The Wolf of Harrow Hall (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 7)

by Christine Pope

  Golden eyes. I recalled then those strange flashes of gold within Phelan’s own eyes, and guessed they must be something he had inherited from his mother. “I still do not see what the problem is, for our own Mark carries corraghar blood within his veins, and it has not seemed to have affected him adversely.”

  “No, that is true.” Master Merryk laid his hands flat on the age-darkened wood of the tabletop, staring at the raised pattern of the veins in his flesh as if he could somehow divine the future therein. “But because of his lordship’s…affliction…I made it my mission to learn much more of the corraghar. I have lived among them, witnessed their customs, their behaviors.”

  Affliction? Truly, Phelan had seemed very much afflicted, albeit by something I could not describe. Frowning, I said, “He told me that you would care for him, but if he is truly so ill, should you not be attending to him now?”

  The steward offered me a weary smile. “In truth, there is little I can do to help him, except make sure that all the other members of the household are safely out of the way until the…illness…runs its course. I am sure he told you I would look after him so you would not offer to do so. For of course he would never risk hurting you.”

  “Hurting me? What vile affliction is this, that it would lead to him causing me harm?” I demanded, no longer caring for courtesy, or whether I should allow Master Merryk to speak his piece in his own time.

  “‘Vile affliction’ is a very good way to describe it.” He paused, clearly contemplating his next words. “As I said, I lived among the corraghar for a time, since I had my suspicions that his lordship’s condition was directly related to the strain of corraghar blood he carried within him. And so it was that I learned that among the corraghar are those they call the corraghel, or brothers of the wolf.”

  “And what has that to do with Phelan?”

  “Everything, I fear.” The steward ran a finger around the lip of his cup, as if to catch any stray moisture which might remain there. “Tell me, my lady, how much of an open mind do you possess?”

  What a question! If it had been posed to me even a few weeks earlier, I might have replied that my mind was as open as that of the next person. Now, though, after spending time in this castle of secrets, of hearing hints about strange powers and dark forces that should have died out long ago, I was beginning to realize that the world contained many things which had never been part of my experience. “Open enough,” I said frankly. “Tell me the truth, Master Merryk, no matter how strange it might sound.”

  He gave me a nod, one that appeared almost approving. “Thank you, my lady. Then I will tell you that the corraghel are shape-changers, men who can take on the aspect of a wolf and run with the packs as they would with their own brothers. Hence the name.”

  “They — they become wolves?” Despite assuring the steward that I wished to hear the truth, no matter how odd it might be, I could not keep the incredulity from my tone. I had never heard of such madness. It must be impossible. And yet….

  “Yes. It is nothing to them, a power they can control at will. It is a gift passed from generation to generation. But….” The steward hesitated then, his brows drawing together. “The problem is when a corraghel has a child with a woman who is not of the corraghar. If that child is female, then there is still no problem, for a woman cannot be corraghel. But if that child is a son….”

  “Even when he has only a fourth that blood?” I asked, my voice faint.

  “Even then, I fear. If that happens, then he cannot control the change. And that is what has happened to Phelan.”

  “He becomes a wolf.” The words came out flat, because in that moment I was not sure what to believe.

  “Yes. Each month when Taleron, the larger moon, is full.”

  “Why a full moon? And why that one, and not small Callendir?”

  “I am not sure. I know the corraghar perform their rituals to honor the spirits of their ancestors when Taleron is full. So perhaps that tradition also carries on in their blood.”

  I was silent then, pondering what Master Merryk had just told me. “And there is no way of controlling the transformation?”

  “Not really. It is…worse…when there are women about. The change can come on his lordship several days before the moon is full, if he senses their blood.”

  My cheeks heated at that revelation, but I merely nodded. My moon-blood had come and gone a week before this blizzard descended, and so I had not experienced my courses while residing within the confines of Harrow Hall. “So that is why you have no female servants here.”

  “Yes. It was easier that way. We could have had older women, those who no longer have their monthly courses, but in the end, we decided it was simpler to not have any women at all.”

  I supposed I could see the logic of that, so I did not bother to question the situation further. Instead, I ventured, “Then I came here. I suppose he is experiencing the change early, because of my presence.”

  “No, that is the odd thing.” Master Merryk’s dark eyes fastened on me, as if he was attempting to probe the very depths of my soul. “The full moon will be tonight, even though we shall not be able to see it, thanks to this unending storm. The change is coming on Lord Phelan at the appointed time, despite you being here. There is something very different about you.”

  “Is that why he thought I would be the one to break the curse?” I asked, then realized how foolish it was of me to say such a thing. Those words had been contained in a private conversation, one I should never have overheard.

  The steward clearly realized the same thing, for his eyes narrowed, and his mouth compressed before he said, “So you heard that? I will admit that I thought I detected some odd sounds from the corridor while his lordship and I were conducting that conversation. Those sounds were you eavesdropping.”

  “I — I did not mean to,” I said quickly. “I had thought I would surprise Phelan by coming to see him, and then I heard the two of you speaking. What you said so engaged my curiosity that I could not find it in me to walk away, even though I knew it was wrong.”

  “Well, then.” Master Merryk tapped his fingers on the tabletop, clearly debating what he should say next. Then I saw his shoulders lift, as if to indicate that we had already gone too far for him to worry about any further revelations. “I fear I have not told you the whole of it. Despite sending the female servants away, his lordship was not entirely safe. He had been betrothed from a very young age to one of the daughters of Lord Olivax, of Blackmore Keep. There was no way to break the engagement without raising Lord Olivax’s ire, as well as arousing far too much suspicion. Besides, his lordship believed that as long as he isolated himself from his new bride at the appointed time, then no harm would come to her.”

  A sick feeling began to grow in the pit of my stomach. Perhaps it was only the cherbeg asserting itself, but I feared the anxious roiling in my belly had very little to do with the liquor I had drunk. Certainly there was no sign anywhere in Harrow Hall of the young woman who had been Phelan’s affianced bride, not even a portrait in the gallery.

  “What happened?” I whispered.

  The steward did not look away from me, as some men might have. Voice steady, he said, “She came to us with her servants accompanying her. The wedding was not to take place for several days, as her father had unexpected business arise that required his presence on his own lands. But because he did not wish to violate any of the strictures of the betrothal, he sent his daughter ahead. Pretty girl.” A shake of the head before Master Merryk went on, “She was quite enamored of his lordship, and although of course I was not there to see all that passed between them, it was not difficult to guess what happened. Lord Greymount thought he was safe because the full moon was still several weeks off, and Lady Sharenne had no idea of the danger she was in. So they…shared some kind of intimacy…and his lordship changed.”

  “He — ” I had to stop myself there. I could imagine well enough what might have happened next, and I did not want to thin
k of it, did not want to believe that Phelan was capable of such a thing. But could he even be said to be Phelan Greymount, lord of Harrow Hall, when that dreadful change came upon him?

  “Yes,” Master Merryk said grimly. “I will not go into any detail as to what precisely occurred, my lady, for that is not something you need to hear. We sent word to her father that there had been a dreadful accident, that the Lady Sharenne had fallen down the stairs and broken her neck. Because she had been his lordship’s betrothed, with their marriage due to occur within only a few days, no one thought it terribly strange that we buried her here in the family graveyard. It was high summer, a time when a hasty burial would be necessary. Her family was upset, as you might imagine, but his lordship returned her dowry, which did a good deal to mollify her father.”

  “He did not care that his daughter was dead?” I demanded, unaccountably angered by the steward’s description of Lord Olivax’s behavior.

  “Most likely he was glad to have the dowry returned to him. Lady Sharenne was one of six daughters, and her father had a most difficult time getting them all suitable matches.”

  I decided it was best to leave that particular matter aside. “So that was why his lordship was so startled that he did not…react…to me.”

  “Precisely. And that is why he decided you must be the one who could rid him of this terrible curse. Whatever it was that made you different, it was something to keep hold of.”

  “And so he made me his wife.”

  “Yes.”

  Although I had overheard Phelan saying how he thought me beautiful, that he desired me, I still could not help harboring the suspicion that he had married me because he thought I was his only hope of salvation, and not because he truly loved me.

  “You doubt,” the steward said. “That is understandable, but it is not the truth. His lordship does care for you a great deal, which is why he was cast into despair when the full moon began to approach and he began to feel its effects, despite your presence. He could not understand why he could be with you as a man is with a woman, and yet still have the wolf-change come upon him.”

  I could not understand it, either, but then again, there was a great deal about this situation that I did not understand. It seemed as if there was some piece of the puzzle still missing, something I should have guessed at by now.

  The conversation I had overheard tumbled through my mind, and I began to pick at it, trying to discover something I had overlooked. They had spoken of my birth, and the mystery of my father….

  My father. Of course. I knew nothing of him, except it must have been from him that I got my soot-colored locks, so much darker than my mother’s. Eyes dark, too, which seemed amiss if he had been one of the corraghar, but perhaps the eye color did not always breed true.

  “Phelan said my father must have been one of them,” I said. “Meaning one of the corraghel, I take it?”

  “That was his suspicion, my lady. And his hope.”

  “But I have never turned into a wolf.”

  “Because you are a woman. It is only the men who have that ability.”

  “Which they can utilize at will.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  My thoughts raced after one another, tumbling. I knew nothing of this father of mine, or why he had lain with my mother, save that she was a great beauty, and perhaps even a man of the corraghel had not been able to resist her charms. Putting the mystery of their relationship aside, I thought it seemed clear enough that the corraghel were not tormented by their shape-shifter natures. Why?

  Because they have their women to help them stay in control. The thought which surfaced in my mind was so clear-cut that I did not bother to deny it. It made perfect sense. I had been unaware of the blood I carried within me. Phelan had sensed it — hence the spark that had flared between us — but neither of us had had any idea of what to do with it.

  But now I did.

  Abruptly, I rose to my feet, even as Master Merryk stared up at me in surprise. “When Phelan turns, where does he go?” I asked.

  The puzzlement on the steward’s features gave way to alarm as he began to divine what I might have in mind. “Out on the moors. I have heard him howling more times than I wish to recall. But you cannot possibly be thinking of going out there — ”

  “I must,” I broke in. “I have to reach out to him now, to show him that I understand what I have to do.”

  “My lady, he will kill you!”

  Those words, spoken so baldly, hung in the air between us. I supposed there was that possibility, that I truly had no idea what I was doing, and so was blindly rushing into danger. But I had to try.

  “I would rather die than live without him.”

  A long silence, and then Master Merryk pushed himself up from his seat. Voice heavy with a mixture of resignation and dread, he said, “Then let me show you.”

  Chapter 15

  I had not wished to waste the time it would require to fetch my mantle from my chamber, and so Master Merryk lent me one of his, along with a heavy knitted scarf and a pair of fur-lined leather gloves that were much too big. My borrowed cloak was likewise too large, and dragged along the ground, but it was warm, and that was good enough for me.

  Now we stood at a small door which opened directly from the outer wall. I thought it might lead to the midden where all the castle’s waste was dumped, for even in the bitter cold I thought I could smell faint traces of decay, and the way had been carefully shoveled, unlike most of the other entrances to the building. No matter. It was the quickest way outside, and one that would not be noted by any other of the castle’s denizens.

  Even now, the steward attempted to dissuade me from following what he obviously thought was a mad course of action. “My lady, I beg you — do not do this. We can wait out the moon, and after tonight, his lordship will be himself again.”

  “Until the next full moon,” I said. My voice shook despite my efforts to control it. I had seen what the wolves did to our poor goat Sissi, so I knew exactly what my fate would be if I could not somehow persuade my husband to come back to himself. But I also knew we could not have any sort of life with his terrible half-wolf existence always hanging over us. “Do you not see, Master Merryk? I must try to end this, or nothing will ever change.”

  His shoulders slumped, and I could see defeat clearly in the lines of his face. In one hand he held a lantern, which he extended to me. I took it from him, seeing in that small gesture capitulation.

  Then his chin went up, and he said, “If you overheard my conversation with his lordship, then you also heard me call you a peasant. Now I know that is not a true. You are a very great lady, Bettany Greymount, with a far nobler spirit than many who were born to a title.”

  Those words moved me greatly, for I knew Master Merryk would not have said such a thing if he did not truly believe it. “I thank you for that, Master Merryk. And I thank you also for your service to his lordship, for I do not believe his own father could have looked after him as well as you have.”

  Even in the dim light of the lantern, I could see a flush spread on the steward’s high cheekbones. He opened his mouth to speak, but in that same moment, a wolf’s howl came to us from over the snow-driven moors, chilling me to my bones. I could not entirely blame the icy wind for the cold coursing through me.

  “I must go,” I said. “Thank you again, Master Merryk.”

  “May the gods go with you, Lady Greymount.”

  I could hope for nothing more than that. Turning, I held the oversized cloak shut with one hand, while the one that held the lantern peeked out just enough to illuminate the ground a few feet in every direction. Not that there was so very much to see, for any landmarks had been completely buried after so many days of driving snow. It still fell now, stinging against my face, but I could not allow that to deter me.

  A howl sounded once again, this time from somewhere to my left. I set off in that direction, the lantern showing just enough of the ground to keep me from stumbling. Onc
e again I was glad of my sturdy boots. Even so, the cold had already begun to seep up through the soles of my feet.

  In that moment, I could not help but wonder what would kill me first, the wolf, or the unending cold.

  Neither, I told myself fiercely. You will find Phelan, and you will call on the corraghar blood within you to calm his wolfish soul.

  I could only hope it would be that simple. For of course I had no clear idea of what I was doing, had driven myself out here on the power of a hunch and not much else.

  Was it my imagination, or was the snow falling less thickly? Difficult to say, for I held the lantern rather low, thinking it was better that I see where I was walking, rather than worry about what the skies above me were doing.

  A few flakes drifted down, and then all went still. Even the icy wind, which had done a very good job of slipping past the heavy scarf wound at my throat, dropped to a whisper and then nothing at all.

  Overhead, the clouds parted, and a huge white moon drifted into the blackness the clouds had left behind. The pure silvery light poured down, glittering against the snow. In awe, I looked up, drinking in the moonlight. In that moment, I almost forgot why I had come here.

  But I did not forget for very long. From somewhere behind me came a low, harsh growl, and I whirled, barely needing the lantern to see the baleful golden eyes glaring up at me, the smoky darkness of the creature’s pelt against the snow-covered ground.

  No, not a creature. Phelan.

  “My love,” I said. My voice shook, and the wolf growled again. Very slowly, I stooped down so I could set the lantern on the ground. Then I spread my hands. “I know you can hear me, Phelan. Come back to me. You need not allow this thing to control you. Let me help you.”

  The wolf snarled, lip curling to reveal a set of very sharp, very white teeth. I swallowed.

  And then, before I could even take another breath, he sprang. Without thinking, I raised my arms, blocking him so he could not reach my throat. But the weight of him knocked me sprawling onto the snow, my head hitting the ground with a hard thump. Flashes of red swirled before my eyes, and I blinked. I could not faint now, for then he would surely kill me.