WolfeSword: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  It was the pity Amata had needed. She pretended to be quite heartbroken. “The knight and I were talking of marriage, but not any longer,” she said. “I would not be surprised if Dacia married the man. Little does he know what an awful person she is. Why… why, her own maid has told me such tales of her. Such tales! She told me that Dacia gave birth to a baby last year and buried it in the garden. A poor bastard baby!”

  “Oh!” Eloise gasped, hand to her mouth. “Do the priests at St. George’s know this?”

  Amata shook her head. “If they do, they will not speak of it,” she said. “The duke is a powerful man. He probably paid them to pray for Dacia’s black soul. So you mustn’t say a word, Eloise. Promise me.”

  Eloise shook her head. “I will not, I promise,” she said, but it was a lie and they both knew it. “Poor Amata. Why not come inside and have some warmed wine? It has been a long time since we last saw one another and we can have a nice, long visit.”

  Amata gladly followed Eloise inside, where the rear portion of the stall was the family home. Eloise’s mother and grandmother were there, welcoming Amata graciously, and the four of them sat down to warmed wine and bread with cheese. It was a lovely visit, but one in which Eloise forgot her promise and told her mother and grandmother about Dacia’s terrible behavior while Amata played the wounded cousin throughout the entire thing.

  But inside, she was smiling.

  It wasn’t long before that bit of gossip went flying around Doncaster, from ear to ear, finally reaching the priests at St. George’s. It was a morbidly glorious bit of rumor mongering, with Dacia of Doncaster at the center of it thanks to her liar of a cousin.

  Dacia may have had the last slap, but Amata would have the last laugh.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Three long days…

  That was how long Cassius had slept. Dacia knew it was only sleep because he would wake if she roused him, but he had slept like the dead for two long days. She woke him periodically to force him to drink a small cup of boiled, salted water because she knew that the human body was comprised of fluids and if he didn’t have enough, his body would take longer to heal. She was also giving him a poppy potion for the pain, which contributed to his heavy sleep.

  The poultices and the bandages on the wounds were changed regularly. There was a dousing with wine and a poultice of chamomile, repeated several times during the night and day. The wounds seemed to be doing well enough, which was good news, and Cassius had not developed a fever.

  Dacia said prayers hourly for that very critical blessing.

  No fever, no poison, and Cassius had a good chance of recovering completely.

  Rhori and Bose were regular visitors to the sick room, as well. It was Rhori who would sit with Cassius while Dacia slept for a few hours, but the truth was that she was seriously sleep deprived because she didn’t want to leave him. Sometimes, it took both Edie and Rhori to convince her that it would be okay for her to leave him for a short while. She would go to her chamber, fall asleep for a couple of hours, and then rush back to Cassius.

  It had become a regular cycle.

  On the morning of the third day, Dacia was sitting at Cassius’ bedside, reading a book from the faraway, mysterious kingdom of Harsha. The book was written in their mysterious language but, at some point over the centuries, someone had translated it into French, which Dacia could understand. It wasn’t a book of treatises or recipes, but more of a religious book, something that she was certain the priests of St. George’s would not approve of. As the fire in the hearth snapped softly, she continued to read, noting that the sky outside was becoming lighter as a new day dawned.

  Edie slipped into the chamber, bringing food and tending to the hearth. She put a big pot of porridge over the flame, bringing honey and butter, bread and warmed wine for Dacia to eat when she grew hungry. The problem was that Dacia wasn’t eating much at all and often let Argos have her food. The previous night, Rhori and Bose had brought their meals into the chamber to eat with her, gently forcing her to eat with them so they would not be ashamed to eat in front of her. They coerced her to eat a full meal that way and Dacia was touched that they would be so concerned for her. Until she’d met Cassius, she’d never had anyone show such concern in her entire life.

  Now, his knights were doing it, too.

  When Edie brought the food this morning, Argos came out from his position under the bed and immediately turned eager eyes to the food being set out. Exasperated, Edie lured the dog out of the chamber with buttered bread, promising to take him to the kitchen and feed him a decent meal. That left Dacia as the only partaker of the food left behind but, true to form, she didn’t touch it.

  She was more interested in her book, and in Cassius, unable to relax enough even to eat.

  The morning progressed. Dacia could hear men out in the bailey, going about their duties, and the occasional neigh of a horse. There were birds all around the keep because they had made their nests high in the eaves. She could hear them tweeting, feeding their newly hatched babies because spring was here. In fact, everything seemed to indicate a fine spring day. She would have thought so, too, had Cassius not been laying in a bed, recovering from battle wounds.

  The morning continued towards noon. Dacia was still reading her book, now listening to Cassius as the man began to snore. He was breathing heavily now and she put her book aside, standing up to go to the bed and put her hand on his forehead, something she did twenty times a day. Only this time, it was different.

  He was hot.

  Her heart sank.

  Quickly, she went to her medicament bag, pouring a little white willow powder into some wine. White willow was known to fight fevers. After three days, Emmeric the physic had not yet been located, so Dacia was having to rely entirely on her knowledge and what ingredients she had with her. Though she was confident in her knowledge, she was hoping they would be able to find the physic at some point, especially if Cassius was going to run a fever. She didn’t want to do this all on her own if his condition grew more serious.

  Mixing the powder with her finger, she went to Cassius, gently rousing the man.

  “Cassius?” she said softly. “Cassius, please awaken.”

  He snored a few moments longer before abruptly falling silent. Dacia shook him again.

  “Please, Cassius,” she said. “Wake up and look at me.”

  He remained still, his eyes closed. But then, his head turned in her direction. “I will gladly look at you, my angel,” he mumbled, though his eyes were still closed. “What is amiss?”

  Dacia sat on the bed next to him, putting her arm behind his neck. “I need you to sit up a little and drink this.”

  His eyes lolled open but he was having a difficult time staying awake. Still, he did as she asked, weakly lifting his head as she helped him and draining the wine cup. Carefully, Dacia lay him back down.

  “Good,” she said. “I am sorry to have awoken you. Go back to sleep.”

  She tried to move away but his hand shot up, grasping her wrist. “Nay,” he muttered. “Do not move away. Stay here with me.”

  She set the cup aside but remained on the bed. His hand moved to hers and he grasped it, bringing it to his lips and kissing it sweetly. “Sweet Dacia,” he slurred, his eyes finally closing. “What would I do without you?”

  Dacia smiled in spite of herself. “You would be in the hands of someone not as competent as I am,” she said. “Consider yourself fortunate.”

  He grinned, dimples carving through his unshaved cheeks. “I consider myself the most fortunate man in England,” he said. “How am I faring?”

  Her smile faded, just a little. “As well as can be expected,” she said, not mentioning the hint of a fever. “The arrows didn’t strike anything vital and I was able to clean out the wounds and stitch them up. Barring anything terrible, you should recover.”

  He kissed her hand again. “Sweet girl,” he said, laying his cheek against her palm. “You have my unending gratitude.” />
  He was rather adorable in his sleepy, slurring state. Dacia could have quickly become accustomed to his touch as he held his face against her hand. There was something so comforting and intimate about it, something she’d never experienced before. She’d never been close enough to a man not her father or grandfather to be hugged or touched in any way, and she knew that she liked it. Very much.

  His touch was magic.

  “And you have my undying gratitude for riding off to save the village from the raiders,” she said. “You did not have to go. You could have very well remained in the hall and let the Doncaster men go forth, but you did not. You risked yourself for us. The least I can do is tend to your wounds.”

  His eyes rolled open again and he looked up at her, the pale eyes studying her. “Be under no false impression,” he said. “I risked my life for you and no one else. Those bastards weren’t going to come anywhere near my sweet angel.”

  Dacia flushed furiously. “I think I must have given you too much of my potion,” she said. “You are being silly now.”

  He shook his head, slightly. “Not at all,” he said. “I am quite within my right mind. Dacia, will you do something for me?”

  “Anything.”

  “Kiss me.”

  Her eyes widened. “K-Kiss you?” she stammered. “Now?”

  “Now.” When she hesitated, off guard by his bold request, he sighed heavily. “I am dying right before your eyes and you will deny me a simple kiss? How can you be so cruel? I would have done better had I asked my dog to kiss me.”

  He said it so dramatically that she knew he was jesting, but she still wasn’t over his request. It was titillating, wildly exciting, and wildly intimidating all at the same time. Fighting off a smile, she started to look around.

  “That can be arranged,” she said. “Argos has been under your bed nearly the entire time. I will happily put him next to you so he can kiss you to your heart’s content.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  Their eyes met and Dacia knew she was going to honor his request no matter how much she was pretending to debate it. He smiled at her, lifting a weak finger to teasingly poke her nose. That freckled nose she’d always been so ashamed of, but something he found beautiful. The next thing she realized, she was kissing his bearded cheek.

  But that wasn’t enough for Cassius.

  He turned his head, his lips latching on to hers, and that weak hand holding her head had surprising strength. His hand was so big that it encompassed more than half her head, holding her fast to him. It was a sweet, delicious, and alluring kiss, and just when he shifted himself so he could embrace her with his good arm, he torqued his torso and the wound in his gut pained him greatly. He grunted and the momentum of their kiss was shattered.

  “Did you hurt yourself?” Dacia asked, leaping off the bed to get a look at the bandages around his midsection. “This is my fault. I should have let the dog kiss you.”

  Cassius had been wincing from the pain, but he suddenly started laughing. Dacia was trying not to laugh as she checked the bandages, making sure he hadn’t torn anything. She was bent over, peering at the edges of the bandage, when there was a soft knock on the door and Rhori entered.

  “Cass,” he said with surprise. “You’re awake!”

  Cassius nodded faintly, his good arm up over his eyes and somewhat thankful for his knight’s sense of timing. Any earlier, and there would have been some explaining to do.

  “Aye,” he said. “For a short time, anyway.”

  Rhori came over to stand next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  Cassius grunted. “Well enough until I moved too much and strained my wound,” he said. “Lady Dacia is making sure I did not ruin her good work.”

  Rhori stood back as Dacia evidently felt the need to rebandage the wound on the torso. He watched her for a moment as she moved around.

  “Her work is excellent,” he said, returning his attention to Cassius. “She has hardly left your side the entire time. We have tried to force her to sleep, but she has been reluctant to leave you at all. I have never seen such a devoted nurse.”

  Cassius’ eyes opened and he looked at Dacia, bent over his belly. He could tell that she had heard Rhori’s words because her cheeks were flushing red. Before he could reply, Dacia spoke up.

  “It is because it is my grandfather’s fault that Cassius was wounded at all,” she said. “Had my grandfather not been so demanding to insist that the king’s knights fight Doncaster’s war, none of this would have happened. I have much to atone for.”

  Rhori seemed pleased with her answer, but Cassius wasn’t. There was something cold and unemotional about a woman tending a wounded man purely out of guilt. In fact, he didn’t even reply to it. His attention moved to Rhori.

  “What happened after I left?” he asked.

  Rhori cocked his head thoughtfully. “We killed many of them,” he said. “Call it what you will, but your injury spurred the men into a sort of revenge. Clabecq’s mercenary force is in ruins. I would say no more than thirty or forty escaped with their lives.”

  “What about the wounded?”

  “We left no wounded.”

  Cassius was rather pleased to hear that. “Good,” he said. “And Marcil himself?”

  “Dead,” Rhori said. “I saw the body myself, dragged into the field next to the church.”

  “Did the church hold?”

  “Aye. De Lohr did an excellent job of it.”

  Cassius sighed, relieved. “That is good to hear,” he said. “So the mercenaries ended up buried at the very church they tried to raid, did they?”

  Rhori nodded. “In a sense,” he said. “Doncaster went to the church himself to speak to the priests about the burial, in fact, but the priests do not wish to bury them in the churchyard, so they are burying them in the field next to it.”

  “I see,” Cassius said, rubbing his eyes wearily. “What about Hagg? Has there been any word from him?”

  Rhori shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “De Lohr sent a scouting party to Hagg’s property yesterday and they returned to tell us that everything was burned to the ground. There is nothing, and no one, left.”

  Cassius’ eyebrows lifted curiously. “So the mercenaries burned Hagg to the ground and then went to work on the village,” he said. “Interesting. I wonder why? Mayhap Hagg refused to pay them and they went on a rampage.”

  “That is as good an explanation as any,” Rhori said. “Doncaster wants to ride out there later today to look it over and de Lohr is planning to take him.”

  Cassius took on a pensive expression. “He seems to be taking an active role in all of this. Strange for a man who seemed so reluctant for any kind of military activity.”

  Rhori shrugged. “He has expressed his gratitude to Bose and me,” he said. “He is thankful for our assistance. In fact, he sent a missive to Edward about your injury and to thank the man for your sacrifice. I sent a missive to your family so they know what happened and why your visit will be delayed.”

  Cassius grunted. “That is good,” he said. “Because I plan to send a missive to Edward asking to extend my time away because of this. My plans have not exactly been adhered to, but I do not intend to abandon them entirely. I was supposed to be nearing Castle Questing by now.”

  “You will at some point,” Rhori said. “I do not expect to see you down for much longer. But until such time as you are on your feet, do you have any instructions for me?”

  Cassius thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Nay,” he said. “Nothing at this time. But assure everyone that I am on my way to recovery.”

  Rhori nodded, quitting the chamber and shutting the door quietly. When he was gone, Cassius looked down at Dacia, still fussing with his bandages.

  Thoughts shifted from his family and the king to Dacia. I have never seen a more devoted nurse. It did Cassius’ heart good to hear that. Certainly, he’d had many women show attention and devotion to him, and it had fed his pride.
Cassius de Wolfe drew women like bees to honey, and he’d been arrogant because of that fact. But Dacia’s devotion fed something else inside of him, something he’d kept buried. A true and genuine heart he’d spent his lifetime protecting from his big ego and overzealous females.

  This was different.

  “Did I ruin your careful work?” he asked softly.

  His voice was soft and warm, something Dacia wasn’t immune to. “Nay,” she said. “The stitches are still intact. I am simply fixing the bindings.”

  He watched her focus on his wrappings, the way her dark lashes fanned out over her cheek when she blinked. At one point, she bit her lip in concentration and her dimples carved deep ruts into her cheeks. For a woman with many alluring qualities about her, he thought those dimples were just about the most alluring thing he’d ever seen.

  “Is it true, then?” he asked.

  She was still fussing. “Is what true?”

  “That you are only tending me out of guilt?”

  She stopped fussing and her head came up. “Who told you that?”

  His pale eyes were glittering at her. “You did,” he said. “You said you have much to atone for because your grandfather was the reason I was injured.”

  She blinked in surprise as he repeated her own words back to her. “I do not feel any guilt,” she said. “I simply meant that I feel as if I need to make things right with you. My grandfather had no business asking you and your men to fight his war for him. He was wrong and I told him so.”

  The corners of his mouth tugged with a smile. “Ever my champion, are you?”

  She stood up, looking at him full-on. “Cassius, you have been kinder to me than anyone has ever been in my life,” she said. “I will champion you until the day I die. There is nothing I would not do for you.”

  His smile broke free, spreading across his face. He held out his right hand to her and she stared at him a moment as if not understanding his meaning. But after a moment, it occurred to her what he wanted, and she put her hand in his. He pulled her closer, lifting her hand to his lips again and kissing her fingers softly.