Medieval Master Warlords (28 page)

Leaving Keats and the baron to their wine, he went to speak to his men.  He seriously wondered how many he would have left alive come the dawn.

***

Kellington awoke to Jax rising from the rug they were lying on. Wrapped in his massive arms, she had been warm and safe and comfortable.  His movement left her feeling alone and she blinked the sleep from her eyes, pushing the stray hair from her face.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

He smiled at her. “I was trying not to wake you,” he said, securing his breeches. “As much as I would love to lounge with you all day, there are a few tasks that require my attention.  Go back to sleep if it pleases you.”

It took Kellington a moment to realize she was stark naked on the rug and she quickly looked around for her shift.  Without Jax’s massive body to shield and cover her, she felt very exposed. She spoke as she grabbed for her undergarments.

“Can I come with you?” she asked. “I do not want to wait here all alone. I will not be a bother, I promise.”

His smile faded as he watched her pull the shift over her head, covering her magnificent body. “Kelli,” he said slowly. “There is something you must understand about my army.  They are not men of honor or character; they are mercenaries and murderers, and to have you wandering among them, even if you are with me, will only invite their dark fantasies.  I do not want you exposed or paraded to my men.  It is best if you stay here, protected by a select few men that I trust, and wait for my return.”

She pulled her gown over her head, turning her back to him and indicating for him to help her fasten the stays on the back.  He did so in silence, his big fingers nimbly navigating the buttons.

“I suppose when the newness of all of this wears off, there will be a great many things that I must become accustomed to,” she finally said. “I will have to resign myself to the fact that my life has changed.”

He finished the last stay and gently turned her around, his enormous hands on her shoulders.  The dual-colored eyes gazed warmly at her.

“It has changed,” he agreed. “But hopefully it is a change you will not regret.”

She smiled. “As long as we are together, I can adjust.  But you and I come from such different worlds, Jax.  My world was one of peace and trust.  Yours is of war and treachery.  I wish I could have shown you my world in the days before….”

Her smile faded, unable to finish her sentence.  Anything she could think to say sounded too accusing or bitter.  And she was not bitter.  Jax’s ambition had brought him to her and she was not sorry for it.  But she was sorry he had destroyed something very precious that he would never understand.

He knew what she was going to say without benefit of words and he felt a stab of remorse.   His hands began to caress her arms.  “In just the short time I have known you, I have come to see something of a world that I never knew,” he said quietly. “I told you once that you were a corner of heaven I never knew existed; I should like to learn everything I can about it.  But, inevitably, when you mix heaven and hell, there are bound to be some adjustments on both sides.  I can never fully change and neither can you; but I would not have you any other way.”

Her smile returned as she studied his face, the square jaw, and two-colored eyes that were so beautiful to her. “My God, I was so frightened of you when you first came to Pelinom,” she murmured, reaching up to touch his face and he pulled her close. “I was certain you were going to kill us.”

He kissed her fingers when the moved across his lips. “I knew the moment I saw you that there was something different about you,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. “I decided the moment you asked me why you should beg for your life that I would spare the sassy, outspoken wench.”

She pursed her lips threateningly and he laughed.  But as they both sobered, her golden-brown eyes were intense on him.

“May I ask you a question?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, God; here it comes. Well? What is it?”

“I wish for you to be honest with me.”

“Is that your question?”

“Of course not. But if there is to be one thing we can both depend upon in this marriage, I will ask that it be truth. Total truth. Do you disagree?”

“I thought we were to depend upon our love for each other.”

“That goes without saying.  All I will ever ask is that you be truthful with me, Jax. I am serious.”

“You have already asked a sight more than that.”

She lowered her gaze and he could see that he had hurt her feelings.  He squeezed her gently. “I was jesting, love,” he squeezed her again. “What is your question?”

She toyed with the ties of his tunic. “Where did you go when you left Pelinom?”

His smile, his light mood faded.  “Why do you want to know?”

“I just do. No specific reason.”

Jax realized as he gazed down at her that it was going to be difficult for him to tell her. He’d become so accustomed to secrecy within his ranks that it was difficult to divulge critical information.  He’d made a life out of not trusting most.  But with Kellington, he realized he wanted to trust her. He wanted to tell her everything. He knew that she would never betray him; her integrity and courage was too strong.

“I went to White Crag Castle,” he said quietly.

She kept her surprise in check admirably. In fact, she was very calm as she spoke. “I know Lady Jane and Lady Anne Crandall,” she said, though her voice was trembling. “You… you did not harm them, did you?”

He touched her face. “They are well and whole,” he replied. “So are their father and mother.”

She closed her eyes in thanks, sighing heavily with relief.  But it wasn’t enough to stave off the tears and they spilled over onto her cheeks as she fell forward against him. His massive hand was on her head, clutching it against his chest as his other arm went around her slender body.  Her reaction puzzled him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked softly. “I did as you asked.  I showed them mercy.”

She sobbed softly and he pulled her closer, guilt creeping into his veins, knowing instinctively that he was the cause of her tears.

“I… I am grateful,” she whispered. “I can ask no more.”

That only made him feel guiltier. He hugged her tightly, hoping to ease her sorrow, not knowing what else to say.  He did not want to be the cause of her tears. After a few moments of rocking her gently, he pulled her back and wiped her cheeks with his fingers.    

“No tears,” he kissed her forehead. “There is no need.”

She looked up at him with her watery eyes. “But you still occupy White Crag?”

“I do. It is mine.”

Just as Pelinom was his.  She would not argue with him; she has promised him some time ago that she would not try to change his ambitious nature. But at least he was showing some mercy about it. Perhaps with time, he would show even more.  She could only hope.

With a final wipe of her eyes, she squared her shoulders. “Well,” she said with more pluck than she felt. “You told me that you have duties to attend to.  I will not keep you any longer.”

He looked at her, his long hair hanging down across one eye. “It is difficult for me to leave.”

“I will be here when you return.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “The last time I left you, your father and my knight conspired to take you away from me.”

There was truth to that statement. “But you found me,” she smiled. “I suspect that wherever I go, you will always find me.”

He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Nothing can stop me,” he murmured as he took her hand and kissed it sweetly.  With a wink, he quit the tent.

Kellington stood there, watching the tent flap as it waved in the wake of his departure.  It had been such a difficult path to get to where they were at this moment. Death, life, treachery, lies, hope and tears.  But here they were, together, planning a new life.  With as insane as the journey had been at times, she would not have had it any other way.  It was making them who they were, molding their relationship into something strong and unbreakable.  She felt more warmth and fulfillment than she had ever felt in her life.

Moving out of the tent, she stood at the entry, watching the activity about the camp and noticing a few soldiers lingering nearby.  They looked at her but did not acknowledge her; she suspected they were the men Jax had assigned to protect her.  With a casual sigh, she clasped her hands behind her back and began to walk the perimeter of the tent just for something to do. She had no way of knowing when he would return and, already, she missed him.

That was her last calm thought before rounding the side of the tent. Suddenly, a flaming arrow struck the side of the shelter and immediately the canvas roared into a wild flame.  With a shriek, she dashed away from the tent, watching an entire side of it erupt.  Then she heard it; yelling coming from the forest off to the west. Her startled golden brown orbs moved to the heavy cloak of trees, watching men emerge with weapons and horses and crossbows. 

Though she’d only seen one siege in her life, she suspected that she was about to witness another. She wondered fleetingly if she would survive.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The first volley of arrows from the surrounding trees took out several soldiers that were standing around Jax, listening to his plans for Alnwick’s siege. As Jax watched the men collapse with arrows in their chest or necks, his first thought was to reach Kellington.  He had no doubt of whom attacked from the trees and he knew their goal.  He cursed himself for being stupid enough not to anticipate an offensive; he had been distracted with Kellington and his distraction had worked in de Vesci’s favor. His warrior instincts took over and he broke into a dead run for the opposite side of his camp.

He was alternately torn with admiration for de Vesci’s bravery in attacking him and furious at the bold assault.  Tor and Atreus somehow found him in the chaos as their men raced for their weapons and defensive positions. With swiftly barked commands from Jax, Tor took command of the men to the north and Atreus took command of the men to the west.  It was clear there were two fronts as the trees to the north and west provided cover and an ample staging ground from where to launch their assault.

Jax’s helm and broadsword were back in his tent. As he dodged projectiles as he ran through the encampment, he could see smoke in the near distance.  Rounding a tree, he saw that it was his tent and his heart leapt into his throat.  Running faster than he had ever run in his life, he nearly crashed into Kellington as she barreled around the corner of the burning tent.  He grabbed her, pulling her into his protective, relieved embrace.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, being shielded by the man’s enormous, mailed body. “I am fine,” she gasped. “But who…?”

He did not wait to hear the end of her question. The tent was engulfed in flames but he left her long enough to risk ducking inside; his broadsword was near the door and he grabbed it. Most of his plate armor, however, was beneath burning tarp and there was no way to get at it.  But he had his sword and that was the most important piece of equipment he owned.  He was ready to do battle.

His arm went back around Kellington and he pulled her close.  “Now,” he said calmly. “We must get you to safety.”

“Safety?” she repeated, shrieking when a flaming arrow embedded itself in the ground a few feet from her. “There is no such place.  What is happening?”

Jax looked around his encampment, seeing that his men were forming two fronts as the incoming tide of soldiers moved in from the shielding forest.

“I would suspect that de Vesci and his men have decided to launch an offensive,” he said.

Kellington’s hands were over her head as she tried to protect herself.  But she had a view of what was going on. “Why would they do that?” she gasped. “Jax, I swore to them that you would not attack Alnwick.  It never occurred to me that they would attack you.”

Jax could see that the battle had moved from projectiles to hand-to-hand combat over to the west.   Already he could hear the screams of the injured and the sounds of metal upon metal. Things were escalating quickly. 

“Not to worry,” he said steadily. “I will make short work of this army.”

Kellington knew her father was somewhere in the mass of fighting, dying men.  She tried to spot him amidst the madness. “My father…,” she looked up at Jax. “I realize… I know that he is in the battle, somewhere.  I will not ask you not to kill him if he tries to kill you, but I will again ask you to be merciful.  He is my father, after all.  No matter what he has said, I know he is only trying to save me from you.”

Jax glanced down at her golden brown eyes. “If your father is foolish enough to come after me, then he will pay the price.  I will say no more.”

She stopped and he nearly pulled her over with his continued momentum.  But he came to a halt as well, meeting her intense gaze.

“Please, Jax,” she said quietly, firmly. “He is my father.  If you can help it, I would ask you not to kill him.”

He was about to firmly refute her again but he ended up crumbling like an idiot.  There was a battle going on around him and all he could do was think of Kellington, of the look in her eyes, and of the seriousness of her request.  He finally gave a sharp nod.

“I will do my best,” he said reluctantly. “But I can promise no more.”

“Then that is all I can ask for.”

He shook his head at her, reproachfully, but he gathered her up against him once more and very quickly proceeded towards the northwest section of the camp that did not seem to be under attack.  It was fairly quiet, a small enclave of horses surrounded by dense trees. But as soon as they reached the cleared area where the chargers were being saddled by several grooms, the thunder of cavalry suddenly washed upon them.  Like an unwelcome surge, several de Vesci men mounted on horseback plowed through the trees, ripping apart the place with their morning stars and weapons of destruction.

Kellington shrieked in fear but Jax did nothing more than try to position her behind him so that she was out of the line of fire.  They wanted him, after all. He raised his broadsword as three large chargers rode up on him.  The man astride the big black charger suddenly came to a halt, his helmed head gazing down at Jax and Kellington. As the horse danced excitedly, the man silently indicated for the other chargers to surround Jax and Kellington.  

Soon they were surrounded by men on horseback and Kellington clutched Jax’s torso from behind, terrified for him.  She knew they would not harm her, but she was panicked that they were about to kill Jax right before her eyes.  He was far enough away from the bulk of the battle that he was without reinforcements. It took her a moment, even to her naïve warring mind, to realize that the chargers had more than likely been waiting for him to come to his destrier. They had been lying in wait, and she and Jax had walked right into them.

Denedor’s voice suddenly emerged from the helm of the figure before them. “Take the lady,” he instructed to the men surrounding them.  “Treat her with great care.  I will take care of de Velt.”

Jax spun the broadsword in a very skilled, very deadly move. “If any man moves to take the lady, he will not survive this day.  She is mine.”

Kellington recognized Denedor’s voice and she poked her head out from behind Jax.  “Denedor?” she asked, frightened and shocked. “What are you doing? Where is my father?”

Denedor, to his credit, did not respond to her.  This was between him and de Velt.  He indicated to his men again.

“Take her.”

Kellington screamed, moving to stand in front of Jax and away from the men on horseback behind her.   Both de Velt and Denedor realized something very quickly; she had placed herself in a bad position between them.  Neither man could move against the other with her in the way.  Jax held on to her with one arm and wielded his sword with the other.

“Call your men off,” he ordered Denedor. “If this is between you and I, then let it come.  But the lady remains in my custody until our battle is decided.”

Denedor removed his broadsword from its sheath against his saddle.  He spun it menacingly in much the same way Jax had.

“I came for the lady, de Velt,” he said. “You do not dictate terms as to how I will accomplish that.”

Kellington suddenly spun to him, still pressed against Jax. “I cannot believe you would do this,” she hissed. “After I promised you that Jax would not attack Alwick, you betray that peace and attack Jax instead.  That is unworthy of a knight of your standing.”

Denedor’s helmed head turned to her. “My lady,” he said in his patient, deep voice. “You do not know what transpires in the hearts of men.  Understand that there are some things worth fighting and dying for by any means necessary.  This is one of those times.”

She was furious, frightened. “So that is what this is all about? Fighting for me?” she shook her head sadly. “You loved your wife, Denedor. Surely you understand what it is to love someone and want to be with them. Why can you not understand that it is Jax I wish to marry?”

Denedor swung the sword again. “This is not about you. It is about finally quashing once and for all an army that has been the scourge of four countries.  This is about doing a service for all of mankind by wiping de Velt from the face of the earth.  It is about regaining something which never belonged to him in the first place.  It is about seeking vengeance for all of those men de Velt put to the pole while they still lived.  This is about justice.”

It was a passionate speech.   Kellington looked up at the man as if he had lost his mind.  “It is for God to dispense justice.”

“Then consider me God’s right hand,” he swung the sword with deadly precision again and his charger reared nervously. “De Velt, I would suggest you remove the lady.  To be standing against you is not the best place to be.”

Kellington was sharp; she realized that the only thing preventing Denedor from crashing down on Jax was her presence.  She threw her arms around Jax’s torso.

“I am not moving,” she declared. “You will have to kill me first.”

Denedor flipped up his visor, his pale blue eyes blazing. He was looking at Jax. “Move her, de Velt. Men with swords are tricky things. I should not like for her to become injured if someone gets overzealous.”

Jax was in a bad position. He knew there were men behind him who could just as easily gore him in the back while his attention was on Kellington. His dual-colored eyes glimmered intently on Denedor.

“I repeat my original terms,” he said steadily. “The lady remains in my custody until this is decided between us. I suspect she will not remove herself otherwise and we will be in for a long day.”

Denedor’s jaw began to flex. His gaze moved between Jax and Kellington, his resistance evident. He was not about to let himself be ordered about by de Velt, no matter what the circumstances.  There was a measure of pride at stake. With a heavy sigh, he slammed his visor down and lifted his sword.

“Edward,” he boomed. “You and your men remove the lady and do not harm her if you can help it.”

The men on horseback behind Jax suddenly came alive, charging Jax and Kellington. Jax lifted his sword, ramming it into the chest of the knight nearest him and listening to Kellington’s screams.  It took him a moment to realize that her screams were not of horror because he had gored a man but because two other knights had hold of her.  He yanked his sword from the dying knight and arched it in the direction of the men who had Kellington.  In the blink of an eye, he sliced through the left arm of one of the men, completely separating it from his body. As the man screamed in pain and bolted off, Jax went for the second man with his hands on Kellington.  Before he could reach him, however, Denedor charged in between them and Jax found himself fending off a blow to his head.

Jax simultaneously deflected the blow and took hold of Denedor’s leg, yanking hard. Denedor lost his balance and tried to right himself, but his charger took a sharp turn to the left and he fell off completely. He hit so hard that his helm came off and bounced away. When he rolled to his knees, he looked up to see Jax bearing down on him.

Denedor raised his blade to prevent Jax’s first blow from cleaving him in half. He managed to shove the man away and gain his footing as the battle of his life commenced.

Kellington heard the blows of sword upon sword.  Still in the grip of a knight she did not know, she was terrified on many levels.  The knight had her by the arm even though he was still mounted. His tugging was causing her some pain and she fought to unpeel his fingers from her arm.  He was taking her further and further from Jax and Denedor and she did not want to go; for lack of a better action, the only thing she could think to do was to somehow startle the war horse so that the knight’s attention, and hopefully his grip, would be diverted from her. Balling her fist, she drove it into the flanks of the big brown horse and the animal started.

It was enough of a movement to cause the knight to loosen his grip.  When Kellington twisted violently, he lost it completely. Like a rabbit freed from a snare, she was giddy with panic as she ran away, not really sure where she was going until she caught sight of Jax and Denedor several feet away. Behind her, she could hear the knight cursing as he regained control of his animal and made his way back to her.  Kellington turned to the sound of the oncoming hooves, knowing he would catch her again if she didn’t do something.  She had to help herself.

A few feet away on the ground lay the knight that Jax had impaled through the chest; she ran to the man, fell to her knees, and removed his broadsword.   But the sword proved too heavy to manage so she dropped it, going for the dirk embedded in the man’s belt.  Removing it, she wielded it in front of her as the knight rode upon her.

“Get away from me,” she hissed, holding the blade up. “Leave me alone or I’ll kill you, I swear it.”

The knight came to a halt, holding up his hand in surrender.  But Kellington did not trust him and kept the dirk raised.   Behind her, she could hear Jax and Denedor’s sword fight as it continued.  She glanced over her shoulder, watching as Jax overwhelmed Denedor with his sheer power.  For a moment, she was entranced; she had never seen a real swordfight and watching Jax was like watching a carefully choreographed dance. Everything was smooth, fluid, one movement flowing into the next, each position of the blade carefully planned.  It was an amazing sight.  But as she watched, she didn’t realize the knight on horseback had dismounted and was stalking her.   Startled when he grabbed her, she swung the blade around and accidentally plunged it into the man’s belly.