The Centurion

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “I know,” Alyx said. “I’m sure you think me foolish, but I don’t care. Torston may have hidden things from me, but it does not matter. I have faith in the man.”

  “Do ye?” he asked, his gaze moving back and forth between Alyx and Torston. “Clearly, he’s willing tae fight for ye. He was unafraid tae face death if it meant a chance of having ye returned tae him. I have tae admit he has strong feelings for ye, as well.”

  Alyx looked up at Torston, her eyes glimmering with warmth, before returning her gaze to Douglas.

  “You are a good man, Douglas Kerr,” she said. “You deserve a fine wife and a mother for your son. But that will not be me. I am truly sorry.”

  “No sorrier than I am, lass,” Douglas said. “’Tis not the first time I’ve lost tae this Sassenach bastard.”

  He’d said it somewhat lightly and Torston wasn’t offended. In fact, he was encouraged. “Then you surrender? You’ll cease your pursuit of Alyx?”

  Douglas shrugged. “No one wanted me tae keep her,” he said. “My ma, my men, and least of all, Alyx. I was the only one who wanted her at Luckenburn, but I canna fight everyone.” He paused. “My ma told me that I only wanted Alyx because I was missing my Mairi, and I suppose she was right. ’Tis a dark and horrible thing tae lose the women ye love, Torston, so by keeping Alyx from ye, I suppose that I was resigning ye tae the same fate. Do I surrender? Never. But I am not a fool. I see this can come to no good if I continue. I will relinquish my suit.”

  Alyx sighed heavily with relief, looking up to Torston to see that he was smiling faintly at Douglas.

  “That is a difficult think to relinquish,” he said. “You and I are much alike, Douglas. I understand this is not easy for you, but it is the right thing to do and I thank you for it. You were happy with Mairi, were you not?”

  “I was.”

  “It is my turn to be happy with Alyx.”

  Douglas’ manner conveyed his resignation in the matter. Truly, with everyone against him, as he’d said, there was nothing left to fight for.

  “I suppose,” he said. “Make sure she’s happy, also.”

  Torston could see a husbandly admonition in those words. “I swear that I will.” He paused a moment, his gaze lingering on Douglas. “If you’re truly looking for a wife, I think I may have one in mind.”

  “Who?” Alyx hissed at him.

  “Lilia,” he muttered to her. “Nell. She wants a husband and Kerr wants a wife. I’ll explain later.”

  Alyx looked perplexed as Torston returned his focus to Douglas. “What about it, Douglas?” he asked. “Can I introduce you to a woman who would make you a fine, obedient wife?”

  Douglas was intrigued in spite of himself. “Is she pretty?”

  “Some would say so, aye,” Torston said. But the sounds of The Lyceum drum were drawing closer and his focus shifted. “But before I can introduce you to her, we must discuss the approach of the army before it gets here. I think I can prevent a siege, but I need your cooperation.”

  Douglas could hear the drum, too. “Cooperation?” he spat. “My men are preparing for war, lad.”

  Torston knew that. They were mobilizing when he’d fled Luckenburn. “But it doesn’t have to be war,” Torston insisted. “When you sat in the meeting with Lord Harringham, you called him a madman. Do you recall?”

  “I do. And ye almost took my head off for it.”

  Torston held up a hand, begging patience. “Lord Harringham’s mind is not what it used to be,” he said. “He believes himself to be a Roman Caesar and as long as we all go along with it, he is peaceful. He’s not a violent man, but as of late, he has been unpredictable and the advance of the army is one example. But I think I can mollify him with your cooperation. Are you willing to try?”

  “And if I dunna?”

  Torston sighed faintly. “He can muster a bigger army than you can,” he said. “Up until now, between The Lyceum and Makendon, we’ve simply been fending your men off and nothing more. You know this, Douglas. You’ve had the run of us because Harringham was afraid to fight back, afraid of losing men. But he is no longer afraid and he is allied with some of the biggest houses in the north. If he requests help, they will give it to him. Am I making myself clear?”

  Douglas didn’t reply right away, but Alyx understood Torston clearly and she wasn’t even a soldier. She looked at Douglas.

  “Please listen to him, Douglas,” she begged. “Luckenburn is a beautiful place. You do not want to see it destroyed. I would be heartbroken if anything happened to Edna or Michael. Please?”

  She was invoking his son’s name, a powerful force. Douglas wasn’t happy, but he realized enough that he had to have a little faith in a Sassenach he had been fighting against for years. Torston de Royans was an excellent commander and knight, and Douglas had never known the man to be anything other than forthright in battle. Therefore, he was willing to trust him because the alternative was grim.

  He knew as well as they did that The Lyceum and her allies could wipe them out.

  “Very well,” he said. “What is it ye want?”

  Torston could see his reluctance, his pride. But at a time like this, pride could be detrimental.

  Douglas was going to have to swallow it if he wanted to live.

  “Lord Harringham has modeled The Lyceum after great Roman fortresses,” he said. “Everything about Harringham’s rule is modeled on Rome. Romans were conquerors, so I suspect you may have to play the part of the conquered.”

  Douglas’ face screwed up. “What madness is this?”

  Torston told him.

  “I think I see Torston!”

  The shout came from Jess. Lance ended up standing up in his saddle, straining to catch a glimpse of a horse and rider in the distance, illuminated by the full moon.

  “There are two riders,” he said after a moment. “One behind the other. See them?”

  That was enough for Jess to call a halt to the army even though Lionel hadn’t ordered it. About a mile out of The Lyceum, he’d grown weary of riding the big, white stallion and had reverted to his litter, carried by six burly soldiers. Even now, Lionel was sleeping peacefully as his army moved slowly and to the drumbeat.

  It was all quite ridiculous.

  Both Lance and Jess were watching the incoming riders, but it was difficult to make out any features until they were quite close. Lance recognized Torston and Alyx, seated behind him on the saddle, but on the second horse, he recognized Douglas Kerr.

  The situation turned serious.

  “Go wake up Great Caesar,” he growled to Jess.

  As Jess thundered back through the ranks, Lance rode out to meet Torston.

  “Torston!” he greeted as their horses came near. “You found Lady Alyx!”

  Torston reined his excited horse to a halt and Douglas came in behind him. “I did,” he said. “I’ve brought Kerr with me. Hold the army here while we ride back to The Lyceum. We wish to speak to Great Caesar.”

  Lance was eyeing Douglas beneath the ghostly moonglow. “Great Caesar is with us, Torston,” he said quietly. “He chose to ride with the army.”

  Torston looked at him in surprise. “He is with the army?” he repeated. “Where is he?”

  Lance pointed back in the ranks. “On his litter.”

  Torston rolled his eyes. “Christ,” he muttered. “He made the army walk at a snail’s crawl so he could be brought in his litter?”

  Lance simply lifted his shoulders and that was enough of an answer for Torston. Dismounting, he motioned to Douglas to dismount, also. When Alyx tried to follow, he held her on the horse.

  “Stay there, Pigeon,” he said quietly. “You do not belong in a peace negotiation.”

  Pigeon. He’d always called her that and it was a name like none other that made her feel warm and cared for. These days, it meant even more to her, knowing there was genuine affection behind it. Obediently, she took the reins and kept her seat on Torston’s saddle. Meanwhile, Douglas came to stand next to Tor
ston, looking grossly unhappy.

  “Come on, Sassenach,” he muttered. “Let’s get this over with before I change my mind.”

  Torston didn’t want that to happen. It would ruin everything and, at this moment, Douglas’ compliance was crucial. Quickly, he began to walk back through the ranks, taking Douglas with him, until they came to Lionel. His litter had been set upon the ground and Jess had awoken the man. But the moment Lionel saw Douglas, he demanded the litter be lifted again.

  “Up!” he commanded. “I do not meet my enemy on the ground!”

  Dutifully, the litter bearers heaved the thing up, holding it steady as Torston, Douglas, and Lance approached.

  “Hail, Great Caesar,” Torston said. “I bring you good news.”

  Lionel was in his customary white linen robes, but he was also covered up with furs against the night chill. He eyed Torston and Douglas before speaking.

  “Where have you been, Centurion?” he asked. “This battle march should have been yours to command, but instead, you were missing.”

  Torston wasn’t going to tell him the truth. At the point, it was all about placating the man and sending him back to The Lyceum. Therefore, Torston did what he had to do.

  He catered to a madman.

  “As Mark Antony was a great general and ambassador for Julius Caesar, so am I a great general and ambassador for you,” he said. “Once, the Romans conquered the north of England. We still see their forts and walls. They tried to conquer the Picts, but they could not do it. But you, Great Caesar – you shall be the first Roman to conquer the Picts. On behalf of Scotland, I bring you Douglas Kerr.”

  Lionel sat up in his litter, quite interested in what Torston was saying, as Douglas stepped forward. Torston even gave him a shove, just to show Lionel that Douglas was submissive, but behind his back, Douglas balled a fist at Torston.

  He wasn’t enjoying this in the least.

  “Great Caesar,” Douglas said, sounding as if he didn’t mean a word of it. “I present ye with my sword of surrender. Scotland is yers.”

  With the hand that wasn’t balled at Torston, he extended a short sword, one of many short swords in Luckenburn’s armory. It didn’t mean a thing to Douglas, but to Lionel, it meant a great deal. His eyes widened as he reached out, accepting the sword from what was, by all accounts, a defeated Scots.

  “Your sword,” Lionel looked at the weapon in awe. “A great weapon. I shall hold it with the deepest respect.”

  Douglas stood there until Torston elbowed him. Prompted, Douglas continued. “Luckenburn speaks on behalf of all of Scotland, Great Caesar,” he said. “We shall pay ye tribute every year and we’ll cease the raids on yer herds.”

  “What is your tribute?”

  “Fifty head of sheep,” Douglas said.

  “I accept. You are now part of my empire.”

  Douglas looked at Torston to answer that one because his answer wasn’t going to be pleasing. He didn’t like surrendering the whole of Scotland to a lunatic, but as Torston explained, it was only to placate the man. The illusion of conquering the Scots would be enough to satisfy him and nothing more. Seeing the look on Douglas’ face, as the man had already been pushed as far as he would go, Torston stepped forward.

  “The most valuable part of your empire, Great Caesar,” he said. “Scotland may live autonomously but they will pay you tribute out of respect. There is no longer any need to attack Luckenburn Tower now. As you can see, the mere threat of The Lyceum has caused Douglas Kerr, and all of Scotland, to admit your greatness.”

  It was a sly way of not admitting Douglas’ surrender, which the proud Scotsman appreciated. All of this was for show and nothing more, but it had to be done. Torston, Douglas, and Lance all looked to Lionel to see what his reaction was.

  It wasn’t long in coming.

  “Invicta,” Lionel muttered with the greatest satisfaction. “The unconquered Lyceum shall ever be victorious in the face of her enemies. Kerr, I accept your sword and your tribute. Scotland may live in peace, by Caesar’s good graces. But cross me and I shall destroy you.”

  “Aye, Great Caesar.”

  With that, Lionel began issuing orders to his knights and to his litter bearers, turning the entire army back for home. He had what he’d come for. Torston let Lance and Jess begin the retreat, watching Lionel’s litter turn around, slowly, and begin heading for home.

  He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “And with that, there is no longer a threat to Luckenburn Tower,” Torston said, turning to look at Douglas. “I know that was difficult for you to stomach, but you did well. It was better than the alternative.”

  Douglas didn’t appear entirely convinced. “So I have a madman for an overlord now?”

  “It is better than being his enemy.”

  Torston had a point. Douglas looked at him, shaking his head as if all of this was sheer madness. Then, he laughed.

  “What I willna do for a man who is my kin,” he said. “I wish ye’d never told me that we’re related. I feel like a traitor tae my own people now.”

  Torston grinned. “How do you think I feel?”

  “Privileged!”

  “You would be wrong. But I am looking forward to this alliance, nonetheless. No more sheep raids.”

  “I’ve already got more of yer sheep than I know what tae do with.”

  “How about giving some of them back?”

  “I will – when I pay tribute tae Caesar.”

  Torston started to laugh; he couldn’t help it. Great Caesar may have conquered the Scots, but they were going to have the last laugh when their tribute turned out to be the stolen English sheep.

  It was a hilarious thought.

  Together, Torston and Douglas began to head back to the horses, both of them looking up to see Alyx perched upon Torston’s horse in the moonlight. Torston could see Alyx sitting there, her hair blowing in the night breeze. He was thinking of how very fortunate he was. Now, they could finally be married.

  He could hardly believe it.

  “Ye treat her well, de Royans,” Douglas muttered, his gaze on Alyx. “The lass thinks the world of ye.”

  “As I think the world of her,” Torston said. Then, he sighed heavily. “And now that our immediate business has concluded, it will be my unhappy duty to tell Alyx of her father’s passing.”

  Douglas looked at him in surprise. “Laird Winslow is dead?”

  Torston nodded faintly. “Died in his sleep the very same morning you captured her. She doesn’t know yet.”

  They were almost to the horses when Douglas came to a halt, facing Torston. “Be honest with me,” he said. “Did de Ameland consider my offer for his daughter?”

  Torston shrugged. “He told me he didn’t want to see her married to you,” he said. “But, then again, what father would?”

  He meant it as a good-natured insult and Douglas’ eyebrows lifted. “Is that how ye treat me after I dinna fight ye for the lass?”

  Torston grinned. “We’re kin now,” he said. “I can treat you however I want. But know this; I will always be fair and I will always be truthful. And if you ever need me, send word. I shall come and bring my army if I have to.”

  Douglas’ mouth twitched with a smile. “I dunna need yer Sassenach army,” he said. “But the next time ye come, bring the lass ye had in mind for me. I want tae see her.”

  Torston nodded. “I will.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Nell.”

  That seemed to please Douglas. One woman lost, but another was on the horizon.

  With that, the men parted ways. Douglas headed back to Luckenburn Tower while Torston vaulted onto his mount, pulling Alyx tightly against him as he gathered the reins and headed toward the departing Lyceum army.

  “The army is leaving,” Alyx noted. “Did your plan work, then?”

  “Like a charm,” Torston said. “Douglas pretended to surrender all of Scotland and Harringham accepted.”

  Alyx snuggled back agains
t him. “Praise God,” she murmured. “I am sure my father will be pleased.”

  Torston’s good mood faded. Pulling Alyx close, he kissed her on the side of her head. “Sweetheart… we need to speak on your father.”

  “What about him?”

  The time had come to tell her the truth and Torston could delay no longer. He was as gentle as he could be. Since he had been the last one to speak with Winslow, he was able to give Alyx a detailed accounting of the moments leading to her father’s death. His passing was peaceful, painless, and quiet, he told her. He did not suffer.

  But that did not stop the tears of grief from Alyx at the loss of her beloved father. The ride back to The Lyceum was silent for the most part after that, with Alyx softly weeping and Torston holding her close, telling her how much he loved her and that he promised to take care of her, and Dyl, for the rest of his life. They would want for nothing and that’s the way Winslow would have wanted it.

  As Alyx struggled to come to grips with the death of her father, she found herself looking up at the smattering of stars across the sky, wondering if Winslow was up there, somewhere, finally reunited with her mother. No longer in pain, no longer with a bad heart, but happy and contented, knowing that his children would be well tended. That was all he’d really ever wanted.

  Torston had given him that last gift.

  Certainly, Alyx felt grief, but it was mingled with hope for the future. A future wide-open for her and Torston, the man she’d pined over for half of her life, now meant to be hers.

  The Centurion, and his lady, would finally realize their dreams.

  EPILOGUE

  The Lyceum

  Year of Our Lord 1243

  “He wants to see you, Torston,” a small, wiry physic spoke softly. He was the same physic used by those at The Lyceum for years. “He wants to see what he calls his family. Who would that be?”

  Torston looked at Alyx, at Dyl sitting next to her, playing with Ryston and a two-year-old girl who looked very much like Alyx. They had a small wooden donkey and cart between them, rolling it around on the floor of Lionel’s solar. Torston gestured to the group behind him.