“When you reply to his missive, will you tell him that I wish to remain here?” she asked. “I am sure he will not believe you, but you will make sure to tell him, won’t you?”
Bretton’s gaze lingered on her. “It is your father I want,” he said. “I will make sure de Lohr understands that. Your purpose in this situation has been pre-determined from the beginning. You are to draw your father to me.”
She looked up. “Is that what you will tell him?”
Bretton drew in a long, pensive breath. “I will tell him that if he wants to negotiate, then he must see me face to face. That is the only way I will conduct business with your father or with de Lohr.”
Allaston looked down to her peas. She didn’t have much more to say to that so she let the subject die. Bretton seemed preoccupied, anyway, now thinking of de Lohr’s missive and not of the heated kiss they had shared. As she sat there and harvested tiny green peas, Bretton walked over to her, gathered her dirty right hand to kiss it gently, and then promptly turned and headed out of the kitchen yard. Before he could get away completely, Allaston called after him.
“Bretton?”
He paused, turning to look at her. “Aye?”
Allaston looked up from her peas, her green-eyed gaze swallowing him whole. “Please consider burying the dead of Cloryn,” she said. “If it was your father up there, you would want someone to bury him. That man of mercy… let me catch a glimpse of him today. It would mean a great deal to me.”
Without another word, Bretton left the yard. Allaston wasn’t sure her request had much impact with him simply from the stubborn expression on his face so she went back to her peas, hoping that someday he might have more respect for her requests.
Within the hour, the army of the dead outside of the walls started to come down.
*
By the eveningmeal, the smell of burning bodies filled the air, mingling with the smell of roasting meat. The pig that had been butchered a few days prior was now being roasted over an open flame, creating a stench with the burning dead that truly had to be experienced to be believed.
Although Allaston has asked him to bury the bodies, Bretton had decided to burn them and bury the ashes because there was very little left of the bodies as it was. It was easier to burn and bury the ashes. As Allaston stayed to the kitchen to make sure the food was amply, and properly, prepared, Bretton was in the keep in the entry-level room that he had claimed for his own.
Sitting at the head of the long, scrubbed table, he had a quill in his left hand as ink and sand sat off to his left within easy reach. A piece of vellum was spread out before him, a section he had torn off from another missive he found at Cloryn addressed to the former commander. He was scribing a missive to de Lohr, basically telling the man to stop protecting de Velt and send the man to him. He proceeded to tell de Lohr, under no uncertain terms, that Allaston’s life would be in danger until de Velt presented himself. He was just finishing up the missive when he heard boots approaching, glancing up to see Grayton, Teague, and Dallan approach from the keep entry.
He put his head back down, finishing his message, as his commanders entered the room. The strain between him and his commanders had been great ever since he had returned from Newtown and he wasn’t particularly in the mood to speak with them. He’d done enough of that earlier in the day when they’d had a fine yelling match in the great hall. As he continued towrite, the three commanders sat down at the table, remaining silent as Bretton finished scribing. When he paused enough to make them think he was finished, Grayton spoke.
“Is that the response to de Lohr?” he asked.
Bretton nodded, his eyes on the parchment before him. “It is,” he said, unfriendly. “I have told de Lohr not to interfere in what does not concern him and to produce Jax de Velt on my doorstep or Lady Allaston will suffer. Grayton, prepare a messenger to send this immediately.”
Grayton’s eyes assessed Bretton. “I will,” he said, “but we must speak with you first.”
Bretton grunted sharply. “If you are going to fight with me about placing Lady Allaston in the vault again, then my answer is still no,” he said, finally looking up at them. “What else could you three possibly have to say to me beyond that?”
Teague, who was the most level-headed of the group, spoke. “The men are concerned, Bretton,” he said honestly. “Before the yelling started in the great hall, we were going to relay those concerns, so I will relay them now. Our next target is Comen Castle and we were supposed to be there now, as per your word. But it seems that you have grown complacent and Lady Allaston seems to be at the center of it. You must understand that perception is everything, Bretton, and she is perceived as having bewitched you with her wiles. The men grow increasingly suspicious and if you allow her to roam the castle freely, it is quite possible that her life will seriously be in danger purely because they believe her to be a threat to the dreams of wealth you promised them.”
So it was out. Now Bretton heard the real reason behind his commanders’ aversion to Allaston because earlier in the hall, they hadn’t been truthful about it. They had made it seem as if they, personally, wanted her imprisoned. The problem was that Bretton could see the logic and he believed every word Teaguesaid. He knew how mercenaries thought. If they perceived something as a threat, they would stop at nothing to eliminate it. That being the case, it was time for total truth between Bretton and his men. Perhaps if he could make them understand his mindset, he could sway them to his side. Right now, they sided with the men. He could see that plainly. Rather than fight with them about it any longer, he decided to try reason.
“Their dreams of wealth have not been quashed, no matter what they think,” he said. “I am planning on moving on to Comen the day after tomorrow, which should give us enough time to prepare the army. As for Lady Allaston… I must be completely honest with you for I fear I have not been. I have treated her like a personal possession, a personal whipping post, and I have not let any of you get close to her. She represents all I hate and every reason behind our conquest of de Velt’s properties.”
Teague leaned forward on the table, his serious focus on Bretton. “There is more to it than that,” he said quietly. “We can all see it. When you tell us to take down the bodies posted outside of the walls, bodies you were determined to keep out there for six months, then we can only assume the lady has had some hand in this decision.”
Bretton’s expression was guarded. “Why would you assume that?”
Teague lifted his dark eyebrows. “Because we all saw her weep at the feet of the former lord and lady of Cloryn,” he said. “She was very upset about it. Must I really explain this, Bretton? It is apparent that you are doing it to appease her.”
Bretton shrugged. “Does it matter why I have ordered the bodies cut down?” he wanted to know. “I seem to remember a battle commander telling me that the smell was unappetizing. God’s Blood, I cannot seem to please any of you these days– if I cut the bodies down, I am appeasing Lady Allaston, and if Ido not throw her back in the vault, then Grayton is furious with me. When did every command I make fall under such scrutiny? I grow weary of having to justify myself constantly.”
Teague nodded, glancing at Grayton. He had been at the head of the anti-Allaston campaign and had been speaking out the most against her. Teague also knew why and it was time to settle the matter once and for all because the conflict between them and their liege was growing unhealthy. It was time to air their grievances and hopefully solve them.
“You cannot blame Grayton for his concern over the lady,” Teague said. “The woman tried to kill you once. She could very well be luring you into a false sense of security with her feminine charms so you will trust her. She only needs to get a poker in her hand again, or worse, to do some real damage.”
Bretton shook his head as if the entire suggestion was ridiculous. “She will not kill me.”
Grayton couldn’t remain silent any longer. “She has tried once and she will try it again, but you do not want to listen to me.”
