WolfeLord: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Indeed, you are,” Gar said. “The great Wolfe of the Border. My father used to tell stories about him.”

  “Did he know him?”

  Gar shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “But he admired him greatly.”

  “Thank you,” Will said. “As do I. Will you go to the hall? Sup shall be commencing shortly and I was just going to check the posts for the night.”

  “May I accompany you, my lord?”

  Will really didn’t want him to, but he nodded graciously. “If you wish.”

  Gar took up pace beside him as they headed out of the inner ward.

  “I was hoping to speak with you, my lord, if it would not be too bold,” he said. “I have some questions I hope you can answer.”

  “I will try.”

  They were passing through the inner gatehouse and Gar looked out over the big moat to the outer ward beyond, packed with soldiers going about their duties as night began to fall.

  “I will try to be brief, my lord,” he said. “Since you spend so much time around my daughter, I am hoping you can help me. You see, she is quite old for a maiden and part of the reason I have come to visit her is to speak to her of marriage, but she is most resistant. Is there someone special to her that you know of?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I was thinking that might be the reason why she is resisting. Mayhap she is waiting for someone that she does not wish to speak of – yet.”

  Will was uncomfortable with the question because it felt too much like gossip and, truthfully, he didn’t pay much attention to Adria other than in a polite manner since she was his wife’s lady-in-waiting. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she was beautiful or accomplished, because she was. It was simply that, as a married man, he didn’t look at other women in an appraising manner. Even if he and Lily were more friends than lovers, she was still his wife and he was faithful to those vows.

  That meant he didn’t pry into the lives of people like Adria de Geld.

  “Have you asked your daughter?” he said.

  Gar shrugged. “Not directly, but we spoke of marriage and she is unwilling to marry a man of my choosing,” he said. “I thought that there may be a man at Carlisle to change her mind. Or… or mayhap you know of a wealthy lord who might like a beautiful wife?”

  Will would have thought it was just a normal fatherly question until he mentioned the word wealth. That told him that the man’s visit did indeed revolve around something financial.

  He wanted his daughter to find someone to feed his gambling habit.

  “I do not know of any,” he said, trying not to sound disgusted. “Your daughter is a fine woman who will attract a good husband when the time comes. I would not worry over it.”

  “I am not worried, I assure you,” Gar said quickly. “But I will admit that I would like to see her with a home of her own and children at her feet. Every woman wants that, don’t they?”

  Will nodded in agreement, glancing up at the walls to note that the guards were changing to the night shift. “They do,” he said. “Did Adria tell you that Lily is expecting a child at the end of summer?”

  Gar shook his head. “She did not,” he said. “How many children is this for you?”

  “Four.”

  “Four children with de Wolfe and de Lohr blood. You are building a great empire, my lord.”

  “I hope so.”

  “You would not happen to have a brother or cousin looking for a wife?”

  Hermes immediately popped to mind, but Will shook his head. “I am sorry, I do not,” he said. “If you will excuse me, I must walk the wall. Please go to the hall and enjoy a warm fire and good meal. I will be there shortly.”

  With that, he pulled himself away from Gar before the man could press him further. He didn’t like the feeling he was getting from him, something pushy and greedy.

  It was something he couldn’t seem to shake.

  The more he thought about it, the sorrier he felt for Adria.

  *

  “I told you that I was fine,” Lily said as Tarraby stepped away from the bed. “My husband frets like an old woman.”

  Tarraby wasn’t finished with his examination. He went to his medicament bag and collected what looked like a horn. It was fashioned out of wood and he bent over Lily’s belly, putting the wide end of it against her rounded belly.

  And he listened.

  As Lily and Adria watched curiously, he positioned the odd horn around her belly, listening for… something. They had no idea what, but he was clearly intent as he did it. Then, he put it away and examined her belly as closely as he could with her dress and underthings covering it. He thumped, poked, and prodded. Then, he tried to feel the position of the child.

  “My lady, your husband mentioned a fall,” he finally said. “When did you fall?”

  Lily lay with a pillow under her head, watching him. “Last month,” she said. “A little more than three weeks ago. Why?”

  “When you fell, how did you land?”

  “On my backside,” she said. “Right in the mud.”

  “And you have been having pains since?”

  “Sometimes,” she shrugged. “But I had the same thing with Atticus.”

  “And do you bleed on occasion?”

  She sighed faintly. “I have,” she said. “But rarely. It is nothing.”

  “Is it brightly colored or dark?”

  “Bright, I suppose,” she said. “Why are you asking all of these questions? Is something wrong?”

  He didn’t say anything. He kept trying to isolate the position of the baby. “Are you having childbirth pains? For example, when the womb tightens as if it is trying to expel the child?”

  Lily frowned. “I have had a few of those pains, but I had them with all of my children,” she said. “I am not going to answer any more questions unless you tell me why you are asking them.”

  He glanced up at her. “I am trying to get as much information as I can,” he said. “They are all normal questions, I assure you.”

  Lily was still frowning, but she didn’t say anything more. She looked at Adria, who simply shrugged. She didn’t know any more than Lily did.

  Tarraby finally stopped poking.

  “Do you have pain in your back?” he asked.

  Lily nodded. “Most pregnant women do,” she said. “It is nothing unusual.”

  “Does your back pain you when you feel the pains in your belly?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “And you feel the child move actively?”

  “He is quite active.”

  Tarraby fell silent as he went over to his table and rinsed his hands again with the distilled grain liquid.

  “Were your other children large when they were born?” he asked.

  Lily nodded. “Atticus was positively huge,” she said. “Why? Is this child large?”

  Tarraby nodded. “I think so,” he said. “His head is still under your ribs, however. He is not ready to be born yet.”

  “That is a relief,” Lily said. “I still have at least two more months to go.”

  “I do not think so,” he said. “The child feels large enough that he could be born next month.”

  “That is impossible.”

  She said it in a clipped manner, as if there was no room for debate. New mothers were often certain in such things, but Tarraby glanced at her as if he wanted to say something but held his tongue. There was something in his expression that was quickly there, quickly gone. He returned his focus to his satchel and packed up his phials and instruments.

  “Thank you for tolerating my questions, Lady de Wolfe,” he said. “Your child seems well enough.”

  Lily smiled as Adria helped her sit up. “I told you,” she said. “Now you may go tell my husband so he stops worrying.”

  Tarraby simply nodded, collected his satchel, and left the chamber.

  He had a man to see.

  In fact, he was rather singularly focused as he headed down to the entry l
evel and out into the night beyond. The sun was down and cooking smells were filling the air as warmth and light radiated from the great hall across the inner ward. He suspected that he could find de Wolfe there so he headed over to the hall, entering to a heat blast as he came through the doors.

  Men were eating a hearty stew with beef, cloves, and onions. He could smell the rich scent. Bread and ale were upon the table and the men were laughing and chatting as the evening deepened. A few called out to him, inviting him to join them, but he waved them off, searching for the garrison commander, whom he saw at the end of one of the long feasting tables.

  Moving through the smoke and men, Tarraby found Will sitting with Marcellus, Hermes, and Ronan. They hadn’t started eating yet, but were simply sitting and talking, passing a pitcher of wine around while everyone else drank ale. When Will noticed Tarraby, he turned his full attention to him.

  “Ah,” he said. “I see you are finished with Lady de Wolfe.”

  Tarraby nodded, trying not to seem as if he had come on an urgent matter. But the truth was that he had and he very much needed to speak with de Wolfe. Now was the delicate task of getting the man alone without causing him panic.

  “Aye,” he said. “If you have a moment, I would like to discuss my findings.”

  Will nodded, setting his cup down. “Of course,” he said. “Did you discover anything out of the ordinary?”

  Tarraby looked to the men sitting around and smiled weakly. “I am not sure that Lady de Wolfe would appreciate your men knowing her most intimate details.”

  Will was on his feet. “How stupid of me,” he said. “The truth is that she would murder me in my sleep if she found out. Let us discuss this someplace private.”

  Tarraby simply nodded, following Will away from the table and out of the hall through a side entrance usually only used by the servants. It dumped out into a small area between the chapel and the hall. There were people around, but no one in earshot, so Will came to a halt and faced the physic.

  “I hope Lady de Wolfe was cooperative,” he said, a smirk on his face. “She can be difficult if the mood strikes her.”

  Tarraby shook his head. “She was most cooperative, I assure you,” he said. “My lord, I hope that I may be completely honest with you given the subject matter.”

  “I would hope that you are always honest with me regardless of the subject matter.”

  Tarraby cleared his throat softly. “That is not exactly what I meant,” he said. “Sometimes the truth is difficult to hear and I am not a man accustomed to carefully wording my opinions. I have many years of education and experience behind them and, as you know, I tend to be frank.”

  The smirk began to fade from Will’s face. “I understand that,” he said, his gaze on the man for a moment as if sensing what was about to come. The realization made his blood run cold. “Something is wrong. What is it?”

  Tarraby didn’t take any pleasure in telling Will his thoughts, of course. In fact, this was a difficult case. A new mother, a new child… nay, this wasn’t going to be a simple thing at all. He’d been thinking that all the way from Lady de Wolfe’s chamber of how he was going to deliver such news to a man she’d been married to for many years. Her husband, father of her children. He was a de Wolfe and she was a de Lohr, two of the greatest families in England.

  They were building a dynasty together.

  It was best not to beat around the bush.

  “When I was apprentice to a fine physic in Toledo, a woman came to him with the same pains as Lady de Wolfe has,” he said carefully. “This was a wealthy woman, a contessa in fact. She had her own midwives but about two months before her child was due to arrive, her husband sent her to my master because she had fallen from her horse and was experiencing pains in her belly and back. It was accompanied by tenderness in her belly when pressed and a good deal of blood.”

  Will was listening intently. “My wife has not fallen from a horse, but she did slip in the mud,” he said. “I did not see it happen, but I was told she landed heavily. My God… did she actually harm herself?”

  Tarraby kept his manner even. It wouldn’t do for panic to set in this early. He had something to tell de Wolfe and he needed the man’s attention until the end.

  No matter how painful.

  “As the weeks went on with the contessa, she continued to bleed and weaken,” he said. “The child, who had once been active, gradually lessened in activity until we could no longer feel him moving about. We were faced with a choice – either cut the mother open and take the child or to let God’s will be done. Her husband demanded that we take the child by force because he was desperate to have a son, so we cut into the mother to remove the child, but it was too late. Once we opened up her belly, we saw that the sack that provides nourishment to the child had become separated from the womb.”

  Will was looking at him in horror. “Because she fell from her horse?”

  Tarraby nodded. “The blow was too much,” he said. “There have been known cases where it has happened before. A woman carrying a child must be very careful because a fall can jolt loose things that are not meant to be jolted.”

  Will drew in a long, agonizing breath as he realized what Tarraby was driving at. “Like Lady de Wolfe.”

  Tarraby could see that the man was already figuring this all out. He tried not to appear too sorrowful as he delivered the final blow.

  “When the nourishment sack came away from the womb, it slowly killed the child,” he said. “It could no longer do what it was supposed to do. Unfortunately, it also meant that the woman was slowly bleeding to death internally. Once the sack comes away from the womb, there is nothing to be done. It cannot be healed. It cannot be repaired. There is nothing to be done.”

  By this time, the color had drained from Will’s face. “Are you telling me that this is what has happened to Lady de Wolfe?”

  Tarraby hesitated a moment before nodding. “I believe so,” he said quietly. “She is showing all of the symptoms, my lord, the same ones I have seen before. I must, therefore, ask you this – do you wish for me to cut into your wife to remove the child and try to save her life? Or do you wish for God’s will to be done?”

  It was clear that Will couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stared at Tarraby for several long, painful moments before turning away, trying to come to grips with what he’d been told. Shock didn’t quite cover it. Grief and agony did, but he couldn’t seem to react with either. He was struggling desperately to control himself. It seemed like a small eternity before he returned his focus to Tarraby.

  “Are you certain of this?” he asked hoarsely. “Are you absolutely certain?”

  Tarraby shrugged. “I have seen the same symptoms before, my lord,” he said. “Can I guarantee this is the issue? I cannot. But I am fairly certain this is the case.”

  Although Will had expected that answer, to hear the confirmation was still something of a shock. The fact that Tarraby didn’t seem to have any doubts weakened his grip on his composure. Maybe he’d been hoping for a shadow of uncertainty, something to give him some hope.

  But there was nothing.

  He exhaled sharply, as if an unseen fist had just hit him in the belly.

  “What can we do?” he demanded weakly. “Surely there is something we can do?”

  Tarraby could see that the man was beginning that slow ascent into panic. “As I have explained to you, at some point, you must make a decision, my lord,” he said. “I can cut into her and try to save her life, or we can let God’s will be done and let the process come to its natural conclusion.”

  Will scowled. “Natural conclusion?” he repeated, aghast. “You mean death?”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  “But if you try to take the child early, you can save her?”

  Tarraby hesitantly shrugged. “We were unable to save the contessa,” he said. “I cannot promise to save her, only to try. But the child… there is nothing we can do. I am sorry, my lord, truly.”

&
nbsp; Will stared at him. A dozen scenarios were running through his mind as his eyes flickered with an unsteady light. Pushing aside his grief and shock, he was trying to find some way to save both Lily and the child, but the truth was that he wasn’t a physic. He knew warfare and tactics and politics among his many talents, but healing wasn’t one of them.

  However, he knew who was.

  His father.

  Scott de Wolfe was a healer, a man who had learned from Will’s grandfather, Paris, who was also a skilled healer in his own right. Both men were well known to have the gift of health and healing and the family had often depended upon them for those talents. Perhaps they could help. Will wasn’t going to bring Lily to them and, even now, had made the decision not to go to his grandfather’s celebration of his day of birth, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to send for his father and grandfather to see what their opinion was of Tarraby’s diagnosis.

  To see if there was some hope.

  He simply couldn’t believe this was the end.

  “I thank you for your skill and your honesty, Tarraby,” he said, somewhat dazed. “Did… did you tell Lady de Wolfe any of this?”

  Tarraby shook his head. “Nay, my lord,” he said. “I assumed you would want to do it.”

  “To tell my wife that she is dying.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  Those words hit him like a hammer. They were so… cold. Will knew Tarraby wasn’t trying to be cold, but it all came out the same. Honesty was coldness right now and Will was trying to be calm and levelheaded about the situation. With God as his witness, he was trying hard. But so much was rolling through his mind that it was difficult to remain on an even keel.

  “Thank you,” he finally said, refusing to look at Tarraby. “You may go about your business, but do not speak of this to anyone. I must have your word.”

  Tarraby nodded. “You have it, my lord,” he said. “I would never speak of your lady wife to anyone.”

  “Will you look in on her tomorrow? To see if there is any change?”

  He was grasping at straws, as if a day might bring that hope he was trying so badly to find. Maybe Tarraby had been wrong. Maybe there was another diagnosis he simply hadn’t realized yet. Maybe by tomorrow, this will have all been simply a nightmare.