The question came from behind and Julian turned to see Sir Ashton de Royans approaching. Ashton, or Ash as he was known, was the son of Sir Juston de Royans of Bowes Castle, about one hundred miles to the south. Ashton and his older brother, Tristan, were both at Pelinom these days and had been well before any trouble with the king started. Tristan was actually the bastard child of King HenryII and Alys of France. Juston had taken the boy in and adopted him so the boys were raised together. Ash had always considered Tristan his brother.
While Tristan had luscious auburn hair and a bristly beard, with big, white teeth and a temper to match those sharp looks, Ashton had the enormous blond comeliness of the de Royans men. He was bright, powerful, calm in almost any circumstance, and had a bit of a wicked streak him in that Julian loved.
They’d been best friends for years.
“A little,” Julian said, his eyes twinklingly wearily. “One does not sleep much when one’s home is being attacked.”
Ashton snorted softly. “Attacked,” he said with disdain. “The nuns from Kelso could have done a better job of laying siege. Why don’t they simply leave us alone? They’ll never get in.”
Julian flashed a grin, big dimples carving through both cheeks. “There is truth in that,” he said, looking up at the battlements that were heavily lined with men. “My father was just saying how weak this entire attack has been but considering how many castles they have bombarded before us, there is little wonder that they have worn down.”
Ashton shook his head. “They did not take any of the castles from here to Berwick,” he said. “I have a feeling they may haveexpended all of their energy on Berwick. That fortress is key to holding the north. If John had captured it, he could use the river to bring more troops into the north.”
Julian’s grin faded. “I know,” he said. “We know that Berwick held but not much beyond that.”
“Your father has not received any reports?”
“We’ve been locked tight for the past three days. Nothing has been able to come through.”
Ashton could feel Julian’s concern. The de Velt family was inordinately close for the most part with the exception of Cassian, the youngest son, who spent his time in the south with the House of de Lohr. Cassian had gone there to foster and had simply never returned. It was well known that a certain de Lohr daughter was holding him there, leaving Cole and Julian to support their father’s empire. Truthfully, Cole had his own agenda in life– garrison commander of Berwick, a wife, a family, and also serving William Marshal when the call came, but Julian was solely and exclusively devoted to his father.
He was, in fact, his father’s shadow.
Ashton had known Julian for a few years, ever since he was sent north by his father, Juston, to support Pelinom during a time of constant raids from reivers. Ashton had liked the north so much that he’d remained, enjoying Jax and Julian and Cole when he came around. He’d come with his older brother, Tristan, who was even now on the opposite side of the fortress, in the kitchen yard because there was a low, squat, and heavily defended postern gate there, the only possible way John’s men could infiltrate if they came across the moat and gained a foothold.
And no one would get in with Tristan at the gate.
In fact, Tristan had made himself indispensable to Jax since nearly his arrival, a bold and courageous man to the core. Julian was technically Jax’s second in command, but Tristan was olderand more aggressive and, truth be told, experienced. Julian was rather quiet, introverted, quieter still when Tristan began to gain steam. He was still young enough to be offended by forceful older knights, especially ones he saw as trying to take his father’s attention away. Deep down, Julian de Velt had a confidence problem and Tristan only made it worse. But Ashton knew something Tristan didn’t know.
Julian was smarter, better, and stronger than all of them.
He just needed the opportunity to show it.
“Well,” Ashton finally said. “I would not worry. John’s mercenaries are too exhausted to do much damage, so I do not imagine today will be much of an issue. I would suspect at some point in the next day or two, when they realize they cannot breach Pelinom, that they will simply move on to the next castle and leave us alone.”
Julian’s gaze came off of the battlements, focusing on Ashton again. “My father is not so sure,” he said. “He does not think that John will give up so easily. He needs a castle from which to launch his attacks into Scotland and Pelinom seems to be his last chance.”
Ashton shrugged. “There are others that he can probably take with more ease,” he said. “Smaller outposts.”
“My father seems to think he wants a larger castle, like Pelinom,” Julian said. “It would be a trophy. What a boast it would be for John to tell all of England that he captured The Dark Lord’s castle.”
Ashton grinned, suggesting such a thing was not possible. “I do not think he would like The Dark Lord’s reaction to having his castle taken,” he said. “He and his mercenaries might very well find themselves speared on poles and propped up like Christians at a crucifixion. In fact, here comes that terrifying man in the flesh.”
He was looking over Julian’s shoulder, nodding his head in that direction. Julian turned to see his father approaching from the stables, an enormous knight with a head of shoulder-length dark hair that was dusted heavily with gray these days. He was in full protection, the same protection he’d worn all of these years– heavy mail coat, hauberk, steel braces on his forearms and shins, and the de Velt boar tunic. When he caught sight of Julian and Ashton, he headed in their direction.
“I’ve had the thatching from the stables’ roof removed,” he said, fussing with the fasten of a glove that had come loose. “In fact, I’ve had all of the thatching and hay put into the niches in the outer wall to protect them in case we have any more flaming projectiles or men tossed over the wall at us.”
Julian couldn’t quite see the stables from where he stood, but he craned his neck to get a peek at what his father was talking about. “I could have done that,” he said. “You should not have to bother.”
“It was no bother.”
Julian cocked a dark blond eyebrow. “This is how the chain of command works, Papa,” he said seriously. “You command and I obey. Give me an order and I shall do it. You do not need to handle menial tasks like that. This is why you have a thousand men at your disposal.”
Jax chuckled as he looked at his middle son. Julian had his handsome features, but his blond coloring was purely his mother’s. “Is that why I have you?” he quipped. “Truly, Julian, I had no idea.”
Julian’s grin returned, now at his father. “At least let us earn our pay, Papa,” he said. “Otherwise, we will all grow fat and lazy like John and his mercenaries.”
Jax snorted, eyeing the battlements where the men were stationed. “I would not discount John and his mercenaries too easily,” he said. “You are speaking of a Plantagenet, a man whofought against his father and brothers, at any given time, from a very young age. John may be many things but, in battle, he is no fool. Do not underestimate him.”
