Medieval Master Warlords by Kathryn Le Veque

the primary rules of conquest.  Even now, six castles along the Marches were virtually women-free at de Velt’s order.  But at Pelinom, apparently the rules were changed.
    “She must warm his bed,” one of the other generals, Atreus, spoke.  He was an older man, wiser, and had known Jax for most of his life. He was probably one of the few who could get away with speaking his mind. “There is no other alternative.”
    “She administers the coffers of Pelinom,” Amadeo replied, smacking his lips to the tart wine. “Beyond that, I can tell you no more.”
    “There are seven women here,” Caelen spoke, his mouth full.
    That raised a few eyebrows. “Seven?” Atreus repeated incredulously. “Why would de Velt keep seven women here?”
    “Because that woman has bewitched him.”
    They all looked over at Henley, seated at the end of the table and well into his third cup of wine.  When he saw the attention on him, he looked at Amadeo and gestured with a sharp hand.
    “Am I wrong?” he asked Amadeo, the other knights. “She has cast a spell upon him somehow.  His attention is on her when it should be on our next target. She weeps and he folds like an idiot. Do you want to know why there are seven women still here? Because she asked it of him.  She cried and begged him not to do away with her women and, lo and behold, the women were not put away.”
    It was shocking news. Amadeo’s guarded glance moved around the table, wondering what the generals were thinking, ashamed and defensive on Jax’s behalf.  But the truth was that he sided with them.
    “He is our liege,” Amadeo reminded the group. “He may do as he pleases. If he wants to keep the women around, so be it.  It is not up to us to question him. I, for one, will not.”
    “He is breaking the rules he has set forth to the rest of us,” another general named Ares spoke.  He was the most opinionated of the group and risked much with his loud mouth. “He demands we do away with the weak and small at our garrisons yet he does not do the same.”
    “He is our liege,” Amadeo reminded him again, louder. “If you would care to question the man as to his reasons, be my guest.”
    Ares would not go so far as to question Jax.  Only a fool would do so and he was not completely foolish.  But Henley was now into his fourth cup of wine and his tongue was greatly loosened.
    “’Tis the lady who controls Pelinom, not de Velt,” he rumbled. “He would do anything for her.  Why do you think he cut down the enemy knight that was posted at the gatehouse? Because she begged him to.  She begged him to bury the man with the baby he fathered.  And he did it.”
    More stunning news; the generals did nothing more than glance uneasily at each other.  Did this woman have so much power over a man they believed to be beyond such wiles?  It was incredible to say the least. But Amadeo felt as if he was making excuses for their liege in front of the others.
    “Again I say, if you will be the first to question him about his motives, then by all means do so.”
    Henley grumbled. “She’s a witch, I say. And witches must be killed.”
    “Touch her and de Velt will have your hide,” Amadeo said pointedly. “She is untouchable.”
    “She is a witch,” Henley repeated, draining his cup. “How many fortresses have we seized? How many battles have we faced? De Velt is the Devil himself in battle and smites all who oppose him. He promised us riches beyond our wildest dreams when we set forth to battle on the Scots border.  A garrison for each of us, money in our pockets.  But what has happened instead? He finds a lovely chit at Pelinom and his mind has been destroyed. His will is gone.  And it is all that… that woman’s doing.”
    Amadeo was watching the hairy man work himself up into a rage. “If I were you,” he said slowly, “I would curb my tongue. Nothing about Jax de Velt has been destroyed. If he hears you, then you shall find out just how strong he