Penelope opened her mouth to speak but something in the distance caught her attention. There seemed to be something moving in the shadows of the marsh, something she couldn’t quite make out. It seemed to flicker and roll, and just as she narrowed her eyes to get a better look at it, it quickly vanished. Thinking it was a trick of the moonlight, she returned her attention to Kevin only to see her father strolling up in the darkness.
“Greetings, Papa,” she said as William approached. “All is well.”
William came upon the pair, glancing at Kevin to see if he could determine the course of the conversation and the mood in the air, but Kevin met his gaze steadily. There was nothing in his expression suggesting anything other than a normal situation and William was relieved.
“That is good to know,” he said, pausing as his gaze moved out over the ghostly landscape. It was indeed still and quiet. After a moment, he looked at his daughter. “Leave the night watch to Kevin. You must get some sleep. You have an important day ahead of you.”
Penelope frowned. “I will retire soon,” she said, trying to ignore her father now that she knew why he had come. “A few more hours and I will come to bed.”
“Nay,” William said, more firmly. “You will come now. Kevin can handle the north perimeter. Scott and Troy are off to the west while the rest of the knights are spread out. You are not needed.”
Penelope’s frown deepened. “Papa, truly, I am not tired in the least,” she insisted. “I do not want….”
She was cut off by an unearthly howl that came from the direction of the marsh. It was so loud that it literally reverberated off of the trees, tents, or anything else that happened to provide a measure of sound resistance. Penelope whirled in the direction of the marsh, as did Kevin and William. Penelope was armed, as was Kevin, and the broadswords came out.
It had been a terrible and shattering sound, one that sent hearts to racing with apprehension. In this vast and unfamiliar land, it was an unwelcome and unsettling noise. They stood there, watching and waiting, as the entire camp began to stir.
“What was that?” Penelope asked, rather breathlessly.
William was characteristically calm, his one good eye scrutinizing the moonlit lands. He slowly shook his head.
“I do not know,” he said. “A creature of some kind, I suppose. Hopefully the fires will keep it away.”
Penelope looked at her father with some fear in her expression. “A creature?” she repeated. “I have never heard any creature make that kind of noise.”
William wasn’t inclined to get worked up about it; the man was not easily spooked. He had learned long ago not to get agitated over things he could not control.
“If it shows itself, then we shall know what it is,” he said, his gaze lingering on the marshy area a moment longer before returning to his daughter. “Meanwhile, you will come with me and get some sleep. If you resist me, know that I will carry you over my shoulder.”
Penelope still had her sword up in front of her, defensively. The otherworldly howl still had the hair on the back of her neck on end. Before she could respond to her father, she could see a pair of men making their way towards them from the darkness of the camp. The first face she could make out was Kieran, looking as if he had just awoken from a deep sleep. He slept heavily and long these days, an old man whose health had seen better times. Next to him came another familiar face, a big and handsome man with graying blond hair. Penelope fixed on him.
“Did you hear that noise, Uncle Paris?” she asked eagerly. “Could that be the creatures you have told me lurk in these lands? The ones that followed the Northmen here those centuries ago?”
Sir Paris de Norville scratched his head as he glanced at William; William and Paris had been the best of friends since their days as squires, having served in the north and fought against the Scots side by side for more years than they cared to remember. Closer than brothers, they could generally read each other’s minds. At the moment, Paris was fairly certain that William was unhappy with him for filling Penelope’s head with wild tales of Wales. He tried not to look too guilty.
“It was an interesting sound, to be sure,” Paris said, avoiding her question. “We thought we heard it come from this direction.”
William nodded. “I believe so.”
“You did not see anything?”
“Nay.”
All eyes were trained on the marsh beneath the full moon. Paris pointed in the direction of the swampy and dark lands. “I saw a small lake to the north of the marsh when we rode in,” he said. “There is not much land in that direction. It all seems to be water.”
Kieran came to stand next to his son as Paris and William tried to calm Penelope. She had been trained as a knight, that was true, but she tended to get excited due to her young and passionate nature. As Kieran and Kevin scanned the silvery landscape for any hint of what might have made such a terrible sound, it was Kevin who finally spotted the source. He pointed a big finger towards the north.
“Father?” he said to Kieran, struggling to maintain a calm demeanor. “Do you see that?”
Kieran, old as he was, still had sharp eyesight. He was starting to see what his son was pointing at and he didn’t like it one bit. At first, he wasn’t sure he was seeing clearly but as the thing began to move and its form became clearer in the moonlight, Kieran fought down a sense of shock. He could hardly believe his eyes.
“Aye,” he muttered. “What in the hell is it?”
“I do not know.”
Kieran gazed at the sight a moment longer before turning to William, his expression grim. “How far is Rhydilian Castle from here?”
By now, William, Paris, and Penelope were also straining to catch a glimpse of what had Kieran and Kevin’s attention. They all saw it at nearly the same time, a very large and horrific vision that seemed to displace entire mounds of earth and swamp as it moved. Water sloshed and trees were uprooted in its path. It was, in truth, a terrifying and startling sight, and quite difficult to comprehend.
“Too far,” William growled. Still, he was on the move. “Too far but we have no choice. Rouse the camp and tell them to take only what they can carry on horseback. Leave everything else behind. Knights will hang back and form a line to give the others time to reach the castle. Kieran, Kevin; move.”
He didn’t even wait for the men to swing into action, knowing that they would without question. As Penelope stood there, eyes wide and mouth agape, William grabbed her and pulled her away with him.
The last thing Penelope heard as her father hurried her across the camp was another horrifying, unearthly howl, this one closer than the last. It was coming for them, this nightmare from the mysterious lands of the Welsh, looming closer and closer, perhaps attracted by the smell of human flesh. It was difficult to know why it came, only that it had, and all Penelope could think about was reaching her mother. She couldn’t even think about herself; all she knew was that she had to get her mother to safety.
Death approached.
CHAPTER THREE
By the time William and Penelope reached their tent, they could hear the sentries on the south side of the camp take up a common cry. It was enough to give William pause as, suddenly, men on horseback were charging through his encampment. Shoving Penelope into the tent, he went for his broadsword. Now, he was in battle mode and The Wolfe would spare no one. With his family at stake, especially his wife and daughter, he was in full warrior form. Old as he was, it was still an impressive sight to behold.
“Stay with your mother,” he commanded Penelope. “You will protect her, do you hear? Stay here.”
Penelope didn’t argue; she was in mail, with her broadsword in hand, and she pushed her startled mother to the ground near the brazier. There were a few other candles in the tent, giving off light, and she quickly doused them so they would not throw shadows against the hide walls of the shelter. If the enemy was upon them, she didn’t want them to be seen.
There was a good deal of shouting goin
g on in the darkness and she could hear the clash of swords. Most definitely she heard weapons being produced. She could also hear the thunder of horses and the roar of the approaching horror. Men were shouting and she could hear lines being formed. Suddenly, another woman appeared in their tent. She was small and rather round, but she was feisty and quick. Wrapped in a heavy cloak, with her dark hair escaping its net, the Lady Jemma Scott Hage was making an appearance.
“What in the bloody hell is that noise out there?” she demanded, but kept speaking before Penelope could answer her. “Alec tossed me in here and told me to stay with ye. Me own son tossed me about like an ale-house wench! Now, what is all of the madness about?”
Penelope grasped her Aunt Jemma and pulled the woman over to the brazier, which she then toppled onto its side to douse the embers. Jordan saw what her daughter was doing and quickly pushed dirt upon the coals to quench them. Even Jemma kicked at the dark, moist earth as they hurriedly buried the coals, but she was more interested in what was happening.
“Penny?” she urged. “What has happened?”
“I am not sure, Aunty,” Penelope said honestly “I was on watch at the north perimeter of the encampment when something roared. Did you hear it? And then it seemed as if the entire marsh came to life because the water was churning and this… this head came out of the water.”
Jordan and Jemma looked at Penelope as if the woman had gone mad. “Head?” Jordan repeated, incredulous and apprehensive. “What kind of head?”
Penelope thought back to that terrifying moment; in truth, she was frightened, perhaps more frightened than she had ever been in her life. She struggled against that fear, an unfamiliar sensation.
“I do not know,” she said, listening to the shouting about camp grow closer. Horses seemed to be all around them. “It was big and… and silver, I think. It looked like the head of a horse. Or a snake. Oh, I do not know what it looked like, exactly. It was difficult to tell in the moonlight.”
The thunder of hooves was right outside the tent now and the side of the tent suddenly caved in. Penelope pulled her mother and aunt out of the way of the folding fabric and then leapt in front of the pair, broadsword lifted, as a man burst into the collapsing tent. She thrust violently at the figure only to be met with a block of greater power. It was dark so it was difficult to see who she was engaging, but after a short and panic-filled moment, Penelope realized she was looking at her brother, Thomas.
“’Tis me!” Thomas hissed, shoving her broadsword aside. Another dark de Wolfe son only a few years older than Penelope, he reached down for his mother. “We must get to the horses.”
Penelope grasped her Aunt Jemma and followed her brother from the partially-collapsed tent. “What is happening, Thomas?” she demanded.
There were horses all around and men shouting as they exited into the cold and bright night. Several soldiers ran past them, nearly knocking Jemma over, and the woman cursed loudly. Penelope was trying to help the woman along, glancing over her shoulder towards the northern perimeter as they fled. She could see a line of men, and knights on horseback, and as she watched, a very large creature with a long neck and a snake-like head reared up and roared into the night. She could see the silver moonlight reflecting off of long and terrifying fangs. It was too astonishing to believe.
There was tangible terror in the air as the four of them raced to several horses that were tethered near a small copse of trees. The ground was heavy with moist earth and wet grass, making it difficult to move quickly and not slip. By the time they reached the horses, more men were rushing in from the road to the south astride steeds that were fast and lightly armored. Penelope watched the men rush past them, trying not to feel an inordinate amount of confusion. For a knight, confusion could be deadly.
“Thomas,” she called to her brother as the man moved to help his mother mount a skittish horse. “Who are these men?”
Thomas launched his mother onto the back of the horse. His gaze moved to the group of men who were fending off whatever hellish creature was upon them, helping The Wolfe’s men in their fight. He shook his head, genuinely puzzled, but nonetheless focused on what he must do. Like his father and brothers, he was a competent and powerful knight.
“I do not know,” he said, moving to his Aunt Jemma. “They came in from the road to the west and headed straight into the fight. They are Welsh, that is certain, but we do not know who they are. All that matters at the moment is that they are with us, not against us.”
Penelope helped her brother get Jemma to a horse and assisted her in mounting. The horses were agitated and Thomas grabbed his sister.
“Get mounted,” he told her. “Father wants you to take Mother and Aunt Jemma and ride for Rhydilian Castle.”
Penelope tried not to be startled by yet another horrific roar as the creature was fended off by a host of well-armed men. But as she mounted the nearest steed, which happened to be Thomas’ horse, the lure proved to be too great and she turned to watch as men began lighting arrows and shooting flaming projectiles from their crossbows. The light of fiery arrows began to fill the night sky as they shot overhead, illuminating the terrible beast at the edge of the marsh. In fact, there seemed to be a good deal of flame happening on the northern perimeter, so much so that the creature, whatever it was, began to shrink back, clearly turned away by the men with flame.
“Thomas, look,” Penelope pointed to the battle in the distance. “It is moving away!”
Thomas was preparing to send his mother and aunt off into the night but he paused at his sister’s insistence. His hazel eyes watched the scene, carefully gauging the degree of battle and of danger as the flame arrows continued to fly and the creature turned back for the marsh. With the bright moon and flaming projectiles, it was easy to see what was going on. He had to admit that his sister’s assessment seemed to be correct; the creature seemed to be returning to whatever hellish cave it crawled out of.
But for Penelope, it was not enough. She had to see for herself, attracted as she was to the heart of any conflict. It was the de Wolfe in her, the traits passed down by her father. As Thomas yelled after her, she spurred the black charger towards the gathering of men, most of whom seemed to be backing away, in a line, just as the creature was moving away from them. She could see de Wolfe men poised for battle, and knights she had known all her life who were watching the retreat with concern; her father, Paris, Kieran, her brothers Scott and Troy and Patrick, Kieran’s sons Kevin, Alec, and Christian, and Paris’ sons Hector and Adonis and Apollo.
… Apollo?
Penelope could see the tall, red-haired knight standing next to Alec Hage. The last she had seen of Apollo, he had ridden on to Rhydilian Castle to announce the arrival of the party from Castle Questing. Logic would dictate, then, that the men who had ridden to their aid must have been from Rhydilian Castle if Apollo was with them. Further logic would dictate that The Serpent must be among them; it must have been the man himself who had ridden to their aid. There was no other clear alternative.
Penelope didn’t like that thought at all. She didn’t know why she was suddenly apprehensive, but she was. To know that the man she was pledged to was somewhere in her midst unnerved her. When she heard someone give the retreat cover command, she drove her heels into the sides of the horse and charged after the men on horseback that were pursuing the beast. As she raced towards the marsh, unknown to her father or the rest of his knights, the de Wolfe encampment began to hastily pack up and prepare to move out.
It hadn’t been a particularly wise move on her part, she thought in hindsight, going in pursuit of a dangerous beast, but she found that she had to get away. She had to do what came naturally, to fight and defend, and then perhaps it would help her clear her mind and not feel such apprehension. She didn’t like the feeling. But the truth was that she didn’t know this land and in the bright moonlight, it made movement more difficult. Everything was gray or shadowed, making it difficult to focus on the details of her surroundings. Sh
e knew she had put herself in some danger by bolting off but she wouldn’t dwell on it. She was riding at the tail end of the group of men going after the beast until abruptly, they split up and went different directions. The swiftness of the movement caught Penelope off guard and she was unable to pull her horse up before the animal slipped headlong into the marsh.
Panicked, she spurred the animal out of the water and back onto firm land. She could see men off to her right in the distance, skirting the edge of the marsh, and she thought to go in their direction until the water in front of her suddenly exploded up into the air like a great silver fount. The charger startled and reared, dumping Penelope off onto the soft and wet ground. Falling on the hilt of her broadsword, she grunted in pain as she rolled to her knees. She tried to grab the horse but he was too spooked and bolted off. As she struggled to regain her footing, a familiar and terrible roar burst out next to her.
The creature was suddenly there, emerging from the marsh in a great eruption of water and mud. Penelope, stunned and horrified, watched the beast rear its neck out of the water, no more than a dozen feet away from her. It spied her instantly as she knelt on the ground, halfway to her feet, and the big mouth gaped open, roaring again. It was an utterly terrifying sound.
Penelope could see that it was looking at her and at that moment, she could have done one of two things; she could have surrendered to the inevitable, knowing it meant to kill her, or she could do what her character dictated – she could fight it. She was a de Wolfe, born and bred for battle, and whatever this creature was, it would not be the end of her. She would not allow it. She had to kill it, or injure it, before it did the same to her. The crossroads of life and death were staring her in the face and she was not about to back down. She was not going to concede defeat.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 283
