WolfeSword: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  The occupants of the cottage were an older woman, a middle-aged woman, two young children, an old man, and Dacia. The old man began to move without question, but Dacia stood up from where she was bent over the older woman.

  “What is it?” she asked, concerned. “What has happened?”

  Cassius went to help the old man place the shutters in front of the window closest to the door. “It seems there is a raiding party at Edenthorpe,” he said. “Darian has taken your escort because we are afraid it would attract their attention. Therefore, we are going to fortify this cottage and settle down until the raid is finished.

  Her eyes widened. “Hagg?”

  “Possibly.”

  Dacia didn’t say anything. Cassius was moving to the next window when he happened to look at her. She was still standing there and he knew it was because she was concerned, perhaps even indecisive about what she should do. Her home was under attack, as outlandish as that sounded, and she was understandably shaken.

  Confused.

  He spoke softly.

  “Everything will be all right, my lady. Return to your work.”

  Dacia looked over at him and her gaze lingered for a moment. She was wearing a series of gossamer veils across her face and on her head, essentially only revealing some of her hair and both eyes. Everything else was covered. It was the apron all over again except with finer material.

  But there was no mistaking those magnificent eyes, now filled with concern.

  “Do you really think so?” she asked quietly.

  “I do.”

  “You do not think it is too serious?”

  “Probably not, but it is best to be prudent. Do not fear.”

  She continued staring at him before finally nodding her head and turning away. But her movements were slow and uncertain, apprehensive with the turn the night had taken. Cassius watched her return to work, trying to ease the fever of an old woman who didn’t look as if she would survive the night. He went about helping the old man secure all of the shutters in the two-room cottage, returning to the larger common room and taking position next to the door where he could peer through the shutters at the castle in the distance.

  It was going to be a long night.

  “Well?” Dacia whispered. “Is the fight still going on?”

  Cassius had been watching the battle for quite some time. The bright moon had sunk low in the sky, indicative of the late hour, but he could still see some movement near the castle. Whoever had attacked Edenthorpe had not quite given up yet.

  “A little,” he said, turning to look at her. “I can still see activity at the gatehouse, but it seems to have dissipated elsewhere. Where does this Catesby Hagg live?”

  “South and west,” she said. “A half-day’s ride from Edenthorpe.”

  Cassius nodded before turning to watch the activity. “The moon will set soon,” he said. “Their light will be gone, so I suspect they are heading home after a fruitless attempt to assault Edenthorpe.”

  He heard Dacia sigh. “Do you really think so?”

  “I do. It is all but over.”

  She paused a moment, grateful that the attack on her home hadn’t been worse. “In all my years living at Edenthorpe, I can only remember two assaults,” she said, breathing heavily with relief. “I do not even remember why or who, but I know they did not last long. They were both so long ago. Edenthorpe has always been peaceful.”

  Cassius cocked an eyebrow. “Because only a fool would attack such a place,” he said. “With those tall walls and those berms around it, I would say that it is impenetrable. It is demoralizing to attack a castle, knowing you have no chance.”

  He spoke like a man who knew his way around a fight. “Have you seen many battles?” she asked. “Mayhap that is a foolish question, given your profession.”

  “It is not foolish,” Cassius said. “There are knights who see little battle and knights that see constant conflict. In answer to your question, I have seen many. Too many to count.”

  “All of them in England?”

  “Some in England, some in Scotland, some in Wales, and a couple in France.”

  “Your family is a warring family, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “We are knights and we have property to protect,” he said. “If someone wishes to take our property, we will fight. If the king needs our support, we lend it. There are other reasons to fight, of course, but good reasons. We do not go to war simply for war’s sake.”

  “I did not mean it the way it sounded,” she said. “I simply meant you have a great deal of experience in warfare.”

  “Definitely.”

  “And you have seen much of it with Edward?”

  “The king has many enemies.”

  Dacia could hear something in his voice, something deadly. There was a stool next to the door and, wearily, she planted herself upon it, thinking of the events of the night, of Edenthorpe, and of Cassius.

  It had been a most eventful evening.

  “They have seen my strength for themselves, have watched me rise from the darkness of war, dripping with my enemies’ blood,” she murmured.

  Cassius looked at her, his expression flickering with curiosity and recognition. “From Beowulf,” he said softly. “How would you know that?”

  Dacia glanced him, feeling perhaps a little embarrassed. “Forgive me,” she said. “I did not mean to sound like a doomsayer. It is simply that what you said… the king having many enemies and you fighting his wars… made me think of that passage.”

  He came away from the window. “You did not answer my question,” he said, though not unkindly. “How do you know Beowulf?”

  “Because I have had an education in classic literature,” she said. “An old priest who taught me everything he could, everything I would learn. I not only know Beowulf, I have debated it.”

  “With whom?”

  “With the priest and with my grandfather,” she said. “I will debate it with anyone.”

  A flicker of a smile pulled at Cassius’ lips. “Even me?”

  He saw her eyes crinkle up as she smiled beneath the veil. “You are Beowulf,” she said. “You are a great warrior from the House of de Wolfe. Wulf is even in your name.”

  He chuckled. “But I do not defeat the Grendel nor dragons,” he said. “That old poem is a tribute to godless people in a godless time. But I will tell you that mayhap more of those bloodlines are in me than you realize. My mother’s father, my grandfather, is a Norse king.”

  Her eyes lit up; he could see it. “Konungr,” she said softly, using the Norse word for king. “I would believe that completely.”

  “You know the Norse language?”

  She shrugged. “As I said, the old priest schooled me on many things.”

  Cassius nodded faintly, digesting the fact that this was truly a remarkable woman. He didn’t want to give away what Darian had already told him because he didn’t think she would take too kindly knowing the man had been talking about her. Cassius thought that whatever she wanted him to know should come from her, and he realized that he wanted her to tell him.

  He wanted to know more.

  “Did he teach you how to tend the ill?” he asked, with the intention of leading into more personal subjects. “You seem to know what you are doing.”

  Dacia glanced over at the old woman and her daughter, sleeping quietly in the corner with their family around them.

  “I know enough,” she said. “The woman has a recurring fever that does not seem to completely go away. Now her daughter is showing symptoms, too. I have given them both a potion of willow bark, which will ease the fever, but I suspect it is coming from a worm or an insect of some kind.”

  “A disease?”

  “Possibly,” she said. “I do not believe it to be contagious, but it may even be in the food they eat. I do not know.”

  Cassius was studying her as she was watching her patients. By the time she turned around, she caught him looking at her and she cocked her head curiou
sly.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Embarrassed that he’d been caught staring at her, he thought he might as well be straightforward with her. He hoped they had reached some level of comfort between them, but he wasn’t entirely sure that level of comfort would be all that tolerant of what he was about to say.

  He was about to find out.

  Lifting a hand, he gestured at his own face.

  “I was just noticing your modesty panels,” he said. “You said that you always wear them?”

  Something in her eyes flickered anxiously and she lowered her gaze. “I told you that I was modest with men I do not know,” she said. “Or when I am outside of Edenthorpe for all to see. As I explained, it is my way.”

  Given everything Cassius had been told about her, he knew that was the truth. Before he made his next move, he took into account where they were – located in a tiny cottage where they were both essentially captive until the trouble at Edenthorpe was finished. If he spoke to her know about her reasons for keeping her face covered, she couldn’t run from him.

  She would have to hear him out.

  Cassius honestly didn’t know why he should even bother discussing something that wasn’t his business, but there was something inherently tragic about a beautiful young woman who thought she was ugly because of the cruelties of others. From what he had seen, Dacia was more than accomplished in many areas. She was bright and well-educated.

  And… she was beautiful.

  Perhaps if he told her his opinion, it might make a difference to her.

  Or not.

  But something was compelling him to speak.

  “I understand,” he said. “But I would like to speak plainly. May I?”

  She eyed him warily. “That depends,” she said. “If you are offensive, I shall tell you so.”

  He nodded. “And I hope you would,” he said. “But it is not my intention to offend you. I would never knowingly offend you, Lady Dacia. I swear this to you.”

  She continued to eye him. “Well, then?”

  Cassius had her attention. Knowing that, he thought hard about what he was going to say. He wasn’t sure he’d ever have another opportunity to speak his mind, so he knew he had to be careful.

  “We have only just met this day, my lady,” he said quietly. “But I wanted you to know what it honor it has been to come to know you. It is rare to find such a witty, educated young woman. You are a fine tribute to the House of de Ryes.”

  He saw her eyes widen, just a little, as if surprised he should say such a thing. “You have my thanks,” she said. “It has been an honor to meet you, as well. In spite of our introduction.”

  She looked straight to Argos, who was sleeping on his back next to the hearth. The big dog was all stretched out, soaking in the heat. Everyone else in the cottage was huddled up for warmth, but not Argos. He was living the good life, warming his belly. Cassius looked at his big, silly dog and grinned.

  “I will always thank him for introducing us,” he said, returning his attention to her. His smile faded. “I want to say something more, if I may.”

  “Proceed.”

  He did. “Earlier this evening, when Darian came into the kitchen yard to tell you of the vassals in need, I do not know if you realized it, but you removed the apron from your face as you went into the kitchens,” he said. “I saw your face without its covering and I realized that what I had said to you earlier was true. Mayhap you cover your face for modesty, and that is a well and good thing, for never in my life have I seen such beauty. That kind of beauty is not meant for the masses, my lady. It is meant only for the few and the fortunate who are privileged to glimpse upon it. Thank you for giving me such a vision. I shall never forget it.”

  He held his breath, waiting to see which direction she would go. Would she run away in outrage? Or would she realize he meant every word?

  Instead, she did the unexpected.

  “It’s not true,” she breathed. “You do not have to feed me false flattery, my lord, for I know what you say is not true.”

  The fear radiating from her was palpable and she began to tremble. Cassius could see it. “I do not lie, my lady,” he said steadily. “What I saw tonight was a woman of astonishing beauty. Has no one ever told you so?”

  She stared at him, blinking rapidly, and her trembling grew worse. “Of course not,” she finally hissed. “For it is not… I am not… it is not true.”

  “Then you are accusing me of lying?”

  He had her cornered and she stood up quickly from the stool to put some distance between them. She couldn’t run, however, as he knew, so she was forced to face this conversation, as unpleasant as it was for her.

  But the fear bristling in the air around her was static, like lightning.

  It was everywhere.

  “Sir Cassius, I know you mean well,” she said. Even her voice was trembling. “You are trying to be polite to the duke’s granddaughter, but I am not a fool so I would appreciate it if you would simply stop telling me things because you think I wish to hear them. I don’t, you know. I do not need to hear any of it.”

  Cassius sighed faintly. She was standing up, looking away from him and wringing her hands. He came away from the window and moved towards her, coming up behind her.

  It was time for total truth.

  He had a feeling this might be his only opportunity.

  “My lady,” he said softly. “’Tis not idle compliments, I assure you.”

  “Please… no more.”

  He didn’t listen to her and for good reason. If he didn’t get it all out now, he probably never would.

  He had a point to make.

  “May I tell you a story?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t about to watch her crawl through a window to get away from him. “When I first came to Edenthorpe, I was told of a young lass with a nurse who was convinced that the spots on the lass’ face were the work of the devil. Now, I do not subscribe to the devil, or demons, or witches or curses. I was told that the reason you wear veils over your face is because your nurse covered you as a child and you continue doing it as an adult to hide the freckles that your nurse called witch’s marks. When I first met you, you held the apron over your face and I asked if it was because my dog had injured you. Do you recall? You assured me that was not the case, but I will admit that I found out why you covered yourself. And not God or king could force something out of my mouth that wasn’t the absolute truth, so when I say that I saw your face and thought it beautiful, that was nothing less than complete honesty. I am a knight of the highest order. I do not deal in half-truths, lies and flattery simply for flattery’s sake. I swear this upon my oath.”

  With that, he turned around and headed back to his post next to the window. He resumed his task of peering through the shutters at Edenthorpe in the distance, but his senses were attuned to Dacia.

  He was wondering if he had made an impact.

  For the longest time, he heard nothing. No movement of any kind. Then, she slowly moved to the other side of the hearth, nearer to the sleeping family, and sat down next to the fire. He could hear the chair creak when she sat.

  She remained there for the rest of the night.

  And so did he.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “You look no worse for the wear,” Cassius said as he exited the cottage, bent over so he wouldn’t strike his head on the doorway. “I take it the enemy has fled?”

  It was dawn on the morning after the night battle at Edenthorpe and Cassius opened the door to a parade of knights. Rhori and Bose were there along with Darian and one of his junior knights, along with about one hundred heavily armed Doncaster men.

  “Of course they have fled,” Rhori said imperiously. “With the threat of a du Bois in command, they turned tail and ran like the cowards they are. Some of them are probably in Scotland by now.”

  Cassius grinned. “Good lad,” he said. “We could see the battle from here. No slight against your ability, Rhori, but it never looked
like they had a genuine chance of breaching the castle.”

  “They did not,” Darian said, dismounting his horse and pushing past Rhori. “They harried the gatehouse mostly, but the walls are too tall. Where is Lady Dacia?”

  Cassius threw a thumb over his shoulder. “In the cottage,” he said. As Darian went to check on Dacia, Cassius went over to Rhori. “I am sorry this wasn’t a true test of your command ability. I shall try to throw a more worthy enemy your way the next time.”

  By now, Bose had dismounted his steed and had joined them. Rhori slithered off his horse, holding on to the jumpy animal as he faced Cassius.

  “This enemy may be quite worthy,” Rhori said, lowering his voice. “We noticed something strange.”

  Cassius’ eyebrows lifted. “What?”

  “The yellow shield with the black lion,” Bose muttered. “Three-point shield on some of the tunics, though they tried to cover it up. Still, we were able to see them. A lion with bloody paws, Cass.”

  Cassius stared at him a moment before cocking his head in confusion. “Yellow shield with the bloody black lion?” he repeated. “Here?”

  “Here.”

  “That’s Marcil Clabecq.”

  “It is.”

  Now, Cassius’ eyes widened. “He and his men were with Edward at Falkirk,” he said. “Are you telling me that professional Flemish mercenaries were part of that attack last night?”

  Both Bose and Rhori nodded. “This may be more than simple harassment by an unhappy neighbor,” Rhori said, keeping his voice low. “Clabecq goes where the money is, so Baron Hagg must be paying him a fortune.”

  Cassius shook his head in disbelief. “I had no idea the man had that kind of money,” he said. Then he paused as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Or mayhap he does not. Mayhap Clabecq was promised part of the spoils. That would be quite an incentive.”

  Rhori nodded. “Quite,” he agreed. “The party last night rode all around the castle, stopping at the barbican, at the postern gate, and at the gatehouse, but they never really did much of anything other than ride in circles, launch a few arrows, and look around. Look around, Cass.”