Water splashed onto the floor and sent droplets into the hearth, creating puffs of white smoke. Using a bar of hard white soap that Keats had purchased for his daughter when he had traveled to Bristol, Matilda proceeded to scrub her mistress with the sudsy, almost greasy, bar. After much scrubbing and several rinses, Kellington stepped from the tub and wrapped herself in an enormous sheet of drying linen. As she sat by the hearth, Matilda combed out the braids that she had slept in.
The braids had made her long blond hair wavy and silky. Kellington brushed her teeth with a soft reed as Matilda tried to pull the linen off of her and get her dressed. But it was chilly and Kellington held on to the linen, wrapping herself more tightly in it as Matilda pleaded. Finally, and with a grin, Kellington tossed back the linen and hooted at the temperature of the room, demanding to be given her shift. Matilda could hardly get it on her for as much as she was jumping around. But the soft linen shift when on, as did the warm pantalets and stockings.
Because she suspected she was going to spend some time in the orchards this day, Kellington chose a durable gown of gold-colored wool. It was a shade that made her golden-brown eyes appear almost entirely gold and complimenting her lovely features. The neckline was close to her neck, laying along her clavicle and closing tightly at the edge of her shoulders. The sleeves were long and snug and the bodice form-fitting. It was a warm garment and she knew she would need it on this cold morn.
She knew Jax and his army was leaving at dawn and she wanted to see him before he went, causing her to urge Matilda to hurry and finish with the dressing. As Kellington slipped on her warm doe-skin slippers, Matilda brushed her hair back and folded into a long, neat braid down her back. Kellington pulled on the matching coat that went with the gown, a sleeveless garment that was lined with fur around the neck and arm openings, and trailed all the way to the floor. It was heavy and warm. Pulling on a pair of doe-skinned gloves, she eagerly quit the chamber.
It was still very dark as she made her way down to the third floor. The door to her father’s chamber was closed so she continued down to the second floor. There was some light radiating from the great hall two serving women brought fresh bread and other goods up from the kitchen. But for the two of them, the hall was empty.
Kellington went into the dark, cold solar and lit two tapers on the desk. She took her writing box from the shelf and pulled down the parchment that had all of the names of the laborers written. As she sat down to go over the list of names, a figure entered the solar.
It was Jax’s knight, Michael. Broad and squat, he was dressed in full battle gear. Kellington looked up from her parchment.
“What is it?” she asked.
The man wiped his nose with his mailed glove. “De Velt says to tell you that your laborers are already arriving. He has them penned in the bailey and wants you to come right away.”
Rolling up her parchment, she quit the room with the stocky knight on her heels. Emerging from the keep into the heavy darkness of pre-dawn, she descended the wooden stairs into a bailey that was full of men and torches. De Velt’s men soldiers were everywhere. Michael walked beside her, gradually directing her to an area near the gatehouse where several dozen people stood. As Kellington drew close, she recognized some of the people from Hadden. Amadeo was there, as were several other soldiers, forming a human ring around the frightened group.
Kellington wasn’t pleased with the fact that her laborers were being harassed into a terrified huddle. Granted, they had been frightened into their jobs, but she did not appreciate the way Jax’s men were treating them like prisoners. She marched up, eyeing Amadeo as the man stood tall and silent with a stony look on his face.
“Thank you for being such a gracious host to our guests,” she said sarcastically. “I believe I can handle them from here.”
Amadeo looked at her as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “De Velt has ordered them watched, my lady.”
“Why?”
“This is a military installation. All non-military personnel must be watched.”
She lifted an eyebrow at him. “There is really no need, I assure you. These people are here to work.”
“You will have to take that up with de Velt, my lady.”
She pursed her lips irritably. “Where is he, then?”
Amadeo pointed up. She thought he was pointing at the sky, but she looked up the wall, craning her neck back until her vision eventually beheld the parapet walk about thirty feet above her head. She could see an enormous figure looming against the early dawn sky, having no doubt with the sheer size of who it was. He was watching the entire scene from above.
“Send him to me, please.”
Amadeo’s gaze was steady on her as he emitted a sharp whistle between his teeth, sending one of the soldiers running for de Velt. Still clutching her parchment, Kellington walked away from Amadeo, inspecting the men and women who had shown up on this chilly morning. Frankly, she was surprised to see any of them. But the fear of de Velt’s wrath carried a great deal of weight.
“Thank you for coming,” she said to the group. “It does not look as if everyone has arrived yet, but I would like to know if any of you have brought wagons.”
The crowd looked around at each other until a timid hand, about half way back, emerged into the air. Kellington saw it and pointed to the man.
“Yes, you there,” she said. “Did you bring a wagon?”
The crowd parted as the thin, brown-haired man lowered his hand. “I did, my lady.”
“Good,” she replied. “I will pay you an extra pence a day for the use of your wagon. Has anyone else brought wagons?”
With the knowledge that she would pay extra for the use of wagons, six other people raised their hands. Kellington was pleased. Just as she began to speak to an older, burly looking man about helping her organize the wagons, Jax suddenly appeared out of the darkness.
The crowd seemed to shrink away as he approached; that was how Kellington knew he was coming. She turned around just in time to see that he was nearly upon her.
“Good morn to you, my lord,” she said pleasantly. “May I have a brief word with you?”
He didn’t say a word but began to walk away from her. Kellington presumed she should follow and she did. They walked several feet away from the group when he suddenly turned and looked at her.
“What is it?” he said with some impatience. “I have a good deal of work to accomplish before my army departs in an hour.”
She pouted. “Can you not even say good morn to me? We are not going to see each other for quite some time. An eternity, you said.”
He stared at her a moment before breaking into a crooked smile. “Aye, an eternity,” he loosened up. “Good morn to you. Now, how can I be of assistance?”
“You can remove the guard from the group of laborers. Honestly, Jax, they’re not going to riot. I have a lot of work to accomplish myself and I cannot do it if my workers are too afraid to move.”
“This is a military installation,” he pointed out. “I cannot have….”
She put a hand up to stop him. “I know, I know; I heard it from Amadeo. Will you at least pull the knights off? Their mere presence is terrifying. Leave a soldier or two if you must, but send the knights away.”
He sighed heavily, his fists resting on his slender hips. After a moment, he jerked his head at her.
“Come with me,” he said.
He was already walking away. Kellington skipped after him. “Where are we going?” she asked.
He didn’t answer her as they rounded the massive keep. They were into the kitchen yard now with the buttery and cold house to the right. It was quiet but for the stirring of some chickens. As they reached the shadow cast by the keep, he abruptly came to a halt and turned on her. She walked right into his amorous embrace.
The ferocity of his kiss did not surprise her; every encounter they had was becoming increasingly passionate. She wrapped her arms around his neck, meeting him suckle for suckle, th
eir tongues invading each other to reacquaint themselves with distinctive flavors. He had her up off the ground, her feet dangling more than a foot above the dirt. He finally swept a big arm under her knees to carry her against his chest. Kellington’s arms tightened around his neck.
“Oh, Jax,” she murmured as his lips suckled on her jaw. “I wish you did not have to go.”
“I told you that I will return,” he whispered against her skin. “When I do, I shall marry you.”
She clung to him as he nuzzled her neck. “You must ask my father first.”
“I will.”
“And if he says no?”
He pulled back to look at her. “What would you have me do then?”
She gazed at him, running a finger down the side of his face. “I shall talk to him, if that is the case,” she said softly. “If he still denies us, then we will be married anyway.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “You would defy your father?”
She was watching his mouth as he spoke, her finger running along his lower lip, watching him kiss it. “Promise me something.”
“What?” he said with mock outrage. “More promises?”
“I am serious.”
“I do not see you making any promises to me.”
She lifted her eyes to meet his. “What would you have me promise?”
His smile broke through as he noted her completely puzzled expression. “Promise that you will never leave me,” he said, half-joking.
She looked surprised, sad even, that he would ask such a thing. “Oh, my pet,” she murmured earnestly. “I will never leave you, I will always be true to you, and it will be only you in my heart for as long as I live.”
The smile was gone from his face. “Swear it,” he whispered.
“I swear it.”
He kissed her then, more strongly, deeply and reverently than he ever had. But he had tremendously pressing duties to attend to and knew he could delay no longer. Reluctantly, sadly, he set her gently to her feet again.
“When I return, I will bring you gifts,” he said. “Something lovely for your neck or hand, I should think. Maybe both.”
She looked queerly at him. “Not spoils of war.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. I do not want spoils of war. I do not want anything that you have stolen from someone else. If you are to bring me gifts, then it will be something that you have purchased.”
He pursed his lips. “You are a demanding wench.”
“Promise me, Jax.”
He knew better than to argue and put up a hand to ease her. “Very well,” he said with some irritation. “Something that I have purchased. Anything else?”
“I like perfume.”
“Perfume?” he repeated with mock outrage. “Do you have any idea what it will be like for a man with my reputation to purchase perfume? The humiliation alone will cause ticks and tremors. I’ll be lucky if I survive such a thing.”
She giggled as they began their walk back towards the gate house. “You are a strong man. You will endure.”
“You are very cruel.”
“I know.”
The rounded the keep, coming into view of the rest of the ward. Kellington knew their time together was growing extremely short; soon he would go his way and she would go hers. She began to feel distinct pangs of separation.
“Jax?” she asked softly.
“Aye, love?”
“Promise me again that you will return to me whole.”
“I promise I shall do my best.”
“I will miss you.”
He sounded surprised. “You will?”
“Of course.”
“No one has ever missed me before.”
They cast side long glances at each other, expressions hopefully shielded from others by the dark dawn. When it came to the point to separate, Jax looked at her one last time.
“Ten days,” he said quietly.
“Ten days for what?” she asked.
“I will return in ten days.”
She smiled faintly. “I shall await your return, my pet.”
He turned to walk away. She couldn’t help it; she lifted her fingers to her lips and blew him a gentle kiss. He responded with a bold wink. And then he was gone, heading towards the gatehouse and disappearing inside.
Kellington’s gaze lingered on the black doorway for a moment, still seeing him there. Her heart was twisting with joy and sorrow, of fear and longing. After several long seconds, she turned back to the crowd of laborers several yards away. The sun was beginning to rise and there was much to do. Pushing aside all thoughts of Jax de Velt, she plunged into the task of the harvest.
*
Keats was just pulling on his boots when a soft rap sounded at the door. Rising to open it, he was confronted with a knight he had seen in battle during the siege of Pelinom. He knew it was one of de Velt’s men but he did not know his name. He was a big man with dark blond hair and brown eyes, one of the many that the Dark Lord commanded. He was a killer.
Caelen’s brown eyes glittered at Keats. “Amadeo has sent me.”
“For what purpose?”
“I believe you already know. Are you ready to leave?”
Keat’s sighed, nodding his head as he went to collect his small satchel. There was a larger one on the floor, one that Lavaine had packed for Kellington. He retrieved that one as well and handed them both to Caelen.
“Now what?” he asked the knight.
Caelen shifted the bags to one hand. “You are to bring your daughter to the stables where horses will be waiting.”
Keats’ scratched his head. “I’ve been attempting to figure out all night how I am going to convince her that we may leave Pelinom. De Velt told us both that we were not to leave the keep except without escort. She is going to know something is amiss if we are not accompanied by one of de Velt’s men, no matter what excuse I give her. Did that not occur to you?”
Caelen nodded. “I will be in the stables. I am to tell the lady that de Velt has given his permission for her to travel without escort.”
Keats pursed his lips with annoyance. “My daughter is not stupid. She will think this whole situation strange.”
“If you do not remove her this morning, I am under orders to kill her if she resists,” Caelen said plainly. “As her father, I would suggest you convince her that it is right that she should leave with you. I do not care how you do it, but do it. Have you decided where you will take her?”
Keats was still lingering on the command to kill Kellington should she resist leaving Pelinom, but he managed a nod. “Alnwick. I will return to Baron de Vesci and beg his forgiveness for having allowed his garrison to be taken.”
Caelen lifted a dark eyebrow. “Perhaps he will not be so forgiving. You could find yourself a prisoner once again.”
Keats didn’t say anymore. He watched the man descend the stairs, his mind moving to his daughter and the story had had been up all night concocting. Someday, when she was married to the right man, she would thank him for removing her from de Velt’s presence. He could only hope she didn’t hate him too much for what he was about to do.
*
The army left promptly at sunrise. Almost a thousand men marched from the gates of Pelinom, taking with them wagons, pack animals, and other baggage as armies do when on maneuvers. Kellington was too busy with the harvest and assigning laborers to notice until the very last of the army trickled out.
It was suddenly silent with all of the men gone. Kellington looked around Pelinom, thinking it looked very much like it did before Jax de Velt came. The sun was rising over the battlements, giving the keep a soft pink glow and she felt calm and settled in spite of the turmoil of the past several weeks. Perhaps it was just because her father was home or perhaps it was truly because most of the de Velt army had vanished. He had left a couple of hundred men behind to maintain the post, but for the most part, the castle was back to normal.
Two hours after sunrise, a
ll of Kellington’s workers were out in the orchards. She had sent the cook to supervise because the woman knew much about food and food stores, and had a big mouth besides, so she was the best person Kellington could think of to oversee such a thing. When all seven wagons and sixty laborers were in the orchards, she returned to the solar.
Seated back at her father’s desk, she was going over her list of laborers and figuring out the two who did not show. She was going to have to block out their names somehow so Jax did not see them and become set on some manner of punishment. Knowing him, it would involve fire and death, and she would not allow him to do it. But she grinned as she thought of him in the tavern that day, threatening to burn it down if the entire room didn’t volunteer for the orchard harvest. Though he had promised not to kill or main anyone, he had not promised not to scare people to death. With a smile still on her face, she shook her head as she moved to black out the names; the re-education of the Dark Lord was going to take a good deal of effort. But at least he was willing to try.
Keats entered the hall just as she was finishing with the second name. She looked up, smiling brightly at her father.
“Good morn, father,” she stood up and went to him, kissing him on the cheek. “Did you sleep well?”
He put his arm around her. “I did,” he replied. “And you?”
“Very well,” she moved back over to the desk. “We have sixty men and women in the orchards harvesting the apricots right now. I estimate that they can get most of the orchard finished today. Tomorrow, we will finish whatever is left and start on the cherries. Cook is out there supervising.”
Keats grunted. “She is probably testing the product,” he said. “Do you remember the last time we had her supervise a harvest? It was apples, as I recall. How many apples did we find with a bite taken out of them?”
Kellington giggled. “She denied that she did it.”
“But the marks had the exact shape of her teeth, including the two missing ones on the top. How could she possibly deny it?”
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume 1 Page 155
