Chapter Eleven #3
“I did not,” he said, seeking out the nearest chair and planting himself firmly. “That tower ought to be burned to the ground. It is terrifying and meant for fools. I never want to see it again.”
Emmeline laughed heartily. “I do not blame you,” she said. “Adonis and Pierre do not seem to be bothered by it, but it frightens me to death. I will not go near it.”
Addax was grinning at her, flashing his big white teeth. “Nor I, anymore,” he said. “Might I suggest we form an army of our own and tear it down one night when no one is watching?”
He was jesting with her, and she liked that. She had come to see that he had a sense of humor she found utterly charming.
“I am listening,” she said, in on the joke. “What did you have in mind?”
“Do you have any siege engines?”
“What are those?”
He made flinging motions. “Trebuchets,” he said. “They are attached to a frame and have an arm that sticks up. You lower the arm, load it with rocks, and launch it at the enemy.”
Realization dawned. “A catapult!” she said.
He nodded. “Aye,” he said. “Do you have one?”
She shook her head. “Alas, we do not,” she said. “I do not think the de Witt family has gone to war in forty years. Ernest’s father never did as far as I know, and Ernest never did.”
“A pity.”
“Mayhap we can borrow one!”
His grin was back. “Aye,” he said. “Mayhap we can. Northwood has them, but they are too far to the north. Moreover, they need them against the Scots. I would not take away their siege engines.”
“Can we simply not build a fire in the base of the tower and hope it burns it down?”
He shrugged. “Possibly,” he said. “But you risk the chance of the fire spreading.”
“I would not wish to burn the entire castle down.”
Addax sighed dramatically. “Then I suppose we shall simply have to look at that horror every day until I can think of a way to topple it.”
Emmeline laughed softly. “Mayhap we will get lucky and lightning will strike it and knock it down,” she said. “One can hope.”
He snorted. “One can,” he said. “But I will say that the view was spectacular from the top.”
Emmeline nodded. “It truly is,” she said. “Is that what Adonis was doing? Showing you the view?”
Addax nodded. “He was showing me the land and the mines within range,” he said. “I asked him some questions that he could not answer. He said you would know more.”
“What would you like to know?”
“It was only curiosity, really,” he said. “I wondered how the ore was sold and to whom. Do you ship it over the sea or only to local customers? That kind of thing.”
Emmeline had her quill in her hand. She pointed to the cabinet with the stacked records. “See all of that?” she said. “Every one of those sheets has records of sales. When, where, and to whom.”
“I’m told there are ten mines.”
“Eleven,” Emmeline corrected him. “Silver can be extracted from lead, only we do not have the capability here to do that. We simply sell the ore, to the silversmith guilds mostly, but also to bankers. They use their own process to extract the silver for coin or jewelry or whatever they want.”
“Your prices must be reasonable, or you would not be so successful.”
She shrugged, looking down at the vellum she’d been writing on.
“Ironic that you should say that,” she said.
“Ernest raised prices on the ore over the past three years, and I was just considering lowering the price and sending word to the silversmith guilds who have purchased from us. Last year, not everyone who usually purchased from us did so, which leads me to believe they were buying elsewhere.”
“May I ask what the price was?”
She leaned over and pulled a rolled vellum from the cabinet, carefully done so as not to disturb the other rolls next to it. She unrolled it, reading the contents.
“When I first began keeping records, a wagonload of ore sold for around three hundred pounds,” she said. “Ernest raised it to almost six hundred pounds.”
“And people were still paying it?”
She nodded. “The quality of our ore is pure,” she said. “You cannot find it as pure anywhere in England.”
Addax was interested. “De Mora was telling me that he and his father create the schedules for the mines,” he said. “They oversee the mine commanders, who manage the workers.”
Emmeline nodded. “They do,” she said. “They have always done a remarkable job.”
“I think Adonis is afraid they might lose their position with the new Lord Rheged.”
Emmeline seemed to lose her good mood. “I hope he will not send them away,” she said. “I do not know why he would, but he seems to be contrary in everything he does.”
Addax thought on her statement for a moment.
“I do not know if this helps, but I have known Max for a few years,” he said.
“I have refrained from telling you what I know of him because I wanted you to form your own opinions, and, quite honestly, it is none of my affair. The Max I know was humorous, a little reckless, a little selfish, but always loyal. But his father forcing him into marriage has caused him to revolt. I believe that is what you are seeing—a revolt.”
Emmeline sat back in her chair. “Aye, but the revolt is against me,” she said with some passion. “I have not done anything to deserve his resentment, yet I bear the brunt of it.”
Addax lowered his gaze. “I know,” he said. “I think that all he needs is time. I hope that is all he needs, because I cannot stay here forever to mediate. I have my own life to live.”
Emmeline watched his lowered head. He was looking at the way his black hair draped over one side of his face, long past his shoulders, but with a hint of a curl to it. He had the most miraculous hair. It made him look wild and free, like an untamed stallion.
But his words cut her like a knife.
“Of course you do,” she murmured. “You should not even have to be here now. I do not know why Maximilian asked you to come.”
Addax shrugged. “To take a rest from the tournament circuit,” he said. “I will only be here through the summer, and then I shall return.”
“Return to being a champion.”
“Aye.”
“But is that all?”
He lifted his gaze. “Is what all?”
She shrugged, setting her quill down and standing up from the chair. “Is that all you ever want to be?” she asked. “A tournament champion? Surely there is more you want.”
“Like what?”
She came around the table, leaning on the end of it as she stood in front of him.
“Like… well, like marriage and children,” she said.
“Look at your friend Max. Even he married well, though I cannot imagine why a man like him should have such good fortune in a wife. Surely you want to marry and live well?”
He was gazing up at her. “Of course I do,” he said softly. “I want to marry a woman who knows her own mind, stands up to the unrighteous, mayhap manages a great empire that, shall we say, mines lead, and is terrified of tall towers.”
Emmeline stared at him. His answer made her heart race so much that he surely must have heard it bashing against her ribcage. God, if it were only possible. To hear him voice what she’d been thinking nearly drove her to tears, but instead, she forced a smile.
It was only a dream, after all.
A silly, impossible dream.
“A woman like that would exhaust you,” she said. “She would argue every little command you gave and question every decision. She would not be content to be submissive by your side, and you, my great king, would not tolerate that. You need a submissive queen.”
“I would be bored out of my mind with a submissive queen.”
Emmeline sank to her knees a few feet in front of him, sitting back on her heels.
“Do you ever think you’ll go back?” she asked sincerely.
“To Kitara, I mean. So much could have happened since you left. Mayhap… mayhap your father has regained control and has spent all of these years looking for you. Is such a thing possible?”
Addax was having difficulty with the fact that she was on her knees in front of him.
He knew she hadn’t done it on purpose. Instead of sitting on a chair, she was sitting on the floor, and he had never in his life wanted to grab someone as much as he wanted to grab her.
He wanted to wrap his hands around her face and pull her lips to his, tasting her in a way she’d never been tasted before.
Her skin, so smooth and flawless, needed to be tasted as well.
Touched and tasted. This woman who belonged to another.
This woman who was getting under his skin.
“I suppose anything is possible,” he finally managed to say.
“I was very young when I fled the Larkana Palace, so I do not remember much. Just flashes of memories, really. More like dreams. I do know that something very bad was approaching, and my father was burning the city rather than let his brother have it.”
“What was your father’s name?”
“Amare.”
“Amare,” she repeated softly, rolling it off her tongue. A-mar-ay. “That is a very strong name. What was he like?”
Addax sat forward in the chair, his elbows resting on his knees, his face about a foot from hers.
“He played with his children a great deal,” he said as visions of his father rolled forth from the cobwebs of his memory.
“He had a deep laugh—a very deep laugh. And he liked to tickle. I remember him tickling Es and Adanya until they cried, and then my mother would scold him. But he would just laugh.”
“Who is Adanya?”
“My sister.”
She nodded in understanding. “The one you lost sight of along with your mother.”
“Aye.”
“She was younger than you?”
He nodded. “I was the oldest.”
“And what do you remember about your homeland?” Emmeline asked, but then she suddenly stopped herself. “Forgive me. If it is too painful to speak of, you do not have to answer. I was simply curious.”