Devil's Dominion by Kathryn Le Veque

casually, eyeing the man as he reached for a lopsided cup of ale. “I’ve not yet seen your prisoner this morning. How is she faring?”
    Bretton was back to his usual emotionless expression. “I would not know,” he said. “I have not seen her this morning.”
    Grayton took a bite of his bread. “I did not send the physic to her last night,” he said. “I had the odd feeling that you did not approve of my removing her from the vault, so I did not want to press the matter. If she dies, she dies. Her fate is consigned to God.”
    Bretton took great slabs of tart white cheese and put it on his bread, taking a big bite. “She was coughing last night when I spoke with her but she did not seem to be deathly ill,” he replied, chewing. “In fact, she seemed quite well.”
    Grayton looked at him with surprise. “She did?” he said. “Most interesting. Mayhap she is healing, after all.”
    Bretton didn’t say anything for a moment as he chewed his meal. Swallowing what was in his mouth, he spoke.
    “Have you thought about what you shall do when we are finished with de Velt?” he asked.
    Grayton shook his head. “I confess, I have not,” he said. “I always thought we would move on to other targets.”
    Bretton glanced at him curiously. “Targets? What targets?”
    Grayton shrugged. “We must continue to pay the men,” he said. “I assumed we would continue doing what we are doing, even after we confiscate de Velt’s holdings. Why? Did you have another idea about it?”
    Bretton took another bite of bread, chewing thoughtfully. “I do not know,” he said. “My goal has always been to reclaim de Velt’s properties and kill the man to avenge my father. After that, I figured that I would live in one of these castles and administer my domain.”
    Grayton nodded, still not entirely sure why Bretton had asked the question about life after conquest. He’d only asked it after spending time with de Velt’s daughter. Grayton was coming to wonder if the woman hadn’t said something to Bretton to get the man’s mind working. In any case, he picked up another piece of bread and shoved it in his mouth.
    “We do not have to decide anything at this moment,” he said, mouth full. “Complete conquest of de Velt’s holdings is still a long way off. We have four more castles to claim and that will not prove easy. For now, I will go find Dallan and the other commanders and send them to you. Shall I send them here?”
    Bretton nodded. “Aye,” he said. “And make sure the grooms have the chargers prepared. Make sure the horses are well fed and watered.”
    Grayton nodded. “If you are agreeable, I will also make sure your prisoner is well fed and watered.”
    Bretton merely shrugged as if he didn’t care one way or the other. With a quick glance at his liege, Grayton wandered out of the hall to complete his tasks as Bretton remained behind, eating the warmed mutton and gravy the servants brought around, watching the soldiers sleeping in the hall become lucid.
    Men were stretching, groaning, and farting. A few were pissing in the fire pit. Bretton looked at his men, seeing brutal and seasoned soldiers, men who would probably continue as mercenaries long after Bretton decided to settle down and remain in one place. The more he thought on it, the more he realized he didn’t want to continue conquest after he had confiscated all of de Velt’s holdings.
    At some point, he wanted to stop and enjoy the fruits of his labor and impeccable planning. He knew it was strange for a mercenary to think that way, but he couldn’t help it. At some point in his life, he realized he wanted peace. He wasn’t out for everyone’s blood, only de Velt’s. But until such time as he spilled it, he would continue to kill, maim, and burn until it got him what he wanted.
    So he sat there and brooded over the future until the men began to crowd around the feasting table where he was sitting, grabbing at food and drink. When that happened,