“Stay away!” Allaston yelled, wielding the iron spit. “If you come any closer, I will be forced to defend myself!”
Teague came to a halt. “You are trapped, Lady Allaston,” he said. “Put down the spit and I will not harm you. Use it against me and I will not be so kind to you when I capture you. And I will capture you, so consider your actions from this point on very carefully.”
Allaston wouldn’t back down. It wasn’t in her nature. “Nay,” she shook her head. “I will not surrender without a fight. I will not let you take me, do you hear? You shall not have me.”
Dallan came out of the kitchen, beating down his burnt tunic, and he came up behind Teague, looking between the commander and the lady with a good deal of curiosity and irritation.
“What goes on here?” he demanded of Teague. “Why are you chasing her?”
Teague wouldn’t take his eyes off Allaston. Like any good hunter, he kept his eye on the prize. “Because she will ensure that Bretton behaves and does what he is told,” he said. “Help me capture her. She cannot fight off both of us.”
Dallan shrugged, as he didn’t really know what was going on and didn’t particularly care, but he nonetheless did as Teague asked and moved wide, trying to distract the lady while Teague moved up on her from the other side. She was boxed in, with nowhere to go, but they wanted to capture her without anyone losing an eye. A frightened lady was a fearsome thing.
Their movements terrified Allaston. She knew it was only a matter of time before they captured her but she wasn’t going to surrender easily. She began swinging the spit wildly, daring them to come close, hoping to clip someone very badly in the process.
“Stay away, I say!” she screamed at them. “I will not let you have me, do you hear? I will kill you if you try!”
“And I will help you.”
The deep, booming voice came from the entry to the kitchen yard. Allaston looked up to see Jax coming through the gate his massive broadsword gleaming wickedly in the morning light. Fully armored and looking every inch the terrifying Dark Lord of legend, Jax approached with the stalking grace of a cat, scoping out his enemy as he moved. It was clear he was heading in for the kill.
All of the poets in the world collectively could not have described the joy and relief of that moment as Allaston’s gaze beheld the father she hadn’t seen in well over a year. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sight and it was an effort not to run to him.
“Papa!” she gasped.
Jax didn’t look at his daughter as he moved. To do so would have been to take his eye off his enemy and that action could be deadly. So he didn’t take the chance and continued to stalk, moving Teague and Dallan away from his daughter. It was a slow, tense dance they engaged in as Jax circled them, waiting for the moment to strike.
“Are you well, Allie?” Jax asked from behind his terrifying helm.
Allaston nodded. “I am fine,” she said. “How did you find me?”
Jax swung the broadsword in a very controlled, very threatening maneuver that caused both Teague and Dallan to back up, moving away from Allaston. The man was death personified and even though they were experienced warriors, engaging Ajax de Velt was something neither one of them was prepared for. Dallan was armed with a broadsword but Teague wasn’t. He was at a distinct disadvantage.
“De Velt!” Dallan hissed, his eyes wide. “Good Christ, as I live and breathe, ’tis The Dark Lord himself!”
Teague kept his eyes on Jax as he spoke to Dallan. “Hold him while I go get my weapon,” he said. “I will meet him on equal ground.”
Dallan’s eyes widened. “Hold de Velt?” he said. “Are you mad? I will do no such thing! Let him take his daughter and leave. My life is not worth trying to keep de Velt from his daughter.”
With a heavy sigh, Teague turned to Dallan, grabbed his broadsword, and gored him with it. Dallan grunted as the broadsword cut into his chest, carving through bone and vital organs. He was dead before he hit the ground and Teague removed the broadsword, facing off against Jax.
“Now I am properly armed,” he said evenly. “This will be much more of a battle because if you want your daughter, you are going to have to fight for her.”
Jax wasn’t amused. “Then stop talking and get on with it. I grow weary of your stalling.”
The sound of metal upon metal pierced the morning air like a thunderclap.
*
Bretton saw the moment when Teague killed Dallan, and he further watched as Teague went after de Velt with a vengeance. De Velt was powerful, more powerful than Teague, but he hadn’t held a broadsword in hand to hand combat in many years. Unfortunately for Jax, it made the battle more an even playing field in Teague’s favor.
“Damnation!” Bretton roared, standing at the postern gate where several of his soldiers were lingering, watching the fight between Jax and Teague. “Open this gate!”
The soldiers, having no idea why de Llion was outside of the walls, complied, and Bretton entered with Rod and John Morgan on his heels. All three men were armed and as Bretton charged Teague, he unsheathed his broadsword, preparing to gore the man any way he could, but unfortunately for him, Teague saw him approach. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and, seeing Bretton on the offensive, lashed out a booted foot and caught Jax in the knee, causing the man to buckle. As Jax went down, Teague bolted in Allaston’s direction.
Allaston, who had been watching the fight with horror, had lowered her spit and wasn’t able to lift it fast enough as Teague came after her. He grabbed her by the neck and she dropped the spit, screaming because he had hurt her. When Bretton, Rod, and John Morgan saw that Teague had Allaston in his grasp, their onslaught came to an instant halt.
“Now,” Teague said as Allaston squirmed in his grip. “It would seem I have the power. Bretton, unfortunately, that means your army is now mine. You are far too distracted with personal issues to be an effective commander and I want what you promised me, do you hear? That means that I will take the army, and Lady Allaston, with me first to Erwood Castle, and then on to Four Crosses Castle, insuring that you will behave yourself as long as I hold her hostage. In fact, Lord de Velt, since those castles belong to you, it would be wise of you to simply hand them over to me. If you do not, things could go very badly for your daughter.”
As Jax struggled to his feet, Rod went to him and helped him up. “I will turn them over to you, but you must give me my daughter now,” Jax said. “If you keep her, you get nothing.”
“And if I get nothing, she will rot away in a vault somewhere and there is nothing you can do about it.”
“Teague,” Bretton stepped forward, putting himself between Teague and Jax because he wanted the man’s attention. “Listen to me now so that we may come to an agreement. You do indeed hold the power with Lady Allaston. I do not dispute it. And you are correct. I am distracted with personal issues. I am distracted with Lady Allaston. She belongs to me, Teague. Return her to me and I will give you everything I have, all of the wealth I have accumulated over the years. Everything shall be yours if you will give her back to me.”
Teague’s grip on Allaston tightened and she gasped in pain. “That is a fair bargain,” he agreed. “But until I have everything you own deposited before me, she will remain with me. Not to say I do not trust you, but this is business. You promised to make me a wealthy man and you will fulfill that vow.”
Over Teague’s left shoulder, where the kitchen structure was located, Bretton could see movement in the window that Allaston had escaped from. He didn’t dare look for fear of tipping Teague off, but he swore he could see an arm extending from the window, and the hand at the end of the arm held something. He began to suspect that a distraction of some kind was coming so he braced himself, moving in a direction that would make Teague blind to what was going on behind him. He had no idea what anyone else was doing around him and he didn’t care. All he cared about at the moment was keeping Teague’s focus. He had to gain the upper hand.
�
�I have done everything I told you I would do,” he said. “I have never gone back on my word with you and I certainly will not do it now. Give me Lady Allaston and I swear to you that you shall have all that I own.”
Teague glanced at the woman writhing in his grip. “Why is she worth so much to you, Bretton?” he asked, genuinely curious. “She is your prisoner. You treated the woman worse than a dog when you first abducted her but now you consider her something of a treasure. I do not understand.”
Bretton drew in a long, steadying breath. He couldn’t stand to see Allaston in pain as Teague twisted her neck. If he squeezed any harder, he might possibly snap it. Bretton struggled not to feel a sense of panic.
“Have you ever been in love, Teague?” he asked. Then, he shook his head. “I have never been. My entire life has been full of horrors that I will not describe here, but suffice it to say that loving someone was the furthest thing from my mind. But that has changed. I have changed. I didn’t want to admit it before now, but it is true. There is a man standing a few feet away from me whom I swore vengeance upon because he killed my father, but I’ve come to learn that he did not kill my father at all. My father is alive and well. Have you met my father, Teague? He is here, beside me as I have always wanted him to be.”
He turned to John Morgan, who was standing a few feet away, a grim expression on his face and a broadsword in his hand. Bretton smiled at the man.
“He does not know me, but that does not matter,” he continued. “The moment I saw him alive, it was as if all of the pain and hatred I’d ever held in my life was sucked right out of me. That vengeance that has driven me is diminished. I no longer need it, for my father is not dead. It is a truly odd sensation to realize I no longer need that hatred to keep me alive. But what I do need is Allaston.”
Bretton returned his focus to Teague and Allaston, struggling with each other a few feet away. Teague gazed back at him, something hard and dark within his eyes.
“What are you telling me, Bretton?” he asked. “That you no longer hate? I can give you a reason to hate, my friend. If that is what it takes to drive you, to give me everything you promised me, then I can indeed give you a reason to hate.”
Bretton shook his head, knowing what Teague was leading up to. “Do not do it,” he said quietly. “I had my family taken away from me when I was very young and it took me twenty-five years to learn to love again. Allaston has shown me what it means to love and to be loved. If you take her away from me… I doubt I would feel hatred. I would feel hollowness and grief such as the world has never seen. I have promised you all that I have in exchange for her. I beg you to take it and give her back to me.”
Teague opened his mouth to reply but was cut off when he was hit on the side of the head by a small iron pot that came flying out of the kitchen window. Uldward the cook had hurled it at him with great aim and Teague, without his helm, was struck square-on, enough so that he pitched forward, losing his grip on Allaston as he fell.
Everyone standing around the man swooped in. Bretton grabbed Allaston while Jax, Rod, and John Morgan jumped on Teague, stripping him of his arms and beating him within an inch of his life. Bretton swept Allaston into his arms, carrying her towards the gateway that led into the kitchen yard, noticing that, out in the bailey, there was a tide of de Lohr and de Velt soldiers pouring through the open portcullis.
Cloryn was breached but Bretton could not have cared less. He had Allaston and that was all that mattered. The world was crumbling around him but he was oblivious – he had his world in his arms.
“Are you well?” Bretton asked as he lowered her to the ground. His big palms cupped her face, studying her. “Did he hurt you?”
Allaston was gasping softly, with joy and relief. “He did not,” she said, her hands moving to his lips, watching him kiss her flesh. “Are you well?”
He laughed softly, pulling her into a warm embrace. “I am very well.”
Allaston collapsed against him, savoring the feel of his body against hers. As she held him, she began to weep.
“My father is here,” she sobbed. “Bretton, please… I have begged you so many times not to kill him. What more can I say that will make a difference to you? I will never stop asking you. I cannot. I cannot watch the two men I love best fight each other until the death.”
He shushed her softly. “Did you not hear what I told Teague?”
She sniffled and wept. “I… I am not sure,” she said. “I suppose I really was not listening. I was too afraid he was going to break my neck.”
Bretton squeezed her and released her, holding her back at arm’s length so he could look her in the eye.
“My father is alive, Allaston,” he said softly. “It is as I told Teague. The moment I saw him, alive and well, it was as if all of the pain and hatred I’d ever held in my life was sucked right out of me. I felt the vengeance that has driven me diminish because I no longer needed it, for my father is not dead. I no longer need that hatred to keep me alive. I cannot describe what I feel better than that. It is as if… as if I feel whole. That black hole inside of me, the one you once described, is gone.”
Allaston’s hysterics had faded as she gazed up at him, listening to his words. Was it possible? She could only shake her head, amazed at what she was hearing, amazed at the words that were coming forth. She could have never hoped for, or imagined, such a thing from Bretton.
“But… how is this possible?” she asked softly. “That hatred drove you. It made you who you are. You told me I could not take it away from you, no one could. You told me once that you were not sure if you could let go of what you have become.”
Bretton sighed. “I know,” he nodded. “I will never be perfect but all I can tell you is that, at this moment, I feel like the most fortunate man on the face of the earth. You told me once that God gave you to me for a life gone wrong. Look around you. My father is here and you are here… this is the most perfect life I can imagine. Nothing else matters, not vengeance or your father or the horrors of my past. Those things will always be a part of me, but they will not rule me as I have let them. I have you now and I’ve come to see that is the most important thing of all. You were right when you said I loved my vengeance more than you, but that is no longer the case. That vengeance has been swept away. I am not sure I can explain it better than that.”
Gazing into his face, Allaston was coming to believe him. She didn’t know why or how it was truly possible for the man to suddenly forget and forgive twenty-five years of hatred, but she wasn’t going to argue with him. If he felt whole, and if he felt like the most fortunate man on the face of the earth, then that was all she could ask for. A smile spread across her lips, one of joy and hope, and Bretton smiled in return. It was time to believe in something other than vengeance. It was time to believe in each other. As Allaston threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, she heard a familiar voice behind them.
“Allie,” Jax was standing a few feet away, his visor lifted and his dual-eyed gaze moving between her and Bretton. “I cannot help but notice that this is not the behavior of a prisoner.”
Allaston laughed softly, rushing to her father and giving the man the biggest hug she possibly could. Jax squeezed his child, tears stinging his eyes with utter joy and relief. When she let him go, he grabbed her face with his two big hands and looked her right in the eye.
“Are you well, sweetheart?” he whispered hoarsely. “Your mother and I have been worried sick for you.”
Allaston nodded, kissing her father on the cheek. “I have been fine, Papa, I swear it,” she said, turning to look at Bretton, who was standing where she had left him. His expression was rather uncertain but Allaston smiled at him. “Bretton… well, he is much like you. I think you two have more in common than you can imagine.”
Jax’s gaze found Bretton and he groaned loudly. “You sent a missive to me to come to you at Cloryn,” he said quietly. “Here I am. I am offering myself in exchange for my daughter.”
Bretton held the man’s gaze steadily. “There was a time when those words would have meant everything to me,” he said. Then, he shook his head, reflecting on bitter memories of the past. This was a defining moment for Bretton, one that would see him move beyond the hatred and accept what life had dealt him, as a true man would. “I had a speech planned for you when we finally met, de Velt. I was going to tell you what you did to my life, how you took my family from me, how I had to fight to survive, and how I spent my life being fueled by thoughts of vengeance against you. I took your castles and I took your daughter and, when you came to me, I was going to take your life, too. You ruined my life and I was going to punish you for it. But… a very strange thing happened.”
Jax stood there with his arm around Allaston’s shoulders, listening to a man who had thoughts that were very much like his own had been many years ago. Anger, greed, vengeance… aye, he had experienced those things, too, so he understood them well.
“What happened?” he asked softly.
Bretton’s gaze moved to Allaston. “A woman happened,” he said quietly. “I abducted her but she turned the tables on me and captured everything about me; my heart, my soul, my mind. But that still wasn’t enough to quench my vengeance against you. I was still going to go through with it which, I am coming to realize, would have cost me the most valuable thing I have ever had – Allaston’s love. Yet, when you and de Lohr showed up with my father, it was as if everything suddenly started to make sense. I have based my entire life on a lie – the lie of my father’s death. I believed you killed him and I hated you for it. I tried to hate your daughter, too, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And with my father returned… my sense of vengeance is gone. It is true that you set about a chain of events that saw me lead a terrible life for quite some time, but in hindsight, mayhap it all happened for a reason. Ultimately, it brought me to your daughter.”
Jax considered the man before looking to Allaston, who was gazing at Bretton with that same dreamy expression that Jax had seen on his wife, Kellington. It was the look of love, and Allaston had it. Jax lifted his eyebrows in resignation.
Nunnery Brides: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 135
