Page 2 of Historical Hotties
Marcil poured himself some wine, ruby-red liquid trickling out of the decanter. “I am dealing with a spoiled lord,” he said pointedly. “I am dealing with a man who was not completely truthful when he summoned me. You want me to destroy Edenthorpe Castle but I am telling you now that it will be impossible with only eighty-one men and a big army inside her walls. Therefore, I must be clever about this.”
“What do you mean?”
Marcil drank the wine, smacking his lips to savor the tart flavor. “You have stated that the Duke of Doncaster is not a great warlord.”
Catesby shook his head. “He does not go to war constantly if that’s what you mean,” he said. “Edenthorpe is quite peaceful.”
“Good. That makes my job easier.”
“Then you will accept the terms?”
“Explain them again to me so there is no mistake.”
Catesby had gone from frustrated to eager. “If you manage to capture Edenthorpe, we will split her spoils,” he said. “I will get the fortress and I will split her wealth with you.”
“I will have first pick.”
“Very well,” Catesby said, somewhat unhappily. “But Doncaster has a granddaughter. She belongs to me. I have a son, you know. He will make an excellent Duke of Doncaster.”
Marcil cocked an eyebrow, a smile on his lips. “Ah,” he said. “So there is more behind this than a land dispute. You want something more.”
Catesby nodded without regret. “I want Doncaster and Edenthorpe,” he said. “When I marry my son to the heiress, the land dispute becomes null. All of it shall be mine.”
Marcil thought on those words for a few moments before downing the entire glass of wine and setting the cup back on the table.
“Then I must make plans,” he said. “I will need to inspect the castle myself and see what I am truly up against.”
Catesby looked at him warily. “You cannot simply walk up to the castle,” he said. “There are guards everywhere. They will want to know why you are there.”
But Marcil waved him off. “Do not worry so much,” he said. “There are other ways of inspecting the castle.”
“What ways?”
Marcil grinned, revealing yellowed teeth in a gesture that was innately evil. “There are ways,” he said evasively. “That is why I have come,n’est pas?”
He was gone before Catesby could question him any further, out of the solar and into the yard of the small fortress where his well-dressed, well-fed mercenaries waited. Catesby made his way to the window overlooking the bailey, watching Marcil speak with his men.
He was starting to think he’d made a deal with the devil.
In truth, he had.
Hell was coming.
CHAPTER ONE
There were peopleeverywhere.
In the midst of a bright spring day, upon the cusp of noon, Cassius de Wolfe and his men had entered the outskirts of the village of Doncaster and proceeded into a crowd of people, the mass of which Cassius had not seen outside of London.
But it wasn’t just any crowd.
It was averyhappy crowd.
It didn’t take very long for Cassius to figure out that there was some kind of festival going on, for the women had flowers in their hair and the men were drinking from big, wooden cups overflowing with cheap and frothy ale. Children ran about, chasing one another, with garlands hanging around their necks. Even the dogs had flower collars.
It was a joyful place.
Intrigued, Cassius and his men continued towards the center of town.
