The Dark Spawn: Battle Lords of de Velt

Book 5: Battle Lords of de Velt

by Kathryn Le Veque

Synopsis

The son of The Dark Lord joins forces with the Executioner Knights to bring you the Medieval Romance you’ve been waiting for. It’s a no-holds-barred, dark, and passionate romance where the rules don’t apply.

Prepare to enter the Darkness.

Coleby de Velt is the firstborn son of the notorious Dark Lord, Ajax de Velt. He grew up idolizing his father - and knowing all about his history - and he has his father's dark streak. That makes him a perfect agent for William Marshal and the Executioner Knights. As William Marshal himself says, "Tis better to be at the Devil's right hand than in his path..." And Coleby is definitely the Devil.

He's the spawn of The Dark Lord and everything that goes with it.

When Coleby falls for an unusual woman, it’s with his whole heart. He doesn’t know how to do anything half-measure - and he doesn’t know how to protect himself. Lady Corisande “Cori” de Bourne, an accomplished woman of considerable talent, has bewitched him, and for a sweet moment in time, Coleby experiences something he’s never known before - a blooming love and a calm to his restless soul he can’t begin to describe. He believes he has finally found happiness. Perhaps the darkness has finally met with the light.

Until the Scots attack, and Cori is captured.

Unfortunately for the Scots, The Dark Spawn is unleashed. Coleby will stop at nothing to rescue his beloved Cori, but when he finally regains her with surprising ease, a horrible truth is revealed.

All is not as it seems.

Can Coleby forgive the unforgivable? Or will The Dark Spawn’s heart turn cold?

(Note: This is a dark romance with elements of Medieval brutality, as is expected in the Battle Lords of de Velt series. There is an unconventional love story with unconventional elements, but as always, a satisfying HEA.)

Battle Lords of de Velt series:

The Dark Lord

The Dark Lord’s First Christmas

Devil’s Dominion

Bay of Fear

The Dark Spawn

The Dark Angel (2021)

The Dark Conqueror (2022)

Publisher: Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

 

The siege of Fountainhall Castle

Seat of Alpin Canmore

 

 

It was a scene from old.

Jax de Velt and his sons, Cole and Julian, had roused their army and marched on the Scottish fortress of Fountainhall because William Marshal had ordered it for a very specific reason –

They wanted Fountainhall’s liege, Alpin Canmore.

Set amongst the gently rolling hills of the Scottish Lowlands, where the rocks and hills and purple heather came together to form a landscape like no other in the known world, Fountainhall was a feather in the cap of Scotland’s borders. Stout and strong, built from granite quarried near Edinburgh, it was a statement to the English kings with their eyes on the prize of Edinburgh and points beyond. It was the guard dog at the gateway into the land of the Scots.

Come and get yer pain, lads…

Fountainhall taunted the English.

But not today.

Today, the fortress was taking a beating from the army of the most feared man in England, Scotland, and Wales.

The Dark Lord and his horrific army had returned.

No one had seen death and destruction like this on the border in thirty years. Jax had been tamed by his overlord, the Earl of Northumberland, and he’d sworn to a peace treaty that had worked very well, at least for the English. They left him alone and he left them alone.

But the Scots hadn’t been part of that treaty.

Unfortunately for Canmore, Jax’s lands were threatened by raiders coming from Canmore lands but, even worse, there was the rumor of a massive and terrible treaty on the wind, one that would more than likely affect Jax before anyone else because his properties were on the Scots side of the border. Jax had learned of the terrible treaty from his own son, perhaps the best spy the world had ever seen.

Aye… Jax de Velt, the darkest knight of all, had raised a spy.

But he’d also raised one of the most fearsome knights of his generation in Coleby de Velt, and when it was determined that the threat against de Velt properties was too great, the prompt from William Marshal was all Jax needed to mobilize that army of killers that he kept within his tall, pale walls. However, it was more than simply moving against Canmore because of the threat, for The Marshal had a very specific purpose in mind.

A hostage.

And the de Velt army rolled into Scotland like a tempest.

It was chaos.

It was a relatively short march to Fountainhall from Pelinom Castle, seat of de Velt. With a swift horse, it would take a full day, but with an army, it took a day and a half. Truth be told, Jax hadn’t marched for battle in such a manner in over twenty-five years. Given that his two properties, Pelinom Castle and Foulburn Castle, were on the borders, he’d seen his share of action. Reiver activity surged from time to time, and he’d been called into English disputes throughout the years, but he never fought the battles he used to fight. The blood, the brutality, the senseless death and destruction. Those tactics were a thing of the past.

Until William Marshal asked him to unleash that monster again.

Not strangely, it hadn’t been difficult to draw on the beast he used to be. It had never really gone away. Cole and Julian knew what their father was capable of, just like everyone else, but they’d never seen it at that level until their foray into Scotland.

Then they became part of it.

The Scots never stood a chance.

Fountainhall Castle never really stood a chance, either. It was a walled and moated castle, but it wasn’t very large and the moat was hardly a deterrent to an English army with siege engines and ladders. Jax had brought everything he had with him and at noon on the day of his arrival, the siege of Fountainhall began in earnest.

Unfortunately for the occupants, it didn’t take very long.

Jax’s siege engines with iron projectiles blew holes in the yellow granite walls and destroyed the gatehouse. Once they were in the outer bailey, those same engines loaded up bombs of flaming oil and destroyed a second, smaller gatehouse that led into the complex of the castle. At that point, the army started to stream in and grab victims.

No mercy.

That was the order given by Jax who, in his sixth decade, was still an utterly terrifying and formidable knight. He was completely in control of his army and everything around him, and for sons who had never seen the monster their father had once been, they were seeing a new side to him that they didn’t recognize. It was startling and, admittedly, intimidating. About half of Jax’s forces were men who had been with him back in those days when The Dark Lord terrorized the borders, so they knew what to do when their liege gave the word and, like old times, they were also given permission to take anything of value.

Spoils of war.

Once the interior gatehouse was down, it was Cole and Julian’s task to find Alpin Canmore while their father and his army took care of the Scots. As they fought their way into the inner ward, prisoners were taken by the de Velt army all around them. Men who resisted were disabled on the spot. Not killed, but disabled, because a horrible death was planned for them. For the past six hours, Jax had men in the nearby woods, chopping down young trees and preparing the spikes that the Scots would soon be impaled with.

That was Jax de Velt’s primary mode of submission when it came to an enemy army. Cole and Julian could hear the screams of the men as the poles were shoved into their bodies and, like Jesus Christ was hung upon the cross for an audience, those impaled bodies began to go up along the road leading to Fountainhall for all to see. It was absolutely horrifying.

A macabre spectacle of dying scarecrows.

But Cole and Julian weren’t focused on what was going on around them, only what needed to be done. They were focused on the keep specifically, which was actually built into the walls of the castle. There were multiple doorways and stairs from what they could see, but Cole was confident he would find what they needed.

In fact, he’d already sent men ahead to gather what intelligence they would need to find their target, and he was mostly looking for the pair of brothers he had served with for the past two years, ever since they came to England from having served Count d’Acoz. The story made known to the English was that they were knights from The Levant who served Jax, but that wasn’t the truth. They had been sucked into William Marshal’s spy ring because Cole had recruited them. From the first, he’d realized their special talents. Men such as Addax and Essien al-Kort weren’t meant to be simply knights.

They were meant for greatness.

And he’d been proven right. While Cole had been entrenched in his mission for The Marshal with the Scottish royal court, Addax and Essien went right along with him. The Scots had loved the unique pair, which had only worked to their advantage. They became the darlings of the royal court, invited to every gathering, every exclusive feast. They were not only great warriors, but they could sing and entertain beautifully. The Scots were inviting and trusting with the men from the far-off and mysterious land of Kitara.

Now, as Fountainhall fell all around them, the results of that misplaced trust were evident.

It had been the Princes of Kitara who had made this moment possible.

“Cole!”

Cole heard his name, his head snapping to the right where Addax al-Kort was just emerging from a doorway with a wooden staircase that led into the bailey. Right behind him came his brother, Essien, and between them they were dragging a Scotsman dressed in female garb, a man alternately cursing them and pleading with them.

Cole and Julian headed in their direction.

“Canmore,” he said with satisfaction, inspecting the man. After a moment, he looked to Addax. “Excellent work. Where did you find him?”

Addax was an exceptionally muscular man, with features that had made many a maiden swoon. He was from a place of birth far from England, blessed with black hair and eyes the color of onyx.

“Cowering in the kitchens,” he said, his speech accented because the language he was speaking was not his native language. “He thought he could dress as a wench and we would pass him over, but his ugly legs gave him away.”

“I saw them first,” Essien insisted, a gloriously handsome brother a few years younger than Addax. “I’ve seen women’s legs from here to Alexandria, and nothing could convince me that those hairy, skinny limbs belonged to a woman.”

Cole looked straight to Alpin’s legs, which were pasty, spindly, and covered with a dark matting of hair. He lifted an eyebrow. “How astute of you, Es.”

The young knight frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Cole pointed to the legs. “A blind man could have seen these are not the legs of a woman,” he said sarcastically, poking at the man’s ego. But he took pity on him quickly because he’d just accomplished a difficult task. “But excellent work, both of you. The Marshal shall hear of your skill. He will be pleased.”

Addax grinned as Essien frowned, looking between Cole and his brother, not entirely pleased that he wasn’t getting all the credit. He was the younger, more excitable brother when compared to Addax’s cool strength or Cole’s unflappable demeanor, but he considered himself just as fine a warrior. He was about to say so when he caught sight of what was going on near the gatehouse and the annoyance in his eyes faded. There was virtually no fighting that he could see, but there was a good deal of noise going on.

Howls of pain.

A sense of foreboding crept over him.

“What is happening out there?” he asked. “What is… why all the screaming?”

Cole didn’t turn around to see what he meant. He knew. “The Dark Lord is doing what he does best,” he said evenly. “I told you what would happen with this siege, Es. That has not changed. My father has been ordered to destroy this castle and that is exactly what he is doing.”

Essien could hear that cries of agony. They all could. He was young and emotional, and when he looked at his brother to see what he thought of what was happening, Addax refused to look at him.

“Ad?” he said, sounding concerned. “Did you understand… surely there is some reason why…”

Addax cut him off. “Warfare makes barbarians of us all,” he muttered, glancing at Cole. “You have seen enough of it to know that. This is the moment we have worked for and, now, it has begun. We told you this would happen. Everything we have strived for has come to fruition. For complete victory, these actions are necessary.”

Essien could see through the gatehouse, watching as four of de Velt’s men rammed a post into the rear of a soldier, ramming it all the way in so it emerged from his belly. Then the soldier was propped up on the side of the road, still alive, placed next to his comrades.

Essien had to take a deep breath.

Truth be told, it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever seen, because he’d seen the Muslims with Saladin’s army in The Levant do something similar. When he’d been a boy fleeing his own country of Kitara, he’d see things like that and worse still. Even so, the method was shocking in its brutality. It was true that Cole and Addax had told him this would be the result of Jax de Velt’s scorched earth campaign, but to see it in practice gave him pause. To a sensitive soul like Horus Essien Mai al-Kort, horrific brutality was sometimes difficult for him to swallow.

He’d seen too much of it.

“Bastards,” Alpin snarled, spittle flying from his lips as he distracted the warriors from what was happening around them. “Ye’re all bastards. Why are ye doing this tae me?”

He was speaking of the al-Kort brothers. Alpin knew them to be fixtures in royal circles, favorites of the nobles, so the fact that they wrested him from his hiding place was truly perplexing. He had no idea why they were there. As Essien continued to wrestle with the situation outside the gates, Cole appraised Alpin without a hint of emotion.

“Canmore,” he said. “You know why we are here, do you not?”

Alpin eyed Cole, shaken and bewildered. “Why do ye speak like that?” he said, referring to the fact that Cole had no Scots accent, something he’d only known from the man from the beginning of their association. “What is happening here? Ye’re the king’s protector, the man called MacEacharn!”

“Not anymore,” Cole said flatly. “My tenure with William is finished. And I am not MacEacharn.”

“No’ MacEacharn?”

“Nay,” Cole said. “I am English and this is my father’s army. We’ve come for you, Alpin. Would you care to guess why?”

Alpin genuinely had no idea. In fact, the entire situation had him baffled. Earlier that day, an army approached from the south, a fairly large army that his men identified as English and, suddenly, he found himself under siege. His men barely had time to secure the outer gatehouse when the army swarmed and siege engines were brought forth. A bombardment worthy of the Crusades took place after that, with flaming projectiles and men scaling walls. When it had become clear that the army would breach the inner ward, Alpin and a few of his men had dressed as women and hid in the kitchens. He didn’t even know what had happened to those men.

At the moment, he was only concerned for himself.

Something very bad was happening.

“Sassenach?” Alpin spit out. “I dunna understand any of this. Who are ye? What have ye done?”

Cole leaned in to him. “My name is Cole de Velt,” he said quietly. “My father is Ajax de Velt, Baron Blackadder and lord of Pelinom Castle. Surely you have heard of him.”

A gleam of recognition came to Alpin’s eye. “De Velt?” he repeated. “Not The Dark Lord?”

“The same.”

The light of understanding was beginning to flame for Alpin. “God’s Teeth, MacEacharn… ye’re no’ Scots?”

“I am not Scots.”

“A de Velt?”

“Aye, I am a de Velt.”

Two years of being a spy to the royal Scots court was just revealed and things began to come clear for Alpin Canmore. He looked at Addax and Essien, understanding they were in on it, too. He began to realize just how much trouble he was in and he instinctively stepped back and away from Cole, but he was being held firmly so he had nowhere to go. Then he looked beyond Cole to the gatehouse and he could see his men being put on poles.

Those screams were something that cut him to the bone.

“God,” he muttered, looking at Cole with utter fear in his expression. “What do ye want from me? Why are ye doing this?”

Cole didn’t answer him. He turned for the gatehouse and jerked his head at Addax and Essien, who followed him from the inner ward, dragging Alpin past his own men who were being impaled. His men, seeing him, screamed for help if they were able, begging Alpin to save them.

But Alpin couldn’t even save himself.

In the end, it was too much for him to take. He lowered his head and wept as Addax and Essien dragged him back to the de Velt encampment and tied him to a post. Alpin was certain he was going to be burned alive but, oddly enough, they left him there with Essien as his guard. No flames, no death.

At least, not yet.

As Alpin Canmore listened to the cries of agony from his men, Cole and Addax returned to the bedlam that was happening at Fountainhall. They found Jax standing on the fringe, watching the activity, but not actively participating. He was simply overseeing everything with the ease of a man overseeing something far simpler, like the harvest of his crops or the training of his men. It was all business to him and Jax held an expression that suggested he wasn’t troubled by any of it.

He’d done this kind of thing before.

Next to him stood a commander he’d had with him for many years. Atreus le Velle had been at Jax’s side during the entire conquest of the Welsh Marches those years ago, and he had been at Jax’s side when he conquered Pelinom Castle. He’d known Jax since childhood and had simply never left him, not even to pursue personal gain or adventure. An innate sense of loyalty kept him with Jax, a friendship that was deeper than most.

Atreus was looking at the carnage going on with the same bland expression Jax had.

“We have him, Papa,” Cole said as he walked up on the pair. “He’s back in camp with Essien as guard. Addax and Essien captured him quite ably.”

Jax and Atreus turned to him. “He is unharmed?” Jax asked.

Cole nodded. “Not a scratch,” he said. “Shall I take him straight to The Keld?”

Jax pondered that question for a moment. He’d gone through a lot of trouble today simply to rush his captive off to another man’s castle. “Tomorrow,” he finally said. “I intend to interrogate the man myself tonight. I realize that the Alastor de Bourne is involved in this situation more than I am, but I am still part of it. We are under threat, too, and we are much closer to the Scots army should they decide to march, so I want to know what this Alpin Canmore knows. If I must protect myself, then I want to know when hell is coming before de Bourne and The Marshal have their way with him. There may be nothing left by the time they are finished.”

“You know everything I know to this point,” Cole said, lowering his voice. “You know everything I’ve been gathering over the past two years. Unfortunately, my position next to the king only gave me partial information. There were certain things I did not know that Canmore can hopefully provide. But what we know is this – the Scots, supported by the Norse Earls of Orkney and Shetland, intend to invade England and Alpin Canmore has been sending missives to the House of de Bourne on behalf of William the Lion, as the descendants of the Kings of Northumbria, because the Scots want de Bourne to join their rebellion. They need a strong house inside of Northumberland if they are to succeed.”

“But de Bourne has refused them.”

“He has, but William the Lion does not yet know that,” Cole stressed. “As far as I know, de Bourne has not yet sent a reply to his offer. He sent word to The Marshal first. Therefore, if the Scots army comes… when they come… Pelinom is in their path.”

Jax nodded patiently. “I understand that,” he said. “That is why The Marshal gave me permission to send a message to the Scots and the Earls of Orkney on behalf of all of England in the form of my army. I have shown them what will happen should they carry out this scheme. But what I want to know is when. When do they plan on coming?”

Cole lifted his eyebrows. “That is why we have captured Alpin,” he said. “That is the only thing we do not know – the time for such things. We do not know when and we do not know from where. For all we know, the Norsemen will come in through Berwick tomorrow. They can bring their longships down the River Tweed and destroy a great deal. This is what Alpin must tell us, Papa. I’m sure he knows.”

Jax simply nodded, returning his attention to an entirely new row of impaled men going up along the western side of the road. Most were already dead, but they were going up nonetheless. Cole turned to watch the poles go up, his thoughts shifting from the prisoner they’d captured to the dirty deeds his father was engaging in. The Scots weren’t going down without a fight. They’d resisted as much as they could, but the de Velt army was too big and quickly overwhelmed any struggle. The Scots were, therefore, being as noisy as they could, bellowing and screaming as they were put on poles.

It made for a loud and disturbing chorus.

“I’ve not had to use tactics like this since before you were born, Cole,” Jax said as if reading Cole’s thoughts. “Something that was a means to an end, as this is. Your mother… she is not happy about what I am doing this day. But, as I told her, it is necessary.”

Cole looked at him. “Never did I question your tactics,” he said. “You need not explain yourself to me. I understand completely why you must do this.”

Jax glanced at him. “Then explain it to me,” he said, a warm glimmer in his eyes. “Tell me why I have done this, lad.”

Jax wanted to see if his son truly understood and Cole was aware of that. It was important for the father-son relationship that Cole understood that his father wasn’t being brutal for brutality’s sake. He was doing it with an end result in mind, to protect those they loved and lands they’d worked hard for. Therefore, Cole’s gaze lingered on his father a moment before turning to the screaming, writhing men.

“They are a threat,” he said simply. “Threats against Mother and my sisters, Effie and Addie. If you do not kill them, they may have the chance to kill my mothers and sisters.”

“And not you?”

Cole shook his head. “I can defend myself. What you are doing is defending my mother and sisters. It is defending what belongs to you and what you love, the life you have built. Your family.”

As Jax mulled over his son’s answer, Atreus spoke up. A wise old man, and strangely gentle given the fact that he was as much of a barbarian twenty-five years ago as Jax ever was.

His blue-eyed gaze fixed on Cole.

“Well put, Coleby,” he said, perhaps one of the only people who called Cole by his full name, which was his mother’s maiden name. “The methods of elimination are the same, but back in the day when your father was bent on conquest, the reasons behind these actions differed.”

Cole cocked his head curiously. “How so?”

Atreus gestured to a big, hairy Scotsman who was resisting about a dozen soldiers who were trying to impale him. “See that man there?” he said. “Twenty-five years ago, your father would have destroyed him because he wanted what that man had. It was a method of eliminating a threat to his greed. But now… now he does it to eliminate the threat to what he has. Do you not think that Scots bastard would kill your mother and sisters given the chance? Of course he would. Every man who is part of Fountainhall’s army was already preparing to do just that. Therefore, your father is protecting what he has and, in that aspect, this is not a barbaric end for these fools. It is a just ending to the plans they were preparing to follow.”

Cole nodded faintly. “I’ve spent the past two years learning about these men, sitting side by side with them at a feasting table and listening to them,” he said. Then, he gestured to Addax. “Ad has heard as much as I have, if not more. Truthfully, when The Marshal tasked me with spying on the Scots royal court, it was with the intention of keeping watch over their activities. I did not have any particular directive other than to observe and report. The alliance with the Earls of Orkney… that was a surprise. I thank God every day that I was in the right place at the right time to learn of something that would directly affect my family.”

Jax put a hand on his son’s very big shoulder. “As am I,” he said. “You have saved us, Cole. I am proud of you. I am proud of you all.”

He meant Addax and Essien, something that made Addax smile modestly. “It has been an honor, my lord,” he said.

“What will you do now?” Atreus asked. “Now that your days of infiltrating the royal court are finished, surely you must have a plan for your future. It is not as if you can return to William the Lion. He’ll hang you both if he sees you.”

Cole and Addax grinned. “I do not know,” Cole said honestly. “I assumed I would return to my father’s army to be used whenever The Marshal had the need.”

“And me,” Addax said. “I have found my home with Cole and the House of de Velt, and I do not wish to leave it. My brother and I rather like England.”

Atreus looked to the man with eyes as black as night. “Someone told me that you had spent some time on the Flemish tournament circuit,” he said. “You do not wish to go back to that foolery? It can make you quite rich.”

Addax laughed softly. “I have done many things in my life,” he said. “Spending a couple of years in the tournament circuit was simply one experience. Since leaving my home many years ago, I have had the opportunity to do a great many things. Talent, and the ability to learn quickly, will open up the world to you providing other men feel the same way. I have been very fortunate that the Christian knights have seen value in who and what I am.”

“And what are you?”

“A prince of my people,” Addax said with a twinkle to his eyes. “The son of a king who no longer rules, but a son nonetheless. My father was called Qara Ejder to our people and that is the name I adopted on the tournament circuit as a way of keeping him alive. I was allowed to compete because of the testimony of Count d’Acoz. He explained to the marshals of my lineage and bloodlines. In fact, d’Acoz knighted me himself. He said no man was more worthy of the knighthood than Qara Ejder.”

Atreus was listening intently. “What does that mean?”

“The Black Dragon,” Cole answered for him. “He was known in the tournament circuit as The Black Dragon. And they called Essien the God of Vengeance.”

Atreus’ eyebrows lifted. “That seems both bold and embittered,” he said. “Why should they call him that? Essien has never struck me as being a vengeful man.”

“Because his name, by birth, is Horus,” Addax replied. “Horus is the ancient god of vengeance, a symbol of power to my mother’s people. So when Essien also competed in tournaments or sport, he was known as the God of Vengeance. It sounds much more impressive than The Little Princeling, which is what I wanted to call him.”

Atreus chuckled. “I find your histories fascinating,” he said, but quickly sobered. “I would like to hear more of it when this task is finished. I’ve not had much opportunity to speak with you and I would like to.”

Addax dipped his head graciously, but he, too, realized this wasn’t the place for such a casual conversation. They were at the culmination of two years’ worth of work, a moment of great brutality and great violence.

There would be time enough for introspective conversation later.

“What more would you have of Addax and me, Papa?” Cole asked, watching his father’s men finally gain the upper hand on the big, hairy Scotsman. “Is there something else you would like us to do?”

Jax nodded. “Secure Fountainhall,” he said. “This place is deep in Scottish territory and I cannot spare the manpower to try and hold it, so we are going to strip it and burn it. Take everything of value and burn it to the ground so that it is unusable for years to come. Does Canmore have a wife?”

Cole nodded. “He does.”

“Have you seen her today?”

Cole shook his head even as he looked at the enemies impaled upon the poles that were lining the road. “I do not believe so,” he said. “I have only met her once, a big woman with flaming red hair.”

“Find her and bring her to me.”

“I will,” Cole said. “Anything else?”

Jax nodded. “I will spare one of Canmore’s men to tell people what has happened here,” he said. “Someone must be witness to this great destruction and who brought it about. Select that man and bring him to me along with the wife.”

Cole pulled tight his gauntlets, preparing to carry out his father’s directive. “And where will you be?”

Jax turned his head in the direction of his encampment, his eyes glimmering in the light of the midafternoon sun. He had unique eye coloring, something that only served to enhance his diabolical and ruthless reputation. His left eye was muddy-brown and the right eye, while mostly of the same muddy color, had a huge splash of bright green in it. The man had two different-colored eyes, something he’d inherited from his father and his father before him.

Devil eyes, were the whispers.

Jax’s sons had all inherited it to a certain degree, including Cole. He had his mother’s golden-brown eyes, but they were encircled with a bright green ring. His brother, Julian, had their father’s eyes almost exactly, and Cassian, their youngest brother, had it also but it was far less pronounced. Two of the three girls had avoided that trait, but the youngest one, Addington, had a fascinating mix of the muddy-brown and the green, evenly patterned in both eyes.

They were eyes that defined the de Velt family.

And it was the eyes of Jax himself that were pondering the distant encampment and his son’s question.

“I will be with our captive,” he said after a moment. “Find me there.”

Cole and Addax nodded, heading off towards the smoking fortress, leaving Atreus to oversee the dissolution of the Scots army as Jax headed back to the encampment. It was tucked back in the same small forest that gave up its small, younger trees so Jax’s army could make pikes. As he approached, he could see one corner of the forest that had been stripped, with the foliage mashed. Men were still pulling saplings out of the undergrowth and several of them were turning the ends into sharp points with great axes.

Just like old times.

Several tents had already been erected in the encampment, including a tent that housed the wounded. Though the battle hadn’t been particularly fierce, there were the inevitable wounded in the tent, men being tended to by a surgeon who had come to Jax through his liege, de Vesci. Piers Michelson used to be a knight for de Vesci many years ago, but he’d found his calling in tending the wounded and healing the sick. He could see Piers, his gray hair pulled back to the nape of his neck, bent over a man who had damaged an eye. But that glimpse was fleeting as he entered his own tent.

The first thing he saw was Essien.

Tall and broad-shouldered, Essien immediately bolted to his feet when Jax entered.

“My lord,” he said. “Your prisoner is secure.”

Jax’s gaze lingered on the young man. “Thanks to you, I am told,” he said. “Excellent work, Essien.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Jax genuinely liked the young knight who had seen so much, and suffered through so much, even at his young age. It had only made him stronger. Jax wasn’t usually sympathetic to younger knights, mostly because they looked at him as something either to be feared or challenged, but Essien showed him nothing but respect.

He received that in return.

“It was most fortunate when my old friend d’Acoz sent you to my service,” he said. “Of course, he mentioned something about a compromised young woman and an irate father, and sending you to safety in England, but it was nonetheless a fortuitous happening for me. I do not regret it.”

Essien struggled not to grin, a faint blush coming to his smooth cheeks. “Nor I, my lord.”

Jax fought off a grin at the randy young knight and the real reason he and his brother had come to England, but he was all business as he turned to Alpin, still trussed up on a pole. His expression darkened as he went to stand in front of the man, looking him over.

The tension in the air bloomed, becoming heavy and uncomfortable. Fear was there as well because when dealing with The Dark Lord, there was no telling what the man would do. More than any knight in England, Jax de Velt was a man to be feared because of his past deeds, deeds he was more than willing to resurrect should the need arise.

“You are Alpin Canmore?” he finally asked.

Alpin jumped at the sound of his voice, filled with fear that the enormous warrior with two-colored eyes was addressing him.

“I am,” he said, his voice quivering. “Who are ye?”

Jax was looking at him with intense scrutiny. ““I am de Velt,” he said. “Fountainhall Castle has been destroyed and, by all rights, belongs to me. You are now my prisoner. Do you understand this?”

Alpin swallowed hard. He’d just heard the confirmation of his worst nightmare. “I do,” he said. “The man I knew as MacEacharn now tells me his name is de Velt.”

Jax nodded. “He is,” he said. “He is my son. He infiltrated your royal court. If you do not understand what that means, it means that he was spying on you and your king. Do you understand that I have the power of life and death over you, Canmore?”

Alpin was struggling not to give in to his utter terror. “What do ye want with me?” he demanded. “I’ve no’ done anything tae ye. I’ve never attacked yer lands or yer kin. Why did ye do this tae me?”

Jax glanced at Essien, tilting his head towards the tent entry and silently inviting the man to leave. Essien took the hint and quickly vacated. When he was gone, Jax pulled up a sturdy three-legged stool and planted his bulk on it. He focused on Alpin, who was shivering and bound.

“Because you are part of a plot against me,” he said after a moment. “Do not deny it, for I know it to be true. You are part of your king’s plot with the Earls of Orkney to try and regain Northumberland. Now, I do not fault you your greed or ambition. If anyone understands that, it is I. However, your greed and ambition put my land and my family at risk. This, I cannot allow. Do you understand me so far?”

Alpin was staring at him. More like glaring at him. “I’ve no’ plotted against ye, de Velt.”

Jax’s dark eyebrows lifted. “But you were part of those gatherings,” he said. “The gatherings where the scheme to control Northumberland was planned in secret. You were witnessed there, so you cannot deny it. It would be a lie and I do not tolerate liars.”

Alpin’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer before looking away. “Ye do what ye must tae keep yer country safe and strong,” he said. “So do I.”

“That is reasonable,” Jax said. “But I was told that your plans included sweeping east to Coldstream and the bridge. ‘Tis the easiest way into England unless you choose to go through Gretna. Now, there are a dozen other smaller bridges across the River Tweed, but in order for your armies to flood into England from Coldstream, you would have to pass through my lands. Would you bypass my castles when you did so?”

Alpin knew the answer to that question. He still wouldn’t look at Jax.

“Ye’re Sassenach upon Scot lands,” he said. “Ye dinna belong here.”

“Mayhap not, but they are mine nonetheless,” Jax said. “It would be much easier if we knew the details of William the Lion’s invasion plans, Canmore. We would be better able to protect ourselves. When does he expect to execute his intentions?”

The conversation, in truth, was a little strange. Jax was speaking almost pleasantly, as if this were nothing more than a light discourse. But Alpin wasn’t fooled.

“I canna help ye,” he muttered.

“That’s odd,” Jax said. “Because you are the one who has been sending missives to Alastor de Bourne, asking him to join the Scots rebellion. As descendants from the Kings of Northumbria, I believe you told him that it was his duty to rebel against the Normans who took his kingdom away. Do not look so surprised; I know everything. As do many other people. Your missives are no secret.”

Alpin did look surprised because he was. He’d been sending them for months now, but he hadn’t received any reply. Now, he evidently had that reply.

De Bourne had betrayed him.

It was a sickening realization.

Jax could see that he had the man off-balance and he planned to continue that interrogation tactic. The more he could rattle Alpin, the better.

“I have a family to protect, Canmore,” he said. “You have seen what I am capable of, yet you refuse to tell me what I wish to know? I will stop putting your men on poles this very minute if you tell me what I wish to know. So in a sense, you are responsible for their deaths. Stop killing them, Canmore. The power is yours.”

They could hear the distant screams of agony as more of Canmore’s men were impaled on spikes. Jax knew that it must have been excruciating for Canmore to hear those ghastly sounds, so he backed off his interrogation. He wanted Canmore to ponder his question, and his statement, with those cries of pain searing into his brain.

In truth, he was waiting for the wife to appear.

Then things would get interesting.

As Alpin sat on the cold ground and shivered, Jax had soldiers bring in a brazier and food. They brought glowing coals for the bronze brazier, heating up the metal and staving off the chill in the tent as Jax sat in a comfortable chair and ate a meal right in front of his prisoner. He drank wine, ate cheese and boiled beef, and generally acted as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

But he was biding his time.

More time passed. The screams and cries grew weaker as the afternoon progressed, but in its place grew a silence that was ghastly and deafening. The wind shifted and the smell of blood was on the air. Jax had eaten his fill of is meal, sitting with Alpin in complete silence, listening to the world go on around them outside the tent. Jax had no idea where Essien had gone, but he was thinking about looking outside of the tent flap to see if he could spy Essien, or even Cole or Addax at that point, when the tent flap flew back and knights appeared.

Cole, Addax, and Essien entered the tent with a man and woman between the three of them. Jax stood up as Addax and Essien shoved the pair to their knees.

“Meet Alpin’s wife,” Cole said. “This is Margit. The man next to her is someone we found cowering in the stables before we burned them to the ground. His name is Baloch, he says.”

The woman took one look at Alpin, bound to a pole, and burst into tears. The man next to her was only slightly more composed.

“Mercy, m’laird!” he cried. “Show mercy, please! I take care of my mother and I’m all she has! Please dunna kill me!”

Jax gazed at the pair quite unemotionally before turning to Alpin.

“Do you know this man?” he asked.

Alpin was looking at the two captives as if he were going to become sick. “Aye,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

“Who is he to you?”

“A cousin.”

Jax’s focus lingered on him a moment before he turned to his son. “Restrain him,” he said quietly. “Expose one hand upon the tabletop.”

Cole and Addax lifted the pleading man to his feet, dragging him over to the only table in the tent, the one that Jax had eaten his meal from. As the man cried and begged for his life, they slammed him down onto the chair and extended his right arm onto the table, holding it down. When everything was in position, Jax turned to Alpin.

“I am going to ask you a question,” he said. “And for every question you refuse to answer, your cousin is going to lose a finger. When all of his fingers are gone, he’ll lose a hand. When the hands are gone, he’ll lose the lower part of an arm. When those are gone, I will start on his toes and repeat the process. You will slowly watch him hacked to death and when I am finished with him, I will do the same thing to your wife. Do you understand what I am telling you so far?”

Alpin was pale with terror. “Ye wouldna do such a thing,” he said. “’Tis barbaric and un-Christian. Ye canna do such a thing tae a man!”

“I can and I will.”

“’Tis uncivilized!”

“It is the way of things,” Jax said simply. “Now, I asked you a question earlier, one you refused to answer. I shall ask you again, just once. If you do not answer me, your cousin shall have one less finger. Is this in any way unclear?”

“I –!”

“When does William and Orkney expect to execute their intentions?”

Alpin’s mouth worked as if he were going to answer swiftly but, ultimately, he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “Ye dunna know… I… why would ye ask me such a question?” he stammered. “Do ye think the king himself takes me intae his confidence? I’m no’ a great laird!”

Jax looked over at Cole, who took the hint. He gave a short nod to Addax, who produced an enormous dagger with a serrated edge. It was a beautiful weapon, made from Damascus steel. Quicker than the blink of an eye, Addax cut off the captive’s smallest finger on his right hand. As the man screamed in agony, Addax picked up the digit and walked it over to Alpin, taking the freshly cut side of it and smearing it on the side of his cheek.

Alpin vomited all down the front of his tunic.

Addax tossed the finger onto his lap.

Between the screaming of the cousin, the shrieking of the wife, and Alpin’s gasps of terror, the tent had quickly become a chaotic place. Jax, completely unruffled in the face of such upheaval, continued to face Alpin.

“When do William and Orkney expect to execute their intentions?” he asked again.

Alpin was beginning to grow hysterical as his cousin screamed and wept, his arm still stretched out on the table and bleeding profusely. No one was making any attempt to stop the blood flow.

“I dunna know!” Alpin cried.

Jax looked at Addax, who immediately hacked off the next finger. Alpin’s wife began screaming at the top of her lungs, wildly, as Alpin’s cousin bellowed in agony and begged for mercy. Addax picked up the finger he’d just cut off and dropped it down Alpin’s tunic. The man gagged again as the finger got caught up in the folds of his tunic, holding it against the flesh of his belly.

“Their intentions, Canmore,” Jax said quite emotionlessly. “I want to know what they are planning. Your cousin only has eight fingers left.”

“Tell him!” the wife screamed. “For the love of God, Alpin, tell him!”

Jax looked at Cole and then to the wife, silently relaying the command. Cole went over to the old woman with the red hair and unsheathed his dagger. The wife screamed at the top of her lungs, knowing her death was at hand, and Alpin began to scream as well.

“No more!” he cried. “Dunna touch her! I’ll tell ye, ye Sassenach bastards, but dunna touch her. Cut her and I’ll take everything ye want tae know tae my grave!”

Jax called off Cole, who immediately moved away from the woman as she collapsed in a dead faint. He then collected a chair and pulled it up in front of Alpin, looking at the man seriously.

“Excellent,” he said. “That was a wise decision. When is William planning to execute his plans?”

Alpin glared him, a look of pure hatred, but his hatred was tempered by his sense of self-preservation. “What assurances do I have that ye’ll no’ kill my wife after I’ve told ye want ye want tae know?”

Jax shook his head. “You have none,” he said. “But I will give you my word. Answer my questions and I will spare you and your wife and your cousin.”

“And his hand? Someone needs tae tend his hand.”

“Answer my question and I will make sure he is adequately tended.”

Alpin looked at his wife, and his cousin, and it was as if all of his bones suddenly disappeared. He seemed to fold in on himself, his chin dropping to his chest, as if every last piece of defiance and courage slipped quietly away along with the bones.

He was a shell.

Pride held out only so long when faced with such destruction.

“Yer question has many answers,” he mumbled. “Ask me something specific and I’ll tell ye what I can. But if I tell ye I dunna know, then it’s the truth. The Rough doesna take me intae his confidence. I know what I do because I’m a border laird and nothing more.”

The Rough was another name used for the King of Scotland, a name that reflected his general methodology and manners, and Jax pondered his next question. He had Alpin where he wanted him in a relatively short amount of time. He thought it would take longer, but given the man’s wife was under threat, the resistance ended fairly quickly.

And to his advantage.

As he pondered his next move, Cole stepped forward. He’d been privy to some of the more general gatherings purely by virtue of his relationship with the royal court, so he knew some of the information, things he told his father.

As he’d said, it was the smaller details that had escaped him, and one detail in particular.

“When is the invasion coming?” he asked. “When do the Scots plan to move south?”

In the end, Jax got his information.

By morning, the cousin with the missing fingers had been released with a message to take to William the Rough. Jax let Alpin languish for a couple of days with little food and even less sleep before sending Cole, Addax, and Essien to escort the man south to the mighty de Bourne stronghold known as The Keld for further interrogation.

A naturally suspicious man, Jax suspected that the worst was yet to come.

And they had to be ready.