Medieval Master Warlords (32 page)

Fear began to spread through the women and a few of them turned to look at Allaston, although no one singled her out. Still, heads were moving about, including Allaston’s. She was terrified that this man, a man who had shown no fear in burning a house of God, had asked for her.
You have a de Velt
. Dear God, how would he even know that? More importantly,
why
did he want her? She struggled not to let fear consume her as she watched the exchange between the warrior and the prioress with a good deal of dread. It was an effort not to shrink back into the shadows because she knew that any movement would single her out. It was imperative she remain still and unnoticed.

The Mother Prioress, however, held firm and did not reveal Allaston’s presence. She might have been a proud woman who ridiculed the weak, but she was also inordinately strong. She wasn’t about to permit this warrior, as bold and deadly as he seemed, to gain the upper hand. She didn’t like to be told what to do.

“Rubbish,” she snorted. “You shalt not have her and since thou hast burned our home, thou will permit us to leave and seek shelter elsewhere.”

The helmed head didn’t react at first. There was a long and tense pause, one filled with mounting terror as far as the women were concerned. Then, the warrior shifted on his enormous legs and the helmed head leaned forward as if to better peer at the stubborn old woman.

“Do you mean to actually
deny
me?” he asked, a hint of incredulousness in his tone.

The old prioress nodded firmly. “Thou shalt not have what thou hast come for,” she said firmly. “I shalt not give thee any woman in my charge. Be gone with thee.”

The helmed head didn’t hesitate. One of his massive hands shot out and grabbed the prioress around the neck as the women behind her let up a collective scream. As the women wept and shrieked, the warrior pulled the old woman very close to his helm.

“If you do not give her to me, then I will kill you,” he hissed. “When you are dead, I will move to the next woman and demand she give me the de Velt. If that woman denies me, then I will kill her and move to the next one until I am either given the de Velt woman or every one of your nuns is dead. Is this in any way unclear?”

The old prioress was struggling for air. Her vision was dimming but there was fight left in her. She would not be bullied even if it cost her everything. She was far too stubborn to submit and show fear.

“Then kill me,” she rasped. “I will not give thee the woman.”

The knight squeezed and an audible snap could be heard as he broke the prioress’ neck. The nuns began to howl, tightening up their ranks in a fearful huddle as a few knights joined their leader and swarmed upon the nuns, grabbing women and pulling the group apart. It was clear that they intended to separate the women, perhaps to intimidate them in order to gain their wants. Surely one of them would break and tell them what they wished to know.

Allaston stood near the wall with Annie, watching the knights harass the weeping nuns. She was horrified that the leader had killed the Mother Prioress. It has been so quick that they had scarcely believed what he had done until the prioress was lying on the ground in a heap. Allaston had never seen anything so awful in her life.

But the sight of the woman’s body jolted Allaston. She knew that she could not let these women protect her any longer. It would only get all of them killed. True, she was fearful for her own life but she was not so cowardly that she would let others die protecting her. But she simply couldn’t turn herself over, nay. As stubborn and proud as the prioress had been, Allaston was equally stubborn. Sometimes she was foolish, too. She hoped this would not be one of those times. She had to help everyone, including herself.
She had to fight!

“Stop!” she roared, pushing between the women that were standing in front of her. “Stop this instant! I am the de Velt!”

The knights, five of them including the one who had killed the prioress, came to a halt in the midst of their assaults. Seeing she had their attention made Allaston second-guess her bravery, but there was no turning back. She faced them with as much courage as she could muster.

“I am Lady Allaston de Velt,” she said, her voice trembling. “What do you wish of me?”

The knight who had killed the prioress seemed to be looking at her. It was hard to tell with his visor down, but she was certain he was fixed on her. Before he could move, however, Annie, who had been standing next to Allaston, piped up.

“
I
am Lady Allaston de Velt,” she said, breathing heavily and coughing. “I am the one you want.”

Shocked, Allaston looked at her to shush the woman but suddenly, other women were shouting out that they were Allaston, too. Soon, the entire group was demanding that they were Lady Allaston de Velt and there was no stopping the onslaught. Shouts and cries filled the smoky night air.

Allaston was terrified of what the knights would do to them now that it was clear the women were intent on protecting her. She could see necks being broken by big, gloved hands and it filled her heart with fear for her loyal friends. Panic-stricken, she lifted her hands and began to cry out.

“Nay!” she called. “Nay, you will not do this! Please, cease! Do you not see that they will kill all of us? They will think us to be liars!”

Some women listened to her, some didn’t. The ones who seemed most intent on disobeying her were the older nuns, crying out that they were, in fact, the de Velt that the knight was looking for. Allaston had never been so touched by anything in her life, all of these women prepared to sacrifice themselves for her, and the humbling experience drove her to tears. She simply couldn’t let them do it. Frantically, she began waving her hands around.

“
Stop
!” she cried, moving away from the group as she did so. “Please stop! I am not afraid, do you hear? I am not afraid of him!”

She nearly screamed the last part and most of the nuns quieted down. Terrified, emotional, Allaston turned to the massive knight with the intimidating helm.

“I swear that I am Lady Allaston de Velt,” she insisted, hear heart pounding and her breathing coming in frightened gasps. “These women are simply trying to protect me. Please… tell me what you wish of me, but do not harm them. I beg you.”

The knight still hadn’t said a word. His helm was turned in her direction and suddenly, he was moving towards her. He closed the gap rather swiftly, reaching out to grab her harshly by the arm. Allaston gasped in pain as the knight flipped up his visor, his shockingly bright blue eyes boring into her.

“You had better be the de Velt I seek or this situation will not go well for you,” he hissed. “Convince me that you are who you say you are or I will kill everyone here, including you. Tell me now!”

He was growling and snarling, and Allaston was so frightened that she felt faint. But she took a deep breath, struggling to compose herself, as she looked into eyes that were the color of cornflowers. She’d never seen such a bright shade of blue. Her mind was so much mush, overwhelmed with fear, but she fought to clear it. She had to.

“My… my father is Ajax de Velt,” she said, her voice quaking. “My mother is Lady Kellington. I have three brothers and two sisters, and we live at Pelinom Castle in Northumberland.”

The knight’s grip tightened, nearly breaking her arm. “Name your siblings,” he growled. “Quickly!”

She jolted because he shook her to emphasize the speed at which he expected her to deliver the answer. “My eldest brother is Coleby,” she said, verging on tears but fighting against them with every breath. “I have two more brothers, Julian and Cassian. My sisters are Effington and Addington. They are younger than I am.”

The knight’s eyes were blazing, but that blaze was as cold as ice. It was a deadly glare, something Allaston had never seen before, but she began to suspect that she must have given him the right answer because his grip hadn’t tightened. Nor had he otherwise displayed displeasure. In fact, his expression seemed to ease. His features, as much as she could see them through the helm opening, had relaxed. After several anxious moments, the eyes flickered in a calculating gesture.

“How old is your father now?” he asked.

Allaston swallowed hard. “I… I am not exactly sure,” she said. “I believe he has seen fifty-eight or fifty-nine years.”

“Does he still go to war?”

She shook her head unsteadily. “Nay,” she replied. “He has not gone to war since I have been alive. I have never known my father to fight.”

That seemed to surprise the knight, for his eyes flickered and she thought she saw confusion in the mysterious depths. There was puzzlement at the very least.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“I have seen nineteen years.”

The knight’s sense of confusion seemed to increase. “Your father has not gone to war in nineteen years?” he asked as if astounded by the mere thought. “But he is a warlord. How is that possible?”

Allaston wasn’t sure what all of these questions were about, but as long as she continued answering him, the knight seemed to remain calm. She was determined to keep him calm.

“I do not know,” she said. “He… he did do some warring before I was born. I know because my mother told me, but I have never known the man to fight, even when his liege called for aid. My father sent his men but he did not go.”

“Who is his liege?”

“Yves de Vesci, Earl of Northumberland.”

The knight just stared at her. His grip seemed to lessen as he pondered her words, but the confusion in his expression was soon replaced by suspicion.

“Your father is the most wicked warlord ever to walk the earth,” he finally said. “His atrocities are legend. Surely you know this.”

Allaston was perplexed by the path of the conversation but she was afraid to say the wrong thing. His grip on her arm had lessened, that was true, but she was positive it would grow brutal again the moment she said something he didn’t like. She could see it in his eyes, an edginess that bordered on madness.

“I have heard of my father’s past,” she said honestly. “My mother has told us… things. But he has not done that in over twenty years.”

The knight just stared at her. It was apparent that the entire conversation with her had him seriously mystified. Allaston gazed back at him, waiting for the next barrage of questions and fearful that she would say something to displease him. He’d already proven he would kill with the slightest provocation. She didn’t want to become his next victim. After several long seconds of staring at her, of perhaps mulling over his next move, his grip on her tightened once again and he dragged her over to one of the knights standing nearby. He thrust her at the man.

“Take her,” he ordered. “No harm will come to her. Is that clear?”

The knight reached out and grabbed Allaston by the arm. “Aye, my lord.”

He began to walk away with her in his grip but Allaston dug her heels in. “Wait,” she said anxiously, craning her neck over her shoulder to look at the big knight. “Where are you taking me?”

The knight with the bright blue eyes didn’t answer. He simply flicked his hand at the knight holding Allaston and the man yanked on her, pulling her away and back towards the bulk of the army. The knight with the bright blue eyes watched her go, watching her as she disappeared into the darkness and contemplating his next move. It wasn’t long in coming. He crooked a finger and motioned to the nearest knight.

“Find me one woman and one woman only,” he said. “Make sure she is sane and speaks clearly. I have a message for her to deliver.”

The knight with the big scar across his lip nodded. “Aye, my lord,” he said. “And the others?”

The big knight’s gaze moved to the priory behind them, now burning solidly. Heavy, dense smoke spit into the night sky and the fire was spreading. Soon, it would hit the dormitory where the women had come from. He didn’t want to leave an entire herd of witnesses, witnesses who could come back to haunt him in more ways than he could comprehend. He was a man who tended to eliminate anything, or anyone, who could contest or oppose him. He was a man who had learned a long time ago the value of a human life; there was none.

“Take them back into the church and lock them in,” he said, his voice low. “Make sure the doors are secured so they cannot get out. The fire will do the rest.”

The knight with the scar nodded smartly and went on his way, muttering the orders to the other knights and a few soldiers standing nearby and, together, the group of them began herding the women back towards the burning priory. The women, realizing that they were being corralled to their doom, began to wail and plead for their lives. Before the big knight turned back for his charger, he saw a couple of his soldiers grab two or three of the women and pull them away from the pack. As he mounted his horse, he could hear the screams of those women being raped.

It made no impression on him. Nothing in life ever did. He had a mission and he had since he’d been five years of age. Nothing was going to stop him in his quest to see his mission completed and now he had what he had come for. After years of planning, of suffering, and of hard work, his scheme was about to come to fruition as he’d hoped. He finally had a de Velt.

Now, he would set the trap.