Lord of the Sky (The Executioner Knights Book 6)

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Lord of the Sky (The Executioner Knights Book 6) Page 12

by Kathryn Le Veque


  That human part of him was coming through again, the man with feeling. Juliandra could see it.

  “Surely he knew that you were doing your duty,” she said. “He must have been proud of you both.”

  “I would like to think so,” Kevin said. “At least, he was proud of me. My brother, on the other hand, had involved himself in… well, it does not matter. Sean is still the greatest knight I have ever known. Fortunately, my father realized that before he died.”

  Juliandra smiled faintly as she heard the admiration in his tone. “What kept you away from home for so long? Were you off fighting wars?”

  Kevin nodded, faintly. “Something like that,” he said quietly. “I served the Earl of Pembroke for many years. I also served Christopher de Lohr, the Earl of Hereford and Worcester. He is a great Marcher lord, too.”

  “Pembroke,” she repeated. “I have heard that name. Who is the earl?”

  “William Marshal.”

  She pondered that for a moment, recognizing the name. “He is an important man, is he not?”

  “He is. He is now the man who rules England.”

  “But England has a king.”

  Kevin nodded. “A king who is a child,” he said. “William Marshal is the lad’s protector and advisor.”

  “Do you serve him still?”

  He smiled weakly. “One is never truly out of the service of William Marshal,” he said. “But I have resigned my position if that is what you are asking. However, if he calls, I must answer.”

  “Your brother, too?”

  “My brother most of all.”

  Juliandra thought on what he’d told her. It seemed to her that Kevin was no simple knight if he had ties to William Marshal, who was inarguably the greatest knight England had ever seen. He controlled much of the country, as well, meaning Kevin was much more prestigious than she had originally thought.

  He was no simple Marcher lord.

  “Then you are a warlord, the kind my father dislikes so intensely,” she said with a smile.

  Kevin chuckled. “I am a warlord, indeed,” he said. “Unfortunately, warlords are necessary. We are the only thing that stands between civility and chaos. Your father should appreciate us more.”

  Juliandra shrugged, mostly in agreement. “My father dislikes everything these days, so do not take it personally.”

  Given what he’d been told about the man, Kevin understood. “He hates warlords and the church,” he said. “There isn’t much left. I would assume that he at least loves his only child.”

  She looked at him, then. “I am not an only child,” she said. “You may as well know that I have a brother, although my father refuses to speak of him and acknowledge him. He disowned him when he married against my father’s wishes.”

  Kevin’s brow furrowed. “That is quite serious,” he said. “But it seems a little severe to disown him for marrying without permission.”

  She shook her head. “There is a difference between marrying against my father’s wishes and marrying without permission,” she said. “The story is quite unbelievable, but I assure you that it is true. A troupe of minstrels passed through Pool about a year ago and they were very good. They played in the town’s square for a few weeks and people would come from all over to see them. They made a good deal of money with the coinage given to them for their entertainment and my brother, who worked in my father’s shop, became quite enamored with one of the singers.”

  Kevin could already see where this was going. “And he ran away with her?”

  Juliandra nodded. “Sadly, he did,” she said. “But that wasn’t the worst part. My brother is a year younger than I am and the woman is old enough to be his mother. Burke is such a kind and tender-hearted lad and this woman was very sweet to him. He was truly convinced that he was in love with her, but my father was certain the woman was manipulating him. One morning, Burke left and so did the minstrel group. Ever since then, my father has forbidden anyone to speak of my brother, including me.”

  Kevin understood something about disowning a family member. He did that to his own brother for years, convinced his brother had dishonored himself and his family. As it turned out, what Sean had done had all been in the service of his dedication to a safe and prosperous England.

  But Kevin didn’t see that at the time.

  Now, he did.

  Therefore, he had some sympathy to the plight of young Burke ap Gethin.

  “That is a difficult situation,” he said. “But I would not give up hope. Time has a way of healing those situations. Burke may come back to you yet.”

  Juliandra nodded sadly. “I hope so,” she said. “I miss my brother very much. I wish I knew where he had gone and how he was faring. We’ve not heard from him in all that time.”

  “You will,” Kevin said. “He is still family. As I said, time has a way of healing those wounds.”

  She looked at him, an inquisitive cast in her expression. “You speak as if you know something about family troubles.”

  Kevin rolled his eyes. “It would take me years to tell you everything I know about family troubles,” he said. “Suffice it to say that I do indeed know a great deal about them. I therefore speak from experience.”

  She smiled as if convinced by his wisdom. The subject of Burke was always a painful one, something she really couldn’t speak of. She probably shouldn’t have even said anything to Kevin but, somehow, she didn’t want him thinking that her father was a general malcontent.

  He had his reasons.

  “You should not mention our conversation to my father,” she said. “Bringing up Burke is like throwing fuel on a fire. He would not take it well.”

  Kevin shook his head. “I will not,” he said. “You have my word.”

  “Thank you.”

  She paused for only a moment before asking, “Is there anything else you wish to know? Anything further questions you may have?”

  He cocked his head, casting her a curious glance. She was very much pressing him for questions, the questions he had mentioned when he had asked her to remain at Wybren, so he had a feeling she was hoping he would exhaust himself with questions so her father would be released and she could go home.

  In truth, it would be quite the opposite. Kevin was going to delay his questions as long as he could, increasingly concerned about the lie he was building on.

  He didn’t like it in the least.

  “It seems as if you are anxious for me to ask,” he said after a moment. “You are not, perchance, eager to leave here, are you?”

  She laughed softly. “Wouldn’t you be?” she said. “It is no secret that I want to go home and I want my father released.”

  “All in due time, my lady.”

  His eyes were glimmering at her as he said it, which didn’t make his reply seem like a rebuke. Simply a fact. A smile was still lingering on Juliandra’s lips when it very well shouldn’t have been. They were discussing her father’s release. God forgive her, but that was starting to feel a little less of a priority over her interest in Kevin.

  She was a terrible daughter, indeed.

  “I suppose,” she finally said. “But you promised this would not be permanent.”

  “It will not be.”

  “Is my father at least comfortable?”

  She didn’t notice that he stumbled slightly before answering. “He wants for nothing.”

  She believed him, so she didn’t press. She was building a rather nice rapport with the man and she didn’t want to ruin it. She was coming to think that if she was sweet enough, and helpful enough, perhaps her father’s release would come much sooner. Maybe she could even charm Kevin into releasing him. Pestering the man more than likely wouldn’t have the desired result, but being sweeter than honey might.

  It was an avenue she was willing to explore.

  “Well,” she said, turning away from him. “If I am to be here for a length of time, I would like to contribute to Wybren somehow. If I must sit here all day with nothing to do,
I will go mad.”

  He was interested. “What do you want to do?”

  She paused, turning to look at him. “At The Neath, I am chatelaine,” she said. “I take care of everything in the household. Do you have a chatelaine?”

  “I have a majordomo.”

  “May I at least be given some duties for the kitchens and the feasting hall? May I at least oversee the meals?”

  “Would you like to?”

  “I would.”

  He thought on it for a moment before nodding. “Very well,” he said. “I will introduce you to the majordomo. You can assist him if it pleases you.”

  “At least I will not die of boredom.”

  Kevin grinned. “You do not like this chamber? You can see everything from that window. Surely that should keep you entertained.”

  She pointed to the big window. “This should be your place,” she said. “As commander of Wybren, you can see everyone who is coming and going.”

  He shook his head. “I have a better place.”

  She looked at the window. “Better than that?” she said, surprised. “Where?”

  He pointed in a general upward direction. “In the towers of the keep,” he said. “I can see everything from there. It feels as if I am a bird, looking down over the entire landscape.”

  He was speaking of the towers that Wybren was famous for and Juliandra smiled. “Wybren means the sky,” she said. “I suppose that makes you Lord of the Sky.”

  He grinned, perhaps bashfully at such a grandiose name. “I suppose.”

  Her smile broadened. “A great name for a great knight.”

  That was about all the flattery Kevin could take from her and not start blushing like a new bride. Smirking to cover his embarrassment, he changed the subject.

  “Would you come with me now?” he said. “We can locate the majordomo and discover how you may assist him.”

  Not oblivious to the fact that Kevin was shifting the focus away from him and her flattering words, which may have been a little too heavy-handed, Juliandra rushed to find her leather shoes. The new dress was lightweight and much more functional than the elaborate confection she’d been wearing, and she moved swiftly and confidently in it. Strange as it seemed, there was also something special about it because Kevin had helped her secure it.

  It had been an odd bonding moment.

  While she should have been feeling depressed and doomed to have returned to her captivity at Wybren, the truth was that she wasn’t feeling sorrowful in the least. When she was looking forward to charming the man and perhaps having her father released sooner, just the opposite was happening.

  Little did she realize that Kevin was charming her instead.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Llanwyffyn Stronghold

  Home of Aeron ap Gruffudd

  The home of Aeron ap Gruffudd looked more like a prison.

  It had been in his family for generations, situated alongside a pristine lake that, from certain angles, looked as if the water actually touched the sky. But it was the only thing touched by Aeron that was beautiful, for the lands that had belonged to his family for hundreds of years were mostly void of anything useful, stripped by hungry animals or men looking for things to eat or burn in their hearths.

  Aeron had about two hundred men who lived in or around Llanwyffyn, men who served him, but he didn’t supply them with anything more than lands to live on. They had to supply everything else.

  Megsy had never been to Llanwyffyn, but she’d heard tale of it. It was an odd place, as if the lands around it were darker, somehow. Other than the lake, everything seemed gloomier, like a land that had been drained of anything caring or lovely, the sentiment burned out of it long ago.

  These were Megsy’s thoughts as she stood in the hall of Llanwyffyn. If the lands were devoid of life, the interior of Llanwyffyn’s keep was like being thrown into the middle of a nightmare. The floor leaned and was pocked with holes in places, packs of snarling dogs roamed the chamber, and an unnaturally large fire blazed in a pit in the middle of it. Smoke filled the chamber because the holes in the roof where it was supposed to escape were blocked with bird droppings.

  But none of it seemed to bother Aeron. He was a tall man with stringy black hair and a patch over his right eye, lost in a fight in his youth. The two sergeants that had accompanied Megsy from The Neath were the ones to deliver the news to Aeron that the object of his affection and her father were now prisoners of the new English Lord of Wybren Castle.

  Aeron wasn’t usually one to show any interest in most things around him, but when it came to Juliandra ferch Gethin, he was quite interested. He and a few of his men listened to the sergeants speak of Juliandra’s captivity, and Gethin’s capture, with growing outrage. By the time the sergeants were finished, Aeron was on his feet.

  “How long ago did this happen?” he demanded.

  “Less than a week,” the first sergeant answered. “They’re both captive at Wybren. Can you help us, great lord?”

  Aeron’s nostrils flared. “Damn,” he rumbled. “I knew something like this was going to happen, something terrible. I told that English knight that he is not welcome here, but he dismissed me. I have even sent word to my cousin about him, asking for help, but now I cannot wait for that help. The Saesneg has pushed my hand because he has taken what belongs to me. This will not stand.”

  Megsy was growing increasingly fearful as she listened to Aeron rant. “She went to pay the toll for her father,” she said, trying not to weep. “He took her for payment instead!”

  She blew her nose into her apron as Aeron scowled. “Foolish wench,” he said. “She should have never gone alone. Of course the Saesneg is going to demand that she stay. He has probably already taken that which belongs to me!”

  He meant her innocence. The sergeants from The Neath passed glances, confident that they’d worked Aeron into enough of a frenzy that he would do something about the situation. Where Aeron was concerned, it often took very little prompting for him to fly into a rage, especially where Juliandra was involved.

  His jealousy would consume him like nothing else.

  “I can give you about twenty men, my lord,” the first sergeant said. “I wish it could be more.”

  But Aeron waved him off. “Keep your men,” he said. “I have my own. I can raise more.”

  One of Aeron’s men, a cousin, in fact, spoke from behind him. “What do you have in mind?”

  Aeron turned to look at the son of his father’s brother, a man he had been raised with. “We should have never let the Saesneg take possession of Wybren, Adan,” he said. “We should have done something the very day the knight took possession, but Glynn would not help me. Do you recall? He was reluctant. But I do not need him.”

  Adan eyed his cousin with an expression that suggested years of living in fear of the man, but he’d long learned to be calm with Aeron or nothing would be accomplished. Aeron could shout louder and angrier than anyone, so Adan kept his composure as much as he was able.

  He looked to the men from The Neath.

  “Go outside and wait for us,” he instructed. “We will speak on this matter and decide what is to be done.”

  The sergeants nodded and headed out, dragging Megsy along. She didn’t want to go, more interested in what Aeron would be saying because it pertained to Juliandra. But they dragged her through the door and once they were out of earshot, Adan turned to his cousin.

  “You already sent word to Phylip about this,” he said. “You must wait for him to answer. He knows more about the Saesneg than you do.”

  But Aeron shook his head. “I have waited,” he said. “And see what has happened? Now the bastard has Juliandra and something must be done.”

  Adan took a deep breath. “Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?” he said. “You plan to attack Wybren without help from Phylip?”

  Aeron looked at his cousin, a man he considered wise but also cowardly. Adan wasn’t fond of battle.

  “We s
hould have done it at the start, before the Saesneg gained a foothold,” he said. “I should have insisted Glynn give me his men, but I did not. I was a fool. Now they have Juliandra, sullying the woman before I had a chance to do it.”

  Adan could see the unreasonable rage building and he knew he had to make his case before the blind fury took over.

  “Listen to me,” he said. “You may be able to raise hundreds to attack Wybren, or mayhap not. Glynn did not give you his men for a good reason – too many of the warlords know what attacking a Marcher castle will do to them. It will bring all of the Saesneg Marcher lords down around us and we cannot fight them all.”

  Aeron didn’t want to admit that he was right. “Then what?” he said sarcastically. “We do nothing, Adan? You know that I cannot sit aside while that bastard takes that which belongs to me.”

  Adan shook his head. “You must wait for Phylip to respond,” he said. “You will need his support.”

  “I do not need his support.”

  Adan lifted a dark eyebrow. “You do and you know it,” he said, holding up a hand to beg patience while he continued. “Aeron, you must put a siege out of your mind for now, at least until you hear from Phylip. Right now, you do not have enough men. It would be futile because you would not have enough support for a sustained campaign against a castle that has never been breached.”

  Aeron was confident in his arrogance. “No one has ever seriously tried,” he said. “With enough men, we can get over her walls. It can be done.”

  Adan switched tactics. “Then the Saesneg might harm Juliandra to punish you for your aggression,” he said. “Did you ever think of that?”

  Aeron hadn’t, but he hated to admit such a thing. His rising battle ardor was cooled. “Nay,” he finally said. “They are cowards and brutes. I suppose it is possible that they could.”

  Adan nodded firmly. “You want her returned to you whole and safe, not thrown over the wall to punish you for your actions,” he said. “If the Saesneg wants a woman, then mayhap that is what we should do. Exchange Juliandra for another woman and that would solve the problem of Juliandra’s captivity. We could bring him one, someone beautiful and lush.”

 

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