Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(137)

Trevyn was still staring at his lap. “Mayhap,” he agreed quietly. Then, he lifted his head and looked at Keller. “But it has come to this. Gryffyn knows no fear or boundaries. He takes what he wants, he does what he wants, and even though he is my son I have grown to hate him over the years as one would hate an enemy. Do you know why I brokered this deal with William Marshal? Giving him my castle and lands? It was not to know peace with the English. Nay, that was not the reason. It was so that my son could not inherit these lands that have belonged to my family for generations. Instead, Gryffyn will inherit lands in England, a country he hates intensely.”

It was a shocking admission. Keller’s rage at the old man had calmed significantly by the time Trevyn was finished. In fact, he understood his reasoning completely.

“But you made your daughter part of this deal,” he pointed out softly. “You offered to marry her to an Englishman of the Marshal’s choosing.”

Trevyn nodded. “I know,” he said. “I wanted it that way. At least it would remain somewhat in the family if Chrystobel married the new lord of Nether. At least my grandchildren would inherit it, but not my grandchildren through my son. I do not want that line to have anything to do with what is so beloved by the d’Einens. I pray every night that my son will die without having issue and that his evil ways will die out with him. The House of d’Einen is a good family, my lord. But Gryffyn has tainted the name.”

Keller sighed loudly, glancing over at William for the man’s reaction. William looked at Keller as if to say how can we become angry with him now? Keller finally cleared his throat softly.

“Where is your son?” he asked quietly. “I do not want to kill the man. I only wish to locate him.”

Trevyn shook his head. “He has more than likely left the fortress,” he said, sounding defeated. “He has a friend he cavorts with, a local lord named Colvyn ap Gwynwynwyn. The man lives at Castell Mallwyd, about a half day’s ride from here.”

“And you believe he went there?”

“It is possible.”

Keller glanced at William again, both men knowing that there wasn’t much more to be said on the subject. It was assumed that Gryffyn had left the fortress. After a moment, Keller rose from his seat, as did William. The knights began to move away from the table, heading for the hall entry.

“You will tell me if he returns,” Keller said to Trevyn. “Meanwhile, my soldiers will be manning this castle and her walls. Your soldiers, particularly since they are loyal to your son, will be kept elsewhere and watched over by my men. Today, the English will assume the full mantle of Nether Castle.”

Trevyn merely nodded, resignation in his tone. “As you say.”

Keller’s gaze lingered on him. “And you, my lord?” he asked quietly. “Will I have your loyalty as well?”

Trevyn was looking at his lap again. “I cannot say I am readily an English subject,” he said. “At least, not yet. But I promise you that you will have no trouble from me.”

“For now, I will accept that.”

Without another word, Keller and William quit the hall, closing the door behind them. Once the door was shut and the room returned to the cold, dark, and cavernous chamber, leaving Trevyn quite alone, the old man signed heavily and buried his face in his hands. After a moment, a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob burst from his lips, first one and then another. He kept his hands over his eyes, silently weeping, as a panel near the hearth shifted and a figure emerged.

Gryffyn appeared in the shadows, his gaze on his father. He had been hiding in the passage used by the servants to travel to and from the kitchen area, a secondary passage that was submerged in the thickness of the walls of the great hall. Unless one was a native of Nether, the passage was easily concealed and therefore not easily known. But Trevyn knew about it and he also knew that Gryffyn was hiding in it, listening to the entire conversation with the English. As he wept, he wept for himself. He was the coward de Poyer had accused him of being.

“Excellent, Father,” Gryffyn said quietly. “Now they will let their guard down. They will not be looking for me within the fortress any longer.”

Trevyn wiped at his eyes. “You heard what they said,” he muttered. “You told your sister to kill her husband. How could you do such a thing?”

Gryffyn’s features hardened. “How could she not do such a thing?” he countered savagely. “The foolish bitch has betrayed me and she will pay. I will kill her before this day his finished.”

Trevyn continued wiping at his eyes. “If you do, her husband will kill you,” he said. “You heard the man. He is already protective of her.”

Gryffyn was near the table. In a flash, he marched to his father and clubbed the man in the jaw, sending him to the floor. Gryffyn grabbed the knife on the table, the one used to cut the bread, and pounced on his father as the man struggled on the wooden floor. Holding the knife to his father’s throat, he snarled into the man’s face.

“I will kill her,” he repeated, hissing. “Chrystobel has disobeyed me and for that, she will pay with her life. Izlyn, too, because she does not deserve to live, the imperfect and foul child that she is. She is an embarrassment to the d’Einen name. I will be done with these women who disobey me and then I will be done with you because you brokered this contract that would see the English assume my inheritance. I should have killed you when you negotiated the deal behind my back but I did not. I heard you tell those Saesneg bastards why you gave away my legacy. You hate me and I hate you. Now, I will take back what is rightfully mine and rid Nether of the English scum forever.”