Devil's Dominion (26 page)

A shout cut him off and both Jax and Cole looked to see a lone rider barreling up the dusty road that skirted the big village, heading in their direction. In the morning sun, light glinted off of the rider’s metal protection and created a flashing effect. Jax emitted a piercing whistle from between his teeth, signaling to Julian, who called a halt to the column. Men began to shout, making sure everyone had heard the command, as the army of a thousand men and six wagons began to grind to a stop.

So they waited, watching, as the rider drew close. Jax moved forward to intercept the messenger as the man pulled his frothing steed to a halt, kicking up dirt and rocks from the road.

“Well?” Jax demanded. “Did you speak with de Lohr?”

The messenger nodded. “I did, my lord,” he replied, struggling to calm his excited horse. “He says he will see you, alone and unarmed, at the gatehouse of Lioncross. He says that you must come now.”

It wasn’t the answer Jax had expected. He had fully expected denial and disappointment. His surprised showed.

“Truly?” he asked, incredulous. “He said he would grant me audience?”

Again, the messenger nodded. “Indeed, my lord.”

“What did he say, exactly?”

The messenger didn’t hesitate. “He asked me to state my business and I did,” he replied. “He wanted to know why you had brought so many men if you did not mean to engage him and I assured him that your intentions were peaceful.”

“Did he seem reluctant?”

“He did, my lord.”

“But even so, he agreed to see me?”

“He did, my lord.”

Jax turned to look at his sons, astonishment evident on his face. He had frankly been prepared to spend a few days at Lioncross at the very least, begging de Lohr to give him a few moments of his time, so this immediate agreement was something of a shock. He was so used to being alienated that a concurrence like this had him stumped, but not stumped enough so that he lost his ability to think. He could think very well and, after a moment’s pause, he dismounted his horse. As his sons watched, the armor started coming off, per de Lohr’s instructions.

“Father, should we accompany you?” Julian asked, concerned. “May we at least escort you closer to the castle?”

Jax shook his head as he pulled off his tunic. The mail coat was next and he bent over, deftly pulling it over his big body. His hair, which had always been shoulder-length, was gathered at the nape of his neck by a strip of leather and he smoothed the loose pieces of hair back and tightened up the leather tie.

“Nay,” he said flatly. “De Lohr said that he wants to see me alone and unarmed, and that is exactly what he is going to get. If he sees you escorting me, he might think I am disobeying his terms and refuse to see me. And I very much want to see the man.”

Cole and Julian eyed each other with concern but didn’t reply. Their father was determined to do as the Earl of Hereford instructed because he didn’t want to appear threatening or disobedient in any way. In fact, as Jax removed his mail and weapons, there was an excitement to his manner that neither man had ever seen. It was very clear how serious he was taking all of this.
De Lohr was willing to see him!
When the last piece of chain mail was handed over to the soldiers who were collecting the man’s armor, he began stripping the armor off of his horse.

Pieces of armor came off the warhorse, including the chain mail near the chest and on the flanks, and the heavily armored saddle eventually came off, too, leaving the horse in his bridle only. Jax didn’t care. Every piece of armor was removed from both him and his horse, and he vaulted onto the beast’s back, gathering the reins.

“I will proceed alone,” he instructed the men around him, including his sons. “You will remain here. I do not know how long this will take, so it is my suggestion that you make camp here. Do not wander into the town and do not go about stealing anything. Everyone will remain within the perimeter of the camp and behave properly. You will wait patiently for my return.”

Cole’s brow furrowed. “But what if you do not return, Father?” he wanted to know. “What will you have us do?”

Jax’s looked over his right shoulder towards the bastion in the distance. “Give me at least two days,” he said. “If you do not see me returned in two days, then send a messenger to inquire on my status. If you receive no answer or are not given a satisfactory reply, then we will assume that something has happened to me and you, Cole, will demand to speak to de Lohr personally. If he denies you audience or tells you something you do not wish to hear, then you have my permission to lay siege to Lioncross and destroy her. All of her. However, the Earl of Hereford has a reputation for fairness and honestly, so I do not think the man will move against me. I have faith that I will return to you. But if I do not, then you have your orders.”

Cole was satisfied with the directive. Reining his horse over to where his father was, he extended a mailed hand to the man. Jax took it and held it tightly.

“Godspeed, Father,” he said. “We will be waiting for word.”

Jax squeezed the man’s hand and let it go, reining his charger in the direction of Lioncross. As the beast picked up into a thundering canter, de Velt’s army watched the man ride away, each soldier with thoughts on de Lohr, victory, Wales, and the future. No one had certainty of any of those choices.

The next move was de Lohr’s.

℘

The inhabitants of Lioncross waited in tense silence mostly, watching the horizon, knowing de Velt’s army was lingering in the distance, watching and waiting. The massive, oddly-shaped bailey was full of peasants as the soldiers tried to organize the refugees from the village, trying to put them into areas that were least likely to receive bombardment or projectiles should de Velt’s army advance. The air was filled with uncertainty even though de Lohr seemed particularly calm. He stood with his knights in the gatehouse against the portcullis, watching the road and waiting.

And waiting.

But the wait wasn’t a long one in the grand scheme of things. Less than a half-hour after the messenger returned to de Velt, the sentries on the walls of Lioncross began to take up the cry. A rider had been sighted in the distance. When the cry went up, Christopher turned to look at his knights, who peered back at him in various stages of apprehension. Soon, they would see what no man had ever seen and lived to tell the tale – Jax de Velt in the flesh. The Dark Lord himself would soon be on their doorstep and they were understandably apprehensive. Old fears died hard.

“I will wager that he is a tiny old man,” Max finally said, his attention on the road beyond the portcullis. “All of these years we have feared a monster and, more than likely, rumors have been exaggerated. He is probably a tiny old man with no teeth.”

Edward, standing beside him, snorted. “Better still, what if he is really a woman?” he said. “Wouldn’t that be a tale to tell? The great Ajax de Velt is female!”

Max grinned and opened his mouth to reply but de Lohr shushed his knights. “He is not a woman and he is not a tiny old man,” he said, his sky-blue eyes fixed on the road. “He is as big as a mountain and as dark as the Devil, see for yourself.”

Edward and Max rushed to the portcullis, pressing their faces against the heavy iron to see what de Lohr was seeing. The road stretched out before them, fairly flat, before curving to the right to circumvent the perimeter of the village. There was also a descent in elevation from the castle so that the fortress had an expanded view over the top of the village and to the countryside beyond to the north. As they watched, a figure could be seen galloping in from the north, following the curve of the road as he moved around the berg, and then heading towards them up the incline leading to the castle.

All eyes were fixed on the figure who was riding a very large war horse bareback. The man astride the horse was big, bigger still as he approached, with tendrils of his long hair blowing in the wind as the moved along at a clipped pace. The sun was up now, shining brightly as it headed towards its zenith, so it was easy to see the details of the rider as he approached. The closer he came, the more they realized that he was indeed an enormous man. Enormous and larger than life, as Ajax de Velt should be.

Christopher was well aware of the man’s size and of the fact that he was beholding Ajax de Velt. He examined the man as he drew closer still before calling to one of the sentries at the gate.

“Open the portcullis!” he boomed.

Edward and Max looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “What are you doing?” Edward asked, clearly apprehensive.

Christopher cast his men a long look. “Stop acting like a bunch of frightened women,” he scolded. “I am going out to meet the man and you will remain here. Whatever he has to say is between him and me, and I do not need a bunch of nervous women cowering behind me. He is a lone man on a lone horse with no weaponry. There is nothing he can do against me.”

Edward didn’t take kindly to be called a nervous woman, truthful though it might be. “Remember that dagger he has up his arse,” he muttered. “If he cuts your throat with it, don’t say that I did not warn you.”

The portcullis was nearly a third of the way up and Christopher called a halt, moving to duck underneath it. But before he did, he looked at Edward. “If he pulls a dagger out of his arse, then tell the archers to aim for his heart,” he said. “If the man makes any aggressive move towards me, tell them to shoot him down. Is that clear?”

Edward liked that command a great deal. It brought him comfort. “Aye, my lord.”

Christopher ducked underneath the portcullis and ordered it lowered as he took a few steps forward, away from the portcullis as de Velt came near. Before the man could come too close, however, Christopher held up his hands to stop him. The rider obeyed, coming to an unsteady halt several feet away. Now, the moment of truth was upon them and it was a great and terrible silence that followed. The Dark Lord had arrived.

Christopher eyed the man atop the big bay stallion. He was utterly enormous, with long dark hair tied behind his head, enormous hands, and a muscular body. He was older now, with streaks of gray in his dark hair, and he was perhaps ten or twelve years older than Christopher. He was rather handsome and well formed, and he certainly didn’t look like the monster de Velt had been accused of being, but as Christopher took another step or two in the man’s direction, he could see that the man had two distinctly colored eyes. Christopher had seen horses with eyes like that but never a man. De Velt’s left eye was brown and his right eye was a bright green. Now, some of the fear and lore of Ajax de Velt was starting to take on a bit of credibility. He did indeed look terrifying.

“Are you Ajax de Velt?” Christopher asked steadily.

Jax nodded his head. “I am,” he said. “Are you de Lohr?”

Christopher nodded. “I am Christopher de Lohr,” he said. “Your messenger said that you wished to speak with me. I am granting you that privilege but you will do it from a distance. Dismount your horse and remain beside it.”

Jax didn’t hesitate. He threw his leg over the horse and hit the ground. Then he just stood there as Christopher studied him, perhaps satisfying a deep curiosity, perhaps simply wondering what the man wanted. It was a natural inclination since Jax de Velt, when he hadn’t been tearing up the land, kept to himself. He’d been quiet for many years. After a moment of scrutiny, Christopher spoke.

“Now,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “What did you wish to speak with me about?”

He wasn’t being overly friendly but he wasn’t being rude, either. It was better than Jax had hoped for.

“First, I would like to thank you for being gracious enough to see me,” he said. “I did not think you would.”

Christopher cocked an eyebrow. “I was afraid of what you would do if I did not,” he said truthfully. “History tells us that it is not prudent to anger Jax de Velt.”

Jax gave him a half-smile, ironic. “I suppose we should speak on the days of the past and get them out of the way before we continue with pleasantries,” he said. “I have not engaged in conquest of any kind in twenty-five years, not since I met my wife. We have six children and I live a very quiet life in Northumberland as the vassal of the Earl of Northumberland. My life since those days of long ago has been peaceful. It is in peace that I come to Lioncross to seek your counsel.”