That brought a reaction from all four of the men. A couple of them reached out to pull the soldier back, away from Cole.
“De Velt?” the soldier repeated, sounding far less confident than he had only moments earlier. He was an older man and, suddenly, fear flickered across his face. “He’s the one who stormed the borders years ago.”
“He did.”
“I remember White Crag Castle,” he said, remembering those horrors from long ago and without the wherewithal to keep his mouth shut. “I remember what your father did to those men. I was serving at Etal Castle at the time and I remember how… God’s bones, what he did to those men. Your father is a monster!”
He realized too late he probably shouldn’t have said that and his companions pulled him away even further, out of the range of the enormous knight. He had drink in his veins, as they all did, which fed both courage and stupidity.
But Cole had seen that same fear in the soldier’s eyes too many times to count. He didn’t really care that the man called his father a monster because it was the truth. Ajax de Velt had done some monstrous things.
He was used to hearing his father called such things.
And he used it to his advantage.
“Then you will get out of my sight or I may do to you what my father did to his enemies those years ago,” he said. “Leave now or suffer the de Velt wrath.”
The soldier turned around and nearly plowed his comrades over in his haste to leave. As the men began to scramble, Addax turned to the musicians and quietly commanded them to start playing again as he dragged his brother back over to their table. Cole remained in place, watching the soldiers leave through the back door of the tavern. When they were gone, he headed back to their table. The buzz of conversation and the music gradually returned to the room.
Things slowly went back to normal.
“Well,” Cole said as he sat heavily in his chair. “That was disappointing. I think I was hoping for a fight.”
Addax grinned but Essien was still angry he hadn’t been allowed to retaliate. Frowning, he poured himself more wine as Addax noticed movement on the far side of the tavern.
“Cole,” he said quietly. “Look.”
Cole glanced over his shoulder to see several Scots also leaving through the rear entrance, the one that opened into the stable yard. It was where the soldiers had gone, but it seemed strange that the Scots should follow. They were leaving in the dead of night, heading into a village that had shut down at sunset. The only thing for miles was uninhabited landscape.
It was most curious.
“Did you get a good look at them?” he asked Addax.
“Nay,” Addax replied. “Did you?”
Cole shook his head. “I did not,” he said. “I am concerned that mayhap there was a man among them who recognized us from our days in William’s royal entourage. It’s not as if you and your brother are not recognizable.”
Addax conceded the point. “Even if they did recognize us, why would they leave? For what purpose?”
Cole shook his head. “I do not know,” he said thoughtfully. “But if there was a man among them who recognized us, he heard me give my name as de Velt to the soldier and without a Scots brogue. I’ve been pretending to be MacEacharn for the past two years.”
That thought hadn’t occurred to Addax. “Then mayhap we should retire for the evening. Or leave altogether. Mayhap they’ve gone to warn others.”
“They have no reason to, but you may be correct,” he said. “Mayhap we should find lodgings in the stables this night, just to be safe.”
The decision was made. Cole’s saddlebags were underneath the table along with Addax and Essien’s, and as he bent over to pull them out, the tavern owner approached them.
The man seemed to be rather nervous.
“M’lords?” he said, looking at all three of them but mostly looking at Cole. “Forgive me, m’lord, but I heard you say that you are de Velt?”
Cole looked at the man, feeling intolerant of any nonsense or judgment this night. “Everyone within earshot tonight heard the same thing,” he said, unfriendly. “What do you want?”
The tavern owner was wringing his chapped, scarred hands. “I thought you should know,” he said. “You must warn the other warlords.”
“Warn them about what?”
The tavern owner jabbed a finger at the rear door. “The Scots,” he said. “I did not want to say anything while they were still here, but now that they are gone, I will tell you. I heard them speaking of an army moving south, through the Kielder Pass.”
That caught Cole’s attention. “A Scots army moving through Kielder Pass?” he repeated. “Are you certain of this?”
The tavern owner nodded emphatically. “I’ve lived my entire life here,” he said. “I understand the Gaelic. The Scots spoke of it openly, probably thinking I would not know their language, but they spoke of meeting up with the army coming through Kielder Pass. They did not say why, or when, but I thought you should know.”
Cole was stunned by what he was hearing. “Did they say anything else to that regard?”
The man shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “But I’m English. If I hear something from those damnable Scots, I am not going to keep it a secret.”
Cole looked at Addax and Essien, shocked, before digging into his purse and handing over a silver coin to the tavern owner to thank him for the information. As the man scurried away, Essien hissed.
“What do we do?” he demanded. “They are already coming into England!”
Cole pulled his saddlebags from underneath the table. “We leave,” he said. “That is what we do. If they are coming through Kielder Pass, they are going to run headlong into The Keld. Es, you ride for Pelinom. Ride hard and tell my father everything. Ad, you and I will return to The Keld and warn them of what is coming. Mayhap William the Rough is moving swifter than we thought.”
It was a horrifying thought. It had been their understanding that nothing would happen until the summer months, but that was evidently incorrect.
The time was now.
On a cold, clear night with a bright moon hanging in the sky and scattered clouds blown around by an icy wind, Essien headed north to Pelinom Castle as Cole and Addax headed back for The Keld, trying to avoid the Scots they knew to be on the same road. They had to ride through forests and across streams, which slowed them down. And when the moon began to sink low in the sky, they were hindered by the threat of complete darkness but, still, they pushed on.
They had no choice.
They had to get to The Keld before the Scots did.
CHAPTER NINE
The Keld
“You must be mad. Scots? Here?”
It was about an hour before dawn, with the moon hanging low in the sky and the hint of light on the eastern horizon. Alastor had been awoken out of a dead sleep by Anteaus and Atlas standing in his doorway. Anteaus had the night watch, so he was in full protection, but Atlas was only half-dressed. He’d been sleeping until his youngest brother yanked him and Ares from their warm beds.
Scots are on the approach.
Now, they were pulling Alastor out of bed.
“They are at the gate, Papa,” Anteaus said grimly. “They are demanding to speak with you.”