clear conscience that he had shown fairness and mercy to the weak and helpless. He wanted to make her proud.

  “I am de Velt,” he said in his deep baritone. “White Crag Castle is now mine and you are my prisoners. If you think to plead for your lives, now would be the time.”

  The last time he had said that, it had been to Keats and Kellington, and Kellington had wanted to know why she had to plead for her life. Remembering that moment made him smile; even with death staring her in the face, she had still shown an inordinate amount of bravery. He became aware that it was at that moment his interest in her had kindled.

  But Crandall’s family cried and pleaded as he had instructed them to. The daughters were crumbling, falling prostrate before him and begging for their lives to be spared. Jax stared at the women; they were older and homely, and they were also very well dressed. Looking over at the parents, he could see that they were richly garbed as well. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

  Reaching down, he grabbed the nearest daughter by the neck. He hauled her to her feet, turning to Amadeo as he did so.

  “Take the rest of the family to the vault,” he commanded sharply.

  “What of the servants?” Amadeo wanted to know.

  Jax paused, holding the hysterical woman by the throat. “We learned a difficult lesson with Pelinom. We will need them to maintain the function of the fortress. Put them in the vault also until I decide what’s to be done with them.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Amadeo eyed the man as he let go of the woman’s neck and bent down, throwing her over his massive shoulder. “What are you intending to do?”

  Jax was walking towards the stairs that led to the third floor of the keep. “Exactly what you think I am intending to do.”

  Amadeo smiled faintly; that particular trait was much more like the Jax de Velt he knew. The man that fed off fear; the more terror in battle, the more powerful he became. Amadeo was pleased to see that two days away from Kellington Coleby had begun to erase whatever spell she had cast on him. At t
his moment, the woman would be well away from Pelinom. Or she would be dead. Either way, Amadeo was sure that Jax would thank him in the end. There was nothing more important than their mutual agendas. Nothing had stood in the way of it for nine years. Aye, he was positive Jax would thank him. With a snap of his fingers, the soldiers began to remove the cowering, crying family.

  Jax heard the commotion behind him as he mounted the stairs. The woman over his shoulder was as plump as she was plain, making it difficult to maneuver the narrow stair well. But he made it to the third floor of the keep and paused on the landing.

  “Which chamber is yours?” he demanded.

  The woman cried and squirmed, so he smacked her on the bottom. She yelped. “Which one is yours?” he repeated, louder.

  The woman tried to point. “T-that one,” she said.

  Jax spun around to the door behind them. “Here?”

  The woman sniffed. “Aye.”

  He went inside and slammed the door, so hard that the rafters rained dust down from the ceiling. He put the woman on her feet and she stumbled away, collapsing near her bed. She buried her face in the mattress, heaving.

  Jax stood there a moment and watched her. Then he removed his helm and set it on the table near the door. “Woman,” he said in a low voice. “Look at me.”

  Heaving, sobbing, it took her a moment to do as she was told. When she laid eyes on the man unmasked, she burst into fresh tears. Jax was used to it; his two-colored eyes most always had that effect on people. When he had been a lad, a priest in the nearby parish actually thought that his dual-toned eyes were the sign of the devil and had tried to exorcise him, so he was well used to the fearful reaction.

  “Stop weeping,” he commanded softly. “I would speak with you.”

  She was almost too far gone with hysteria to respond, but to her credit, she tried. “S-speak to me?” she wiped at her face. “I do not… oh, please, my lord; have mercy. Do not take from me that which is most valuable.”

  He scratched his head. “I am not going to take anything from you. I am going to purchase it from you.”

  That caught her attention. “M-my lord?” she questioned.

  He began to remove his gauntlets. “What is your name?”

  “A-Anne, my lord.”

  He set the gloves aside and fixed her in the eye. “Lady Anne, you will listen very closely to what I have to say. Your life depends on it.”

  Remarkably, her tears were fading somewhat. “Aye, my lord.”

  He shifted his weight on his big legs, thinking for a moment. “I want you to scream as loud as you can and continue screaming until I tell you to stop. Is that clear?”

  By now, she was more puzzled than frightened. “It is, my lord.”

  “Good. Now, scream.”

  She looked hesitant but he nodded his head to encourage her. She pealed off a pathetic scream and he shook his head.

  “Nay, not like that,” he said. “Scream as if I am murdering you. Do it!”

  She took a deep breath, and belted out a loud, long scream. He nodded his approval.

  “Excellent,” he said. “You will keep doing that until I tell you to stop. But first, tell me where you keep your jewels.”

  “Jewels, my lord?” now she was thoroughly perplexed.

  He looked at her as if she was an imbecile. “Aye, jewels. Where are they?”

  She pointed to the wardrobe. “In there, my lord. In a box.”

  He moved to the wardrobe. “Scream as if your life depended on it, Lady Anne, and it just might if you do not scream loud enough to please me.”

  Her terror returned and Anne began screaming as if Jax was cutting off her fingers one by one. As she watched, he opened the wardrobe and pulled forth her jewel box. She continued screaming as he opened the box and rifled through it, pulling out select pieces and laying them on the bed in a neat row. Curiosity of his actions won out and she briefly stopped screaming as she watched him, but he waved his hands at her and she resumed her chorus of cries.

  Anne had no idea how long she truly screamed, for it seemed like an eternity. Finally, Jax waved her off and she stopped her yelling, rubbing her throat as she watched him pick through the bottom of her jewel box. Cautiously, she rose from her crouched position next to the bed and continued to watch him with great interest.

  Jax had several pieces he had set aside, including a magnificent emerald and silver ring. When he looked up and saw the lady staring at him, he indicated the jewels in the pile.

  “I would like to purchase these from you,” he said. “What price will you ask?”

  Anne was flabbergasted. “P-Purchase?” she repeated dumbly.

  Jax lifted a dark eyebrow at her; she was not only plain, she was stupid as well. “Aye, purchase,” he said plainly. “How much will you take for them?”

  Anne was at a loss. She shook her head, shrugged her shoulders, and finally lifted her hands. “I… I do not know, my lord,” she said. “My father has given all of those to me. I do not know what they are worth.”

  Jax looked at the booty. “I am not in the habit of purchasing jewelry so I do not know what a fair offer would be,” he looked up at her. “Would twenty marks of gold be enough?”

  Anne didn’t know what to say. She looked rather confused before finally nodding her head. “I suppose that is fair, my lord.”

  “Good. I will return later with the money.”

  He collected the jewels and looked around for something to put them in. For as stunned as she was, Anne suspected what he was looking for and returned to her wardrobe for a silk purse. She handed it timidly to Jax, who put the jewelry inside it. Then he looked at her.

  “You would not happen to have any perfume, would you?” he asked.

  Anne nodded dumbly, pointing to the table on the opposite side of the room. It held a variety of things, including combs and phials of liquid. Jax went right over to it and picked up one of the phials, holding it up to the light to inspect it.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “I… I believe that one is Lilac, my lord.”

  “And the others?”

  There were two others. “Rose and Water lily.”

  “Do they smell good?”

  “I think so, my lord.”

  “Then I will take them all.”

  He made sure the stoppers were secure and stuffed them into the silk purse. Then he turned to Anne.

  She was pale and confused, but not nearly as hysterical as she had been earlier. But he would make sure what had happened in the room went no further. Removing a dagger from his belt, he watched her face turn gray as he brought it up. She staggered. But he brought the blade down on his wrist, creating a gash that began to bleed heavily. Moving to the bed, he smeared it on the coverlet.

  “There,” he said quietly. “Now, you will remain in this room until I personally release you. You will tell everyone that I raped you mercilessly and the proof is on the coverlet. If you deviate from this story, for any reason, I will kill you and leave your body for the birds. Is this in any way unclear?”

  She was back to being terrified and shook her head so hard that her brown hair came loose from its wimple. “No, my lord.”

  “And I did not purchase these things from you. I stole them.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  He glared at her just to make sure she understood. “You will take the truth of this encounter to your grave.”

  “I will, my lord, I swear it.”

  With a lingering look, he set his booty down long enough to replace his gloves and put his helm back on. Without another word, he quit the room and slammed the door behind him. Anne stood there for several long moments in shock before her relief got the better of her and she broke down in quiet tears.

  Kellington had told him she did not want the gifts of spoils of war and he had complied. He’d not stolen the items from the woman; he had purchased them. Not that she had been given a choice, but he had purchased them nonetheless.

  It wa
s a rather clever plan if he did say so himself.

  *

  Kellington never suspected what her father was planning. They had spent the night at a tavern in the small town of Brownieside, staying in the common room well into the night, talking and drinking and laughing. She had eaten well and slept well, dreaming of Jax when she closed her eyes and waking in the morning with his name on her lips. She was deeply grateful that her father had given his consent for the marriage and she had told him so often. But the more she told him, the quieter he became so she finally shut her mouth about the subject. It was obvious her father was having second thoughts and she did not want to change his mind.

  She still had no idea that anything was amiss as they traveled the next day. She chattered endlessly as Lavaine mostly listened and her father rode silently ahead of the pair. Although she did not recognize the road they were traveling on, she did not give it a second thought; there were a few roads that merged in Berwick-Upon-Tweed and she assumed at some point in her life she had traveled this one and simply did not recognize it. Nothing on earth would have given her cause to be suspicious that her father wasn’t taking her where he had promised. Nothing in her mind seemed strange.

  But in hindsight, she should have suspected something. Her father was inordinately quiet but she assumed it was because of the events of the past few weeks. Lavaine was quiet as well, but the woman had been strange since that day she had discovered her husband impaled on a post. When the tall spires of a distant castle came into view, Kellington only looked at it with interest. But the towers grew closer and she couldn’t remember hearing of a castle on the road between Pelinom and Berwick.

  Her father was taking them towards the castle. In fact, he reined his charger behind the ladies and encouraged them to proceed forward to the massive bastion. Still, at this point, Kellington was nothing more than mildly curious. As they passed beneath the great gatehouse and into the bailey, she finally turned to him.

  “Where are we, father?” she asked.

  Keats dismounted and went to her, helping her down from her palfrey. “I have decided to take a detour and visit an old friend.”