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Montague - The Warlord Part 16

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"Being a fair man, I would give you and your staff a choice," Kenric drawled, turning the point of the dagger into one of the table's knotholes.

"A choice, milord?"

"Of which toes to remove."

Cook's face drained of color. .

"On the other hand, my lady has been delayed for a short time." Kenric tapped the point of his dagger against his lips, as if pondering a weighty decision. "Your staff may yet be able to clear away this mess before she arrives."



Cook nearly stumbled to his knees, whispering his grat.i.tude in a hoa.r.s.e voice as he bowed low to his lord. "It shall be done, milord. The dishes Baroness Montague requested for your arrival are near ready."

Cook looked ready to offer an excuse for the slops on the table, then seemed to decide against the idea. Kenric waved his dismissal, waiting until Cook was nearly out of the hall before halting the man's flight with another disturbing question.

"Did you agree to prepare this feast my wife ordered?"

"Ah... Aye, milord."

"Then you would be well advised that my wife's punishments are those devised by a gently bred lady. I cut out the tongues of liars so they will lie no more. You have half an hour to keep your promise."

Cook's mouth dropped open but snapped shut a moment later, as if to protect his tongue behind his teeth. Kenric turned then to address his men.

"Each of you would do well to heed my advice to Cook," he said, looking pointedly at several piles of bones. The men dropped their food almost in unison, scrambling to retrieve their garbage from the floor. He crooked his finger at Evard.

"Find and delay my lady for at least half of an hour."

"What shall I tell her?" Evard asked.

"That is your problem," Kenric snapped.

"Aye, milord," Evard groaned, bowing to Kenric before hurrying away.

The allotted time had nearly pa.s.sed when Tess entered the hall, a pale-faced Helen to her right, a red-faced Evard to her left. Simon trailed behind the trio, his grin stretched from ear to ear.

"Are you sure you are feeling better?" she asked Evard. "You still appear quite flushed."

"I am fine, milady." Evard's answer was terse, his lips tightly compressed.

"What's this about not feeling well?" Kenric gave Tess a barely civil nod of greeting and had her seated before returning his attention to Evard. "Evard, you have not answered my question."

"He fainted!" Simon coughed loudly to cover his laughter.

"How unfortunate." Kenric gave Evard a sympathetic look. "But you are feeling better now?"

"I am in perfect health," Evard said through clenched teeth, his glare directed at Simon. He gave Kenric a stilted bow then walked stiffly to his seat.

Simon claimed a stool next to Evard, whistling a tuneless ditty. Fitz Alan's chair remained conspicuously empty.

Cook entered the hall leading a parade of kitchen servants, each bearing steaming dishes, platters, or bowls. Tess worked hard to contain the urge to clap her hands in delight. She had suspected Cook was talented, but the food laid before them surpa.s.sed her expectations. A platter of fowl nestled in a delicate cream sauce was followed by glazed beets, roasted corn, spiced apples, and thick slabs of roast beef. Two servants placed a table in the center of the hall, then six servants came in bearing an entire roast pig.

The squires entered the hall next, each dressed in their finest garments, most recently repaired or st.i.tched by Lady Helen's seamstresses. The young men waited until Thomas filled a trencher for Kenric and Tess before they began filling trenchers for the knights they served.

Kenric carved a portion of roast beef and gallantly offered the choice morsel to his lady. Tess's eyes sparkled with suspicion, but she accepted the offering graciously.

"Did you think I lacked courtly manners?" he asked sardonically. "Even b.a.s.t.a.r.ds can be taught to dine with kings."

Tess's pleasure over the meal evaporated. She leaned forward so none other would overhear her remark "As you are a king's b.a.s.t.a.r.d, that hardly seems surprising."

They glared at each other until Fitz Alan settled onto the stool next to Kenric, murmuring an excuse for his tardiness.

"My apologies, Baron. I was delayed by an unavoidable... inconvenience." Fitz Alan gave the food a dubious glance while one of the squires hurried forward to fill his trencher with the hearty fare and his goblet with wine. Fitz Alan stared at the goblet as if it contained a serpent.

"My wife is possessed of a potion that will cure what ails you," Kenric told him. Fitz Alan looked hopeful over the possibility. "See that you take it after this meal has ended. You have duties today that do not involve chamber pots."

"Aye, milord," Fitz Alan murmured, continuing to stare dolefully at the food.

Kenric turned his attention to his sister. "Helen, you will stand before me."

Helen kept her gaze lowered as she walked around the tables to stand before her brother.

" 'Tis obvious that you have been too long without a firm hand to guide you," Kenric began. "You were given plenty of time to prove your worth to Montague and to your overlord, yet I see little evidence that Montague would suffer for lack of your presence. I have no use for worthless females."

Helen's eyes grew round with fright and she shook her head.

"There are two solutions to this problem," he continued. "The promise of your dowry is enough to convince a man to find some use for you. In fact, my va.s.sal, Roger Fitz Alan, is well known for his ability to deal with stubborn, troublesome women."

Fitz Alan choked on the sip of wine he'd finally steeled himself to taste. Simon pounded his back sympathetically. Helen's horrified gaze locked on Fitz Alan, eyeing him as if he'd turned into a repulsive toad. Kenric smiled. Fitz Alan was also a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, and Kenric knew his sister was aware of the fact. He recalled her every word about evil seeds and stained souls, hoping Helen's memory was just as sound. It was the perfect punishment.

"The other solution?" she whispered, her terrorized gaze returning to Kenric.

"You have managed Montague's household for many years. You are familiar with the duties required by the mistress of this place, yet my wife seems to have little knowledge of which duties belong to the chatelaine and which ones belong to her overlord. Your other choice is to make yourself useful to my wife. You will work alongside her to teach the duties of this place, accepting whatever tasks she would give you."

"I will do whatever Lady Tess requires of me," Helen said quickly.

"Know that you will have but one choice remaining if you fail in these duties." Kenric turned to Fitz Alan. "You will court my sister until she has proven herself more useful to my wife than she has been to me. You may yet find her your bride."

Fitz Alan simply nodded, looking beyond words.

Kenric dismissed Helen with a slight movement of his hand. "You may retire to your chamber until tomorrow morning to consider your new duties."

Helen stood motionless for a moment, then she picked up her skirts and walked slowly from the hall, her chin held at a tight, regal angle.

Tess's sympathy went out to her. Kenric had humiliated his sister as thoroughly as he'd just humiliated his wife. She pushed her trencher away, her appet.i.te gone.

"If you have finished your meal, you may be excused to go mix a potion for Fitz Alan," Kenric told her. " 'Tis doubtful his taste for food will return anytime soon without it."

Tess left the great hall gladly, Fitz Alan trailing behind. Heartless, muleheaded, arrogant, insulting. She listed off her complaints silently as they made their way to her chamber, vowing to remain just as silent in her husband's presence from this moment on. The churl deserved it. Aye, she would never speak to him again.

Fitz Alan followed her into the bedchamber but stayed her action when she would have closed the door behind them, pushing the door wide open. "I would not have your husband suspect anything needed hiding behind this door, should he decide to join us."

Tess shrugged. She didn't care what Kenric's thoughts were one way or another. Rummaging through her trunk, she found the herbs and spread them on the table. A small caldron hung from a spit over the fireplace and she filled the pot with water. After sprinkling the herbs in the water, she used a poker to push the caldron over the flames.

"The potion works best when warmed," she told him, turning from the fire. "Though it wouldn't be needed at all if some men knew how to curb their thirst."

Fitz Alan clasped his hands behind his back and stared at the floor. " 'Tis rare I have need of an ale cure. The baron does not approve of those who overindulge."

"I should never have guessed."

"Well, I suppose it does not exactly appear that way after last night," he conceded. "In truth, I have never seen your husband consume so much drink in one sitting."

"I daresay you felt obliged to match his amazing pace?"

"Aye, Lady. I had no great desire to keep his company sober." Fitz Alan's grin was disarming but his gaze turned speculative. "Not after Simon related the events that took place in our absence."

Tess began packing away the herbs, hoping Fitz Alan wouldn't notice her sudden tenseness. "I take it he was furious?"

"He seemed more concerned with something else he heard that day. More precisely, your reaction to it."

"Kenric heard many things yesterday that he had little liking for," Tess replied over one shoulder. "Do be more specific, sir."

"He seemed concerned by what Helen told you."

Tess shrugged. "If you think to deny the truth, do not bother. He as much as admitted his unspeakable crimes."

"Crimes?" Fitz Alan echoed.

"I know he murdered innocent women and children in Wales."

"As did I," he admitted, shaking his head. "Yet they were not the innocents Helen would doubtless have you believe."

Tess's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"There was not a child less than fourteen years in that pack of heathens and they did their own fair share of slaughtering before Kenric put an end to their savagery. That there were three women in that group as bloodthirsty as any man I've met was not your husband's doing. They decided to kill or be killed and paid the price of their decision. When word spread that women had been slain, the full story behind the deed did not spread with it." Fitz Alan's slight frown was as admonishing as any of Kenric's scowls. "That is what I mean, Lady."

"I see." Tess's relief was tempered with caution. "Your explanation does not change the fact that Kenric will slaughter my loyal retainers along with MacLeith's men when you lay siege to Remmington."

It was almost a question, though she knew Fitz Alan couldn't give her the answer she wanted. He shrugged again, without apology. " 'Tis a fact of war. The innocent perish with the guilty. You should take comfort from the fact that your husband will restore your lands."

"I should take comfort, knowing Remmington lands will run red with the blood of my people?" Tess shook her head, feeling secure again in her decisions. "I know too well what happens when an army lays siege. Those within the keeps and fortresses will be slowly starved until they are forced to fight or die. With Kenric's army outside the walls, they will die anyway. My va.s.sals and retainers will have MacLeith swords at their backs, and Kenric's swords at their throats. They will be the first to die."

Fitz Alan remained silent, unable to deny what he had doubtless witnessed times beyond counting. Tess knew she was not far wrong in her summation. That Remmington was Kenric's by law would only make the warlord more ruthless in his methods.

Steam drifted from the small pot over the fireplace and Tess pulled the caldron from the fire. She used her skirt to protect her hands as she poured the mixture into the mug Fitz Alan held.

" 'Tis hot," she warned, as he sniffed the brew with a wrinkled nose.

"You have said naught about the other things Lady Helen told you," Fitz Alan murmured, blowing lightly across the top of his potion. "Most ladies would be aggrieved to learn their husband was not the result of a marriage."

Tess supposed that was Fitz Alan's delicate way of avoiding the word "b.a.s.t.a.r.d." He seemed the only one at Montague with any such aversion this past day. " 'Tis of little consequence. Why should that fact change my opinion of Kenric at this late date?"

"Why, indeed?" he said, smiling again. His smile dimmed as he sniffed the potion again, looking tempted to hold his nose as he swallowed the foul brew. His complexion took a turn for the worse as he handed back the empty mug. "G.o.d, 'tis awful!"

"Your lord's opinion exactly." Tess smiled, thinking both men would likely gag if they learned the true contents of the mixture. Her smile faded at the sound of a commotion in the hallway. Kenric appeared in the doorway, Simon and Evard close behind. He eyed the open door then gave Fitz Alan a pointed look, nodding approvingly.

"I thought you might join us," Fitz Alan said with a shrug.

"It took you half of an hour to drink a d.a.m.ned potion?" Kenric demanded. Even knowing the state of Fitz Alan's health, he'd started to rethink the order that sent him off alone with Tess to a room that conveniently contained a bed. Fitz Alan had been known to take advantage of a lady in much more precarious situations.

"Lady Tess said the potion must be warmed first," Fitz Alan explained.

Kenric gave Tess an accusing look. "You did not warm my potion."

"I thought it best to pour the cure down your gullet as soon as possible."

He stalked across the room and pulled out a quilted leather tunic, armbands, chauses, and other clothing he wore beneath his armor, his comments addressed to Fitz Alan. "Collect what you need for a ride to Deny Town. Simon tells me the bailiff hid in that village first. We shall see if the mayor can be convinced to tell me more of the traitor's flight. I will meet you in the armory in a quarter hour."

Fitz Alan gave Kenric a quick bow then left. Kenric's gaze brushed by Tess, quickly pa.s.sing her over.

"You two will stay with my wife," he told Simon and Evard. "Stay outside her door when she is in this chamber, within her sight when she is not."

With that, Kenric departed. Tess closed the door behind him, trying to ignore the two soldiers who took up their positions in the hallway. It was humiliating for them to know how little Kenric thought of her, that he would not bother to give her a word of farewell or even a notion of when he'd return. Not that it mattered. The whole castle knew what little regard he had for her. Tess released a long sigh, realizing that Kenric's latest order for her keepers to remain within her sight would only make her escape more difficult. Nearly impossible, as a matter of fact, if she failed to trick them into relaxing their guard.

Afraid of feeling sorry for herself if she remained in her room any longer, Tess donned her cloak and made her way to the battlements. Evard and Simon followed dutifully. The crisp, fresh air was exhilarating, but Tess noticed that her guards watched her nervously, looking half afraid of her intent when she leaned far over the wall to peer down into the bailey. Simon was at her elbow before she gained a clear view of the area.

"Please, milady," he said quietly. "Should you fall, the baron will see that we meet your fate."

Tess doubted either event, but she took a step back from the wall. "Do not fret, Simon. The ground holds little appeal from this height."

She leaned more cautiously against the wall and Simon nodded his approval. She didn't have a long wait before she spied Kenric riding out from the main gates with a score of his men. Even in full armor, she knew him immediately. Aside from his blue and white surcoat, he was simply the tallest and largest of the men, his black warhorse sized on the same ma.s.sive scale. He was an impressive sight. She pitied Derry Town's mayor. That man was sure to be frightened witless by the sight of his overlord bearing down on his town, dressed for war.

"He is a fool to ride out this late with so few men," Tess remarked, gauging the angle of the sun over the treetops to the west.

"Only a fool would challenge the baron," Evard stated, his voice filled with pride in his overlord's prowess. "Night or day."

Tess was ready to retort that wild beasts cared little for a man's reputation, but at that moment Kenric turned in his saddle to gaze back at Montague. She quelled the ridiculous urge to lift her hand in a gesture of farewell. He'd granted her no such sign of consideration. He turned forward but his head suddenly jerked back around and Tess knew he'd caught sight of her. She could almost feel his gaze though his eyes were shielded behind his helm and she was too far away to see them anyway. She was certain he was waiting for that wave. He wasn't going to get it. At last he turned around again as the group rode over the crest of a hill and disappeared from sight. Tess turned away from the wall, her smile meant to hide the curious sheen of tears in her eyes.

"What say you we visit the kitchens?" she suggested with forced cheerfulness. "I would like to compliment Cook on the fine meal we enjoyed this day."

The two soldiers exchanged an odd look then nodded their agreement.

The kitchens were still abuzz with activity, the servants busy cleaning up the remnants of the feast and turning the leftovers into new meals for the next day. Everyone came to a sudden halt when they spied the baroness, the silence that descended over the group befitting a church service until a tray slipped from someone's grip and the bowls that were stacked on top clattered to the floor. It was almost a signal of some sort, for everyone suddenly returned to their duties, looking busier than they had a few moments before. The low hum of hushed conversations filled the room again.

"Milady," Cook murmured, rushing forward. He bowed, then stepped back a pace and eyed her nervously. "Is... is anything amiss, Baroness?"

"I wanted to thank you personally for producing such a fine feast," Tess said warmly, mistaking the Cook's uncomfortable flush for modest pride. "The food surpa.s.sed my expectations. You and your staff have talents worthy of the king's table."

Cook twisted his ap.r.o.n strings, avoiding the baroness's clear gaze as he mumbled a reply. "Thank you, milady. 'Tis an honor to serve our lord and lady."

Tess glanced around at the flurry of activity, knowing the effort the meal had cost. "After working so hard, you and your a.s.sistants deserve a day less strenuous. You will be excused from your duties on the morrow with your lady's blessing. I will instruct the chamber servants to serve a simple nooning meal from the remainders of the feast."

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Montague - The Warlord Part 16 summary

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