Conquests: Hearts Rule Kingdoms (17 page)

Melville did not want to enter war again, but he knew his duty. He knew that he had no choice before his King.

“When do we ride to battle?” He asked Jean sadly.

Jean shook his head.

“It is much worse than that.”

Melville sighed. He glanced to check that Avis was still playing with the children. This terrible news could do nothing but force them apart by reminding them of their differences. And just when there was beginning to be an understanding between them. He raised a hand to scratch at his dark hair, and sighed again.

“Tell me the worst.”

“He’s marching on the North.”

Jean’s statement did not make sense to Melville.

“William’s marching towards the North?”

Jean smiled wryly, but with sadness in his eyes.

“No. He’s marching
on
the North. At the North. He plans to destroy the North. To burn every town, ransack every home, murder every man, salt every field, slaughter all cattle. He intends not to destroy the North, but to make sure that it can never be inhabited again.”

Melville sat. There was nothing to say. He could not comprehend such destruction. William’s anger was famous throughout his lands, but never before had such vengeance been seen. It would make the invasion look tame.

Jean watched Melville as he tried to understand what he had been told. He owed a great debt of friendship to this dark and serious Norman, and nothing that his friend could say would alter that. He would have given much not to relay such terrible news.

Avis threw the ball over to the tallest child, clapped as she caught it wildly, and quickly scanned the top of the hill. She could still see Melville and the rider sitting, facing each other. But as she watched, Melville dropped his head, and the rider reached over an arm to console him.

Avis bit her lip. Whatever news the strange rider has brought, it was clearly not good. Despite her desire to run up the hill and comfort her husband, she knew that until he beckoned her to return, her presence would not only be unwanted, but unhelpful.

At the peak of the hill, Melville collected himself, and placed his hand over his friend’s that rested on his shoulder.

“What does my King want from me?”

Jean withdrew his hand, and avoided Melville’s eye.

“What are you not telling me, Jean?”

Jean shifted himself, uncomfortable and unwilling to speak.

“My friend, you must tell me.” Melville spoke calmly, but it was a front to cover the panic that was rising in his throat. “There has never been lies between us. Please. Tell me the truth, however bad it may be.”

“It is bad.” Jean spoke hoarsely, his emotion overcoming him. He played with the ends of his left sleeve, unwilling to look up, but he could not avoid Melville forever.

Melville waited, more patient than he had ever had to be in his life.

“The King wants nothing from you.” Jean muttered.

Melville’s forehead crinkled in confusion. “Then…”

And then the truth poured into his mind. He realised what Jean was trying to say – why he was finding it so difficult to say, and had ridden so fast with no rest to reach him.

Melville spoke in a dry voice.

“The King does not want my aid. He plans to destroy me and mine as part of the North.”

Jean nodded. “You are in great danger,” he said gruffly. “I have had to leave his court at night to reach you, but I am not sure whether my presence has been missed. But I could not let you be unable to prepare for this great onslaught.”

Melville smiled at Jean. “My friend, you have risked much to warn me. I thank you.” His smile faded. “But I am unsure as to what path to take. There is no clear way to safety.”

Jean nodded. “It may be…” his voice faltered, but he continued resolutely. “It may be that there is no clear way to safety.”

Melville tried desperately to picture this country’s geography in his mind. There seemed to be no way to remove his household out of the way of William’s murderous path – and as William seemed determined not to call him to his side, it seemed that he did not care whether Anglo-Saxon or Norman died in his vengeful path. He certainly did not consider Melville important or valuable enough to save.

Jean’s voice broke into his reverie.

“Melville. You may have to accept…you may need to send away your wife to her people.”

“She has no people,” Melville replied. “You know that as well as I.”

“In that case,” Jean sighed. “You have no choice whatsoever.”

“I shall send her to Ulleskelf.”

“Where?”

“The village by my manor. It is underneath my protection and lordship, but not directly on the road from the South.” Melville pictured the route that William would take. “She should be safe there.”

But Jean sighed sadly.

“You do not understand. You may not be able to prevent William from taking Ulleskelf.”

Melville stared at him in horror, but Jean did not look away. Eventually, it was Melville’s gaze that faltered.

“I hate the thought that I cannot protect them.” Melville murmured. “But I must return. I must prepare.”

Jean nodded. “I must return to the King, before I am missed.”

The two men rose, and embraced. Melville did not know if he would ever see his friend again, and he could not bear it.

Walking over to his horse, Jean mounted and looked down at his friend.

“Be strong.”

“Be careful.” Replied Melville. He watched as Jean encouraged his horse to gallop faster and faster, hurtling down the hill and past waiting Avis. Waiting to hear the news.

Chapter Twenty Three

Avis saw Jean ride past her, and after a few quick words of farewell to the children, began to walk towards Melville.

He had dropped onto the ground, once again lying on his back, but Avis could tell that this time it was not in relaxation but in troubling contemplation. She sat down beside him, and waited for him to speak to her.

As the silence lengthened, she could not help but ask.

“My lord. What news?”

Melville sighed sadly, and did not answer.

“Melville!”

The sound of his name awakened energy in him, and he sat up, reaching an arm around Avis and pulling her towards him. He exhaled deeply, and Avis realised that he was drawing strength from her. Something had clearly happened to rock Melville’s very core.

“Tell me,” she said softly.

Melville looked at her. Everything in him was desperate to protect this creature from all of the concerns that Jean had brought. He wanted to carry these burdens alone; but he knew for their relationship to be based on trust he had to be open. Even if that meant he had to expose her to yet more pain.

“Avis.” He pushed her slightly away so that he could see her face completely. “I want you to remain calm.”

“Can I be honest, Melville?”

“Please do.”

Avis smiled. “There is little you can say that can scare me more than I have been scared before.”

Melville chuckled sadly. “I wish that could be true, my dear.”

The affectionate term would usually have grated on her, but now it seemed perfectly right. Avis pushed a falling lock of hair away from his eyes, and smiled.

“Whatever it is,” she said softly, “you need to tell me.”

Melville sighed. “William is tired of the restlessness of the North. Edgar your athing – ”

“Æthling.” Avis smiled.

“Æthling.” Melville tried to return the smile, but could not. “Edgar and noblemen from both our peoples are rallying against William. The King has decided to ride on the North and destroy it.”

Avis did not understand.

“William is to destroy Edgar and his army? That surely does not concern us – unless, you are to join William’s army?”

“No.” Melville tried to explain the situation without terrifying her. “He plans to destroy every home, person, and animal. He plans to kill everything.”

Avis immediately rose. She could not even sit, she could not stay still, she could not rest.

“Such a thing – what sort of man could order such a thing, think of such a thing? It is impossible to think about even more pain and destruction in my land! This violence against her people has to stop!”

Avis was pacing up and down as she spoke, throwing her hands up in the air and gesturing wildly. She broke into a tongue that Melville did not recognise, but assumed was her natural Anglo-Saxon. Clearly, shouting in one’s mother tongue was a lot more releasing than having to do it in translation. He rose and tried to calm her.

“Avis,” he began, but he could not stop her speaking.

“You don’t understand! I have already seen obliteration of life. I cannot, I will not see it again. What are we going to tell the villagers of Ulleskelf? How can we protect them?” She stopped walking and glared at Melville. “How can you protect us? Few men survived from that village – only you and your men stand between us and death. What are we to do?”

Her fear was tangible, and Melville tried to calm her.

“This is not the end. There is much that we can do…”

But his voice trailed away. Although he did not want to admit this to Avis, Melville was not sure whether there truly was anything that he could do. William had given him land after the invasion, but he was not part of the King’s inner circle, and he was owed no favours or gratitude. There were no family ties or important friends that he could call on to protect him or plea on his behalf. He was alone. Even Jean could not stay with him. He had risked so much merely to warn Melville, but still could not remain by his side. Would there be anyone who would risk all to stand by him?

Avis had resumed pacing, muttering under her breath in phrases that Melville did not understand but could guess at. Melville stepped in front of her, and grabbed her flailing arms.

“Avis.” He held her close to him, and he could feel her shaking. “Avis, you need to stay calm.”

“How can I be calm?” She whispered erratically. “The world is ending.”

“Oh Avis,” Melville clutched her more tightly towards him. “The world is not ending.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

Melville could tell that Avis was crying, but did not want him to know, and so he did not comment on her wet cheeks.

“I promise you that I will do anything I can. Anything.”

Avis pulled away from him, and smiled through her tears.

“What are we going to do then?”

Melville gestured towards the food.

“Come and sit with me.”

The two of them sat down, but Avis was still shaking slightly. Melville passed her some fruit, and she reached out for it with a trembling hand. Melville could see the burn and blistered skin on her wrist where she had burnt herself in the kitchen, and berated himself for putting her through so much pain.

After Avis had begun to eat, Melville took advantage of the fact that Avis could not speak – or argue.

“I plan to travel to meet William. To beg for protection.”

Swallowing fast, Avis spoke quickly and in anger.

“Protection? William knows nothing about protection.”

“What other option do I have?” Melville retorted angrily. “I cannot just wait here, watching for William’s army to begin destroying my land, killing my people.”

“That’s what we had to do!” Returned Avis. “That is all we can do! We had no choice but to wait and watch the army end our lives.”

“Oh Avis!” Melville spoke angrily. “Can you ever forget what has happened?”

“No. It is who I am now.”

Melville stared at the ground angrily. Even within this moment, when they should be working together to protect each other, she could not forget that men who bore his name had hurt her. She could easily ignore the truths of his character in favour of her bitterness against his home country.

“What do you suggest then, my lady?” He said bitterly. “Which friends shall we flee to? Which country will offer us protection?”

“Your sarcasm is unnecessary, my lord,” Avis replied. “If not for your people, I would have family throughout this land.”

Melville’s impatience was completely used up, and he finally snapped.

“Grow up, Avis! What has been has been, and now you need to face up to the fact that our very lives are threatened. Reminisces of the past will not save you.”

Jumping up, Melville quickly mounted his horse, and began giving instructions to his servants to protect his wife.

Avis also rose.

“Melville?” She said uncertainly. “You’re not going?”

“I will not remain here to speak nonsense.” He said tersely. “I will see you tonight. We shall speak then.”

Melville rode away, and Avis watched him astounded. She could not believe that he had just left her. Perhaps she had finally pushed him just that little bit too far.

Chapter Twenty Four

Avis strode into the hall, but her temper had diminished during her long and slow ride back to the place that she now termed as home. During reflection, she had swung from incredible anger towards Melville, to shame at the way that she had retaliated. It was not his fault that King William had decided to obliterate the value of human life. It was not his fault that they had no one else to turn to for protection. And it was certainly not his fault that she had panicked.

As she looked around, Avis’ heart sank. He was not there. Seating herself at the top of the table, she tried to ignore the pointed stares of those around her. Voices muttered, and even a direct glare to the speakers from Avis could not quieten them. It was evident to all that another argument between the lord and lady had occurred, and though the two servants who had travelled with them that day knew better than to gossip, it would only take a few glances to tell the household whose fault they thought it was this time.

She began to grow hot. She could not bear the thought that all of these people around her could at any moment be under siege from one of the most powerful armies her world had ever seen. Avis shut her eyes, trying to drown out the fear, but it merely increased it. Behind her eyelids she could see the flames that had destroyed the village. She was a child again, hiding from the men that she knew would return. The shade of her old home could no longer protect her, and neither could her brother or father. Her mother had gone and there was none to comfort her here –