Mercenaries and Maidens: A Medieval Romance bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Her humor was returning. “You must. And tell me again why you already have a husband selected for your child of a daughter.”

  Denedor laughed softly as they continued their walk.

  *

  Jax left one hundred men to man the garrison of White Crag. Michael, having convinced Jax that he was not in on Amadeo’s plot, was in charge of the fortress, as Atreus and Tor were riding with Jax to Alnwick. Atreus had tried to convince Jax to wait until they could send for more troops and the other generals, but Jax would not delay. He had two siege engines and seven hundred men, and sent a runner to Foulburn for an additional three hundred men. He realized that would leave his garrisons rather lean on protection, but it could not be helped. He needed all of his men for the siege on Alnwick. And he decided, once the castle was breached, that he would burn it to the ground. That was the vindictive side of him.

  As he headed south with his army, he knew it would be at least two days before the messenger reached Foulburn. After that, it would be at least a day before the army could mobilize and be on the road to Alnwick. Foulburn was at least a three day march from Alnwick, so Jax expected to beat his reinforcements to de Vesci’s seat by two days. A lot could happen in two days.

  He rode at the head of the column of seven hundred, lost to his thoughts. Tor and Atreus rode somewhere in the middle, shouting encouragement to the weary men, rallying them to Jax’s cause. It never took much prompting to rally the men because Jax was, in fact, generous with them. They lived and died by the man they both feared and admired.

  As dusk advanced on the first day of their march, Atreus approached Jax. On a normal battle march the men did not rest, but Jax’s men had been in heavy battle for nearly two weeks and were understandably weary. Atreus was trying to think of a non-challenging way to convince Jax to rest the men for a few hours that night when Jax, sensing his presence, spoke.

  “We will make camp in the trees up ahead,” he told Atreus. “If only for a few hours.”

  Atreus had been riding several feet behind him. “How did you know it was me?”

  Jax didn’t look at him. “Because I know your charger’s footfalls.”

  “And how did you know what I was going to suggest?”

  Jax did turn to him, then. “Because you worry like an old woman.”

  Atreus snorted and Jax turned back to the road ahead so the men behind him would not see his grin. Atreus reined his charger next to Jax and they continued on for several minutes in silence as the dusk around them deepened. The sky was shades of purple and blue, and the nightbirds flew overhead and startled the chargers. It was a lovely May evening.

  “Jax,” Atreus said slowly. “Never have I questioned your wisdom in all things but I have a concern, if I may be so presumptuous.”

  “What is that?”

  “Do you suppose that laying siege to Alwick is truly the best thing to do?” he quickly explained. “They will know we are there for the lady. What if de Vesci uses her as leverage against you?”

  “Her father will never allow it.”

  “Her father is the baron’s vassal. He will do as he is told.”

  Jax flipped up his visor and looked at him. “Then I will listen to your suggestion.”

  “You are not going to like it.”

  “I will listen.”

  Atreus paused an appropriate amount of time before speaking to let Jax know how serious he was. “Negotiate for her.”

  Jax stared at him long moment. “I do not negotiate.”

  “Not even for Kellington?”

  “She is mine.”

  Atreus could see that he was not in the reasoning mood. “She is, my old friend, but there is still that little matter of her father and the fact that she is not officially betrothed to you. If you simply raze Alnwick, take the lady and marry her, you could be adding theft to the long list of grievances against you. What if her father is killed in the process? Is that really how you want initiate this marriage?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Precisely that. For the lady’s sake, would you not wish for this marriage to start off on the right and proper path? She’s not some object to be stolen at your whim.”

  Jax continued to stare at him until he finally made a face and looked away. “All right, I’m listening. What path would that be?”

  Atreus fought off a smirk. “Hold the army off and try to negotiate with her father. Perhaps he will agree to your terms. But I would be prepared to give up Pelinom in exchange for the lady. In fact, I would be prepared to give up Norham and White Crag, too. Is she worth the asking price?”

  Jax realized he wasn’t at all distressed with the thought of handing back three hard-won castles. If it would return Kellington to him, he would hand over the Welsh Marches, too. In fact, he would hand over everything if it would only get her back.

  “She is worth all that and more,” he said quietly.

  “You may have to give up Foulburn as well and vacate Northumberland.”

  He turned back to Atreus with a twisted mouth. “Then I shall come live with you on the Marches,” he snapped without force. “It does not matter what they want in exchange. If it will return Kellington me, then I will give them everything.”

  All of the humor fled Atreus; he gazed steadily at Jax, understanding in those few brief words just how important the lady was to him. Though he suspected how much she meant to him and had said as much, he was still astonished by the declaration. It seemed unbelievable coming from a man who lived and breathed death.

  “Do you love her, Jax?” he asked softly.

  Jax averted his dual-colored gaze, his appearance suggesting great turmoil within him. “She is bold, willful, disobedient and sassy,” he said flatly. Then his expression turned painful. “But she is also beautiful, kind, wise, and compassionate. I think I loved her the first moment I saw her. She consumes me.”

  “My God,” Atreus breathed. “Truly?”

  “Truly. And if you repeat what I have just said, I will slit your throat.”

  Atreus knew he was serious, on both accounts. “Have no fear, my lord,” he said quietly. “Your secret is safe with me. But it will not be a secret for too long if you indeed return everything to Northumberland to get your lady back.”

  Jax didn’t say anything for a long while. They entered a stretch of forest and the army instinctively closed ranks to protect itself. Jax made sure his men were prepared and on alert before turning to Atreus.

  “Do you suppose I should purchase Pelinom from de Vesci?” he asked. “It is where Kellington grew up. I think she would like to continue living there.”

  Atreus’ eyebrows lifted, surprised by the question. It was so unlike Jax to think of someone else. “Perhaps you should ask the lady.”

  Jax nodded thoughtfully. “Good idea. We can live wherever she wishes.”

  The army broke ranks a few minutes later to set up camp. Atreus and Tor directed the men as Jax sat astride his charger and supervised, the great horned helm atop his head eerily outlined in the moonlight. Even though Atreus involved himself with the men, he couldn’t help but remain awed by his conversation with Jax. The man was being pulled apart by emotion, something he had never before experienced. That could be dangerous, especially when it came to Jax de Velt. The man was devastatingly unpredictable as it was without the added element of emotion. Love.

  Atreus prayed that he and Tor could control the man should the negotiations not go in his favor. He began to suspect they might be in for a battle so bloody, so brutal, that it would surpass all previous de Velt sieges.

  He prayed that de Vesci and Coleby would hand over the lady before it destroyed them all.

  *

  “I have a proposition for you, Denedor,” Keats said. “Please, sit.”

  Denedor was in de Vesci’s fine solar. The baron sat near the lancet windows on a chair built especially for him, one that was designed to take pressure off his hemorrhoids. They were so bad that he could not ride a horse any long
er. Keats stood near the hearth with a cup of wine in his hand, his handsome face strained with worry. It looked as if the man had aged years over the past several hours. Denedor sat expectantly.

  “How may I be of service, my lord?” he asked politely.

  Keats drew in a long breath, eyeing de Vesci as he did so. “Your liege and I have been speaking,” he began. “He is very fond of you.”

  “And I of him.”

  “He says that you are a fine knight.”

  “I am honored.”

  “He also says that you have more female admirers than you can handle, yet you do not seem to take interest in them. Why is that?”

  Denedor cocked a blond eyebrow. “I suppose because none have sufficiently caught my attention,” he said. “Moreover, I am a busy man. I have many duties at Alnwick that keep me occupied and I have a son to raise.”

  Keats digested that statement. “Then it is not because you have vowed never to marry again after the death of your wife.”

  Denedor’s brow furrowed. “Nay, my lord. I have done no such thing.”

  “Then if the proper marriage prospected presented itself, you would consider it?”

  Denedor shrugged. “Of course.”

  “Then consider my daughter.”

  Denedor hadn’t been expecting that; in hindsight, he supposed he should have given the line of questioning, but the proposal still came as a surprise. His gazed moved to de Vesci to see the man’s reaction; he was gazing steadily at his captain. Apparently, he had already discussed and approved of this.

  Startled, Denedor stood up and turned away from the men. His initial sensation was excitement; nothing had pleased him so much in a very long time. But on the heels of that came darker thoughts. This was no ordinary situation and would certainly be no ordinary betrothal.

  “My lord,” he turned back to Keats. “Your daughter is determined to marry de Velt. She cares deeply for the man. What you are asking….”

  “De Velt is not suitable marriage material,” Keats cut him off. “You know the man and his reputation, Denedor. If you were in my position, would you allow your daughter to marry him?”

  Denedor could see the father’s pain. He slowly shook his head. “Nay,” he said quietly. “But your daughter wants him nonetheless. I doubt she would take kindly to a betrothal between her and I.”

  “It is not her choice.”

  Denedor sensed desperation and he understood that. He would have liked nothing better than to agree to the betrothal. But not like this. He did not want to marry a lady who was in love with someone else. It was not fair to either of them.

  “That is where I believe you are wrong, my lord,” he said steadily. “What you ask… it would make the lady miserable. She is still very much in the de Velt mindset. Given time, she will more than likely forget about the man, but right now, it would only aggravate the situation were I to agree to marry her.”

  Keats perked up. “Then you will agree?”

  Denedor held up a hand to quell any misunderstandings. “Were de Velt not involved in all of this, I would marry her today. But he is involved.”

  “Do you fear him? Is that the issue?”

  Denedor shook his head. “I do not fear the man. What I am concerned with is the lady. Marrying a woman who is in love with someone else is no way to start off a marriage. She would end up hating me and I could not bear it if your daughter grew to despise me. That is no way for two people to live.”

  Keats sighed heavily and looked to de Vesci. The baron, sensing it was his time to assert himself on his captain, shifted in his chair and reached for his chalice of wine.

  “Denedor,” he said in a low tone. “I have known you most of your life. You are the finest knight in my stable. I know that you were very attached to your wife, God rest her. I know that it nearly destroyed you when she died. What Keats is offering you is a chance to reclaim that happiness and have more children. Do you not understand that?”

  Denedor nodded. “Of course I do, my lord, and if I were to remarry, Lady Kellington is such a woman that I would stop at nothing to woo. She is bright, intelligent and beautiful and in the short time I have spent with her, I would be lying if I said that she does not already have me somewhat smitten. But the lady is endeared to someone else and if I accept this betrothal and marry her, then there will always be some manner of shadow between us because she will forever see me as the man who took her from de Velt.”

  “She will get over it.”

  “Perhaps. But perhaps not.”

  De Vesci scratched his chin, sipping on his wine. “Coleby is determined to marry his daughter off so that de Velt cannot have her. Once she is married, he will have little cause or claim to her.”

  Denedor raised an eyebrow. “You speak of de Velt. He will murder her husband and marry her anyway.”

  “Not if he does not know where she has gone,” de Vesci’s small brown eyes narrowed. “Marry the girl and take her to Ireland. I have family there and you would be provided a castle of your own and lands. De Velt would never find you there.”

  “De Velt will tear this country apart looking for her,” Denedor said flatly. “If he feels for her as she says he does, then nothing will stop him.”

  De Vesci sighed irritably. “So what do you want in order to agree to this? Money? A title?”

  Denedor shook his head. “You misunderstand, my lord. You do not have to bribe me to marry the woman; I’ve already said that is not the problem. The problem is de Velt. If he is to be discouraged from the lady, then it will have to come from her lips. That is the only way I can imagine he will back off, if at all. If he truly wants her, nothing will stop him.”

  De Vesci and Keats looked at each other, pondering the truth of that rationale. Keats finally shook his head. “She is stubborn,” he said. “She will never discourage de Velt no matter what we do to try and convince her. Unless…”

  De Vesci sat forward in his chair. “Unless… what?”

  Keats turned his golden brown gaze to Denedor. “Unless… unless Denedor can charm her to the point where she forgets about de Velt. From what I’ve heard, you charm with little attempt. Perhaps if you put some effort into charming my daughter, she will forget about de Velt altogether. It is worth a try.”

  “Your daughter is well on her way to charming me senseless. I feel like a giddy squire every time I am around her.”

  Keats opened his mouth to reply but de Vesci beat him to it. “Listen to me well, Denedor,” he said quietly. “The lady is leaving Alnwick with or without you. I am therefore offering her to you first because you are a worthy man. However, if you turn this opportunity down, know that my next candidate is Piers Michelson. I am fairly certain he will not let this opportunity slip by.”

  Denedor’s calm demeanor turned stiff as he thought of his second in command; Piers was a younger man, slightly rash and very brave, but he was not an appropriate match for the lady. Denedor admirably kept his calm in the face of manipulation and threat.

  “She is far too good for him,” he said, purposely leaving out ‘my lord’ to let them know he did not appreciate being cornered. He looked at Keats. “You are seriously determined to marry her off and get her out of the country?”

  Keats would not meet his eye which suggested to Denedor that de Vesci was behind all of this.

  “Aye,” Keats said after a moment. “To save her life and separate her from that monster, I must do as I feel best. I would like to see her with a good man such as you. But I will not be choosy in desperate times.”

  Denedor stared at the man a long moment before turning away. This was sudden, that was true, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. He was sure he could change the lady’s mind about de Velt given time. But he needed more than they were willing to give. He could see how eager de Vesci was to be rid of the woman, a beacon to which de Velt would inevitably be pulled. He suspected that de Velt would not stop until he located the lady, which meant that, at some point, Denedor would have to face him. It wa
s not a pleasant thought. But he also suspected the lady, by then his wife, would be well worth it.

  “All right,” he turned and looked at the two men. “I will agree to a betrothal under one condition.”

  Keats was back to being hopeful. “What is that?”

  Denedor looked pointedly at him. “That you do not tell her right away. Give me time with her; at least let her become accustomed to me. I will tell her when I feel the time is right.”

  Keats looked at de Vesci, who was looking at Denedor. With a lingering gaze on his knight, he nodded his head. “Very well,” he said. “But you have little time. Keats leaves to intercept de Velt tomorrow. That means I want you well away from Alnwick by tomorrow night.”

  Denedor looked between the two men. “So you still intend to lure him here?”

  “I do,” de Vesci replied. “We will never have another opportunity like this again. But I want the lady well out of Alnwick.”

  “I assumed you would rather have my strength when you subdue de Velt. Am I wrong?”

  “It is more important that you have the lady onto a ship at that point. I have enough knights that can subdue de Velt with sheer numbers once we have him in our trap.”

  Denedor shifted on his big legs, finally crossing his thick arms. “If you intend on capturing de Velt, then why must the lady and I leave at all?”

  It was Keats who answered. His face was dark, his countenance brooding. There was nothing more powerful than a father’s concern for his only child.

  “Because we cannot take the chance that de Velt will elude us,” he rumbled. “If he does, I do not want Kellington anywhere near this place. He will find her. And he will take her.”

  Denedor cocked a blond eyebrow; he was older, wiser, a big man, and stubborn as hell once he got his teeth into something. That something was to be the lady.

  “Over my dead body.”

  Keats looked at him seriously. “Let us hope it does not come to that.”

  Somewhere outside the solar, a small figure lingered. Although it had not meant to stumble upon the conversation, it had heard it nonetheless. From the shadows, the figure had heard everything.