Allaston still had a hand over her mouth, trying not to sob aloud. “I… I was given clothing to wear,” she whispered tightly. “I was told that the lady of the castle had left it behind so I did not think anything of wearing it. I had nothing else so I took it.”
Blandings nodded, noting the lavender dress she was wearing. “That belonged to Lady Miette,” he said. “She was a kind lady. She would not mind you having it, I am sure.”
Allaston simply nodded, struggling against outright sobs. The hand was still over her mouth. “I will pray for her and for her family,” she whispered. “I will pray for her soul and for her forgiveness.”
Blandings watched her devastated reaction to the truth. He was touched, feeling somehow as if they both shared the same sorrow now. He’d been terrified to speak with her for two weeks. Now, he was no longer afraid. After hearing the circumstances behind her coming to Cloryn, he was a bit more understanding. She wasn’t de Llion’s whore, as he had feared. She didn’t have the man’s ear. She was a prisoner just like the rest of them. He began to feel guilty for having avoided her so much.
“If you need any assistance, my lady,” he ventured. “Please call upon me or my son. We will help you.”
Allaston simply nodded but her head inevitably turned in the direction of the gatehouse and thoughts of what lay beyond.“Sweet Jesus,” she breathed. “All of those people out there, now rotting in the sun.”
Blandings nodded sadly. “Aye, my lady.”
“They must be buried.”
Blandings sighed softly, turning back to his boiling pot. “Only the new lord of Cloryn can order that,” he said. “If I could, I would bury every one of them with my own hands, but I cannot move beyond the kitchens. They will kill me and I have no desire to end up impaled.”
Allaston looked at him, wiping the remainder of the tears off her face. The initial horror had passed, now she was left with a deep and abiding disgust. She was utterly revolted by all of it. “I do not fault you for that,” she said. “But to leave them out there to rot… it is barbaric at the very least.”
Blandings wanted to discourage her before she got herself in trouble. “I would not disturb the dead, my lady,” he said. “They are dead, after all. Their souls are with God and the body is just an empty shell. Do not risk your life over empty shells. The new lord of Cloryn wants them there ’else he would have taken them down already.”
It was wise advice coming from a servant. Allaston thought on it a moment, finally nodding her head reluctantly. “I am sure you are correct,” she said, eyeing the old man. “Thank you for telling me all of this. I would not have known otherwise. You have been very helpful.”
Blandings nodded, watching her as she once more turned her attention towards the gatehouse, closing her eyes for a brief moment before crossing herself.
“I will be done with these bones in a little while,” he said, taking a stir at the pot again. “If you need anything done, you need only tell me. I will do it.”
Allaston looked at the man, a grim smile on her lips. “My thanks,” she said, taking a deep breath and squaring hershoulders. She was trying not to linger on the horror outside of the gates now that she knew about it, but she found it to be an impossible task. “I will be in the kitchen with the cook. We have a pig to prepare.”
Blandings returned her smile before nodding and returning to his stirring. Allaston took a couple of steps in the direction of the kitchen before coming to a halt and returning her attention to the man.
“I intend to speak with de Llion about the dead outside the walls,” she said. “Rest assured that I will not mention who has told me. I will go to my grave before I tell him what you and I have discussed.”
Blandings nodded. “Thank you, my lady.”
Allaston nodded her head, briefly, before resuming her walk towards the kitchen. All the while, however, her mind was filled with the army of dead outside the walls and a lovely lady named Miette. She couldn’t get it out of her mind. Now, she was coming to realize the true scope of de Llion’s brutality and the realization brought her great fear. He had told her once, back in those dark days when she was in Cloryn’s vault, of the atrocities her father had committed, atrocities that were very much the same thing Bretton was committing.Men impaled on spikes. It made her shudder just to think about it. Whatever her father had done those years ago, Bretton was now doing, too.
Allaston recalled him saying something to her once, something that now made a good deal of sense.
I have been called the Devil.
Now, she knew why.
CHAPTER NINE
Late July
Twenty-eight days afterleaving Cloryn for Rhayder Castle, Bretton was finally returning.
It was early morning on a clear day that already promised to be warm. The past few weeks had been unusually warm, something that he would have enjoyed had he not had to wear layers of wool and mail, which made him sweat and soaked everything. He was filthy, sweaty, and smelly, and he was eager to return to Cloryn to celebrate his latest victory. But that wasn’t the only reason he was eager to return.
That de Velt daughter. He couldn’t stop thinking of her. She’d been on his mind every day, mostly in the early morning or when he finally decided to get a few hours of sleep at night. The dark hair and pale green eyes reached out to him, enticing him until he could hardly think of anything else. In the midst of a battle campaign, it had been an annoying and unwelcome diversion, but it was one he was unable to stop. Even as they had secured Rhayder Castle, which had taken longer than expected,he found his attention turning to the trip back to Cloryn because Allaston was there.
So he’d spent sixteen days laying siege to Rhayder Castle before finally being able to mount the walls. It had been tricky due to the moat surrounding it. It had taken days to build platforms that extended across the narrow but deep moat, enough so that they could move in ladders to mount the walls. That was his main mode of operation, bypassing the gatehouse and going for the walls because they were often less protected than the gatehouse. If one could get up and over them, then it was much easier than trying to smash through a portcullis. He also made the best of postern gates, of which Rhayder had one. While some men used grappling hooks and ladders to mount the fifteen-foot-high walls, Dallan and Teague had managed to compromise the postern gate. Once the gate was open and his men flooded in, it was a short time before the drawbridge was lowered.
After sixteen days of besieging Rhayder Castle, when it fell, it fell quickly. Bretton had the entire castle secured within hours. Then he’d spent an additional eight days destroying the lord of Rhayder’s army and establishing his own rule. There was a rather large village near Rhayder and he had made sure to convene a meeting of the town fathers to lay down his law and inform them of the penalty should he be disobeyed. The villagers had fearfully agreed, terrified of the macabre army of the dead and dying being impaled and posted outside of the walls.The Devil is in our midst, the whispers said.
Much as Ajax de Velt had done those years ago, Bretton de Llion did now– displaying the dead as a warning to all who would disobey or contest his authority. And with that, Bretton had three castles under his control. It was time to return to Cloryn, regroup, and strike out for Comen Castle in a few days. Comen’s end was coming.
