Devil's Dominion (35 page)

But he didn’t take too long for eating. He had someplace to be, so he continued along the road that was growing increasingly better to travel on as the rain dried up. With his steady pace and the better road conditions, he was able to make it to Lioncross well under what he had estimated. As he reached a crest in the road overlooking de Lohr’s great fortress in the distance, he could immediately see a rather large encampment about a half mile to the north.

It took him a moment to realize it was an army. He could see standards flying. Startled, he watched and waited to see what the army was doing. It seemed to be sitting there, camping, minding its own business, and Lioncross seemed unruffled. He could see men in the distance as they moved freely on the road in and around the castle, so clearly, the castle wasn’t under siege. Curious, he spurred his charger onward.

True to form, Lioncross’ main gate was open, the portcullis up, as people moved about without a care in the world. It was sunset and Rod knew the great portcullis would soon be closing, sealing in the castle for the night. As he thundered beneath the gatehouse and entered the bailey, his gaze fell upon Max Cornwallis standing near the smithy shack. Max spied him, waving a big hand in his direction, as he made his way towards him.

Wearily, Rod dismounted his charger and asked a soldier to take the beast over to the stable. Just as the soldier walked away with the exhausted horse, Max and Rod met up.

“Back, I see?” Max asked. “I thought you were staying at Bronllys.”

Rod lifted his eyebrows, an exhausted gesture as well as a knowing one. “I was,” he said. “I had to go on an errand. Where is de Lohr?”

Max gestured to the keep. “Inside,” he said. “But before you go into the keep, you should know that we have a visitor.”

Rod nodded. “I know,” he said. “I saw an army camped about a half mile to the north but I couldn’t make out the standards. Who is it?”

Max recited the name deliberately for maximum impact. “Jax de Velt.”

Rod’s eyes widened. He had never been any good at hiding his feelings, so his measure of surprise was more dramatic than most.

“Ajax
de Velt
?” he repeated, astonished. “What is he doing here? And why isn’t he burning down the fortress and sticking us all up on poles?”

Max snorted. “Because he has come on a peaceful mission,” he said, sobering. “He received a missive that his daughter has been abducted. He came to see Chris because, being a major marcher lord, he thought de Lohr would know something more about it.”

Rod scowled. “He is here
peacefully?
”

“He is indeed.”

“Is that even possible?”

Max nodded. “It is,” he said, turning Rod in the direction of the keep entry. “Go inside and see him.”

Rod was afraid to. He was torn between curiosity and terror. In fact, he started backing away, his gaze moving nervously over the keep. “We discussed the scenario should de Velt come to the Marches, bent on blood,” he said. “You were there, Max. You heard what was said, what we feared.”

Max nodded patiently. “I know what we feared,” he said. “But trust me when I tell you that de Velt is here to seek help in saving his daughter and nothing more. Chris has offered to help him.”

Rod still wasn’t sure about the entire situation but at least he’d stopped backing up. His dubious gaze was on Max. “How long has he been here?”

“Two days.”

“No executions? No men on poles?”

Max laughed softly. “None of those things,” he said, pointing to the keep again. “Go inside. The man will not tear the hide from you. He’s actually not so bad once you come to know him. Suffice it to say that time has matured and changed him, I think. He is as normal as you and I are.”

Rod’s eyebrows flew up. “Normal? De Velt?” he shook his head, now moving towards the keep. His curiosity had the better of him. “This is something I must see for myself.”

Leaving Max grinning in the bailey, Rod took the steps up to the keep and entered the cool, dark foyer. Directly in front of him was the great hall of Lioncross and he could hear soft voices deep inside the room.

As he approached the hall entry in the shape of the classic Norman arch, he saw a few servants moving around inside the room and there were four soldiers, de Lohr soldiers, near the door. Rod entered the hall to see Christopher and Edward with their backs to him, and a very large man with his long hair tied back at the nape of his neck all sitting at the feasting table. There was also another unfamiliar knight at the table and as Rod approached, the unfamiliar knight stood up, glaring at him with hostility. Rod glared back, insulted by the expression, as Christopher turned around to face him.

“Rod,” he said with surprise, rising to his feet. “I was not expecting you. What brings you back to Lioncross?”

Rod showed due respect to Christopher but the truth was that he couldn’t keep his focus off the big man and the unfamiliar knight at the table. The man had oddly colored eyes and was rather intimidating. At least, Rod thought so. Something about those eyes unnerved him.

“My lord,” he greeted Christopher. “I have come with more news about the mercenary. I hope my appearance is not inopportune.”

Christopher waved him off. “Of course not,” he said. “In fact, it is most welcome. Allow me to introduce you to Sir Ajax de Velt and his son, Sir Coleby de Velt. They, too, have come to Lioncross because of the mercenary. My lords, this is one of my finest vassals, Sir Rod de Titouan.”

It was a polite mutual introduction and Rod nodded respectfully to Jax, less respectfully to his arrogant son. Coleby seemed to have an arrogant attitude and Rod had visions of punching the young knight in the face should he continue his mental chest-beating. But his focus soon returned to Christopher.

“I have much to tell, my lord,” he said. “Things that will, coincidentally, interest Lord de Velt. May I sit? It has been a long ride.”

Christopher indicated for him to sit on his left hand, pouring the weary knight a measure of wine as Rod sat heavily. As Rod downed the entire cup of wine, Christopher eyed him with growing concern. He appeared exhausted, that was true, but there was something more, something he didn’t like.

“Tell us, Rod,” he quietly encouraged the man. “What more do you know?”

As Rod gazed at the two great knights, he almost didn’t know where to start. In truth, he was still a bit rattled to be sitting across the table from the infamous Jax de Velt, so he struggled to overcome that issue. So much had happened in his conversation with Bretton and, worse yet, with a captive who seemed less like a captive and more like a companion, a woman who also happened to be de Velt’s daughter. As Rod had told Bretton, strange forces were at work around the man. Pouring himself another cup of wine, Rod sighed heavily.

“I suppose it is best to start from the beginning,” he said, looking at Christopher. “Did you tell Lord de Velt about the de Llion connection?”

Christopher nodded his head. “I did,” he said quietly. “He knows that you are connected to the de Llion name but he also knows we do not have confirmation that the mercenary is, in fact, your cousin.”

Rod wriggled his eyebrows ironically as he took a long swallow of wine. “We have confirmation now,” he said, looking between Christopher and Jax. He finally settled on Jax. “My lord, the name the mercenary commander gave was Bretton de Llion. Lord de Lohr came into this information and knew that my family has connections with the de Llion family. In fact, my grandfather, whom I serve at Bronllys Castle, is a de Llion. When you conquered Four Crosses Castle twenty-five years ago, my grandfather’s son, my mother’s brother, was the garrison commander. He was killed in the siege along with his wife and two children, or so we thought. But then this mercenary commander surfaced, emulating your exact path of destruction along the Marches, and gave his name as Bretton de Llion. Bretton de Llion was the son of the garrison commander, whom we believed to be dead. He is my cousin.”

Jax bobbed his head in understanding. “De Lohr told me all of this,” he said. “You say you have confirmation that it is, in fact, your cousin?”

Rod nodded, facing the two lords. “After Lord de Lohr told me of the alleged identity of the mercenary commander, I returned to Bronllys to tell my grandfather of our conversation,” he said. Then, he shook his head sadly. “My grandfather refused to accept that Bretton had somehow survived Lord de Velt’s siege and would not speak of the possibility, but for my part, my curiosity grew. I was determined to know if Bretton, in fact, was alive and tearing up the Marches, so I sent a missive to Cloryn Castle and asked Bretton to meet me in Newtown if he was, indeed, Bretton de Llion, son of Morgan. I wanted to know if my cousin was still alive. I can confirm that he is.”

Christopher’s eyebrows lifted. “Then it
is
your cousin?” he said, somewhat stunned. “And you met with him?”

Rod nodded and drained the rest of his wine. “I met with him,” he confirmed. “There is no mistaking he is a de Llion. He looks just like the rest of the family. But it is much worse than we could have ever expected, for the man is nothing as I had hoped. He was not glad to see me. He is very bitter towards my grandfather for not trying to find him after Four Crosses was taken. But that bitterness aside, he holds a massive sense of vengeance against Lord de Velt and blames the man for ruining his life, so much so that the burned Alberbury Priory to abducted Lady Allaston de Velt. He plans to use her to lure Lord de Velt to his death, but you already know that. Here is where it becomes complicated – Lady Allaston de Velt was with him when he came to Newtown. I gave her the opportunity to escape and she would not take it. She says that she cannot leave Bretton because if she does, he will stop at nothing to kill her father, and she is quite convinced she can talk him out of it if she stays by his side. Lord de Velt, she stays with him willingly to protect you.”

Jax just stared at him, those dual-colored eyes wracked with emotion.  After an eternal moment of staring at Rod, digesting what he had been told, Jax let out a hissing sigh and rolled his head back. He ended up staring at the ceiling with the expression of a man who could hardly believe what he’d just been told.

“Allie,” he whispered. “God’s Bones, is it true? Is she really doing such a thing?”

Rod cast a long glance at Christopher, who seemed equally concerned. As Jax reflected on the state of his foolish, brave daughter, Christopher addressed Rod.

“Did she seem in good health?” he asked. “Good spirits?”

Rod nodded.  “She was healthy and whole,” he said. “But when I challenged Bretton to a fight to allow her to escape, she refused to flee.”

Jax was still staring up at the ceiling, now shaking his head in disbelief. “She was always a head-strong, foolish girl,” he muttered, eventually looking at Christopher and Rod. “But she is much like her mother in that she is extraordinarily brave and stubborn. If she thinks she can talk de Llion out of his vengeance, then she will not give up. She will be like a dog with a bone in her persistence.”

Christopher understood a woman like that, as did Jax. The older knights could comprehend the strength of women but Rod was still puzzled by it. With no wife, and no lady love, he wasn’t seasoned in the ways of woman like Christopher and Jax were. In fact, Rod came across as being rather insulted that the lady didn’t take him up on his offer to release her.

“I tried to help her escape,” he said, “but she flatly refused. But rest assured that she seemed quite healthy and sound.”

Jax did take comfort in that. “Then my mind is eased as far as her health is concerned,” he said, disgruntled. “But the fact remains that she has been abducted by a man who shows no fear as he murders and burns. She is at the mercy of a madman.”

Christopher couldn’t disagree. He looked at Rod. “Did de Llion seem unstable to you?” he asked. “How was the man’s demeanor?”

Rod shrugged. “As I said, he is very bitter against my grandfather and full of hatred against de Velt,” he replied. “He did not seem unstable, only resentful and determined.”

“How did he behave towards Lady Allaston?”

Rod thought back to his meeting with Bretton and the lady. “He was not unkind to her,” he said.  “He was not cruel to her and, frankly, did not treat her like a prisoner. When I first came into contact with them, I thought she was his wife.”

Jax’s brow furrowed. “Wife?” he repeated, terrified and disgusted. “
Wife?
Was he... God’s Blood, he wasn’t affectionate towards her, was he?”

Rod shook his head. “Nay,” he assured him. “I mean that they coexisted relatively peacefully. She was not resisting him and he was not being dominant over her.”

Jax fell silent, contemplating that scenario. Although he was vastly uncomfortable with it, it was better than the alternative – acting brutally towards her. As he contemplated the relationship between his daughter and her captor, Christopher spoke.

“Is there anything the man said that would be helpful to us in regaining Lady Allaston?” he asked. “Did he discuss any plans with you? Anything of value?”

Rod shook his head. “He did not speak of anything I would consider valuable to use against him,” he said. “Are you planning on launching an offensive any time soon?”

Christopher glanced at Jax before speaking. “Not immediately, at any rate,” he said. “Two days ago, I sent a missive to Cloryn Castle acting as a mediator on Lord de Velt’s behalf. Since I am not directly involved in the situation, Lord de Velt came to me to ask for assistance. He thought using me as a mediator might ease some of de Llion’s volatility. I will act like a buffer, as it were. But the same day I sent a missive to Cloryn, I also sent a missive to Keller de Poyer at Nether Castle asking for reinforcements. I do not want to ask for reinforcements from any marcher lords because it would deplete their force should de Llion decide to move against them, so de Poyer is the logical choice. He is buried deep in Wales and not in the direct line of sight of de Llion’s activities.”