****
Galeren stood at the edge of the forest and stared out across the river Vienne which snaked its way passed Chinon and then looked beyond its banks to the château that loomed above it. He pulled up his hood as it started to rain and considered the mighty fortress. It was impenetrable; to men but not to werewolves. It was easy to doubt this after having lived in the world of men for so long. There were always boundaries and limitations, the impossible and the hopeless. Men set themselves these boundaries because they did not see things simply. Life meant struggle because anything else might lead to freedom and freedom was hard to control. Those who set the tide would crush any who challenged the premise of life and destroy their difference. This world was ruled by fear, fear of loss; loss of power, loss of possessions, loss of status. Galeren looked at the city that appeared shrunken in the shadow of the fortress and thought of all the fear within it.
“Considering our options or brooding about our potential failure,” Gerard de Villiers said lightly as he approached Galeren.
“Why do you speak of failure?” Galeren asked annoyed. “You talk like a man.”
“I am a man,” Gerard protested and then added, “among other things.”
“’Tis the other things you should concentrate on. We are neither man nor wolf but a union of both. We are supernatural and that is why there should be no possibility of failure. It is only when we forget this that we stand the chance of failure.”
“Ever deep, Galeren.” Gerard observed and folded his arms and too looked at the fortress of Chinon. “What is it that troubles you then?”
Galeren sighed, “I cannot sense my father’s presence. I think they have moved him and the other masters.”
“You think they anticipate our strike?” Gerard asked concerned.
“De Floyran would have anticipated it since Montlhéry.” He shrugged.
“You think it could be a trap?”
“This whole thing has been a trap.” Galeren paused and then said: “Nevertheless, there is no going back now. We have waited in the shadows too long and there are plenty of our brothers in Chinon, besides we may never find out where they have taken the masters if we don’t strike. If we are foiled then we will have to suffer the same fate as our brethren and Bertrand and the others will have to continue without us.” He shrugged. “I don’t believe that is going to happen. We have to have faith in our abilities.”
“Then we shall and out of the shadows we will come. When shall we attack?”
“Tonight.” Galeren said and noted Gerard’s surprised expression. “There is no advantage in waiting and no point in delaying. I want the Templars of Chinon on their way to Paris and De Floyran’s body beginning to rot by dawn. Let’s finish this and away to our futures.”
Gerard nodded, “I’ll let the others know.” He said and began to walk away. Galeren remained and watched as the greyness of the day darkened with the setting sun and the château descended into the blackness of night.
Chapter Thirty Two
The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One) Page 56
