WolfeSword: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Darian eyed her. “That is possible,” he said. Then, he turned to Cassius, who was still standing back by the kitchen door. “My lord, may I ask you to ride with me to escort the lady? We can leave your knights here at Doncaster in case this is a ruse.”

  Cassius came closer, interested in what Darian de Lohr was saying, but more interested in the fact that Dacia had dropped the apron from her face. In all of the fuss with the subject of Old Timeo and his ill family, she seemed to have forgotten the defenses she’d so carefully held up. Her face was now exposed to the dim light of the kitchen.

  And what a face it was.

  Magnificent didn’t quite cover it.

  She had freckles, that was true. A fairly heavy dusting covered her nose, her cheeks, and she even had a few down around her mouth. They weren’t even very dark in coloring and nothing, in his opinion, that needed to be covered up. No amount of freckles could take away from her sweetly oval face, a nose that was a little wide, and lips that could only be described as lush and bow-shaped. With her dark, arched brows, brilliant eyes and dark hair, he was smitten by what he saw. Perhaps she wasn’t the pale, fragile beauty that was the romantic ideal to some men, but if one took time to really look beneath the freckles, she was something astonishing.

  For a moment, he was actually speechless, but for necessity’s sake, he quickly recovered.

  “What ruse do you speak of?” he asked, focusing on Darian. “Is Doncaster having trouble the king is unaware of?”

  Darian sighed heavily. “Some,” he said, unaware that Cassius was studying Dacia closely. “He hasn’t wanted Edward to know. He believes it will resolve itself.”

  “What will resolve itself?”

  Darian’s gaze lingered on the king’s Lord Protector. The House of de Lohr and the House of de Wolfe were family because Cassius’ cousin, William de Wolfe, had married Darian’s cousin, Lily. Although he didn’t know Cassius well, he had met him a few times in the course of his duties with Doncaster and knew that Cassius was one of the most elite knights in England.

  Given that they were family, even if they didn’t personally know one another well, it was implied that there was already trust between them. When Cassius had appeared earlier that day, Darian was more than happy to welcome the man to Edenthorpe and, now, he was more than willing to let him in on Doncaster’s troubles.

  Had he known what Cassius was thinking about Dacia, however, he might have changed that opinion.

  “We have a neighbor named Catesby Hagg who is laying claim to lands that belong to Doncaster,” Darian said. “It is a long story, so suffice it to say that Hagg has been bold enough to launch a few raids on the disputed land.”

  “But nothing on Edenthorpe?”

  “Nay, nothing on the castle,” Darian said. “But we must be vigilant.”

  Cassius’ gaze drifted to Dacia, standing partially in the shadows of the kitchen. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized that she’d dropped her apron, waiting for the moment when she would remember and suddenly cover herself up again.

  “And this old man who has summoned help?” he said. “Is he to be trusted?”

  Dacia nodded. “Very much so,” she said. “His wife has not enjoyed good health over the past couple of years and I have helped her.”

  “You are a healer, my lady?”

  Dacia shrugged. “I have some knowledge, aye,” she said. “It is part of my responsibilities as the Lady of Edenthorpe. I tend the sick and the poor to the best of my abilities.”

  That was very true in many houses all over England. The lady of the castle was always expected to tend to the sick and the weak.

  That was good enough for Cassius.

  “Then I will go with you,” he said to Darian. “Let me find du Bois and de Shera and tell them where I am going. Who are you leaving in command?”

  Darian gestured towards the gatehouse. “I have four knights under my command,” he said. “Lesser knights, young and hungry, but experienced. I will leave one of them in command, Sir Clifton St. Marr.”

  “You trust him?”

  “Implicitly.”

  “How old?”

  Darian lifted his shoulders. “Young,” he said. “He has only been a knight for a few years, but his judgment is impeccable.”

  Cassius digested that. “Then let me leave du Bois in command,” he said. “He has been a knight for twenty years and can command a battle better than almost any man alive. He would submit to St. Marr if I told him to, but let us not strip the man of the respect he has earned, shall we?”

  Darian was agreeable. “Absolutely,” he said. “I will tell my men that the king’s knight is in command while I am gone. They will be most agreeable to taking orders from a man who is in royal service.”

  “Better than that, he is one of Edward’s Praetorian guards,” Cassius said. “That’s what they call the king’s personal guard, you know. Praetorians.”

  “Prestigious, indeed.”

  With that, they headed out, following Dacia as she scurried away to collect her things. Cassius went about his business, finding Rhori and Bose still in the great hall and explaining to them what their duties would be until he returned from his escort duty. When Bose offered to go in his stead, Cassius brushed him off. Perhaps too quickly. He didn’t want anyone else taking the escort duty.

  If Dacia was going out, he was going with her.

  He wanted another look at that sweetly freckled face.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The night seemed still and calm enough, but thirty soldiers were spread around Old Timeo’s small farm as Dacia worked inside with a sick old woman and her equally ill daughter. Their mood was tense, as if the night were too still for their liking.

  Something was in the air.

  An icy breeze was coming off the meadows, chilling everything in its path as the moon rose higher in the sky and bathed the landscape in silver. The cottage was small, but warm light burned in the windows as Cassius and Darian stood outside the doorway, watching the darkened land for any signs that this might have been the ruse Darian had been wary of.

  But everything seemed still.

  The cottage was in view of Edenthorpe Castle, the massive-walled bastion to the south, the white stones gleaming silvery beneath the moonglow. It sat on an elevated position, with forests to the east and west of it, but from the cottage, there was a clear field of vision across a wide-open meadow. With torches burning on the walls against the dark night, it made for an awesome sight.

  Cassius was in full battle gear, lingering on the edge of the line of men around the cottage. Every now and then, the cold breeze would bring a scent of the pine trees that grew heavily in these parts. A nightbird would call, the screech filling the air, but that was nearly the only sound.

  Cassius was starting to think that Darian had been wrong about Hagg.

  He walked along the road, passing the line of Doncaster soldiers, as Argos plodded alongside him. The dog went everywhere he went, even to battle. In fact, the dog was a seasoned veteran as well as any old soldier. He may have been silly and clumsy, but he was smart when it came to sensing trouble. He’d also been known to sniff out an attack or ambush before it happened, and Cassius trusted the dog’s instincts. But even Argos was calm on this night.

  Darian was standing at the mouth of the path that led to the front door of the cottage. He, too, was looking south at the great fortress of Edenthorpe in the distance, but he turned his attention to Cassius as the man came near.

  “It is a cold night,” Cassius commented. “Men tend to stay close to their hearth and bed on nights like this.”

  Darian’s blue eyes glimmered. “What you mean to say is that I was mad to think this was a ruse.”

  Cassius fought off a grin. “You were simply being prudent,” he said. Then, he gestured to the cottage. “Does this kind of thing happen often?”

  Darian turned to look at the small, neat home. “You mean illness at this house?”

  “I mean Lady Daci
a being called forth to tend the sick.”

  Darian nodded. “As she said, it is expected of her,” he said. “She was being humble when she said she only knew a little about healing. The truth is that she knows a great deal. She had a teacher for years, a former priest from Rome, who taught her many things, a knowledge of healing potions included. She knows more than most physics.”

  Cassius looked at him. “Impressive,” he said. “Then she is a lady of skill.”

  Darian snorted softly. “Skill is where she begins,” he said. “Where she ends, it is not yet known.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that she speaks several languages,” Darian said, leaning against the stone wall that surrounded the cottage. “She can do mathematics better than I can. She sews, manages the household efficiently, paints beautifully, and can debate the bible and philosophy with the greatest scholars in England. Intelligent doesn’t even begin to describe her.”

  Cassius stared at him. “And she is not yet married?” he asked, incredulous. “Why in the hell not? With talents like those, and the Doncaster dukedom, she should be the most sought-after bride in the country.”

  Darian shrugged. “You would think so,” he said. “But… well, there are a few dynamics in play that prevent it.”

  “Like what?”

  Darian turned his attention back to the fortress in the distance, crossing his big arms thoughtfully. “When she was a young girl, she had a nurse who was convinced she was being marked by the devil because of the freckles across her face,” he said. “I know it sounds silly but, in these parts, the fear of Satan is a real thing. The freckles became more plentiful as Lady Dacia grew up and the nurse was convinced that she was just this side of being possessed. When that gets into a young girl’s mind, it is difficult to get it out.”

  Cassius frowned. “Does she think she’s possessed?”

  Darian shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “She never speaks of it. But she keeps herself covered. She has no real friends except for a petty cousin because when she was young, the girls from the village would whisper behind her back about the freckles on her face. Witch’s marks, they would call them. Truthfully, I think her cousin started those rumors, but it does not matter now. Thanks to that radical nurse and her cruel friends, she has learned to cover herself up, convinced she is just as ugly as they have said.”

  Cassius grunted, shaking his head in disgust. “And she refuses suitors because of that?”

  “Refuses them, rejects them, all of that,” Darian said. “It wasn’t as if she really had any, but anyone who has come to her grandfather with marital interest is sent away. The duke will not entertain any suitors for her.”

  Cassius eyed him. “Don’t tell me that he thinks she is ugly,” he said. “She’s his heiress, for Christ’s sake. You would think he would simply select the best husband for her and force her to wed.”

  Darian couldn’t disagree. “You would think so, except he doesn’t,” he said. “She refuses and he listens to her. He will not force her.”

  “Does he not care?”

  “I am not entirely certain,” Darian said pensively. “He loves her, but it is almost as if he has lost his will to do anything about her. The older he becomes, the most distant he becomes. I have not yet figured out why.”

  “Resentment, mayhap?”

  “It could be.”

  Cassius scratched his neck, thinking on the lovely Dacia. While the situation shouldn’t concern him in the least, he found that it did. She was beautiful and witty. At least, he thought so. Hearing how educated and bright she was from Darian, he wasn’t surprised. It made her much more alluring to him. She seemed to be quite the perfect lady except for the fact that in her childhood, someone had planted the seed that she was unattractive because of her freckles.

  It had stayed with her.

  After a moment, he shook his head at the sadness of the situation.

  “When I was coming to Edenthorpe earlier today, we were caught up in the Lords of Misrule festival,” he said. “When I mentioned I was going to Edenthorpe, a young woman I met there told me about Lady Dacia’s witch’s marks.”

  Darian looked at him. “What was the young woman’s name?”

  “Amata de Branton.”

  Darian snorted, shaking his head in disgust. “That is her cousin,” he said. “That little chit does all she can to tear Dacia down. It’s truly despicable. But on the other hand, Dacia’s marks are common knowledge in the village, so she is not repeating anything that isn’t already known. Whenever Dacia goes into town, which is rare, she always covers herself so as not to frighten or offend anyone with her face.”

  Cassius frowned. “I saw her face,” he said. “She is a beautiful woman. Surely you think so.”

  Darian nodded. “I do,” he said. “Truth be told, I have entertained thoughts of marrying her myself.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  Darian shrugged, looking at his feet. “I am not entirely sure the duke would approve,” he said. “And Dacia… truthfully, she has never shown the slightest interest in me. Whatever feelings I have for her are entirely one-sided. I know that feelings do not matter in a marriage, but it would be nice to have a wife who actually wanted to be married to me.”

  Cassius looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You are a de Lohr,” he said. “You are a cousin to the Earl of Hereford and Worcester. That makes you quite appropriate.”

  “Not for a duke’s granddaughter,” Darian said, smiling without humor. “She should marry a royal relation or an earl at the very least. Not a mere knight. But… I shall not give up. Dacia is already twenty years and three, so I am biding my time. When she grows a year or two older, her grandfather may be ready to accept any offer.”

  “And then you shall strike.”

  “Exactly.”

  Cassius simply nodded, understanding the man’s plan and completely understanding his admitted attraction to Lady Dacia. Cassius was having some of his own attraction to the woman going on, but he suspected that Darian was subtly laying his claim so Cassius knew the situation.

  Not that Cassius had any designs on her.

  … did he?

  “Then I wish you luck,” he said, clearing his throat and fighting off a stronger sense of disappointment when it came to Lady Dacia. Disappointment that Darian had perhaps a stronger claim, and intentions, than he did. “I think you would make an excellent Duke of Doncaster.”

  Darian grinned nervously. “It is a heady thought, indeed,” he said. But then, he sobered. “May I tell you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “I would take Dacia even without the dukedom.”

  Cassius was quite positive that the statement was, indeed, staking a claim. “Then I will again wish you luck,” he said. “From what you told me, you may need it. But never forget you are a de Lohr. Doncaster can do no better than that.”

  Darian’s smile turned genuine. “You honor me,” he said. “I am glad we have had this chance to speak, my lord. It has been a great honor.”

  “You will call me Cassius,” Cassius said, cocking an eyebrow. “You will not address me formally. We are family, after all. My cousin, Will, married your cousin several years ago. That marriage linked the de Wolfe and de Lohr families forever.”

  Darian nodded in agreement. “It did, indeed,” he said. “In fact, I…”

  He was cut off when one of his men shouted, pointing, and everyone turned towards the great bastion of Edenthorpe. Beneath the silver moonglow, they could see something moving in the distance, near the castle walls. There were gangs of men on horseback, bearing torches, as they watched, a barrage of flaming arrows launched at the men upon the walls. It took everyone a moment to realize what they were watching.

  A raid.

  “I thought you said Hagg had never attacked the castle,” Cassius said, incredulous. “What in the hell is that?”

  Darian was momentarily flabbergasted. “Damn,” he finally hissed. “He n
ever has attacked the castle.”

  Cassius could see that the activity was growing. “That, my friend, has changed,” he said, giving Darian a shove. “If not him, then someone is, and at night, no less. Get your men back there. I will go inside and sit with the lady.”

  Darian looked at him. “I cannot leave her unprotected, Cassius,” he said. “I must…”

  “You cannot take her through those lines and you know it. She must remain here.”

  “But if they move in this direction…”

  Cassius cut him off, though not unkindly. “If they see thirty Doncaster soldiers around this cottage, they are going to suspect that they are protecting something,” he pointed out quickly. “You must get these men away from here so as not to attract attention. Get them away from here and I will protect the lady with my life. I swear they’ll not get her as long as there is breath left in my body, Darian. But you have a castle under siege.”

  Darian was torn, but only for a split second. He knew that what Cassius said was true. Soldiers around the cottage would only attract attention, so it would be best to move them. After a moment of indecision, he nodded.

  “Very well,” he said. “Get inside and stay with her.”

  “I will.”

  “Do not leave her for any reason.”

  “I will not, I promise.”

  Darian emitted a sharp whistle between his teeth and his men began to run for their horses. He, too, started to move, but not before he looked pointedly at Cassius.

  “I will return,” he said.

  Cassius was heading for the cottage door, whistling for Argos as he went. “I know,” he said. “Be cautious. There are only thirty of you and more than a few hundred of the enemy.”

  Darian waved him off, now rushing for his steed. Cassius bolted for the cottage door, yanking it open, and dashed inside with the dog on his heels. As he threw the bolt on the door, he happened to catch a glimpse of Dacia’s startled gaze.

  “Shutter the windows,” he commanded softly. “Close them all up. Quickly, now.”