Keats opened his eyes and looked to the distance, watching the great army of men fan out along the meadows. They were forming blocks; he could see it. He’d seen the same thing almost a month ago at Pelinom as they had watched curiously then, having no idea who was coming or why. They should have known then what he knew now. There could be no other alternative.
“Lock down the fortress,” he hissed at Denedor. “Lock it down and prepare for the worst. We have something he wants and he’ll stop at nothing to get it.”
As they continued to watch, two riders broke off from the group and began to close the distance to Alnwick. De Vesci swore and ran off, mumbling about getting to his family. Keats and Denedor let him go, knowing the man would be no good in battle. He was a nobleman and had long ago given up fighting. That is why he had an army of men to do it for him, including Keats and Denedor. But as Denedor watched his liege stumble down the wall ladder, a thought suddenly occurred to him.
He thought of Kellington, still standing in the bailey. With a start, he rushed to the side of the parapet that faced the yard, only to be faced with a vast empty ward and no lady in sight. Panicked, he began to descend the steps to the courtyard below.
“Order the gates sealed,” he bellowed as he went. “Every man to his post!”
The soldiers on the parapet began to take up his cry, understanding that something very bad was approaching. The majority of them did not know who Keats Coleby was, or his daughter, and had no idea that the army on the approach was none other than Jax de Velt’s. All they knew was that their very calm captain had a twinge of panic in his voice, something that none of them had ever heard. It was enough to jar them into a stampede of purpose as they began to lock down the fortress.
Denedor reached the bottom of the ward and began to run back to where he had left Kellington. As he did so, he noticed that the main gates were beginning to crank closed. He was about to turn away when he caught sight of a medium blue gown just to the right of the main gates, standing well outside of the walls. The soft vision of blue against the brilliant green grass had his full attention.
Realization dawned and he switched direction, running faster than he had ever run in his life towards the closing main gates. He yelled to the soldiers above to open the gates and the men paused, looking confused by his command. But they dutifully complied. Denedor raced through the open gate, rushing to Kellington who was still standing just outside of the wall. She hadn’t moved; she just stood there with her hand over her eyes, shielding her gaze from the bright morning sun. Denedor ran up and threw his arms around her.
Kellington shrieked, nearly falling to the ground with the force of his hit. Panicked, she struggled to pull away from him.
“Denedor!” she gasped. “Have you gone mad?”
He swept her up into his arms before he said another word. “We must go inside immediately,” he tried not to sound alarmed.
She was greatly confused by his behavior. “What is wrong with you? Put me down this instant.”
He had her snuggly in his arms, walking back through the main gate very quickly. Kellington struggled against him, kicking and twisting.
“All will be well, my lady,” he assured her as evenly as he could. “Calm yourself and I will explain everything.”
“Calm myself? Me?” she repeated incredulously. “You are the one who nearly sent me to the ground with that tackle. I would say it is you that needs to calm.”
He put her down and she slapped his hands away, stumbling back from him. “What is the matter with you?” she demanded. “Why did you grab me like that?”
Denedor gazed at her, feeling disappointment sweep him more heavily than it had earlier. She was such a lovely, brilliant little thing. Something worth fighting for. He took her by the arm and began to pull her with him towards the gatehouse.
“Come along,” he said firmly.
Kellington didn’t like being drug around and strongly resisted. When she dug her heels in, he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her, kicking and fighting, into the gatehouse and down the steep steps to the vault. As she hollered her protest, he took her into the first of two cells and set her to her feet. Before she could recover her balance from being roughly set down, he slammed the old iron grate and locked it.
Kellington wasn’t frightened as much as she was baffled. But she suspected, deep down, why he had done such a thing.
“Sir Denedor,” she looked at him with her luscious golden brown eyes, wide with remorse and fear. “I was not going to run away, I swear it. I was only looking.”
He stood on the opposite side of the grate, his hands on his hips and the key in his hand. “I did not think you were going to run away, my lady.”
His reply surprised her. “You didn’t?” her brow furrowed curiously. “Then why did you put me in here?”
His gaze moved over the sweet lines of her face, knowing he was going to do everything possible to keep her for himself. Against Jax de Velt, that could quite possibly mean forfeiting his life. He was well aware of that.
“Because we are facing battle,” he said quietly. “I have put you in here to protect you.”
She just stared at him. “Protect me from what?”
He cocked his head. “Do you not know?”
She truly didn’t. She hadn’t seen the approach of de Velt’s army those weeks ago and, being relatively ignorant of war as she had repeatedly sworn, was not one to recognize an army on sight. It did not even occur to her that Jax would have come this soon. For all she knew he was still laying siege that mysterious castle that he would not tell her of.
“Nay,” she shook her head, her slender fingers winding around the bar grates as she pressed her face against it. “Who is here?”
Denedor sighed faintly, struggling to calm himself completely. He would need all of his wits for what was to come.
“De Velt,” he said quietly. “I have put you in here to protect you from the siege.”
Kellington’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? How do you know?”
“Who else could it be? Besides, your father identified the army and he knows better than most.”
Kellington suddenly came alive, rattling the iron grate madly. “Then let me out to talk to him,” she demanded. “Perhaps he will leave Alnwick alone if you turn me over to him. Please, Denedor; do as I ask or you will all face a horrible death.”
“We are already facing a horrible death,” he replied. “Turning you over to de Velt will not prevent that. He will simply take you and burn this place over our heads.”
“Nay!” she shook the bars that held her. “I will not allow him to, I swear it. He will listen to me. You must let me out!”
Denedor watched her, the way her cheeks flushed with emotion and the gentle curve of her lips as she spoke. He suddenly moved forward, grabbing her face through the bars and kissing her forcefully on the lips. Before she could pull away, he released her. Kellington stumbled back, her hand to her mouth as if to wipe away the memory of his lips.
“I will not turn you over,” he said quietly, steadily. “Jax de Velt is not worthy of you. He is a thief and a murderer and you deserve better. You may not understand that now, but in time you will. Your father has offered me your hand and I have accepted, so in the eyes of the law if not net in the eyes of God, you are my wife. And I will not turn my wife over to de Velt.”
There was no true animosity from him as he spoke, but there was a definitive possessiveness. Kellington’s first instinct was to flare, to deny him, but she kept her composure. That would gain her nothing. Removing the hand from her mouth, she moved back towards the cell grate.
“Denedor,” she said softly. “You know that I adore Jax. Why would you keep me from him?”
“I told you. Because he is not worthy of you.”
She sighed heavily. “I know that you are an honorable and decent man, and if Jax and I had never met, then I would be deeply honored to be your wife,” she reached out and grasped his sleeve. “But I
want to be with Jax. Can you not understand that?”
He was being sucked in by her eyes, feeling himself bending to her soft voice and sweet touch. With his last shred of control, he pulled back from her and struggled to focus.
“I do,” he replied, almost curtly. “But I have no time to discuss it with you now. I must see to the defense of Alnwick.”
He fled up the stairs even as she called after him. Kellington continued to scream for him long after he was out of earshot, but he did not come back. Finally, when all was deathly quiet, she sank to her buttocks against the cell grate, exhausted, and in turmoil, wondering what horrors this day would bring for all of them.
Then the tears came.
*
Jax and Atreus approached Alnwick at a dead gallop. The chargers, sensing battle, were working up great globs of foam from their mouths. As they approached the massively walled castle, they could see the activity up on the parapets and they slowed the horses to an unsteady halt. They gazed up at the top of the walls, looking at the hundreds of frightened faces looking down at them. Jax knew that they were in range of the archers, but it could not be helped. He had promised Atreus that he would negotiate and he could not do that from a mile away.
“Who is in command?” he bellowed.
His voice echoed off the great walls. When no one answered right away, he tried again.
“I am Ajax de Velt,” he boomed. “I will not ask again. Who is in command?”
There was some scuttling on the wall directly over his head. Looking up, he thought he caught a glimpse of Keats Coleby. In fact, he was sure of it and fury surged through him. He yelled up to the man.
“Coleby?” he roared. “Show your face immediately. I would speak with you.”
After several long seconds, Keats’ familiar features appeared over the wall. “De Velt,” he said calmly. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” Jax retorted. “Bring de Vesci and his commanders to the front gate. I am prepared to negotiate, but know this offer will only be given once. If you refuse or delay, I will unleash my siege engines on this place and you will all be dead by nightfall.”
Keats’ face disappeared. Jax and Atreus reined their horses towards the front gate, vigilantly aware of their surroundings, taking nothing for granted. Jax half-expected a volley of arrows to come flying at them, but so far, the men on the wall had remained still. He knew they were not foolish; if they were to kill de Velt, then his army would let loose hell upon them and, clearly, no one wanted that.
Jax wait impatiently for the gates to crank open. But they were kept waiting an excessive amount of time. Just when he was preparing to issue more threats, the great wood and iron panels lurched and began to slowly creak open.
But they only opened enough to allow one man to pass through them. As Jax watched, a big knight with very blond hair slid through the opening, followed shortly thereafter by Keats. As Jax watched Kellington’s father emerge from the safety of the fortress, it was all he could do to keep his anger in check. He was already in danger of breaking his decision to negotiate. He wanted to kill.
“Where is she?” Jax demanded.
Keats was trying hard to remain calm; that much was clear. Facing off against an enormous de Velt with his great horned helm and fire-breathing steed was harrowing enough.
“She is inside,” he said evenly.
“I know why you left Pelinom,” Jax said. “Suffice it to say that the reason why you left no longer exists. I have come for Kellington.”
Keats was trying to figure out exactly what he meant. “The reason I left was to remove my daughter from your influence.”
“I know that Amadeo threatened her life,” Jax clarified. “I know you had little choice but to leave. But I have come for her now and I expect her to be returned to me.”
Keats sighed heavily, less fearful and more defensive. “She does not belong to you, de Velt. She never did. I know how she feels about you and I know how you feel about her, but I am telling you now that I will never permit a marriage between you and my daughter. She is not meant for the likes of you.”
Jax dismounted his charger and handed the reins over to Atreus. He flipped up his visor as he walked towards Keats and Denedor.
“I understand your position,” his tone was surprisingly civil. “Your daughter is worthy of much greater men that I. But I will swear to you now that no man can provide better for her or respect her more than I.”
Keats lifted his eyebrows. “Provide for her with stolen goods and the blood of the conquered?” he shook his head. “Do you think that is a future she deserves? Do you think that will make her happy?”
Jax didn’t reply right away; his dual-colored gaze turned to the knight standing next to Keats. He was met with a steady, appraising gaze.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Sir Crosby-Denedor, commander of Alnwick,” Denedor answered evenly.
“Be gone. This conversation is between Coleby and myself.”
It was a snappish command. Denedor looked at Keats, who shook his head at him.
“He stays,” Keats told Jax. “He is the commander of Alnwick and as such is privy to any information we discuss, including my daughter.”
Jax lifted a dark eyebrow. “He is not involved in anything that has to do with Kellington. That is between the two of us.”
Keats was about to tell him just how deeply Denedor was involved but he refrained. He knew that de Velt would not accept that news calmly and he did not want to provoke Denedor’s death needlessly.
“He stays,” Keats repeated. “As for my daughter, you may not have her. I would suggest you take your army and return to wherever you came from.”
“I am not leaving without her.”
Keats’ lips twisted. “De Velt, understand that the only way Kellington will go with you is if I am dead. And I do not intend to die for a long time. You are not a worthy husband for her. I do not know how much plainer I can make this.”
Jax’s two-colored eyes glimmered strangely. He turned to Atreus, still astride his big charger. Atreus, seeing that Jax was at the end of his attempt at negotiating, flipped up his visor and slid off his charger. Since he had insisted on negotiations, it was now his turn to shine. And he’d better to a damn good job of it.
“What will it take for you to return the lady to de Velt?” he asked as he approached Keats. “Surely there is a compromise we can reach.”
Keats did not know Atreus; he had never seen him before and therefore had no idea who he was. All he knew was that if was with de Velt, then the man was a killer.
“There is no compromise to be reached,” Keats said shortly.
“Ah, but there is,” Atreus removed his gloves. “There is always a compromise. My lord de Velt is willing to negotiate terms. What is it that you want in return for the lady? Do you wish Pelinom returned? He will give it, and gladly, if you turn the lady over to him.”
Keats tried hard not to look shocked. He wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
“Pelinom?” he repeated dumbly.
“Aye,” Atreus was a smooth talker; he could see that the man was morbidly interested. “My lord de Velt will return your castle and all of your wealth. He will even restore what servants he can. Would you take that in return for your daughter?”
Keats’ surprise turned into outrage. “She is not a prize mare to be bartered for,” he snapped. “I will not turn her over.”
“Then you will die.”
Jax had said it, standing a few feet away. His two-colored eyes were riveted to Keats as all heads turned to him. He walked upon Keats, towering over the man by over a head. They all sensed that the time for compromise was quickly growing to a close.
“Give her back to me or I will raze Alnwick and all within her,” Jax growled. “I am at an end negotiating. Know that your stubbornness has caused the deaths of hundreds of people you just as easily could save. Is your daughter’s life worth all that?”
Keats
was back to feeling fearful and angry. “Ask yourself the same question,” he shot back softly, “for you are about to make the same choice. Is my daughter worth killing all of these people for?”
Jax nodded, very slowly, very firmly. “She is.”
“Then my answer is the same to you.”
“Wait,” Denedor spoke up, seeing that the situation was quickly deteriorating. “You came to negotiate, de Velt. Allow me to do so.”
Jax lifted an eyebrow. “Speak, then.”
Denedor’s pale blue eyes were like ice. “I have a counter offer,” he said, waiting the appropriate amount of time before delivering it. “Do you wish to see the lady?”
Jax was slightly off guard with the question but answered. “I do.”
“I can make it so.”
Jax sensed there was more to it than that; nothing in his life was that simple. “At what cost?”
“That your army leaves after you have seen her and never returns.”
Jax was not pleased in the least by the terms. “Who are you to dictate such terms to me?”
Keats cast Denedor a side-long glance, silently imploring the man not to tell him the truth. But Denedor wasn’t listening.
“I am a man of value and worth,” he said pointedly. “Worthy enough to be the lady’s husband. Considering her father and I have agreed to a betrothal, I believe I am being most generous in my offer. I will allow you to see my betrothed, even speak with her, but you must pull your army out without a sword being drawn.”
Jax just stared at him, digesting his words. Keats stood by, coiled, waiting for the man to strike. Even Atreus was tense, waiting for the explosion to come. Especially Atreus; he knew how unpredictable Jax could be. He knew that this could not end well and he braced himself.
But he was vastly surprised when Jax, very slowly, nodded his head. He did not even make reference to the betrothal, even more surprising. But it made Atreus distrust him all the more. He knew the man would not take this news lying down but could not figure out what, exactly, he was planning.
“As you say,” Jax agreed evenly. “Bring me the lady so that I might see her and I will withdraw my army.”
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