The Forgotten

by Marly Mathews

  He smiled. He hoped that Wylde would take the easy course and let him bring him into the Pack without any fuss or muss. If he didn’t—well, he’d get what he had coming to him, a shallow grave in Pauper’s Field.

  Chapter Eight

  The beef stew that cooked on the range made the Tavern small heavenly. Bianca and Christi’s cooking couldn’t even compare to what Lucan had whipped up, and Neri knew her culinary skills lacked when compared to his, Elaine could only teach her so much. When she’d come to the Tavern she’d barely known how to boil water. Now she knew a whole lot more but she didn’t have Lucan’s innate talent for cooking that was for sure.

  “I don’t like how food is so scarce in this village. When I was a boy none wanted for food here. We were a land of plenty. This is another reason to have Ulwyn stopped. I won’t let him starve the villagers any longer!” He sighed, and gave the stew a quick stir. “Why don’t we go and sit down and chat while this cooks?” he asked.

  She wanted to happily agree but the more time she spent with him, the more she fell for him. He was admittedly a perfect man by all accounts. He could cook, fight, and he showed genuine warmth toward her.

  What more could she possibly ask for, or want?

  Bianca had her head resting on her arms over at the dining table that was in the eating area of the kitchen. She had fallen into such a deep slumber that her snores were keeping the both of them company.

  “She likes her drink, doesn’t she?” he mused, looking over at Bianca.

  “Bianca and Christi’s life hasn’t exactly been free of tragedy, then again, neither has mine. Even though I’ve had my fair share of rough patches, I only have invisible scars. I don’t have the awful scarring from burns on my face that Bianca has.”

  He looked startled. He couldn’t see the right side of Bianca’s face and that was where all of the scarring was.

  “What happened to her?” he asked softly.

  “She was born into a shifter family and she and her sister can’t shift. So, Ulwyn made an example of her while he was in a drunken rage. Fortunately, Christi wasn’t home when it happened.”

  “Are you telling me that Christi and Bianca are Ulwyn’s daughters?”

  “Yes.” She looked at Bianca. “He did that to her when she was only fourteen years old. He was furious because he’d just found out that Christi couldn’t shift either. You all come into your abilities when you hit puberty and that’s when he discovered that both of his daughters lacked the only skill he found valuable.”

  “Some of us can shift before we hit puberty, but it is rare,” Lucan admitted.

  “Changelings have the full breadth of their powers by the time they reach the age of five. Some can do it earlier.”

  He looked at her with interest. “You know what I can do—but I’m at a loss when it comes to you. What can you change into?”

  She smiled. “I think that’s a mystery you need to solve for yourself, eventually, Lucan.”

  “So you took Bianca and her sister in.”

  “I did. They had nowhere else to go, and your mother showed kindness to me when I was in deep despair and I was lost, I had nowhere to call home. Your mother said that lost souls would always be welcome at the Wylde Wolf Tavern. I see it as honouring her memory by doing what she would have done. So when Christi came with Bianca in horrible pain and suffering, I couldn’t turn them away.”

  “You have a heart of gold, Neri. Have you ever thought about taking Bianca to a Healing Mage? I’ve seen them make scars like what she must have disappear with a simple incantation and a magical salve applied to the affected area.”

  “Really?” she asked, hope stirring within her.

  “Yes. Shardizar healing magic is unparalleled. Princess Ava herself might even be able to treat Bianca.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Indeed. She has the healing touch. Though I hear tell that her aunt was even more formidable when it came to mastering the healing arts. I can tell you that even though her great-grandmother wasn’t a healing mage, the healing spell she put on the curse she hit us with was one that would have awed you. We literally couldn’t kill each other, we healed too fast to actually accomplish the deed.”

  “And why,” she asked, her hands shaking as she reached for her cup of tea, “would you need to kill each other?”

  “Two of our mates had gone flipping mad. They needed to be put down. We couldn’t do it. Only the Huntresses could.”

  “I see.”

  “Taliesin Cecil, on the other hand, he was Ava’s great-grandfather and he was a skilled healing mage. If Ava has any of the power that her aunt and great-grandparents had then aye, she could heal Bianca.”

  She wanted to know more and was about to ask him to continue when Christi came speeding around the corner. She bent over and gasped for breath. She looked close to having a panic attack. Christi struggled every day to serve those who followed her twat of a Father, and right now, she looked like she was going to completely lose it.

  “Lord Ulwyn has sent Hadley, his dogsbody, down here to extend an invitation to you, Sir Lucan. He wants you to come for a feast up at the castle, but I beg you not to go. No good can come from meeting with that evil man.”

  “Lucan, don’t do it,” Neri said, knowing that he wouldn’t listen.

  Men rarely listened when they thought they were right.

  “I can’t very well be rude and refuse his invitation. What would that say about me?”

  She reached for him, pulling him back to face her by gripping his wrist. She could feel the strength inside of him as they contacted. He was a man who could handle himself in a crisis. She shouldn’t be concerned about him. Something told her that he couldn’t go up there.

  If he went up to the castle, he would be at Ulwyn’s mercy, and Ulwyn didn’t play by a code of ethics. He was not to be trusted.

  Lucan couldn’t comprehend that because he hailed from a different era. Maybe the men from Lucan’s time were honourable even if they were good or bad, but this was no longer Lucan’s time. He had to understand that things had changed and for the most part, not for the better.

  Of course, she had been royally screwed over during Lucan’s time, so bad men had always existed. The world would never be a perfect place to live in.

  “No matter how you feel about it, Neri, I have to go. If I don’t go I’ll look like a lily-livered Wolf.”

  “Mark my words, you will regret going up to that castle. It’s been cursed by the Gods since Ulwyn took charge of it.”

  His brown eyes sparkled. “That’s good, because rumour has it I’ve been blessed by the Gods and Goddesses. They won’t let a man like Ulwyn get the better of me. I already told you the only weakness those of us in the Order have are to women. And as he’s Lord Ulwyn and not Lady Ulwyn, I am pretty sure I’m safe. In fact, you’re probably more of a danger to me than he is.”

  She bit her tongue to stop herself from giving him a sharp retort. She wouldn’t play into his hands.

  “Go up there, then. Just remember that I cautioned you against it and when you come back here bleeding profusely I’ll stitch you up.”

  He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He caught her by surprise he’d moved so quickly. She should have seen it coming and darted out of the way but her mind was still fixed on figuring out a way to convince him against going up to Wythley Castle.

  “You just watch your back. I told your mother I would watch over you and it wouldn’t look good if you died after not being in my care for more than twenty-four hours.”

  “Don’t fret, luv. I will watch my back.”

  “They aren’t the wolf shifters of old! You have no idea what you’re walking into!” She called to him as he left the kitchen. He wouldn’t listen to reason, the bloody fool! He was walking into the wolf’s lair and he didn’t even know how badly the odds were stacked against him.

  Ulwyn’s Pack was large, and if the members from around the county were in attendance at Wythley Castle, Luca
n would be vastly outnumbered. She knew he was a Knight Mage to be reckoned with, but even he couldn’t take on a Pack of one hundred wolf shifters—or could he?

  *****

  Lucan walked up the steps to his bedchamber. He went through the motions of outfitting himself for the meeting. He put the black cloak he’d worn into the village, and quickly left the Tavern by using the secret passages.

  Neri had good reason to be so worried about him. He expected to be confronted with a huge show of force, either that or the castle would be almost empty. There were two possible scenarios he could encounter, and neither one he really liked.

  He would know as soon as he met Ulwyn face to face what to expect from the man. From what he gleaned from those he’d already met, Ulwyn had taken his power by being a cunning son of a bitch, and not by challenging the last Alpha in direct combat.

  That meant he’d either had the last earl assassinated, or he’d done the dirty deed himself.

  He had left his horse in the Livery Stables behind the Tavern, and didn’t want to take the time to have his horse made ready. He didn’t really need Mason anyway, the jaunt to the castle would be an exhilarating one and would allow him the time he needed to clear his head and think rationally about what awaited him.

  It was possible that Ulwyn was leading him into a trap. If they did try to ambush him, he’d have to have his full wits about him—that meant he somehow had to shake his infatuation for Neri off. He couldn’t have his deep desire for her clouding his better judgement.

  It would be dusk shortly, and fortunately for him, the wicked storm had dwindled to a soft rain. The kind of soft rain that was just perfect for a night of romance. Grimacing, he continued to make his way toward the castle. The hood on his cloak easily shielded him from the rain. He took a moment to stare up at the full moon in the dark sky. He resisted the urge to shift and howl at the blessed moon.

  He turned his attention from the moon to Castle Wythley in the distance. The grey stone seemed to beckon to him.

  Was it his Whittier blood doing this to him?

  There was a legend that he’d heard several times as a boy—the legend stated that the castle had been enchanted long ago by the first Whittier to own the land.

  Before they held the title of Earl of Wythley, they were the Barons of Wythley, and it was that first baron who built the castle. He, too, had served as a Knight Mage to the reigning Queen at the time, and he had been rumoured to be a very formidable Warrior Mage. His mother often told him that he was the inheritor of the magical might that hailed from that Baron of Wythley.

  The legend said that the first baron had enchanted the land and the Castle to always know its master or mistress. Anyone with Whittier blood would be recognized by the castle and it was said that the castle would protect its true Master from any sort of bodily harm, and do as that Master bid.

  That was why he felt certain the last earl had died from poisoning, it made sense to think that the castle could not protect the earl from such a subversive way of killing someone.

  He trudged up the hill to the castle. His boots would be covered in mud by the time he arrived at his destination.

  The eerie sound of wolves howling filled the brisk night air. He hearkened the beautiful, yet eerie call.

  He resisted the urge to shift. He didn’t want to arrive in his wolf skin, he wanted to meet Ulwyn for the first time on two legs, not four. He neared the Outer Bailey of the castle and he could see shifter eyes glowing in the distance. It looked as if Ulwyn had amassed quite the party to welcome him back.

  The one sentry transformed back into his human form, and stood buck naked in front of him. Had they not heard of the enchanted clothing made for their kind?

  Perhaps, they truly were uncivilized, and too uncouth to know better.

  He grimaced as the man sprinted toward him.

  “Lord Ulwyn wants you to know that he’s waiting in the Great Hall for you, Sir Lucan. He says that you are most welcome here.”

  He smirked at the man. “I could say that I feel like I’m coming home, but I wouldn’t want to make Lord Ulwyn feel like an interloper.”

  When he stepped toward the Outer Bailey and put his hand against the warm stone of the wall that protected the castle, a bolt of energy shot through his arm. He walked across the drawbridge that spanned the distance over the Motte and walked into the Inner Bailey. He drew in his breath sharply as he stared up at the imposing structure that was now his birthright. The vast area lit up with supernatural white light.

  Images of the past lords of the castle flashed through his mind, nearly undoing him. He saw his father, and his grandfather…in fact he saw them all going straight back to the man who built this legacy.

  It left such a profound impact on him that he was actually rattled.

  The naked shifter saw the castle recognize him as well and the look of shock on his face told him all he needed to know. Some would follow him if he made a bid to becoming the Alpha of the Pack, and whether Ulwyn liked it or not, he was going to make a play for it.

  In his heart of hearts, he would always have a Pack and that Pack existed far from here. They were all going their separate ways as they attempted to blend back into the world as it was now, but he knew what was unspoken between all of them—and what Grifon had told him before he’d set out for the County of Cambria.

  No matter how far apart they all might be, if one of them was in need, they would all rush to help that member of the Pack. They’d spent one hundred and fifty years watching out for each other and old habits die extremely hard.

  The Courtyard of his father’s castle continued to amaze him. This structure was incredibly large and it made the building he’d grown up in look like a tiny hovel. No wonder his father had possessed such a high opinion of himself. He could understand it now but he could never condone it. His father should have changed with the times. He should have followed his heart and married his mother.

  Brandyn Whittier should have done a great many things, and he’d failed at every one of them. Dragging in a heavy breath, he wrenched his mind away from the misdeeds of his father’s and focused on the here and now. Shops and other buildings were built inside of the Courtyard. In fact, it was like a mini-village and he could see it was totally equipped for sieges.

  Now, those buildings were barren. In fact, the entire area had a stale and lonesome feeling to it. It was as if the castle was bereft—as if it keenly felt the loss of its true Lord or Lady and stood waiting for that man or woman to return.

  The castle had been built to withstand long sieges. Some said this castle would be able to defend against an invading force for days, if not weeks, or even months, and now seeing all of the buildings and imagining what it was like in its heyday he understood the legends that surrounded Wythley Castle.

  He knew castles like this one bordered Domnonee, and they would need those fortifications in the coming struggle against the barbaric kingdom.

  It was a castle that a warrior like him would love to have. For the first time in his life, he was finally looking forward to claiming his birthright. He loved the Tavern that he’d grown up in and his mother had given him the best possible childhood that he could have had given the circumstances.

  Now after seeing the castle for himself, he felt a pang of remorse for missing out on seeing it through his father’s eyes. If only the man hadn’t spurned his mother—they could have had a great life here. His mother would have been a most dazzling Countess.

  He wondered how different his destiny would have been had his father had the balls to marry his mother, and make her his lady wife. If he had, maybe they would have gone on have to more children together, and maybe the descendants from those children wouldn’t have been so easily taken in by Lord Ulwyn—and ultimately destroyed by the man. Before he knew it, he was inside the castle taking in what should have been his.

  “You look exactly like the old earl, so there is no doubt that you have Whittier blood in you. Many among us will be ha
ppy to see a Whittier again. These ancestral lands and the Castle recognize you. When you meet Lord Ulwyn, just remember that you have allies that will support you should you ever need us. Not all of us are happy with the current regime and many of us feel nostalgic when we think about the way our world was under the leadership of the last earl.” As they approached the Great Hall, the man flanking him said one more thing before falling silent. “My name is Frederick Talbot and I am your faithful servant, Your Grace.”

  He was surprised to already have a shifter reaching out to him. It said a lot for how Ulwyn ran things. If Talbot felt this way, there had to be quite a few other shifters who were like minded.

  They walked into the Great Hall. The Great Hall was so large it stole his breath! He’d been to many Castles throughout his time serving as a Knight Mage but none had impressed him as much as Wythley had.

  One long pyxawood table filled the impressive space and each side of the room was adorned with Knight’s armor, and the various weapons that Knight Mages used in battle. The coat of arms of the Whittier’s was a centerpiece of the display. The Wolf and the Wyvern surrounded a shield decorated with two W’s linked together.

  “Welcome, Sir Lucan.” At the sound of the voice he looked up to the floor above. A corpulent short man stood near the railing. He must have been Lord Ulwyn.

  “Lord Ulwyn, I presume.”

  The man gave him a forced smile. “You presumed right, son.”

  “I am not your son, Lord Ulwyn,” he proclaimed, his voice echoing through the large space.

  “Indeed,” the man’s beady eyes narrowed. “The Gods cursed me with daughters. Nonetheless, welcome home, Sir Lucan. The Pack rejoices at gaining another member.”

  “You seem to forget that in Shardizar men and women are born equal,” Lucan said, distaste for the vile man welling within him.