Chapter Nineteen
He ended up at The Neath.
Despondent and tormented after being chased away from Wybren, Aeron ended up at The Neath because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.
Not even his own home appealed to him. While Glynn had fled with his men back to his stronghold, Adan had tried to follow Aeron, trying to force him to return to Llanwyffyn.
He even promised him Lilia’s comfort for the night, but Aeron wouldn’t go. He didn’t want that cow named Lilia.
He wanted Juliandra.
He’d ridden to The Neath, that beautiful manse with the neat gardens and rich furnishings. He’d ridden up to the gates and pounded on them, demanding entry, but the servants wouldn’t open them. They were frightened of him and rightfully so.
Therefore, he sat outside of the gates, yelling and making demands.
Not even Adan could get him to come away and go home, so Aeron’s tantrum went on through the night, filling the cold, moist air with his grief and fury.
At some point, it deteriorated into weeping and he called Juliandra names that were better suited for his worst enemy.
At that point, however, she was his worst enemy.
She had ruined everything for him.
Her and that bastard English knight.
A few hours before dawn, the weeping and raging faded away as Aeron lay down in the dirt in front of the locked gate and fell into a fitful sleep.
Adan was still nearby, still watching everything that was going on, as his cousin slowly descended into madness because of rejection he had never truly expected.
His expectations had come to a brutal end.
Certainly, the reality that he would never have Juliandra had always been in the back of Aeron’s mind.
At least, it should have been. Aeron had known that Gethin wanted nothing to do with him.
Aeron had proposed marriage several times over the years, but Gethin had repeatedly denied him.
At first, the denials had been polite, but the more Aeron persisted, the less polite the denials became.
But that did not discourage Aeron.
Somehow, in his mind, the denials were a challenge.
No man had ever truly denied him his wants and he was convinced that Gethin would not be the first one.
He knew he could break the man down, or at least he thought he could.
Aeron’s family had been powerful warlords for a century or more, so Aeron was living under the false illusion that he had some power when it came to selecting his bride.
As it turned out, he had no power at all.
It had never been so apparent as it had been at the gates of Wybren Castle.
Aeron wasn’t a man accustomed to failure and therefore had no way to truly control his rage.
After falling asleep in the dirt in front of the iron gates of The Neath, he was awoken at dawn by two old servants, including Megsy, who had brought him warmed wine and a blanket.
Evidently, his plight had moved them into showing some measure of humanity, and they had brought him a few things for his comfort.
But all Aeron saw were the open gates, and he pushed through the servants and rushed straight into the house.
After that, they could not get him out.
Without Gethin or Juliandra in residence, Aeron had the run of the place, and run he did.
He stormed around the house, knocking valuable things from their shelves and shouting of his hatred for both Gethin and Juliandra.
At one point, he managed to get hold of a fire poker and he began smashing things, creating a mess and destroying the things that Juliandra loved.
It was his way of punishing her, but more than that, it was an outlet for his particular brand of madness.
There were a few of Gethin’s hired men at the house, but Megsy prevented them from fighting with Aeron and throwing him out, mostly because that would probably create a bigger problem than they already had.
Megsy, who was in charge with Gethin and Juliandra away, hoped that Aeron would simply wear himself out and go home under his own power.
He was volatile, and unstable, and having the guards throw him out would have only added fuel to that fire.
Megsy was hoping he would simply leave on his own.
But in the midst of Aeron’s rage, he began speaking of things Megsy didn’t know.
Between the screaming and the smashing, she discovered that Juliandra was remaining at Wybren of her own accord.
Aeron said something about her being betrothed to the English overlord, but Megsy couldn’t seriously believe that.
She thought, perhaps, that it was Aeron’s madness speaking and nothing more.
Never did she imagine it to be true.
As the day continued, Aeron showed no signs of leaving.
After he had smashed a significant amount of valuables and possessions, he ended up in the hall demanding food and drink, which was brought to him by nervous servants.
The drink had been severely watered down because the last thing they wanted was a drunk madman on their hands, so Aeron drank watered wine that had been heavily mulled so he could not taste just how much it had been watered.
He ate their bread, ate their cheese and fruit, and drank copious amounts other watered wine, all the while continuing to curse Juliandra.
That went on well into the afternoon.
Still Aeron showed no desire to leave. It seemed that he wanted to be in Juliandra’s home, cursing her and weeping over a lost betrothal.
He wanted to be where she was born, where she ate and slept, even though she wasn’t there herself.
He wanted to be close to her because he could no longer physically control her.
He’d lost her to a bloody Saesneg.
“This will not stand, you know,” he said to several nervous servants hovering in the hall. “I have been wronged and I shall have my satisfaction.”
Megsy was one of those standing in the hall. “Then you must wait until Lord Gethin returns home,” she said steadily. “We can do nothing for you.”
Aeron had his feet on the feasting table. He’d already thrown bread crusts and apple cores onto the floor, but he kicked over the watered wine as Megsy spoke.
“Gethin is a captive of the Saesneg,” he snarled. “He will never be released and Juliandra has become the Saesneg’s whore. Therefore, this house belongs to me now!”
Megsy’s hopes that Aeron would grow tired and leave were fading. “You cannot stay,” she said. “This is not your home.”
Aeron picked up an apple and threw it at her, barely missing her head. “Shut your mouth, you crippled wench,” he said. “No one is here to stop me!”
“I am here to stop you.”
The voice came from the entry to the hall. Shocked, Aeron whirled around to see Juliandra standing there.
And she did not look pleased.