Chapter Twenty-Two #3
The deep, booming voice came from the entry to the kitchen yard.
Allaston looked up to see Jax coming through the gate his massive broadsword gleaming wickedly in the morning light.
Fully armored and looking every inch the terrifying Dark Lord of legend, Jax approached with the stalking grace of a cat, scoping out his enemy as he moved.
It was clear he was heading in for the kill.
All of the poets in the world collectively could not have described the joy and relief of that moment as Allaston’s gaze beheld the father she hadn’t seen in well over a year. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sight and it was an effort not to run to him.
“Papa!” she gasped.
Jax didn’t look at his daughter as he moved.
To do so would have been to take his eye off his enemy and that action could be deadly.
So he didn’t take the chance and continued to stalk, moving Teague and Dallan away from his daughter.
It was a slow, tense dance they engaged in as Jax circled them, waiting for the moment to strike.
“Are you well, Allie?” Jax asked from behind his terrifying helm.
Allaston nodded. “I am fine,” she said. “How did you find me?”
Jax swung the broadsword in a very controlled, very threatening maneuver that caused both Teague and Dallan to back up, moving away from Allaston.
The man was death personified and even though they were experienced warriors, engaging Ajax de Velt was something neither one of them was prepared for.
Dallan was armed with a broadsword but Teague wasn’t. He was at a distinct disadvantage.
“De Velt!” Dallan hissed, his eyes wide. “Good Christ, as I live and breathe, ’tis The Dark Lord himself!”
Teague kept his eyes on Jax as he spoke to Dallan. “Hold him while I go get my weapon,” he said. “I will meet him on equal ground.”
Dallan’s eyes widened. “Hold de Velt?” he said. “Are you mad? I will do no such thing! Let him take his daughter and leave. My life is not worth trying to keep de Velt from his daughter.”
With a heavy sigh, Teague turned to Dallan, grabbed his broadsword, and gored him with it. Dallan grunted as the broadsword cut into his chest, carving through bone and vital organs. He was dead before he hit the ground and Teague removed the broadsword, facing off against Jax.
“Now I am properly armed,” he said evenly. “This will be much more of a battle because if you want your daughter, you are going to have to fight for her.”
Jax wasn’t amused. “Then stop talking and get on with it. I grow weary of your stalling.”
The sound of metal upon metal pierced the morning air like a thunderclap.
*
Bretton saw the moment when Teague killed Dallan, and he further watched as Teague went after de Velt with a vengeance.
De Velt was powerful, more powerful than Teague, but he hadn’t held a broadsword in hand to hand combat in many years.
Unfortunately for Jax, it made the battle more an even playing field in Teague’s favor.
“Damnation!” Bretton roared, standing at the postern gate where several of his soldiers were lingering, watching the fight between Jax and Teague. “Open this gate!”
The soldiers, having no idea why de Llion was outside of the walls, complied, and Bretton entered with Rod and John Morgan on his heels.
All three men were armed and as Bretton charged Teague, he unsheathed his broadsword, preparing to gore the man any way he could, but unfortunately for him, Teague saw him approach.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and, seeing Bretton on the offensive, lashed out a booted foot and caught Jax in the knee, causing the man to buckle.
As Jax went down, Teague bolted in Allaston’s direction.
Allaston, who had been watching the fight with horror, had lowered her spit and wasn’t able to lift it fast enough as Teague came after her.
He grabbed her by the neck and she dropped the spit, screaming because he had hurt her.
When Bretton, Rod, and John Morgan saw that Teague had Allaston in his grasp, their onslaught came to an instant halt.
“Now,” Teague said as Allaston squirmed in his grip.
“It would seem I have the power. Bretton, unfortunately, that means your army is now mine. You are far too distracted with personal issues to be an effective commander and I want what you promised me, do you hear? That means that I will take the army, and Lady Allaston, with me first to Erwood Castle, and then on to Four Crosses Castle, insuring that you will behave yourself as long as I hold her hostage. In fact, Lord de Velt, since those castles belong to you, it would be wise of you to simply hand them over to me. If you do not, things could go very badly for your daughter.”
As Jax struggled to his feet, Rod went to him and helped him up. “I will turn them over to you, but you must give me my daughter now,” Jax said. “If you keep her, you get nothing.”
“And if I get nothing, she will rot away in a vault somewhere and there is nothing you can do about it.”
“Teague,” Bretton stepped forward, putting himself between Teague and Jax because he wanted the man’s attention.
“Listen to me now so that we may come to an agreement. You do indeed hold the power with Lady Allaston. I do not dispute it. And you are correct. I am distracted with personal issues. I am distracted with Lady Allaston. She belongs to me, Teague. Return her to me and I will give you everything I have, all of the wealth I have accumulated over the years. Everything shall be yours if you will give her back to me.”
Teague’s grip on Allaston tightened and she gasped in pain.
“That is a fair bargain,” he agreed. “But until I have everything you own deposited before me, she will remain with me. Not to say I do not trust you, but this is business. You promised to make me a wealthy man and you will fulfill that vow.”
Over Teague’s left shoulder, where the kitchen structure was located, Bretton could see movement in the window that Allaston had escaped from.
He didn’t dare look for fear of tipping Teague off, but he swore he could see an arm extending from the window, and the hand at the end of the arm held something.
He began to suspect that a distraction of some kind was coming so he braced himself, moving in a direction that would make Teague blind to what was going on behind him.
He had no idea what anyone else was doing around him and he didn’t care.
All he cared about at the moment was keeping Teague’s focus. He had to gain the upper hand.
“I have done everything I told you I would do,” he said. “I have never gone back on my word with you and I certainly will not do it now. Give me Lady Allaston and I swear to you that you shall have all that I own.”
Teague glanced at the woman writhing in his grip. “Why is she worth so much to you, Bretton?” he asked, genuinely curious. “She is your prisoner. You treated the woman worse than a dog when you first abducted her but now you consider her something of a treasure. I do not understand.”
Bretton drew in a long, steadying breath. He couldn’t stand to see Allaston in pain as Teague twisted her neck. If he squeezed any harder, he might possibly snap it. Bretton struggled not to feel a sense of panic.
“Have you ever been in love, Teague?” he asked.
Then, he shook his head. “I have never been. My entire life has been full of horrors that I will not describe here, but suffice it to say that loving someone was the furthest thing from my mind. But that has changed. I have changed. I didn’t want to admit it before now, but it is true.
There is a man standing a few feet away from me whom I swore vengeance upon because he killed my father, but I’ve come to learn that he did not kill my father at all.
My father is alive and well. Have you met my father, Teague?
He is here, beside me as I have always wanted him to be. ”
He turned to John Morgan, who was standing a few feet away, a grim expression on his face and a broadsword in his hand. Bretton smiled at the man.
“He does not know me, but that does not matter,” he continued.
“The moment I saw him alive, it was as if all of the pain and hatred I’d ever held in my life was sucked right out of me.
That vengeance that has driven me is diminished.
I no longer need it, for my father is not dead.
It is a truly odd sensation to realize I no longer need that hatred to keep me alive. But what I do need is Allaston.”
Bretton returned his focus to Teague and Allaston, struggling with each other a few feet away. Teague gazed back at him, something hard and dark within his eyes.
“What are you telling me, Bretton?” he asked. “That you no longer hate? I can give you a reason to hate, my friend. If that is what it takes to drive you, to give me everything you promised me, then I can indeed give you a reason to hate.”
Bretton shook his head, knowing what Teague was leading up to.
“Do not do it,” he said quietly. “I had my family taken away from me when I was very young and it took me twenty-five years to learn to love again. Allaston has shown me what it means to love and to be loved. If you take her away from me… I doubt I would feel hatred. I would feel hollowness and grief such as the world has never seen. I have promised you all that I have in exchange for her. I beg you to take it and give her back to me.”
Teague opened his mouth to reply but was cut off when he was hit on the side of the head by a small iron pot that came flying out of the kitchen window.
Uldward the cook had hurled it at him with great aim and Teague, without his helm, was struck square-on, enough so that he pitched forward, losing his grip on Allaston as he fell.