The Warrior Poet by Kathryn Le Veque

Author:Kathryn Le Veque [Le Veque, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing
Published: 2013-11-16T05:00:00+00:00

'She was the Beauty of my passion.'

~Chronicles of Christian St. John

Vl. XI, p. CLVI

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"The moment we receive word from Christian, I want you and Jasper to ride north and access the situation. Is that clear?"

Quinton St. John eyed his father. The man was drunker than he had ever been in his entire life, sweating and pale-lipped and irrational. But, because he was an obedient son, he nodded firmly.

"Aye, Da. As you say."

Jean tried to set his chalice down on the table of his solar, but he missed. The cup clattered to the floor and Jean cursed softly, grasping the crystal decanter and drinking from the neck.

"And if your brother has been foolish enough to allow himself to become entangled within the de Gare bitch's lies, you will truss him up and return him to me for judgment. Do you understand?"

Quinton stared at his father. The man's intoxication only seemed to fuel his hatred towards the de Gares, a hatred that certainly did not require any additional support. But if, perchance, Christian acted foolishly towards his de Gare captive as Maggie had suggested, then Quinton had no doubt that their father's hatred would be blind to the St. John bloodlines. A traitor knew no family ties. Even the Demon.

In faith, he loved his brother dearly and could not comprehend the notion that Christian would willingly choose to disregard seventy years of family honor simply for the virtue of a captive woman. But his brother was a rogue of legendary proportions and Quinton would not be at all surprised if he had indeed bedded the wench, if only to strip her of her dignity and bring her to bear on the fact that she was a prisoner of the Demon of Eden.

Aye, Christian was deeply loyal to the Feud. He had returned from the king's service to help Jean and Quinton triumph over Alex de Gare once and for all, and to suggest that he might be softening his stance in the hypnotic presence of Alex's daughter was pure foolishness. No woman could make him forget his directive, and especially not a de Gare.

At least... he hoped not.

Jean rose from his seat, clumsily dropping the crystal decanter in the process. The commotion of breaking glass and loud curses broke Quinton from his train of thought and he struggled to respond to the question put forth to him by his drunken father.

"I understand completely," he replied quietly, praying that he would not be facing such a situation. Christian was a far better fighter than he and he did not relish the idea of meeting his angry brother in arms should he be required to enforce his father's directive. "But if I bring Christian here, what of the woman?"

"The bitch?" Jean snarled mockingly, looking about for another flask of wine. "Kill her. Then you will cut off her head and bring it to me for delivery to Alex de Gare."

Shocked, Quinton gazed uncertainly at his father. "You... you cannot be serious, da. To kill a wo….

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