Brlde of the Wolf

by Abigail Barnette

  “This is where I find you?”

  The furious voice echoed through the wood, and Aurelia’s heart froze. At once, Raf left her, the absence of his weight at her back a strange emptiness. In a frenzy of movement, she climbed to her feet and pushed her skirts down. Between the trees, men on horseback, fifteen of them if there were a one, sat in silent assembly. All in black armor, black leather, on black horses like an army of death raised to find them.

  Raf cursed. He would not have heard their approach, either, lost to their coupling.

  “Father,” Raf said by way of greeting. He still sat on the forest floor, naked and sweating. “I was hoping I would not see you today.”

  “Yes, as my scouts reported when they followed Henry out this morning.” Lord Canis was a thin man, thrown into strange proportions by the armor that broadened his shoulders. A long cloak fell from his spaulders, blood red against the forest of white and black. His white hair brushed back from his face, his white beard was cut close to his chin. Above, his eyes were as blue and cold as ice. “You never were a clever boy, Raf, but this is beyond even my expectations of your stupidity!”

  Lord Canis turned his sharp eyes to Aurelia. “Were you confused, girl? As to which brother you were sent to bed?”

  Her mouth fell open in shock. “Your own men attacked me! The ones you sent to keep me safe on the journey. If Raf had not—”

  “If Raf had not stuck his cock in you, he might have lived until sundown.” Lord Canis sniffed. “Clement, take her to the castle.”

  “No!” Raf shouted, reaching to pull himself up against a sapling. His good foot faltered, and he fell, to the great amusement of his father’s party.

  Aurelia knelt beside him, clinging to him as Sir Clement advanced. His face was a ghastly mask of triumph, and it was clear he sought to pay her back for resisting Sir Jeoffrey on the road. He gripped Aurelia’s upper arm, plate gloves pinching her cruelly.

  “Stop this,” Raf shouted to his father. “I formally declare my intent to challenge my brother and pack mate, Roderick Canis, for possession of this woman!”

  Clement released her, laughing. His reaction was echoed by some of the other men, who ceased their snickering when Lord Canis shouted, “Quiet, you fools!”

  He drew his horse up beside them, sneering down as though he were a terrible angel sent to judge them and found them wanting. “Raf, my son. If you intended to die, I would gladly do it by my own hand.”

  “I know, father,” he replied easily, as if his own father had not expressed a desire to see him dead. A cold chill gripped Aurelia at the realization that without Raf, she would find herself at the mercy of these men, who spoke of death so freely, as though they had no fear of it.

  “Roderick will slay you, and he’ll have this woman, if he still wants her.” Lord Canis turned his eyes to the forest, as if seeking some wisdom there. With a pained sigh, he said, “Clement. Go and find my son’s other leg.”

  “The one in the churchyard?” Clement snickered, giving Raf a kick. Though Raf did not make a sound, the pain was plain on his face, and Aurelia could not stifle the sob that came to her throat.

  “Clement, the leg,” Lord Canis repeated, no hint of strained patience in his tone. He was a man clearly used to being obeyed, and unconcerned if he was not. Aurelia did not wish to guess at what would happen to a man who disobeyed a command from him.

  “Bring my clothes, as well,” Raf ordered Clement. As the Lord’s son, wanted or not, he had power to wield, and Clement plainly bristled at that.

  Aurelia understood then, why Jeoffrey had attacked her, or at least, she suspected. The men sent with Raf had chafed at being given orders by a cripple, and they had struck out at him in the surest way to raise his ire. They had attacked her, a defenseless maiden.

  He had not saved her, she saw now, because he’d meant to deliver her to his brother unharmed. He’d saved her because he could not suffer the abuse of an innocent at their hands.

  Clement returned, leading the horse and holding the iron leg, a bundle of Raf’s clothes wrapped about it. “Seems he thought he could trick us, my lord.”

  Canis gave his man a severe look, prompting Clement to continue, “Tracks. A three-legged wolf. Seems he must have run a big circle to lead us off the trail.”

  “A stupid trick, boy,” Canis said with a dismissive shrug.

  It was not a stupid trick, Aurelia wanted to scream at him. It was a noble thing Raf had done, trying to keep her from harm. If she’d been a man, she would have drawn her sword and cut Lord Canis down right then, no matter that the rest would have fallen on her in moments. But it was a silly dream, the anger of the girl who’d left Northwood and gone into the forest among wolves. She’d learned her powerlessness all too well in the intervening days.

  Raf dressed himself and fitted his leg under the watchful eyes of the men who catalogued every movement to mock him. Finally, he made to stand, leaning against her for support. She gave it gladly, but wished it were not so, for it would be only another transgression in the eyes of the cruel men before them. He climbed into the saddle and offered her his hand, but Lord Canis barked an order to another man, a knight who lifted her by one arm and swung her up behind him. She gripped two fistfuls of his cloak and squeezed her eyes against the tears that rose to them.

  The wolves rode hard through the forest, seemingly heedless of the trees that flew past them. The horses, too, seemed graced with supernatural speed and reflex as they raced through the treacherous wood other mounts would have picked over warily.

  Aurelia held tight to the knight in front of her, knowing that should she fall, he would not be so quick to catch her as Raf would have been. Once or twice, she lifted her head, trying to find Raf in the rush of horses and men all around her. She caught sight of him, hunched low over the neck of his horse, riding as fast as the rest of them. Why hadn’t he ridden with such haste that morning?

  The horse beneath her cleared some obstacle under foot, it’s rear legs following the front to hit the ground with such force that she bounced up, airborne for a terrifying moment, the only thing keeping her from tumbling to the ground her white knuckled hands clenching the knight’s cloak. Then she understood. He could have easily escaped without her, but he’d gone slowly to prevent her injury. It was likely the same reason he had not brought a horse for her to ride, why she had to sit in the crowded cart, her feet dangling uncomfortably. Everything he’d done, even before meeting her, had been to protect her.

  How had Raf come to be so noble, surrounded by these wolf-men who had no caring or kindness in them? She did not look for him again, afraid that if she turned her attention from the ride she would fall and be dashed to pieces under the hooves of the horses behind her. Despite the frantic pace, they did not reach the castle before nightfall. The horses never slowed or faltered, despite the blackness of the forest.

  “Look, my lady,” the knight she rode with called over his shoulder. “Blackens Gate.”

  She lifted her head from his back, her muscles, cramped from the tension she’d maintained for the entire ride, screaming in protest. For a moment she believed the knight had been jesting. Ahead, there was nothing but blackness. Yet as they drew nearer, she saw that no trees stood in that blackness, and then, as the horses shifted their course slightly, running parallel to the void, she realized it was the curtain wall of Blackens Gate. Squares of faint torchlight showed through the portcullis as they approached. There was no road to the castle gate, leaving the trees to serve as moat.

  The portcullis raised with a rattle of chains, and the riders slowed to funnel through the castle wall. Inside the courtyard, the night seemed darker. Torches hung in caged brackets along the black walls, and steep stone staircases led to shelter beneath crumbling arches.

  Lord Canis stopped, dismounted, and handed the reins to a stable hand with agitated efficiency. He strode toward the back of the pack, and it was not until he was too close to evade did Aurelia realize he strode toward her. Grabbing her
arm, he pulled her down, making no move to catch her as she barely managed to get her footing. Pain stabbed up her frozen ankles, and she cried out, too tired to withstand even the smallest discomfort. Canis dragged her with him toward a looming doorway. He opened it, revealing warm, red dimness beyond it. It was the great hall, she saw, and trembled at the number assembled there.

  “I bring your bride, Roderick,” Lord Canis said, pushing her into the arms of a knight that barely had time to set his cup of ale aside.

  Aurelia looked up at a man who was strikingly similar to his older brother. The same golden hair, grown carelessly to his shoulders. The same defined cut of nose and mouth, though subtly changed. The eyes were different. Perhaps it was the mockery in them, the cocksure arrogance that radiated from him. His smile was far different from Raf’s, a cruel thing that looked more an expression of intimidation than welcome.

  “Well. I see Edward picked well for me.” He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face back and forth, inspecting her as another man might inspect a horse. “Dirty though. Did you drag her behind you?”

  Roderick shrugged her off his arm. She stood at his side, helpless, scanning the faces in the hall. Two men jostled aside and Raf strode into the crowded hall. Dirty and bedraggled, he looked furious enough to kill. He strode to them and pulled Aurelia to his side. “There is no reason to treat her this way.”

  “Ah, a complication.” Roderick arched a brow in amusement.

  “He challenges you, Roderick,” Canis said. “We found them rutting like pigs.”

  “Is this true, brother?” The smile Roderick gave Raf was something more like a dog baring his teeth.

  “The girl means nothing to you,” Raf said, still holding her tightly. “You gain nothing from keeping her.”

  “But you lose something if I keep her. She means something to you.” Roderick shrugged one shoulder. “What care I?”

  Aurelia’s heart lurched in hope, but Raf’s face was still of stone.

  Roderick laughed. “I never could fool you. I accept your challenge, brother. I’m sorry to have to kill you.”

  “Margaret Lackey,” Lord Canis called, his voice the crack of the whip on an ox’s hide. The woman appeared, looking untroubled. She had not been disciplined, then, Aurelia suspected, for she doubted anyone could be so brave as to stand without trembling in the face Lord Canis after receiving the sharp end of his justice.

  “Take the lady to the women’s quarters. She can wait there until I decide when to convene the tribunal.”

  “The tribunal?” Roderick asked, seeming almost disappointed.

  “This is a matter of inheritance law, as well. I will not allow Blackens Gate to be run by a cripple after my death. Weakness is not a face I’m willing to show my enemies in my absence.” Lord Canis turned on his heel and marched away from them, cutting a wide swath through his men as he departed.

  With Lord Canis’s interest, so went everyone else’s, it seemed. Lord Canis’s men filed from the hall with an air of dissatisfaction. It was almost as though they wanted to see blood there and then, and having been denied, it now felt like it was their right. Aurelia shrank against Raf, but when Margaret Lackey put her hand out to grab her, she stepped away from him willingly.

  With a fire in her voice that surprised her, Aurelia hissed, “If you touch me, I will kill you.”

  Margaret Lackey laughed at that. “I’m a warrior of the Free Wolves of House Canis. You’re a human who needed a cripple to fight your battles for you. I’ll touch you with the sharp end of a sword, if I please.”

  “Margaret,” Roderick cautioned. “You’re talking to my future bride.”

  No, Aurelia decided, she was not Roderick’s future bride. She belonged to Raf, body and spirit.

  He would not lose the fight. Aurelia saw the determination in his eyes as he glared down his brother. Roderick laughed into his cup, and Raf called after Aurelia as Margaret Lackey led her away. “You’ll be safe. I promise you.”

  Margaret Lackey laughed cruelly behind her, but Aurelia did not respond.

  “Since I know the way, perhaps you should let me lead,” the other woman shouldered her aside, into the rough stone of the corridor they’d entered.

  Aurelia trailed after Margaret, her mind working furiously. She memorized the details of the walk, the dark alcoves she could be grabbed from, the places where she could hide. She’d never been afraid of the dark before, but here, she was.

  Would she someday be the lady of this castle? At Raf’s side, she would be. She could not be Roderick’s lady. And even then, how could she ever call such a bleak, dark place her home?

  The women of the castle shared a drafty solar heated by a smoking hearth, but the rushes were clean and the cots that lined the walls in good repair. Margaret Lackey pushed Aurelia in and slammed the door closed.

  In her dirty, torn kirtle, Aurelia hardly looked fit to sleep among these women. Though the castle was as crude as the manners of those inside it, the cluster of women around the fire were dressed beautifully. Even the women who were not so wealthy as to own the ermine trimmed blankets some of the ladies wore over their laps had neat, clean dresses. Aurelia counted a dozen women. None of them looked at her. No one spoke to her.

  So, she waited in silence, lingering beside the door, uncertain if she were allowed to leave, afraid to cross the threshold. She wondered what Raf was doing? Would he come for her? Certainly he would know that she was not safe among the wolves in the castle.

  One by one, the women drifted to their cots, hanging their clothes on pegs and murmuring to each other in voices that seemed kind, if you ignored the words they spoke. Warnings, all. These wolf-women snarled and fought as much as their warrior counterparts, but subtly. Aurelia was all the more terrified.

  There were no places to sleep, once they had all found their beds. Aurelia curled up on the rushes, shivering, not wishing to think of the great black beetles and spiders that sometimes skittered on the filth beneath the fresh straw. Surely, it could not be any worse than what had lived on the forest floor that night that she’d shivered with Raf during the storm.

  It had been easier to sleep then, with him at her side. A gnawing ache welled in her chest, and she allowed herself to cry, but only quietly.

  She had survived the journey so far. She could survive to see Raf win her freedom.

  Chapter Eight

  Raf watched Aurelia leave the hall, silently imploring her to remember every slight made to her by the denizens of the castle. His hands clenched to fists as he imagined how he would repay anyone who hurt her. Violent reverie did not ease the helplessness in him.

  He should have controlled himself in the woods. Whatever hold the wolf had over him, he should have fought past it. How long had his father waited to reveal himself. No doubt there would be talk of Aurelia, of her lack of virtue, and mockery of him, mangled as he was and still believing he could take a woman and please her. Perhaps their unforgivable spying had set them straight on that account.

  Roderick clapped a hand on Raf’s shoulder. “Now that father is gone, let us speak freely.”

  “I have been speaking freely, brother.” Raf shrugged off the younger man’s hand. Though they shared only a father in common, their resemblance taunted Raf. Look, there is a man who could be mistaken for you, but for his legs.

  No one who knew them would make such a mistake. Roderick was brave, driven to succeed, and confident in that success. Raf was a cripple, cowardly, and too often had a soft heart where it did not profit him.

  He did not envy his brother. A man like Roderick would never know true happiness as he’d found with Aurelia. Though it had lasted only a few days, it was a treasure worth fighting for.

  Even if he would likely die in that fight. Roderick had always been better with a sword, better at riding. In their wolf forms, they had been more evenly matched, but that had been before.

  “Raf, this is foolish pride talking.” Roderick shook his head. “You won’t beat me, and I�
�ll have her anyway. Surely you can be just as happy with another woman. I hear the dyer has a girl who’s beautiful, despite her green arms. She’s desperate to marry well.”

  Is that what he’d been reduced to, Raf wondered. Marriage to a peasant when he was the rightful heir of Blackens Gate? Missing leg or not, he still carried Canis blood. He was still a wolf.

  He glowered at his brother. “I will have Aurelia. Surely you could be happy with another woman, and your life.”

  Roderick laughed heartily, as though he’d been told a clever joke. “I’ll miss you when you’re dead. You have such a sense of humor.”

  “Aurelia is mine,” Raf repeated, relishing the anger that coursed through him, made his remaining limbs feel powerful. He would hold it every moment he was separated from Aurelia and use it for fuel against his brother. He did not imagine he would be victorious, but he could at least see his brother’s confident smile fade with each blow dealt to him.

  “No, Aurelia is mine,” Roderick corrected mildly. “She was given to me by her father, at King Edward’s edict. I could fetch her now and have her right here in the hall. I could share her with my men. I could force you to watch. I could do all of these things, because she belongs to me.”

  Raf’s jaw clenched. If his brother were to do as he threatened, he would be within his rights in the pack. Raf would be powerless to stop it, though he would die trying. He could not push Roderick into proving his dominance that way.

  Roderick read his victory on Raf’s face, and smirked. “Don’t worry, brother. I’ll keep away from her. Truthfully, I didn’t even want her. Until you did.”

  “I did not doubt that.” Raf held his brother’s gaze, refusing to look away before the other wolf submitted.

  Roderick scoffed and gave him a wink, unwilling to acknowledge defeat. “Until the tribunal convenes, then.”

  Raf looked around the hall for Henry, and did not spy him. So, a night in the dungeons, then? It was an unoriginal punishment by his father’s standard, Raf admitted. But he would not believe that his father was so mad as to execute a useful man.