Medieval Master Warlords
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Authors: Kathryn le Veque
Medieval Master Warlords
A collection of dark Medieval romances with unconventional heroes
By Kathryn Le Veque
Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.
©Copyright 2014 by Kathryn Le Veque Novels
ISBN ebook
Text by Kathryn Le Veque
Cover by Kathryn Le Veque
Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.
All Rights Reserved.
Author’s Note:
Welcome to the Darkness….
This bundle contains two dark and sometimes gruesome romances. The Dark Lord and Devil’s Dominion are related - in fact, Devil’s Dominion is the sequel to The Dark Lord. The Dark Lord comes twenty-five years before Devil’s Dominion and both novels employ some fairly graphic descriptions of what Medieval warlords were capable of. But don’t let that put you off of the novels – they are, more than anything else, novels of redemption. Yes, the heroes can be rather brutal, but they are also worthy of saving. In every darkness, there is hope. Keep that in mind when reading them.
I am happy to present to you two unconventional, sometimes dark and nasty, Medieval romances with unforgettable heroes. These aren’t light and happy reads, but there is great emotion in them and they have happy endings. I truly hope you enjoy the Warlord collection.
Hugs,
Kathryn
Novels by Kathryn Le Veque
Medieval Romance: The White Lord of Wellesbourne The Dark One: Dark Knight While Angels Slept Rise of the Defender Spectre of the Sword Unending Love Archangel Lord of the Shadows Great Protector To the Lady Born The Falls of Erith Lord of War: Black Angel The Darkland Black Sword Unrelated characters or family groups: The Whispering Night The Dark Lord, Devil’s Dominion The Gorgon The Warrior Poet Guardian of Darkness (related to The Fallen One) Tender is the Knight The Legend Lespada The Wolfe, Serpent Lord of Light The Questing Netherworld The Dragonblade Trilogy: Dragonblade Island of Glass The Savage Curtain The Fallen One Fragments of Grace Novella, Time Travel Romance: Echoes of Ancient Dreams Time Travel Romance: The Crusader Kingdom Come | Contemporary Romance: Kathlyn Trent/Marcus Burton Series: Valley of the Shadow The Eden Factor Canyon of the Sphinx The American Heroes Series: Resurrection Fires of Autumn Evenshade Sea of Dreams Purgatory Other Contemporary Romance: Lady of Heaven Darkling, I Listen Note: All Kathryn’s novels are designed to be read as stand-alones, although many have crossover characters or crossover family groups. Novels that are grouped together have related characters or family groups. Series are clearly marked. All series contain the same characters or family groups except the American Heroes Series, which is an anthology with unrelated characters. There is NO particular chronological order for any of the novels because they can all be read as stand-alones, even the series. |
A Medieval Romance
By Kathryn Le Veque
©Copyright 2014 by Kathryn Le Veque Novels
Text by Kathryn Le Veque
Cover by Kathryn Le Veque
Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.
All Rights Reserved.
- Beowulf, Chapter II
CHAPTER ONE
May, 1180 AD
Scots Borderlands, England
He had her by the hair; strands of spun gold clutched in the dirty mailed glove. Perhaps it was because she had tried to bite him and he did not want to chance another encounter with her sharp white teeth. Or perhaps it was because he was a brute of a man, sworn to Ajax de Velt and knowing little else but inflicting terror. Whatever the case, he had her tightly. She was trapped.
The woman and her father were on their knees in great hall of the keep that had once belonged to them. Now it was their prison as enemy soldiers overran the place. There were memories of warmth and laughter embedded in the old stone walls, now erased by the terror that filled the room.
Pelinom Castle had been breached before midnight when de Velt’s army had tunneled under the northeast tower of the wall, causing it to collapse. The woman and her father had tried to escape, along with the populace of their castle, but de Velt’s men had swarmed them like locusts. It was over before it began.
Around her, the woman could hear the cries of her people as de Velt’s men ensnared them. She had been captured by an enormous knight with blood splashed on his plate armor and she had understandably panicked. Even now, trapped against the floor of the great hall, she was panicked and terrified. Tales of de Velt’s atrocities were well known in the lawless north of England, for it was a dark and lawless time. She knew they were about to enter Hell.
From the corner of her eye, she could see her father on his knees. Sir Keats Coleby was a proud man and he had resisted the invasion gallantly. Why he hadn’t been outright killed, as the garrison commander, was a mystery. But he was well-bloodied for his efforts. The woman couldn’t see his face and she fixed her gaze back to the floor where the knight held her head. He very nearly had her nose pushed into the stone.
There was a great deal of activity around them. She could hear men shouting orders as the screams of her people eventually faded. Horror consumed her, knowing that de Velt’s men were more than likely doing unspeakable things to her servants and soldiers. Tears stung her eyes but she fought them. She wondered what horrors de Velt had planned for her and her father.
She didn’t have long to wait. With her face nearly pressed to the stone, she heard a deep, rumbling voice.
“Your name, knight.”
The woman’s father answered without hesitation. “Sir Keats Coleby.”
“You are commander of Pelinom, are you not?”
“I am.”
“And the girl?”
“My daughter, the Lady Kellington.”
The silence that filled the air was full of anxiety. Kellington could hear boot falls all around her, though it was difficult to see just how many men were surrounding them. It felt like the entire army.
“Release her,” she heard the voice say.
Immediately, the hand in her hair was removed and she stiffly lifted her head. Several unfriendly faces were glaring down at her, some from behind raised visors, some from helmless men. There were six in all, three knights and at least three soldiers. There could have been more standing behind her that she did not see, but for now, six was enough. Kellington’s heart was pounding loudly in her ears as she looked around, waiting for the coming confrontation. The knight to her right spoke.
“How old are you, girl?”
She swallowed; her mouth was so dry that there was nothing to swallow and she ended up choking. “I have seen eighteen years, my lord.”
The knight shifted on his big legs and move d in front of her; Kellington’s golden-brown eyes dared to gaze up at him, noting a rather youngish warrior with a few days growth of beard and close-shorn blond hair. He didn’t look as frightening as she had imagined, but she knew if the man was sworn to de Velt, then he must be horrible indeed.
“Does your husband serve Pelinom?” he asked, his deep voice somewhat quieter.
“I am not married, my lord.”
The knight glanced over at Keats, who met his gaze steadily. Then he turned his back on them both, leaving them to stew in fear. Kellington watched him closely, struggling to keep her composure. She wasn’t a flighty woman by nature, but panic was the only option at the moment.
“Are there any others of the ruling house here?” the knight paused and turned to look at them. “Only the garrison commander and his daughter? No sons, no husband, no brothers?”
Keats shook his head. “Just my daughter and I.”
He deliberately left out ‘my lord’. If it bothered the knight, he did not show it. Instead, he turned his focus to the gallery above, the ceiling and the walls. Pelinom was a small but rich and strategically desirable castle and he was pleased that they had managed to capture her relatively intact. The chorus of screams that had been prevalent since the army breached the bailey suddenly picked up again, but the knight pretended not to notice. He returned his focus to Keats.
“If you are lying to me, know that it will only harm you in the end,” he said in a low voice. “The only class spared at this time is the ruling house. All others are put to death, so you may as well confess before we kill someone who is important to you.”
Keats didn’t react but Kellington’s eyes widened. She had never been a prisoner before and had no idea of the etiquette or behaviors involved. Living a rather isolated existence at Pelinom for most of her life, it had left her protected for the most part. This siege, this horror, was new and raw.
“What does that mean?” she demanded before she could stop her tongue. “It is only my father and I, but my father has knights who serve him and we have servants who live here and…”
The knight flicked his eyes in her direction. “You will no longer concern yourself over them.”
She leapt to her feet. “My lord, please,” she breathed, her lovely face etched with anguish. “My father’s knight and friend is Sir Trevan. He was with us when you captured us, but now I do not see him. Please do not harm him. He has a new infant and…”
“The weak and small are the first to be put to the blade. They are a waste of food and space within a military encampment.”
Kellington’s eyes grew wider, tears constricting her throat. Her hands flew to her mouth. “You cannot,” she whispered. “Sir Trevan and his wife waited years for their son to be born. He is so small and helpless. Surely you cannot harm him. Please; I beseech you.”
The knight lifted an eyebrow at her. Then he glanced at the other knights and soldiers standing around them; they were all de Velt men, born and bred to war. All they knew was death, destruction and greed. There was little room for compassion. He looked to Keats once more.
“Explain to your daughter the way of things,” he turned away from them, seemingly pensive. “I will listen to what you tell her.”
Keats sighed heavily, his gaze finding his only child. Though a woman grown she was, in fact, hardly taller than a child. But her short stature did nothing to detract from a deliciously womanly figure that had come upon her at an early age. Keats had seen man after man take a second look at his petite daughter, investigating the golden hair and face of an angel. He was frankly surprised that the de Velt men hadn’t taken her for sport yet, for she was truly a gorgeous little thing. He was dreading it, knowing it was only a matter of time and there was nothing on earth he could do to stop them. The thought made him ill.
“Kelli,” he said softly. “I know that you do not understand since you have never seen a battle, but this is war. There are no rules. The victor will do as he pleases and we, as his prisoners, must obey.”
“He will kill a baby?” she fired back. “That is unthinkable; it’s madness. Why must they kill the child? He’s done nothing!”
“But he could grow up to do something,” Keats tried to keep her calm. “Do you remember your Bible? Remember how the Pharaoh killed all of the first born males of Israel, afraid that one of them would grow up to be the man prophesized to overthrow him? ‘Tis the same with war, lamb chop. The enemy does not see man, woman or child. He only sees a potential killer.”
“You understand well the concept of destruction.”
They all turned to the sound of the voice; a deep, booming tone that rattled the very walls. Keat’s had the first reaction all evening, his brown eyes widening for a split second before fading. Kellington stared at the man who had just entered the great hall as all of the other men around her seemed to straighten. Even the knight who had been doing the questioning moved forward quickly to greet the latest arrival.
“My lord,” he said evenly. “This is Sir Keats Coleby, garrison commander of Pelinom, and his daughter the Lady Kellington. They claim that they are the only two members of the ruling house.”
The man who stood in the entrance to the great hall was covered in mail, plate protection and gore. He still wore his helm, a massive thing with horns that jutted out of the crown. He was easily a head taller than even the tallest man in the room and his hands were as large as trenchers. The man’s enormity was an understatement; he was colossal.
He radiated everything evil that had ever walked upon the earth. Kellington felt it from where she stood and her heart began to pound painfully. She resisted the urge to run to her father for protection, for she knew that no mortal could give protection against this. The very air of the great hall changed the moment the enormous man entered it. It pressed against her like a weight.
The great helmed head turned in the direction of the knight who had been doing the interrogation, now standing before him. Then he loosened a gauntlet enough to pull it off, raising his visor with an uncovered hand. The hand was dirty, the nails black with gore.
“I’ve been told the same,” he replied, his voice bottomless. “We counted only four knights total, including Coleby, so this is the lot of them.”
“Would you finish questioning the prisoners, my lord?”
For the first time, the helmed head turned in their direction. Kellington felt a physical impact as his eyes, the only thing visible through the helm, focused on her. Then she noticed the strangest thing; the left eye was muddy brown while the right eye, while mostly of the same muddy color, had a huge splash of bright green in it. The man had two different colored eyes. It unnerved her almost to the point of panic again.
“I heard some of what you were saying,” the enormous knight said, still focused on Kellington. Then he looked at Keats. “Your explanation was true. You comprehend the rules of engagement and warfare so there will be no misunderstanding.”
Keats didn’t reply; he didn’t have to. He knew who the man was without explanation and his heart sank. The knight continued into the room, scratching his forehead through the raised visor. Kellington followed him, noticing he passed closely next to her. She barely came up to his chest.
“I am de Velt,” he said, returning his attention to both Kellington and Keats. “Pelinom Castle is now mine and you are my prisoners. If you think to plead for your lives, now would be the time.”
“We must plead for our lives?” Kellington blurted. “But why?”
The massive knight looked at her but did not speak. The second knight, the one in charge of the interrogation, answered. “You are the enemy, my lady. What else are we to do with you?”
“You do not have to kill us,” she insisted, looking between the men.
“Kelli,” her father hissed sharply.
“Nay, Father,” she waved him off, returning her golden-brown focus to de Velt. “Please, my lord, tell me why you would not spare our lives? If you were the commander of Pelinom, would you not have defended it also? That does not make us the enemy. It simply makes us the besieged. We were protecting ourselves as is our right.”
De Velt’s gaze lingered on her a moment. Then he flicked his eyes to the man at his side.
“Take Coleby.”
“No!” Kellington screamed, throwing herself forward. She tripped on her own feet and ended up falling into de Velt. With small soft hands, she clutched his grisly mail. “Please, my lord, do not kill my father. I beg of you. I will do anything you ask, only do not kill my father. Please.”
Jax gazed down at her impassively. When he spoke, it was to his men. “Do as I say. Remove the father.”
The tears came, then. “Please, my lord,” she begged softly. “I have heard that you are a man with no mercy and it would be easy to believe that were I to give credit to the rumors of your cruelty. But I believe there is mercy in every man, my lord, even you. Please show us your mercy. Do not do this horrible thing. My father is an honorable man. He was only defending his keep.”
Jax wasn’t looking at her; he was watching his men pull Keats to his feet. But the older knight’s attention was on his distraught daughter.
“Kelli,” he hissed at her. “Enough, lamb chop. I would have your brave face be the last thing I see as I leave this room.”