Devil's Dominion (31 page)

Allaston looked at the big knight as he gushed out his happiness. He did indeed look a good deal like Bretton, although he was a bit taller and not quite as bulky. Still, the family resemblance was uncanny. She let the knight remove her cloak and put it on a peg next to the hearth so that it would dry out.

“Sit, please,” Rod said, practically shoving her into a chair. He pulled up another for Bretton, hugging the man again before he pushed the chair at him. “Bretton, you have no idea how happy this makes me. After losing Rhys last year, I feel as if... as if God has given me back another brother.”

Bretton was still rather stumped by Rod’s enthusiasm but he managed to take the chair. He also managed to understand something about his cousin, Rhys, passing.

“Rhys is dead?” he asked. “I barely remember the man but I remember he was sort of a big, quiet lad. What happened?”

Rod’s jaw ticked. “The king,” he said quietly, perpetuating the fabrication that everyone knew about Rhys. “John executed him.”

Bretton wasn’t upset by it. He didn’t even really know his cousin. But it was clear that Rod was upset. Still, this entire meeting had his head spinning and he struggled to gain control of his thoughts and emotions. Rod was bowling him over with his enthusiasm and Bretton wasn’t sure he wanted such eagerness. He wasn’t sure he wanted anything at all, except perhaps a few questions answered.

“Then I am sorry for you,” he said evenly.

Rod nodded, his gaze riveted to his cousin. He simply couldn’t look at anything else. “It really
is
you,” he exclaimed again. “I still cannot believe it. I do not even know where to start except at the beginning. How is it that you escaped de Velt? We thought you were dead!”

Rod had taken the conversation right to the core of the situation and it was difficult for Bretton to collect his thoughts. The entire situation was overwhelming him and he struggled to gain his bearings. It was difficult for him not to lash out right away, too, and he labored with his self-control.

“I was not dead,” he said steadily. “I escaped with a few servants and we ran for freedom.”

Rod listened with great interest. “And you are just now returning to Wales?” he asked. “But why have you not contacted us before now? I do not understand. And what is all this about you leading a mercenary army?”

Bretton could see that Rod was genuinely puzzled and evidently had no idea of the truth behind his questions. That ignorance made him furious and the control he was struggling with shattered.

“You have the boldness to ask such foolish questions?” he hissed. “Let me ask
you
a question. Why did no one ever come looking for me? Do you have any idea what happened to me after I escaped Four Crosses? I was kept as a slave and abused in ways I cannot speak of before I escaped and began to learn the life of a mercenary. I had no other choice, Rod, because my loving family, who is evidently so glad to see me now, never made the effort to locate me back then. Stop acting as if you care about me because your actions over the past twenty-five years tell me otherwise. I am here today for one reason and one reason only, and that is to discover why my family left me to the mercy of others. Well? Why did no one ever come looking for me?”

Rod was taken aback by the passion coming forth from Bretton and he was frankly astonished by the questions. He sat back in his chair, bewildered, as Bretton’s venom poured forth.

“Because we thought you were dead,” he said simply. “Four Crosses was taken over by de Velt and he killed the occupants. We naturally assumed you were one of the dead.”

“But you never made the effort to find out for certain?” Bretton said angrily. “How could you do that? How could you just assume I was dead and not find out for certain?”

Rod could see that the man was more hurt than angry. Given the circumstances as he saw them at this moment, he didn’t blame him.

“Bretton, please,” he said softly, trying to calm the man down. “I do not know the exact circumstances because I was a child myself, so I suppose this is a question you must ask our grandfather. I know he mourned your family deeply. He still does.”

Grandfather.
The mention of the man took Bretton down a peg or two. His anger cooled a bit, thinking on the man he had loved so very much as a child. But his hurt, that deep despondency of abandonment from long ago, was overtaking him.

“Grandfather is still alive?” he asked quietly.

Rod nodded. “He is,” he said. “When I told him you might be alive after all, he went rather mad. He has been in a depression ever since because he does not believe it to be true. He thinks you are still dead.”

“Is that why he did not come?”

Rod shook his head. “He did not come because I did not tell him where I was going,” he said. “I wanted to see for myself if it was true first. I did not think the man could take a disappointment like that if the man calling himself Bretton de Llion was, in fact, not his lost grandson.”

Bretton eyed him. “Will you tell him it is me?”

“Of course I will.”

Bretton thought on that a moment. For the first time, he glanced over at Allaston, who was sitting quiet and still, watching the exchange. He couldn’t help but think that this was the same thing she had told him.
They assumed you were dead. How were they to know where to look?
In hindsight, he supposed she was right, but he still couldn’t get over that little boy who had prayed nightly for his grandfather to come and get him.

“I am sure he will not care,” Bretton said. Now, he was starting to feel sorry for himself. He reached out and poured himself a measure of Rod’s wine. “Now, I would ask you something, cousin. How is it you knew where to find me? And how did you know it was me?”

Rod watched Bretton take a long, deep drink of wine. “When you burned Alberbury, you gave a message to an old nun to deliver,” he said quietly. “The nun delivered it to some of Shropshire’s men, who in turn delivered it to my liege, Christopher de Lohr. De Lohr, knowing that I was related to the de Llions, summoned me to ask me if I had ever heard the name Bretton de Llion. You told the nun that you were at Cloryn Castle, so that is where I delivered the missive.”

It made sense. Bretton poured himself another cup of wine. “Did the nun do as she was told and deliver my message to de Velt?”

Rod shrugged. “I can only assume that de Boulers did,” he said. “Since the missive involved the capture of de Velt’s daughter, I am sure de Boulers did out of courtesy.”

Rod’s attention immediately moved to Allaston, sitting next to Bretton, and he was coming to think that she wasn’t so much Lady de Llion as she was his cousin’s prisoner. The knight in him, the protector of all that was good and pure, began to take over.

“And you, my lady,” he said quietly. “I assumed you were Lady de Llion but I am guessing that was an incorrect assumption. Am I wrong?”

Allaston, now at the forefront of the conversation, met Rod’s gaze steadily. She didn’t dare look at Bretton because she didn’t want to see his expression. It could have been one of intimidation or one of resignation. Either one was prone to upset her so she answered Rod of her own accord.

“Nay,” she replied. “I am Lady Allaston de Velt. Jax de Velt is my father.”

“Then you are his prisoner.”

“Aye.”

Rod nodded understandingly, drawing in a long, steadying breath. After a moment, he stood up, kicked the chair back, and withdrew his broadsword.

“My lady, please back away,” he said evenly. “My horse is around back, a black steed with four white feet. You can make it to my horse as I hold off my cousin. Ride hard south to Bronllys Castle and tell my grandfather who you are. He will help you.”

Allaston’s eyes widened with shock, looking at Bretton, who remained calmly in his seat. But his eyes were fixed on Rod.

“Is this truly what you wish to do, Rod?” Bretton asked. “I will not let her go, so you are in for a fight. If you think you can best me, I invite you to try.”

“Wait!” Allaston stood up, putting her hands out, eventually rounding the table and putting herself between Rod and Bretton. “I am not leaving, Sir Rod, although I appreciate your chivalry. I must remain with Bretton.”

Rod’s brow furrowed as he looked at her. “Why would you do that?” he asked. “He has abducted you. He burned an entire priory and killed dozens of nuns for the privilege. And you say that you must stay with him? I do not understand.”

Allaston faced off against Rod, a big man with a big sword. “Because he wants to kill my father,” she said, wondering if he would understand her logic. “As long as I remain with him, mayhap I can convince him otherwise. If I flee now, he will continue with his vengeance against my father and I do not wish to see my father killed.”

Rod did indeed understand her reasoning. He didn’t like it, but he understood. “So you are voluntarily remaining with him?”

Allaston nodded firmly. “I am,” she said. Then, her eyes glimmered with pain. “I must.”

Rod sighed heavily and, giving the woman a somewhat sorrowful expression, sheathed his broadsword. As if he hadn’t just drawn his sword against his cousin, he collected his seat, took the cup away from Bretton, and drained the contents. He found that he needed it.

“This is all so damn confusing,” he said, pouring more wine. “Since when do prisoners want to remain with their captors? I was prepared to go head to head against my own flesh and blood for you, my lady.”

Allaston was still standing up, now closer to Rod than she was to Bretton. “And I appreciate your chivalry, as I said,” she replied. “But I will not leave Sir Bretton. I choose to remain.”

“I am not ‘Sir’ Bretton,” Bretton muttered. “I am simply Bretton. Slaves and mercenaries are not usually knighted, as it is a noble profession. My profession is not noble and I was never knighted.”

Both Rod and Allaston looked at him with some surprise. “All de Llion men are knighted,” Rod said frankly. “We have never had a man in our family who has not been knighted. I can knight you right now, as I was knighted personally by King Richard. So was my brother, Rhys. I will knight you, Bretton.”

Bretton’s first reaction was one of surprise and gratitude. Of course he had always wanted to be a knight. It had been a dream of his since he had been very young. He was certainly skilled enough, but there was more to it than that, enough so that he knew he would never make a true knight. He had committed too much wrongdoing against the church, against mankind in general, for him to be an honor to the knighthood. It was something that was not possible in his world.

“Nay,” he said, shaking his head. “Knights are sworn to uphold the chivalric code and that is something I cannot and will not do. I respect the knighthood enough not to want to sully it.”

Rod was perplexed. The man before him was not what he had expected, although he wasn’t sure what, exactly, he had hoped for. It was clear that Bretton de Llion was a complex man, one that Rod didn’t entirely relate to or understand. His hopes for forging a relationship with the man were slowly being dashed because it was clear that Bretton wanted no such thing. After a moment’s pause, he shook his head.

“There are strange forces at work around you, Bretton,” he said. “Although I am still very glad to find you alive, I am not sure what goes on with you. You are not the cousin I expected.”

Bretton looked at the man. “What
did
you expect?” he asked, a tinge of anger in his tone. “My family was killed when I was five years old and I escaped with a few servants although sometimes I wonder if it would have been better had I died. The servants sold me into slavery to a man who raped me repeatedly, and when I was old enough to escape him, I squired for an Irish mercenary who would get drunk and beat me to a pulp until I was old enough to best him in a fight. Unlike you and your posh life where you were loved and taken care of, I have had to fight for every breath I’ve ever taken. I’ve had to fight for everything I have. Vengeance against Jax de Velt has been the only thing keeping me alive and I swear to God that I will finish what I started. So do not judge me, cousin. You have no right. No right at all.”

With that, he stood up and grabbed Allaston by the arm, pulling her up with him. But Rod stood up, reaching out to grasp Bretton before he could get away.

“I am sorry, Bretton, truly,” he said. “Do not leave. I did not mean to offend you. I understand that it has not been easy for you and, believe me, I am not judging you. No matter who you are or what you’ve done to get there, you are still my cousin and I am very glad to know you have returned. As for the rest… well, I would never judge you in any case whether or not I agree with your methods.”

Bretton eyed his cousin, somewhat soothed by the man’s words. Slowly, he regained his seat, as did Allaston.

“I do not even know why I came here today,” Bretton muttered after he’d sat back down. “Wild curiosity, I suppose. I wanted to know how you found me. I wanted to know why no one ever came looking for me. Now, I know everything. You have heard about me and I have heard about you. I am not entirely sure if there is much more to say between us.”

Rod was still holding on to Bretton’s arm as if fearful the man was going to run off. “Mayhap there is not,” he said softly. “But we are family. I would like to come to know you better, Bretton.”