Montague - The Warlord Part 14

Kenric wondered why the soldier was so determined to defend Tess when no defense existed. "She has set them against her. You've been bewitched, old man. Made gullible by innocent eyes that mask a mind constantly plotting mischief."

Simon's face flushed a dull red with the effort of keeping a retort contained.

"Tell me the reason she robbed my holdings," Kenric demanded.

"Lady Tess did not tell me the true reasons until the bailiff turned up missing," Simon answered evasively, tugging nervously at his collar. "Your bailiff was plotting against you. Lady Tess sought to end his treachery before anyone else discovered that he had weakened Montague's defenses."

"Explain!"

Simon backed up half a step. "The story is long, milord."

"Then best you get started!"

The soldier nodded. "You will recall that there was some concern when we arrived here from Wales. 'Twas known that Montague stores were rich and well stocked, yet feeding five hundred extra mouths in the middle of winter would place a strain on any fortress."

"You a.s.sured me that my army would not deplete the castle's supplies," Kenric reminded him.

"Aye, milord. Yet that information came directly from the bailiff. Shortly after you left for Penhaligon, Lady Tess discovered the truth. She spent several days inspecting the storehouses and found all were nearly empty. In truth, the villagers here were near starving and food for your army and the castle servants nearly spent."

"What?" Kenric rose halfway from his stool. Fitz Alan was already on his feet beside him, one hand on his sword.

"Where is the bailiff now?" Fitz Alan asked.

"He fled almost a fortnight ago," Simon answered, his frustration over the fact reflected on Kenric's and Fitz Alan's faces.

"Find him," Kenric ordered flatly.

"I dispatched a dozen men to search him out, but they've had little luck flushing their prey. He's been hiding in the villages that are scattered between Montague keeps, but has managed to stay one step ahead of us. Lady Tess believes he may be headed for Remmington, to gain the protection of her stepfather. I took her advice and sent men to patrol the northern roads."

"You trust a woman's judgment more than your own?" A muscle flexed dangerously along the taut line of Kenric's jaw.

"The advice made sense."

"You will order those soldiers to continue searching the villages." Kenric gritted his teeth, realizing that the man he'd left in charge of his army was taking orders from his wife. "The bailiff has not set foot from Montague lands in his lifetime. He will not flee them now, but will seek refuge in familiar territory."

"Aye, milord."

"Why didn't someone come forward sooner with this news?" Kenric asked, determined to get to the bottom of this treachery.

"Lady Tess wondered the same," Simon answered, frowning when that remark earned him another glare. "Each person she asked about the stores told her that she must speak with the bailiff. Rather than go to the person who was a.s.suring everyone that there wasn't a problem, Lady Tess approached your steward. He admitted the extent of the situation then told her that many had brought their concerns to the bailiff but they were told to keep silent, that you were aware of the situation but could not be convinced to order the provender from your holdings. The bailiff also said that you promised to punish anyone who mentioned the matter again before springtime. Lady Tess learned from the steward that your fiefs are rich in grain and cattle because the provender they owe you each year had not been collected for three. The va.s.sal in charge of collections died shortly after the old baron, and the bailiff never appointed another. The steward was powerless to make the requisitions himself, though he was certain you would put a blade to his throat either way. He put himself at your lady's mercy and she promised he would be spared retribution in exchange for his help collecting the provender. Your lady handled the situation cleverly, milord. Rather than alert anyone to the dire situation and risk more treachery, she issued orders to each of your holdings, demanding a tenth of their winter stores to replenish Montague's supplies. She made sure all thought it was her own greed behind the orders, that she was anxious to collect the coins the supplies would fetch at market. That was the reason Derry Town refused her request and she ordered their t.i.thing barn torched to gain their cooperation. Derry Town built a new t.i.thing barn last year and the old one was empty and near collapsing with age, but well able to provide a most spectacular tale of your lady's ruthlessness to be carried to your other holdings. The example was all that was needed and Montague's stores were quickly replenished."

"What is the situation now?" Kenric suddenly wished he'd never asked for an explanation of his wife's activities, and longed for the battlefield where none could ever accuse him of neglect. I would hear some word of praise... Tess's words came back to haunt him. She was right. He'd neglected his duty to Montague, ignored it completely. He'd allowed his hatred of the place to cloud his judgment, to miss warning signs that she'd seen clearly. And he'd punished her for it.

"The storehouses are restocked, milord. There is more than enough food and grain to last until summer and the first harvest."

"What about you, Simon? Do you have an excuse for withholding this news from me until now?"

Simon stared guiltily at the floor. "I was certain my first message would bring you home, milord. Lady Tess already had the situation in hand before a second message could have reached you at Penhaligon, and I knew it would not bring you home any faster. If such a message fell into the wrong hands, it would have meant-"

"You report to me, not my wife! I don't care if the message reached me a stone's throw from Montague's walls. You will never again keep me ignorant of what I should be the first to know!"

"Aye, Baron," Simon murmured, bowing his apology. "I made a mistake."

"See that you make no more." Kenric dismissed the soldier with a curt wave. "Get to your post at my lady's door before I decide to give you the punishment you deserve."

Simon bowed again then made a hasty exit, not waiting to be told twice.

"Christ!" Fitz Alan swore, settling onto his stool again. He grabbed his mug of ale so abruptly that it sloshed over the rim, spilling onto his leather tunic. He brushed at the damp spot with the billowy sleeve of his shirt. "d.a.m.n."

"A colorful vocabulary," Kenric remarked, refilling his own mug.

Fitz Alan ignored the jibe. "Had your va.s.sals to the north learned the truth behind your lady's 'greed,' that Montague was in fact on the brink of starvation, they would have descended like a cloud of locusts. Especially since most knew you were a good week's journey away at Penhaligon. The fortress would have fallen."

"Aye," Kenric agreed tautly. "But I would have retaken the castle just as quickly."

"Anyone who took the castle would have found themselves short of supplies as well," Fitz Alan reasoned.

"They would have found themselves dead."

Aye, killing is what you're best at... Kenric scowled and pushed away the memory of his wife's taunt, drowning her words by washing down the entire mug of ale.

Fitz Alan's gaze grew speculative as he eyed the empty mug. "Your wife-"

The blast of the baron's icy gaze cut the sentence short.

"You punished her before you knew about the bailiff," Fitz Alan deduced, his expression sympathetic.

"Whatever good came of Tess's meddling matters little," Kenric snapped, growing angrier. He'd come here to take his mind off his wife, but so far she'd been the only topic of conversation. "She placed herself and others in danger by-" Kenric stopped abruptly, his grip tightening on his mug as he glared at Fitz Alan. "You think to question the methods I use to discipline my wife?"

"Nay, of course not, milord. She is like to forgive you in time."

"Forgive me?" Kenric slammed his mug down on the table. "What the h.e.l.l must I be forgiven for? She should have sent for me the moment she discovered the bailiffs treachery. Tess shouldn't have meddled in things that were none of her business. She defied me and she knows it."

Fitz Alan wisely said nothing. They each consumed two more mugs of ale in silence.

"Have you ever had to discipline a female?" Kenric asked, staring into his mug to avoid Fitz Alan's gaze.

"Once. I caught a wench trying to steal my purse and beat her soundly for the offense." Fitz Alan shrugged. "She got off lightly. The sheriff in that shire would have hung her for the crime."

" 'Tis not the same," Kenric decided, draining the contents of his mug once more. His hand was amazingly steady as he poured yet another drink. "A wife is a different matter entirely."

"Did you beat her?" Fitz Alan asked bluntly.

"Think you I would make myself so like the MacLeiths in her eyes?" Kenric made a sound of disgust deep in his throat. "Believe me, she did not suffer long."

Fitz Alan nodded but continued to look at him expectantly, no doubt waiting to hear what manner of punishment he'd used. Kenric sighed in defeat.

"I merely bedded her, if you must know." Kenric ignored the fact that Fitz Alan hadn't actually asked the question. "Not that it is any of your business."

Fitz Alan surprised him with a snort of laughter but quickly hid his expression behind his mug.

"You find some humor in this?" Kenric asked, a dangerous gleam in his eye.

"Aye, milord," Fitz Alan said recklessly. "I am picturing your lady trembling in her slippers when she heard those dire consequences."

"She also heard that I am a b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

That news wiped the humor from Fitz Alan's expression. He set his mug on the table and waited in silence for the explanation.

"I found her in Helen's chamber, my sister regaling her with the details of my parentage, along with the reason I am called Butcher."

"How did she take the news?" Fitz Alan asked hesitantly.

"I disgust her. She tried to refuse me."

Fitz Alan looked thoughtful for a moment. "Most likely she tried to refuse you because her pride was involved. She was likely disappointed over your failure to appreciate her efforts."

I would hear some word of praise... How many women have you raped, milord? Kenric scowled, wondering how many more mugs of ale it would take to silence the voice in his head.

"Nay, she hates me," he said surely.

"You should try seducing your wife rather than ordering her to your bed," Fitz Alan suggested, with a lewd wink.

"Take care, my friend. I am in no mood for teasing this eve." Kenric lifted his mug and gave Fitz Alan a dark frown over the rim, but the other man shrugged the threat aside.

"Perhaps you need a distraction to take your mind off the troubles with your wife. There are many pleasing wenches at Montague who would willingly share their favors."

"I do not want a wench," Kenric muttered, downing the contents of his mug. He reached out for the jug of ale and poured another round. "I want at least one more pitcher of this ale and to sleep undisturbed until mom."

Fitz Alan nodded sympathetically then continued to get drunk with his overlord.

Tess awoke hours later when the st.u.r.dy oak door to her room was thrown open with a resounding crack against the wall, followed by a loud, "Shhhh!"

She bolted upright in bed, clutching the blankets to her chest as she peered toward the doorway, shadowed now in the dying firelight.

"You'f waken her, you clumsy oaf!"

Tess recognized the sound of Kenric's voice, and gathered the covers closer when she realized her husband was not alone.

"My deepess apologies, Lady Tess."

Fitz Alan moved close enough to the fireplace for Tess to make out his ident.i.ty. He made the mistake of trying to give her a courtly bow, forgetting that much of Kenric's weight rested on the arm draped across his shoulders. Thrown off balance by the sudden move, both men tumbled to the floor amidst great shouts.

Tess flew from the bed to Kenric's side, certain one of them had to be injured by the fall. "Milord, you are too close to the hearth!"

Both men were laughing like naughty boys by this time, but Kenric struggled to sit up first. The sight of Tess, clad only in her chemise, wiped the smile from his face. He clapped a hand over her eyes and yelled over one shoulder.

"Cover your eyes, Fitz Alan!"

"Milord," Tess sighed, tugging at Kenric's hand. "You have covered the wrong eyes."

Kenric lowered his hand slightly. He peered into Tess's face to confirm the fact then swung an arm around to cover Fitz Alan's eyes. His fist caught Fitz Alan in the chest, knocking the man back to the floor.

"You should be in bed," he accused, forgetting Fitz Alan.

"I was. Perhaps that would be a good place for you too, milord." Tess eyed the fireplace nervously, aware that both men were well in their cups. She waved her hand in front of her face. "You both smell as if you've bathed in ale."

"Is that insolence, wife?" The potent fumes of Kenric's breath nearly knocked Tess over. "I'll not tolerate such."

She gave him her most innocent gaze, knowing there was no use arguing with a besotted man. "Why, no, milord. I would never be so disrespectful to my husband."

"You lie," Kenric accused halfheartedly, struggling to his feet. He pointed toward the bed, his arm swaying slightly in the air. "You are near naked, lady. Get into bed before my man sees you."

"I do not think he will see anything for some time," she countered, nodding at the floor. Kenric's gaze followed and locked unsteadily on Fitz Alan. The sound of steady snoring confirmed the man was out cold.

"You cannot sleep here," he bellowed, using one foot to prod Fitz Alan's ribs. "Get up, man."

"He will rest fine there," she said firmly, tugging on Kenric's arm. This was just what she needed, a belligerent drunk. At least Fitz Alan had had the courtesy to pa.s.s out. Wary of turning a quarrelsome drunk into an ugly one, she used her most coaxing tone. "Why don't we all get some rest? 'Tis been a long day, milord."

"Cease this 'milord,' nonsense." He swatted Tess's hands away, then shook one long finger dangerously close to her nose. "I prefer to hear my given name on your lips."

" 'Tis time for bed," Tess amended, refusing to speak his name. She was convinced that he would sleep as soundly as Fitz Alan the moment his head touched the pillow. Then she could slip away and find a bed that didn't reek of an ale keg.

Tess crawled into bed, expecting he would soon follow, but the ch.o.r.e of undressing was taking him longer than usual. The task could be accomplished much quicker if he took one leg completely from his breeches before attempting to remove the other. Tess smothered a startled giggle behind her hand. His clumsy efforts were vaguely similar to those of the dancing bear she saw last year at the spring fair.

"In future, I would rather you hold your laughter while I disrobe." Kenric gave her an intimidating scowl then climbed into bed. He propped his head on one elbow and grinned lopsidedly, his mood suddenly playful. "You think me drunk?"

She lifted one brow in challenge. "I know you are."

He slipped his arm beneath her and pulled her closer to rest her head on his shoulder. "Good. That was my intent."

Tess stiffened, thankful that her body wasn't having its usual traitorous response to his nearness. The fumes that seemed to encase him kept her from any baser thoughts. "What was your intent?"

"To get drunk." He tucked her head beneath his chin and sighed. " 'Tis your fault, wife. You are driving me mad."

There was some justice to this day at last, Tess thought. She would have told him he deserved all the trouble she was going to give him, but Kenric was sleeping already. Thinking she'd give him another few minutes to fall deeper asleep before she crept out of the room, she settled her head on his shoulder again and closed her eyes. She had to escape Montague. Soon.

14.

The bright shaft of sunlight moved steadily across the room until it reached the bed. Kenric rolled away from the light, trapping Tess beneath his great weight. She'd been having a pleasant dream, a dream about swimming in a pond wanned by the summer sun. The dream turned menacing as her legs tangled in unseen weeds beneath the dark waters and she was dragged so deep below the surface that her lungs felt ready to burst. She fought against the long tendrils that snaked around her like steel bands, her struggles only encasing her more firmly in their deathly grip.

"Be still!"