BlackWolfe

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  Hector shook his head. Like most of the de Norville brood, he had a variation of his mother’s red hair and all of his father’s good looks. Tall, muscular, and sinewy, he had a reputation as being particularly kind and congenial.

  “My baby sister has grown up,” Hector said, looking her over. His brother, Apollo, was standing next to him and he looked at the man as he pointed to Cassiopeia. “Well? Would you have known her?”

  Apollo was a very big man with an unruly crown of dark red hair. He was only a year younger than Hector but his personality was worlds away. He was aggressive, and hotheaded, and usually the first one into a fight. But Cassiopeia remembered him as being particularly protective of her and she had a soft spot for him.

  “I would have known her anywhere,” Apollo said after a moment. “But I had fairly forgotten just how pretty she was.”

  As Cassiopeia blushed at her brother’s compliment, squealing caught her attention. Women were rushing from the keep, rushing in her direction, but it wasn’t until they came closer that she realized it was her sister-in-law, Evelyn de Wolfe de Norville, and Evelyn’s sister, Katheryn de Wolfe Hage.

  The ladies were squealing excitedly as they reached her, swarming over her, and arms were going around her to hug her. Cassiopeia had to laugh at all of the attention.

  “God’s Teeth,” she exclaimed as Evelyn squeezed the life from her. “I had no idea I would be so well received. Had I known, I would have come home much sooner.”

  Evelyn laughed. A short, elegant woman with red hair and a lovely smile, she was married to Hector, who beamed proudly at his wife.

  “I wish you had come home sooner,” Evelyn said. “We have all missed you so very much. Your parents have been so lonely without their isean.”

  She began making little clucking sounds, like a chicken, and Cassiopeia laughed. “I’d forgotten all about that name until I returned home,” she said. “I will admit, no one called me that in London.”

  Evelyn looped her arm affectionately through Cassiopeia’s. “You are too pretty to be called a chicken any longer,” she said. “Come inside. There are many people waiting to see you. It has been such a long time.”

  Cassiopeia allowed Evelyn to lead her away from the carriage as Katheryn took her other arm. “It has been a long time,” Cassiopeia agreed, smiling at both sisters. “The last time I saw everyone was when we gathered for James and Rose’s wedding at Christmas five years ago. Before that, it was when we buried my sisters. It has been nine years since that time. It… it seems like a lifetime ago.”

  The mood of the conversation took a downturn at the mention of Cassiopeia’s dead sisters. Athena de Norville de Wolfe and Helene de Norville de Wolfe, several years older than Cassiopeia, had drowned in a terrible accident nine years ago along with four of their collective children.

  It had been a horrific event in the lives of the de Wolfe and de Norville families because the women had been married to the eldest sons of William and Jordan. It had stripped Paris and Caladora of two of their three daughters and four of their grandchildren, something Cassiopeia wasn’t sure her mother ever could, or would, recover from.

  That left Cassiopeia as the sole surviving de Norville sister.

  In fact, Paris didn’t want his remaining daughter to return to London after the deaths of her sisters, but it was Caladora who had insisted. Never a selfish woman, she didn’t want her surviving daughter to remain simply to comfort the grief-stricken. She wanted Cassiopeia to return to her life in London and to a sense of normalcy.

  Cassiopeia had gone, but the guilt that she’d left her family at such a time had followed.

  Even now, she could feel that guilt, especially as the subject of her sisters was broached. It brought back instant memories of tall, elegant Athena with golden-red hair, and blonde, vivacious Helene. Athena had been rather serious and responsible, while Helene had been the life of any gathering. The woman could talk to anyone and make them feel welcome.

  Truly, Cassiopeia missed them deeply but, oddly enough, there had been no mention of her sisters from her family during all the years she’d been gone to London and even upon her return. It was like an open wound that people were afraid of picking at, yet it was something that was unavoidable. Cassiopeia wondered if her return reminded her parents of what they’d lost those years ago… daughters.

  Therefore, she treaded carefully.

  Evelyn and Katheryn must have thought the same thing because as they were heading towards the keep, with Caladora and Paris, and their two sons walking behind them, they lowered their voices so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.

  “It does seem like a long time ago,” Evelyn agreed quietly.

  “Does my mother ever speak of my sisters?”

  Evelyn hesitated a moment before shaking her head. “Not really,” she said. “Sometimes she might refer to something one of them said, or mayhap something from their childhood, but she does not remember them frequently. She has not since the beginning. And when my brothers remarried… she was warm and gracious about it, but there was something in her eyes that spoke of sorrow. As if their remarriages were somehow truly the end of her daughters’ memories.”

  Cassiopeia casually glanced over her shoulder, seeing her mother and brothers a few feet behind, in quiet conversation. She returned her focus to Evelyn.

  “And I have been gone these many years,” she murmured. “I wondered how my parents were dealing with the loss but I never had the courage to ask. I should have remained, Evie. When all of that happened, I should have remained here.”

  Evelyn shook her head. “You did as you were told to do,” she said. “Your parents believed they were doing what was best for you by sending you back to London and to your life there.”

  Cassiopeia sighed faintly. “No one ever talks of it, so how am I to know if it was the right thing to do?” she said. “The missives my mother sent me after the event just seemed so hopeless in tone. I suppose that it is different when you lose a son or husband to war; they are warriors and death in battle is always expected. It is also different when you lose a daughter or sister to childbirth; that, too, is expected. It is God’s will. But losing my sisters to such a terrible accident… how do you reconcile such things?”

  On her other side, Katheryn squeezed her arm gently. “I cannot imagine that you do,” she said quietly. “But you have returned now and your mother will take great comfort in that. Surely she is very glad to have you home.”

  Cassiopeia’s thoughts lingered on her sisters for a moment longer before Katheryn’s words took on another meaning to her. She snorted softly as the subject veered away from her lost sisters.

  “She is already trying to marry me off,” she said, a little louder so her mother could hear her. “She is telling me that I have my choice of Kevin or Nathaniel Hage, or of Tommy or Edward de Wolfe. I think she is trying to be rid of me.”

  As Evelyn and Katheryn grinned, they were nearing the keep entry and another squeal filled the air. Startled by the sound, Cassiopeia looked up to see Penelope de Wolfe charging from the glowing entry, rushing towards her at breakneck speed. Behind her followed a gaggle of children, nieces and nephews, and soon they were all swarming around Cassiopeia, laughing and hugging.

  Cassiopeia worked her way through her brothers’ children, kissing little cheeks, but she made a point of grasping Penelope by the arms, taking a good look at her.

  “Penny,” she gasped. “My God, you’ve grown into a beautiful lass. Surely there are men throwing themselves at your feet.”

  Penelope flushed a dull red. A truly magnificent young woman in her sixteenth year, she had her father’s dark hair and hazel-golden eyes, and was an exquisite beauty from head to toe. But she’d also been raised as a knight, and fought like a warrior, and had never fostered in her life. She knew nothing of ladylike pursuits, only of battles and swords and armor. Therefore, Cassiopeia’s statement had her feeling awkward and embarrassed.

  “If they are throwing them
selves at my feet, it is because my sword has put them there,” she said defiantly. “I have no time for such nonsense. But let us not speak of me. Let us speak of you. I have missed you, Cassie. I am so glad that you are home.”

  Cassiopeia put her arm around Penelope’s shoulders, heading towards the keep once more, now with an entire gang of men, women, and children following her.

  “And I have missed you,” she said. “I wrote to your mother, once, to ask her if you could come and stay with me in London, but she said you were too young. I have a suspicion she simply did not want to let you out of her sight.”

  Penelope grinned. “It is not her,” she said. “It is my father. He is the one who will not let me out of his sight.”

  Cassiopeia shook her head sadly. “Poor Uncle William,” she said, glancing up as they approached the open-door entry to The Lyceum’s keep. “I am so excited to finally be here. It seems as if it has been forever since we have all been together.”

  Penelope took her by the hand and began leading her into the warm, stale hall. “Come along,” she said. “You must see everyone. Scott and Troy and Atty and James are here. James is already in trouble with my mother because he sang a nasty song!”

  Cassiopeia giggled because Penelope was. “I have missed James and his songs,” she said, looking around. “Where is Rosie, his wife? And Moira, her sister?”

  Penelope was looking over to the eastern side of the hall, pointing. “Over there,” she said. “See them all gathering?”

  Cassiopeia nodded eagerly, turning to see if her mother and father were following. They were, and she held out her hand to her mother. Caladora waved her daughter on because she could see how excited Cassiopeia was. She wanted to rush to the family. Hand in hand, Penelope and Cassiopeia scurried across the hall, over the massive feasting table where the de Norville, de Wolfe, and Hage families were gathering.

  The feast itself was a big one. Not only were the de Norville, de Wolfe, and Hage families gathering, but other families and other houses were gathering as well. It was a veritable collection of the strong and the mighty households of the north of England, and everyone who was anyone was here on this night.

  Food, wine, and conversation flowed.

  The hall itself was two stories in height, with a minstrel gallery overhead. It took up the entire entry level of The Lyceum, and had the very interesting feature of having several enormous doors that, when opened, gave the impression that revelers were dining on an open terrace. Great Norman arches lined the walls, with doors built into them, and the entire eastern side of the hall opened up to a stone-paved yard that had steps down to a fish pond. In the moonlight, it was particularly romantic if one was inclined to that sort of thing.

  From a military standpoint, however, it was also foolishly exposed and not at all conducive to protection, but the builders of it had seen to unique features because of that – the stairwells leading up into the living quarters of the keep had massive iron doors on them, impossible to breach once bolted, with an ingenious locking system. Even if the enemy made it into the hall, there was no way to breach the stairwells or even the minstrel gallery because it was constructed as an overhang – there was no way to scale the walls or secure a ladder. The enemy could get into the hall but that was the end of it.

  There was nowhere else to go.

  But when the place was lit up with the light of a thousand candles, and the gentle night breeze was blowing in from the big, open doors, it was truly a glorious place to be. And Cassiopeia was thrilled to be right in the middle of it.

  The families at the big feasting table saw her and Penelope rushing over. Jordan was the first one to embrace the young woman, followed by William, who commented on how lovely she’d become. Jemma Hage was next, a round little Scotswoman who was fiery but loving. Aunt Jemma’s temper was legendary, and she happened to be married to one of the biggest, strongest men on the border.

  A massive man of epic strength, Kieran Hage was the epitome of a gentle giant. In his prime, Kieran had been a man of legendary strength, a man of infinite patience and a calm, kind manner. With a wife like Jemma, Kieran had gained the reputation of being something of a saint as well.

  St. Kieran, the offspring called him. The only man who could tame the savage beastie.

  As Penelope pulled Cassiopeia into a group that included most of her brothers and several Hage siblings, Paris and Caladora met up with Jordan and William, and Jemma and Kieran. The six of them stood there a moment, watching their children welcome home the youngest de Norville child and nearly the only one out of the entire brood who had gone so far away to foster. Everyone else had remained local to the north, but Cassiopeia had some of her father’s wandering spirit in her, and she’d gone to London for the excitement that court could bring.

  It had made her into something elegant and worldly.

  “Well?” Paris said proudly. “What do you think of her? An astonishing creature, is she not?”

  Everyone nodded to varying degrees. “Magnificent,” Jordan said as she watched Cassiopeia animatedly chat with Scott and his wife, Avrielle. “Look how kind and gracious she is. This is the first time she’s met Scott’s new wife.”

  They all knew what she meant; the woman who had taken her sister’s place by Scott’s side. Even though they’d been married for years, it was still the first time Cassiopeia was meeting the “new” Lady de Wolfe. Standing next to Scott and Avrielle were Troy and his new wife, Rhoswyn. Each woman was filling the void left by Athena and Helene’s passing, which made it rather tricky when introducing them to the sister of the women who had come before them.

  But it was of no consequence to Cassiopeia. She was kind and mannerly, greeting each woman with a kiss to the cheek.

  “Why should she not be kind to Avrielle and Rhoswyn?” Paris said as he observed his generous daughter. “They are part of the family now and it is something we must all accept.”

  William and Kieran looked to him, hearing the pain in his tone in spite of his words, which was surprising. Paris had always been the strong one when it came to their loss, mostly for the sake of his wife. She was an emotional creature and he had remained strong since that tragic day, just for her. But it was clear, by that brief statement, that there was still anguish present.

  One never overcame losing a child.

  “They are fine women,” William said after a moment. “Scott and Troy are very happy and they make wonderful additions to our family.”

  Paris looked at William, sensing that he might have possibly offended William with his statement, and he simply put up a hand. “I did not mean anything against either lady,” he said, his gaze moving over to the group of young men and women. “But I will admit that in times like this, I miss my daughters the most. I cannot help but think it should be Tee standing next to Scott, and Helene next Troy. As I said, that is nothing against Avrielle and Rhoswyn at all. It is simply that the family is all gathered, yet I still feel as if something is… missing.”

  He’d referred to Athena by her nickname, as Tee, something the entire family had called her. It was a rare instance when Athena and Helene were spoken of, yet at this moment, it seemed appropriate. Appropriate because it was a family gathering and what Paris said was true. As Caladora reached over to pat her husband comfortingly on the arm, William spoke quietly.

  “I feel it, too,” he admitted. “We have all lost children precious to us. Jordan and I lost a baby girl years ago, and Kieran and Jemma lost their son, Christian, almost ten years ago. There will always be the ghosts of those we love lingering at gatherings like this, but I feel them and I take comfort in it. I believe they are all here, even if we do not see them. Do you know one of the things I remember the most?”

  Paris shook his head faintly. “What is that?”

  The corners of William’s mouth twitched with a smile as he looked over at his sons and their new wives. “I remember how Helene would giggle uncontrollably and Troy would put his hand over her mouth to quiet her,”
he said, chuckling at the memory. “I still see blonde, vibrant Helene and I can hear that high-pitched giggle that was both annoying and infectious.”

  Both Paris and Caladora smiled at the memory. “She bit Troy, once, when he tried tae cover her mouth,” Caladora said. “After that, he started pinchin’ her when she would giggle out of control.”

  William snorted in agreement. “I remember,” he said. “Those two were a pair.”

  Paris was looking at Rhoswyn, Troy’s wife, a lovely woman who had been raised as a warrior by her father. She had been quite awkward when she and Troy first married, but she’d settled into married life, and into behaving like a woman, quite easily. She was a proud tribute to her proud husband.

  “They were a pair, but Troy has more than a match in Rhoswyn,” he said. “That woman is more terrifying than most men.”

  As William and Kieran nodded in agreement, Jordan shushed them. “She has proven tae be an excellent wife and mother,” she said. “Ye’ll not say anythin’ slanderous against my Rhos.”

  Jordan was particularly protective over Troy’s wife, probably because she felt such a kinship to her. Rhoswyn was Scots, after all, and her marriage to Troy had been a bargain to cement peace. Fortunately, it had developed into a love match, but Jordan knew what it was like to be a Scots amongst a sea of English. Paris understood her perspective. In fact, he put up a hand to quell her.

  “I would never do that,” he said. “Rhoswyn has been an excellent wife and mother. But as we are speaking on wives, I have something more to say on this subject with regards to my youngest daughter. Kieran, you have two eligible sons. I will now hear of your interest for Cassiopeia as a wife for either Kevin or Nathaniel. What have you to offer for her hand?”

  Kieran lifted his eyebrows, his dark eyes widening with surprise. “A wife for Kevin or Nathaniel?” he repeated. “Paris, we have never discussed this. In fact, this is the first time I am hearing of this where it pertains to Cassie.”

  Paris pointed to his daughter, now over towards the end of the table where the two young men in question, Kevin and Nathaniel, were speaking to her.