WolfeSword: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Suddenly, Hagg came forward and the dispute had been going on for about three years. Mostly, he raided the mine, or at least tried to, but Doncaster had more men and more power, and Hagg’s offensives were always turned away. He hadn’t come after the castle yet, but the army remained vigilant.

  One could never tell when dealing with Catesby Hagg.

  Still, Dacia felt no sense of danger as she headed for the postern gate. Her maids, the women who tended to her every need, would go with her if she asked them to but, at the moment, they were in the keep where they always were, dusting and cleaning and sewing and generally keeping busy, and Dacia was glad. She’d much rather take Amata with her, but she wasn’t at Edenthorpe, so she was content to go alone.

  It was better than going with those women who seemed to view her as Doncaster’s heiress rather than just a woman, an ordinary woman, of flesh and blood.

  It was a strange dynamic, indeed.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Dacia heard the voice as she neared the gate. Startled, she turned to see her grandfather’s captain approach.

  She grinned sheepishly.

  “To the river,” she said. “I did not see you around, Darian. Why did you not go with Grandfather into town?”

  Sir Darian de Lohr made a face that suggested he found the very idea distasteful. A big man with blond hair and sky-blue eyes, he was unwaveringly handsome, dedicated to duty, and a son of the House of de Lohr. There were few finer families in England and Darian had all the makings of a legend, like many of his ancestors.

  There had been whispers for years that he would make an excellent Duke of Doncaster with an advantageous marriage to the heiress, but there was one problem with that idea – he’d been at Edenthorpe for eleven years and Dacia had known him since her childhood. She had essentially grown up with him and he was the closest thing she had to a brother.

  Unfortunately for Darian, she didn’t view him as husband material.

  And he knew it.

  “Your grandfather took enough heavily armed men with him to start a small war should he have a mind to,” he said in answer to her question. “Besides, someone has to remain here, in command.”

  Her eyes twinkled at him. “It couldn’t be because you might see Amata in the village, could it?”

  He turned his nose up at her. “I do not know what you mean.”

  She laughed softly. “Not much, you don’t,” she said. “The last time she visited, she told me that she is madly in love with you.”

  “That was only for a brief moment and quite some time ago,” he pointed out. “She is madly in love with every man she meets.”

  Dacia shrugged. “That is possibly true,” she said. “Still, her father is rich. Marry the daughter and you inherit the father’s money.”

  “It would not be worth it.”

  Dacia snorted. “Poor Darian,” she said. Then, she threw a thumb in the direction of the postern gate. “Care to go with me to the river?”

  He shook his head. “I do not,” he said. “But take someone with you.”

  “I do not want to.”

  “You have an entire horde of women to choose from.”

  “Not them. I would rather go alone.”

  He frowned. “Then stay where I can see you, for Christ’s sake.”

  “I will.”

  “And do not go in the water,” he said, wagging a finger at her. “If something happens, you’re too far away. I may not be able to get to you in time.”

  She grinned, flashing him a lovely smile. “You worry like an old woman.”

  “It takes one to know one, old girl.”

  Dacia stiffened at the rather sore subject where her age was concerned. “I have only seen twenty-three years.”

  The wagging finger pointed at her. “You will see twenty and four years next month,” he said. “You forget that I know everything about you. Old age is swiftly approaching, lass.”

  Dacia had enough. She knew why he was saying such things. He’d never come right out and asked for her hand, but he liked to throw subtle digs her way.

  Old age is swiftly approaching, lass.

  Meaning the chance for suitors would soon be gone, leaving Darian as the victor by default.

  But not today. Sticking her tongue out at him, she turned away and headed to the postern gate, listening to him issue orders to the guards that were standing around. As she passed through, two of them followed her, though not closely enough to be a bother. Just enough to watch the area as she wandered around, enjoying the spring weather and pushing aside the knight who wanted both her and her dukedom.

  She’d push it all aside until her grandfather returned.

  Unfortunately for Dacia, that was sooner than she had expected.

  She had been down by the river’s edge, noting the reeds that were starting to grow in and thinking on the baskets and hats her maids could weave from them, when she heard the sentry cry go up. When she looked up to see what the commotion was, she realized she had wandered further away from the castle than she had intended. In fact, there was now a road between her and the castle if she wanted to make it home quickly. Otherwise, she would have to follow the river back the way she had come so she could slip in through the postern gate and that would take time.

  Then, she began to see the standards of Doncaster. Bright blue with a golden stag upon it, affectionately named Cuffy. No one knew how it got started, but the stag had been called Cuffy for many years. In fact, that was what the villagers of Doncaster called the duke – Old Cuffy. Not to his face, of course, but he was referred to as “Old Cuffy” by almost everyone.

  Cuffy was making his march towards the great gatehouse of Edenthorpe and Dacia could see her grandfather’s carriage. He didn’t ride a horse these days, too old and too fragile, so he rode in a fortified carriage everywhere he went that was far more comfortable than the bony back of a horse.

  Gathering her skirts, she was preparing to walk up to the road to meet the carriage when a dog of enormous proportions suddenly shot out of the tall grass, chasing a squawking duck and heading right for her. He was big, gray, and hairy, and all Dacia could see was a mouth with fangs coming in her direction.

  Terrified, she turned tail and began to run.

  The dog was right on her heels. She thought he may have even bitten her skirt because she swore she felt tugging. She began to swat at the dog, demanding he go away, but the dog wasn’t listening. The river was straight ahead and as she tried to make a sharp turn, away from the river and away from the dog, the beast jumped on her from behind and ended up pushing her right into the water.

  Splash!

  Dacia went in, but she didn’t go down all the way. She fell to her knees in the shallow, rocky shore, keeping her head out of the water, as the dog leapt all around her. Now, the dog was barking happily and the birds that had been gathered on the riverbank, including more ducks, were scattering.

  With water in her face, and on her knees, she blinked water droplets out of her eyes as the dog chased the birds around. It was clear that he wasn’t interested in her, only the birds. When he ran close to her, he licked her face as she picked up two handfuls of mud and threw it at the animal. It drove the dog away, but not far. Not far enough, at any rate.

  Damnable dog!

  With a heavy sigh at the ridiculous and naughty dog, Dacia struggled to stand up when she was suddenly grasped from behind.

  “Here, my lady. Allow me to help you.”

  Panic set in.

  “Sup with Old Cuffy tonight, shall we?” Bose said with satisfaction. “I hear he sets an astonishing table.”

  “Mayhap,” Cassius grunted. “But we’re not staying beyond tonight, Bose. It’s still going to take us at least six more days to reach Castle Questing and I do not want to delay. I want to get home and spend some time there before I have to turn around and head back to London. Edward will not let me cavort in the north forever.”

  “Then let us eat, sleep, and be on our way.�
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  As long as de Shera understood this night was simply a duty visit, and a quick one at that, Cassius was satisfied. He nodded at the man as if to emphasize his point before returning his focus to the road. They were riding behind the duke’s brightly painted carriage, resplendent with blue and gold colors, all reflecting gaily in the bright sun. Edenthorpe Castle was up ahead and Cassius shielded his eyes, getting a good look at the legendary seat of Doncaster.

  “I’d forgotten how enormous this place is,” he said, catching sight of the blue and gold standards on the battlements, snapping in the breeze. “When we were here two years ago, I spent the entire night roaming the great hall. I do not think I even ate.”

  To his left, Rhori snorted. “I spent most of the night on the wall,” Rhori said. “I really only saw the outside of the place. Never the warm and comfortable inside where you always linger.”

  Cassius fought off a grin. “Did you ever stop to think that Edward is trying to hide you from the good people of England?” he said. “With a face such as yours, he does not want to frighten the women.”

  Rhori grinned, but he was slightly behind Cassius so the man couldn’t see him. “There is something on my body that frightens the women, but it is not my face.”

  “Now you are starting to sound like de Shera.”

  “You are not the only man around here with astonishing physical traits, Cass.”

  “Aye, I am.”

  That brought snorts from Bose, who shook his head at the ribbing. But this was usual with them. It was how they expressed their love for one another.

  “Speaking of women,” Bose said, looking at Cass. “I saw you dancing with that blonde lass back in Doncaster. Did you get her name?”

  Cassius nodded. “Amata,” he said. “She said her father is a local baron.”

  “She was pretty.”

  Cassius cast him a long look. “And she knows it,” he said. “She was most unhappy when I decided to leave with Doncaster. She told me that I should not stay here because of the man’s granddaughter. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do not believe we saw a granddaughter the last time we were here. I do not even recall being introduced to such a woman.”

  Bose shook his head. “Nor I,” he said. “Doncaster is a widower, as I recall, and his only son died long ago.”

  “And left him with a granddaughter, evidently,” Cassius said. “At least, that was what Amata said. She also said something strange – she said the granddaughter bears witch’s marks.”

  Bose frowned. “What are witch’s marks?”

  “Spots, evidently,” Cassius said. “Skin blemishes, mayhap. I am not sure, to be truthful. She accused the granddaughter of being a witch and I told her to mind her tongue. The conversation collapsed from there.”

  Bose cocked his head thoughtfully, looking up to the Doncaster standards in the distance. “Curious,” he said, scratching at his neck. “But I’ve seen women with spots before. We all have. On their face or neck, it is not uncommon.”

  “Freckles,” Rhori said. “Sun spots, or whatever one wishes to call them. Horses are freckled sometimes, as is fruit, food, and a number of other things. But I know there are superstitious fools that believe they only appear on witches or the possessed.”

  Bose looked over at him. “You do not believe that?”

  “I do not,” Rhori said flatly. “I believe what I can see. If a woman is evil, then it is in her soul, not because she is possessed by a demon. Demons are a creation of men.”

  “You are a pragmatic man, my friend,” Cassius said. “My younger sister, Thora, has a big freckle by the corner of her mouth. She is a beautiful girl and men swarm her. I’ve not heard anyone call her a witch because of it.”

  “Would you not kill them if they did?” Rhori asked.

  Cassius cracked a smile. “I am an excellent brother,” he said. “Between my eldest brother and my two younger brothers, no one who insults my sisters stands a chance of survival.”

  Rhori and Bose snorted. “Are they all as big as you are?” Rhori asked. “I’ve never met your family, Cass.”

  “I have,” Bose said knowingly. “And, aye, they are all as big as he is. Bigger, even. You think Cass is tall? His father and elder brother are giants. The two younger brothers are also quite tall. Whatever is in the water in the north makes men larger than life. They grow like trees.”

  Cassius shook his head. “In our case, it is the Northman influence,” he said. “I have Scots and English blood on my father’s side, and Scots and Northman blood on my mother’s. Do you remember that I told you about my grandfather, once? He is the King of the Northmen. They call him Magnus the Law-Mender.”

  “So you are a god,” Bose said, a hint of jest in his tone. “We are mere mortals and you are the grandson of not only a king, but also the grandson of the greatest knight the borders have ever seen in William de Wolfe.”

  Cassius cast him a long look. “Never forget it.”

  That brought soft laughter from Rhori and Bose. As they drew nearer to the castle, now looming up before them with great, white-stoned walls mined from local stone that was prevalent to the area, the dog that had been plodding patiently alongside Cassius’ horse suddenly took off, chasing something in the grass. They turned to see a duck rising up out of the overgrowth along the side of the road.

  “Christ,” Cassius muttered. “There he goes, that foolish dog. Argos!”

  He bellowed at the dog, followed by a piercing whistle, but the big dog was down in the thick grass, heading towards the river. He watched as the dog dashed further and further away.

  “He’ll come back,” Bose said. “He always does.”

  Cassius was indecisive. “True,” he said. “But he is getting older and he tends to get lost in new places, the idiot. If he gets too far away, he might lose his way.”

  Bose reined his horse towards the side of the road. “Then I shall fetch him.”

  “Nay,” Cassius said. “You stay with the duke. I’ll find him. He doesn’t particularly like you, anyway. He might never come back if you try to catch him.”

  “That dog loves me.”

  “That dog growls at you every time you get near him.”

  As Bose cocked an eyebrow at the old dog who only seemed to like Cassius and no one else, Cassius directed his horse over to the side of the road, sliding down the slight embankment as he headed towards the river. He could hear barking and whistled for the dog again, but Argos was being stubborn. He was having too much fun chasing ducks.

  Until Cassius heard a feminine shriek.

  Digging his spurs into his horse’s flanks, he thundered towards the river.

  CHAPTER THREE

  When Cassius arrived at the river’s side, he spied a disaster.

  A woman was in the river on her knees while Argos cavorted around her, chasing ducks and other waterfowl. He was having a grand time. As Cassius watched in horror, the dog ran up to the lady, licked her face, and then shook himself so that the water on his fur sprayed out all over her.

  The lady yelped.

  Cassius was in the water in an instant.

  “Here, my lady. Allow me to help you.”

  When he touched her, the woman shrieked again, yanking her arm away from him and stumbling forward, splashing down into the water again. Cassius wasn’t sure what to do, so he stood there, watching her struggle to her feet, pulling the ends of her wet apron around her face before she ever turned to look at him. In fact, she was covering most of her face, leading Cassius to believe that Argos must have hurt her somehow.

  He was mortified.

  “My lady, are you injured?” he asked, concerned. “My deepest apologies. The dog is usually harmless, I swear. If you are injured, I shall seek a physic immediately.”

  The lady finally turned to him, staggering, with one hand holding the apron on her face and the other one gathering her soaking skirts. The only thing he could really see were her eyes and her forehead, and a head of dark, luscious hair that was braide
d into one long braid that trailed to her buttocks.

  But those eyes… somewhere between pale blue and pale green, as if they had a fire all their own.

  He’d never seen a color like that in his life.

  “Is this your dog?” she demanded through the cloth on her face.

  He nodded with great remorse. “Aye,” he said. “I am exceedingly sorry, my lady. If you are injured, please let me help you.”

  She was agitated. That much was clear. “He is a very naughty dog.”

  “I know, my lady. He is usually much better behaved.”

  “He jumped on me.”

  “I am very sorry, my lady.”

  “He… he got me all wet!”

  Cassius sighed sharply and whistled, one of those piercing bursts, and the dog immediately came to his side. He looked at the dog sternly.

  “Do you see what you did?” he scolded the mutt. “You pushed this lady into the river and hurt her, and now I am at her mercy because of you. If she wishes to beat me in retaliation, then I must let her. If she wishes to kick me, then I will have to stand for it. If she wants to light my hair on fire and call it justice, then I will have no say in the matter. Well? Do you see what you have done, you ridiculous creature?”

  The dog wagged his wet tail and Cassius frowned deeply. But he was also trying to catch a glimpse of the lady from the corners of his eyes.

  She was still standing there.

  Cassius wanted to see how she was reacting, hoping that she was softening with his humor and that the dog escapade was a forgivable offense. He finally dared to look at her and he swore he saw her eyes crinkling, as if she were smiling, but the moment their eyes met, she hastily turned for the riverbank.

  “I will not beat you nor light your hair on fire,” she said, sloshing through the water. “But Argos had better learn to behave himself. The next woman he jumps on might not be so forgiving.”

  Cassius was following her, sort of. He was walking parallel to her, holding out his hands as if to keep her from teetering because she was having difficulty with her wet, heavy skirts.