He wanted Juliandra.
He’d ridden to The Neath, that beautiful manse with the neat gardens and rich furnishings. He’d ridden up to the gates and pounded on them, demanding entry, but the servants wouldn’t open them. They were frightened of him and rightfully so.
Therefore, he sat outside of the gates, yelling and making demands. Not even Adan could get him to come away and go home, so Aeron’s tantrum went on through the night, filling the cold, moist air with his grief and fury. At some point, it deteriorated into weeping and he called Juliandra names that were better suited for his worst enemy. At that point, however, she was his worst enemy.
She had ruined everything for him.
Her and that bastard English knight.
A few hours before dawn, the weeping and raging faded away as Aeron lay down in the dirt in front of the locked gate and fell into a fitful sleep. Adan was still nearby, still watching everything that was going on, as his cousin slowly descended into madness because of rejection he had never truly expected.
His expectations had come to a brutal end.
Certainly, the reality that he would never have Juliandra had always been in the back of Aeron’s mind. At least, it should have been. Aeron had known that Gethin wanted nothing to do with him. Aeron had proposed marriage several times over the years, but Gethin had repeatedly denied him. At first, the denials had been polite, but the more Aeron persisted, the less polite the denials became.
But that did not discourage Aeron.
Somehow, in his mind, the denials were a challenge. No man had ever truly denied him his wants and he was convinced that Gethin would not be the first one. He knew he could break the man down, or at least he thought he could. Aeron’s family had been powerful warlords for a century or more, so Aeron was living under the false illusion that he had some power when it came to selecting his bride.
As it turned out, he had no power at all.
It had never been so apparent as it had been at the gates of Wybren Castle.
Aeron wasn’t a man accustomed to failure and therefore had no way to truly control his rage. After falling asleep in the dirt in front of the iron gates of The Neath, he was awoken at dawn by two old servants, including Megsy, who had brought him warmed wine and a blanket. Evidently, his plight had moved them into showing some measure of humanity, and they had brought him a few things for his comfort. But all Aeron saw were the open gates, and he pushed through the servants and rushed straight into the house.
After that, they could not get him out.
Without Gethin or Juliandra in residence, Aeron had the run of the place, and run he did. He stormed around the house, knocking valuable things from their shelves and shouting of his hatred for both Gethin and Juliandra. At one point, he managed to get hold of a fire poker and he began smashing things, creating a mess and destroying the things that Juliandra loved. It was his way of punishing her, but more than that, it was an outlet for his particular brand of madness.
There were a few of Gethin’s hired men at the house, but Megsy prevented them from fighting with Aeron and throwing him out, mostly because that would probably create a bigger problem than they already had. Megsy, who was in charge with Gethin and Juliandra away, hoped that Aeron would simply wear himself out and go home under his own power. He was volatile, and unstable, and having the guards throw him out would have only added fuel to that fire.
Megsy was hoping he would simply leave on his own.
But in the midst of Aeron’s rage, he began speaking of things Megsy didn’t know. Between the screaming and the smashing, she discovered that Juliandra was remaining at Wybren of her own accord. Aeron said something about her being betrothed to the English overlord, but Megsy couldn’t seriously believe that. She thought, perhaps, that it was Aeron’s madness speaking and nothing more.
Never did she imagine it to be true.
As the day continued, Aeron showed no signs of leaving. After he had smashed a significant amount of valuables and possessions, he ended up in the hall demanding food and drink, which was brought to him by nervous servants. The drink had been severely watered down because the last thing they wanted was a drunk madman on their hands, so Aeron drank watered wine that had been heavily mulled so he could not taste just how much it had been watered. He ate their bread, ate their cheese and fruit, and drank copious amounts other watered wine, all the while continuing to curse Juliandra.
That went on well into the afternoon.
Still Aeron showed no desire to leave. It seemed that he wanted to be in Juliandra’s home, cursing her and weeping over a lost betrothal. He wanted to be where she was born, where she ate and slept, even though she wasn’t there herself. He wanted to be close to her because he could no longer physically control her.
He’d lost her to a bloody Saesneg.
“This will not stand, you know,” he said to several nervous servants hovering in the hall. “I have been wronged and I shall have my satisfaction.”
Megsy was one of those standing in the hall. “Then you must wait until Lord Gethin returns home,” she said steadily. “We can do nothing for you.”
Aeron had his feet on the feasting table. He’d already thrown bread crusts and apple cores onto the floor, but he kicked over the watered wine as Megsy spoke.
“Gethin is a captive of the Saesneg,” he snarled. “He will never be released and Juliandra has become the Saesneg’s whore. Therefore, this house belongs to me now!”
Megsy’s hopes that Aeron would grow tired and leave were fading. “You cannot stay,” she said. “This is not your home.”
Aeron picked up an apple and threw it at her, barely missing her head. “Shut your mouth, you crippled wench,” he said. “No one is here to stop me!”
“I am here to stop you.”
The voice came from the entry to the hall. Shocked, Aeron whirled around to see Juliandra standing there.
And she did not look pleased.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Juliandra stood in the doorway between the entry hall and the great hall with a big, iron rod in her hand. Upon closer inspection, it was a heavy pike from Gethin’s armory, which was next to the front door. Having spent quite some time out in the garden, lamenting the situation she found herself in, Juliandra finally summoned the energy to enter the house and immediately heard the voices in the hall. She recognized one of them without question.
Aeron.
She was in no mood for whatever he was perpetrating here.
In fact, she wanted to kill him.
Exhausted and on-edge, she could see Aeron rising out of his seat at the big feasting table that filled up much of The Neath’s hall. A glance around the chamber also showed her that there were many broken and smashed things, and she had no doubt that Aeron was responsible. The fearful look on Megsy’s face told her that, as well.
In that instant, she knew exactly what had happened.
Humiliated from his run-in with Kevin at Wybren, Aeron had come straight to The Neath to take his frustrations out on her house and her servants.
A snarl flickered on her lips.
“What are you doing here, Aeron?” she asked in a decidedly unfriendly tone. “You are not welcome in my home.”
But Aeron wasn’t hearing the tone or the words. He was only seeing Juliandra, and nothing more, and his features lit up with joy.
“You have come back,” he said. “I knew you would. I knew the Saesneg bastards were keeping you from me and telling you to say such horrible things.”
Juliandra was unable to stomach his foolery. In fact, she wasn’t able to stomach anything at the moment. There was nothing left inside of her; she was a gutless shell, her insides having been ripped out by Kevin’s deception and her father’s death.
She honestly didn’t know which one was worse.
Her father was dead and the pain she felt was immeasurable. But Kevin’s deceit was agonizing in an entirely different way – his words were rolling around in her head until she could hear
or think of nothing else. He’d deliberately lied to her about her father, who had died on the very day he’d refused to pay the toll. Kevin could have told her that, but he didn’t because he wanted to strike a bargain with her – information on the locals in exchange for her father.
Without, of course, mentioning that her father was only a corpse.
She’d entered into the bargain in good faith. But from the beginning, Kevin hadn’t been truthful with her. Even until this very day, when she’d asked him to send word to her father about their marriage, he had continued the deception because he had agreed to do it. The lie went on, even after he’d married her and they’d shared a night together that surely angels only dreamed of.
Perhaps it was that betrayal that hurt most of all. She loved him and although he told her that he loved her, too, he really didn’t. Perhaps he’d only told her that out of desperation because, clearly, he had betrayed that love.
He had betrayed her.
Therefore, she was in no mood to deal with Aeron. The man was taking his very life in his hands being at The Neath after the idiocy he’d displayed at Wybren. As he looked at her with hope and glee, she took the heavy pike in both hands and raised it.
“Get out of here,” she growled. “I thought I made it very clear that I did not want to see you again.”
Aeron still wasn’t listening. He came away from the table, heading in her direction.
“You needn’t continue the farce,” he said. “You do not mean those words. I forgive you, Juliandra.”
He came too close and she swung at him with the pike, hitting him broadside and sending him toppling. As he stumbled, she went after him, hitting him again and again with the pole until he scampered under the table to avoid being hit again.
“I told you to go away and leave me alone!” Juliandra screamed. “You are a stupid, hateful man!”
Aeron was on the defensive, trying very hard not to get brained by Juliandra’s swinging pole.
“Cease, you foolish wench!” he cried. “Put that pike away before you kill me!”
Juliandra wasn’t listening. In fact, her violence was gaining steam. She began to weep, slamming the pike at the table, the chairs, and anything else she could aim for. Pieces of wood began to fly as she beat down the furniture in her attempt to get to Aeron under the table.
“I told you to leave me alone,” she cried. “I told you to go away, and you would not listen. What makes you want a woman who hates you, Aeron? Would anything ever be pleasant between us? Would we ever know affection? Of course we would not and our entire life would be fighting and hatred. There is nothing about you that I want or like, and you will leave my home and never come back. Do you understand me? Get out!”
She punctuated the last two words by slamming the pike so hard that the wood splintered. She ended up with half of a pole in her hand, but it was enough of a break that Aeron darted out from underneath the table.
But he didn’t leave.
In fact, his attitude had changed dramatically. He was no longer happy to see her, but angry and threatening.
“I do not care what you feel,” he growled. “You are mine and I will claim you.”
Although she only had half a weapon in her hands, Juliandra didn’t back down. Everything in her was screaming for release, to vent the emotions that were bubbling up.
“I am another man’s wife,” she said, holding the remaining pike like a club. “Body and soul, I belong to him, and you cannot change that.”
That brought him pause, but not for long. In fact, a lewd smile crossed his lips.
“So he has bedded you,” he said. “Good. That will make my task easier when I take you to my bed and fill you full of good Welsh sons.”
Juliandra was backing away because he was advancing on her as the tables slowly turned. “The only thing you fill me full of is hatred.”
Aeron was still grinning. “Brave words,” he said. “But the truth is that you are damaged goods now. Your father knows of such things. Once goods are damaged, they are sold at a reduced rate or they are given away for free. Do you think any decent man will touch you now that you’ve been marked by a Saesneg knight?”
“I do not want any other man.”
Aeron sneered at her. “You are a whore, girl,” he said. “A whore to a Saesneg.”
“I told you that I married him. I am his wife.”
“Then where is he?” Aeron asked. “Why are you here alone? I shall tell you why – because he took your innocence, decided you were not worth his time, and cast you aside. That is why you have come home – a soiled woman to hang your head in shame.”
He came too close again and she swung the broken pike, hitting him once in the face and once in the shoulder. But by the third strike, he managed to grab it, and they wrestled over it violently. Juliandra refused to let go, but Aeron was stronger than she was. He ended up slamming her around the room as she held on for dear life.
Megsy, panicked by what she was witnessing, ran to summon Gethin’s paid guards, who came rushing into the house as Aeron fought with their mistress. They ran into the hall to break up the fight and subdue Aeron, but it was a bad mistake.
One that would cost Juliandra.
Catching sight of the guards, Aeron managed to yank Juliandra towards him. She tried to resist but he grabbed her by the hair with one hand and put his other hand on her throat.
“Come no closer!” he shouted at the guards, squeezing Juliandra’s throat as she fought against him. “I’ll kill her if you do!”
The guards came to an instant halt, confused and concerned. There were only six of them, with the rest still in Pool at their master’s stall to protect the goods, but it would have been a simple thing to overwhelm Aeron with only six men if he didn’t have their master’s daughter in a precarious position.
They looked to Juliandra for direction and even though she was still fighting with Aeron, she knew that she had to clear the hall if there was any hope of getting out of this situation intact. Aeron had her in a dangerous position because he felt threatened, so she had to remove the threat. Her father’s men had to go.
She would have to figure her own way out of this predicament.
“Go,” she hissed at everyone who was hovering in the chamber. “Get out of here. Everyone out!”
The guards backed away, as did the few servants who happened to be there. Only Megsy was left, weeping into her apron, but she, too, eventually backed out when a guard pulled on her.
When the hall was completely empty, Juliandra tried to pull away from Aeron.
“Let me go,” she demanded, trying to peel his hand from her neck. “Let me go and I will not fight you any longer, I promise.”
Aeron had used the moment to his advantage. He was closer to Juliandra than he’d ever been and was smelling her hair even as she tried to squirm away from him.
“Nay,” he said, his grip on her throat easing because he was so caught up in the smell of her hair. “Just a moment longer… just a moment…”
Juliandra gave one big thrust and ripped herself from his grasp, leaving a few strands of her hair in his fingers. She bolted, trying to put distance between them, as he stood there and looked wounded because she had left him.
“Why?” he finally asked. “Why should you hate me so? I have never done anything to you. I have only wanted to have you for my own.”
The spot on her scalp where he ripped hair out was stinging, but she didn’t give any indication. She was only focused on removing Aeron from The Neath any way she could without bloodshed. Violence hadn’t worked.
Perhaps reason would.
She had to try.
“But I do not want to be with you,” she said, more calmly. “Aeron, I have told you this for years. My father has even told you but, still, you will not listen. What will it take for you to understand me?”
“I can convince him.”
The unexpected voice came from the entry and they both turned to see Kevin standing in the
doorway. He was in full armor, his de Lara sapphire dragon tunic on display and a wicked-looking broadsword strapped to his thigh. He looked every inch the terrifying English knight and Juliandra gasped at the sight.
“Kevin!”
He didn’t look at her. His focus was entirely on Aeron as the man stood several feet away and gaped at him.
“You,” Kevin boomed at Aeron. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
Aeron could hear death in Kevin’s voice – his own. The man looked as if he’d just single-handedly attended a battle with a thousand bloodthirsty warriors and was the only one who had emerged alive. The smell of death radiated off of him like smoke from a fire. Now that there wasn’t a closed portcullis between them, Aeron wasn’t so brave.
He began to move away from Kevin.
“Where I go and what I do does not concern you,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
Still, Kevin didn’t look at Juliandra. He was watching Aeron, tracking every move the man made.
“That is none of your affair,” he said. “Get out of this place or you will regret it.”
Aeron stiffened. “I will not,” he said. “You have no power here, Saesneg.”
“Move any closer to my wife and I will snap your neck.”
He’d noticed that Aeron was moving in Juliandra’s direction. As Aeron froze with uncertainty, Megsy suddenly appeared in the doorway that led to the kitchens.
“He tried to kill her!” the little maid wept. “He put his hands on her throat and tried to kill her! Help us, m’lord!”
Kevin took his focus from Aeron long enough to look at the maid. Juliandra was a few feet from her and she scurried over to the old woman, putting her arms around her. As Megsy sobbed and clutched her mistress, Kevin could see just how frightened the woman was. He finally dared to look at Juliandra, who was trying hard not to weep. He could see red welts around her neck and chest.
“Is this true?” he asked Juliandra calmly. “Did he try to kill you?”
She looked at him and when their eyes met, Kevin felt as if he’d been hit in the gut. She was pale, her eyes red-rimmed, and it was difficult for him not to slip back into the oblivion of guilt and self-pity.
The Agents of William Marshal Volume II: A Medieval Romance Bundle Page 82
