“Prepare the army to return to Westerham but abandon the order to burn it,” he said. “For now, we will use it. Aramis, make sure Ansel of Guise is in command. Tell him to return the army, settle in, and wait for us to return.”
Aramis nodded to the command. “And when Lord Boltolph returns?”
Gaetan was resolute. “As I said – the man may coexist with our army peacefully. If he does not, Ansel has permission to do what is necessary to maintain control of Westerham.”
With a plan set, the knights seemed far more composed than they had only moments earlier. Even de Russe and de Moray were moving off together, talking between them. Tempers would flare at times between the men but, like any close family, those things were quickly forgotten.
As they moved away, Ghislaine was left crouching down over her map in the mud, realizing that Gaetan hadn’t moved away with the others. He was still standing there, probably looking at her, his mind filled with doubts about her. His presence made her vastly nervous but she also viewed it as an opportunity to convey her sorrow in the situation. He was calmer now and would, perhaps, be more apt to accept her condolences. Dropping the stick, she brushed off her hands and stood up.
“Shall I send the messenger back to Westerham?” she asked.
Gaetan’s gaze had been on his men in the distance, now moving to her. He pondered her question for a moment.
“Nay,” he replied. “I will send him back with the army. I do not need him returning before them to warn Lady Gunnora that the Normans are returning to stay.”
“Very well.” Ghislaine paused a moment, summoning the courage to say what she felt was necessary given the circumstances. “I wish I had known what Gunnora was thinking last night in regard to my brother. If I had known, I would have most certainly stopped her. But on behalf of the children of Aelfgar, I must apologize for what Alary has done. He has always had an evil streak in him, something my father saw long ago when Alary was a child. That is one reason, among many, that Alary has no lands or titles. Everything he has, Edwin has given to him because he feels pity for the man who is a bastard from his father’s loins.”
Gaetan wasn’t feeling nearly the rage he had been earlier and, in truth, he appreciated Ghislaine’s attempts at an apology. She seemed sincere about it, but he was still feeling the hurt and disappointment from the fact that she’d been told not to tell him about Alary and she had obeyed. The more he thought on that, the more he supposed that his disappointment was in the fact that she had listened to Jathan and not to her loyalty to him.
She did have loyalty to him… didn’t she?
“I was not aware that Alary was a bastard,” he finally said.
Ghislaine nodded. “My father had concubines,” she said, thinking of Gaetan’s bedslaves and finding distress in the thought. She didn’t like to reminded that he had women that were close to him. “Alary is the son of a woman my father kept company with for years. I was told by some that he loved her. When Alary was born, he insisted my mother treat him as one of the family, which was a difficult thing for her to do. It seemed that my mother had trouble conceiving more children and in an attempt to give my father another son, I was born several years later. I was not a welcome child, by either parent. Therefore, Alary and I have always had a strange bond between us. I do not love him and he does not love me, but we understand one another. We are both forgotten children of a powerful House.”
Gaetan was listening to her, perhaps more closely than he wanted to. With every day, every hour, showing him more interested in her, he was naturally curious about her background. Yet, this was not the time nor the place. Perhaps at some later date, he would know about her birth and upbringing, but not now. Now, he had a knight to rescue.
And her brother to kill.
“Then if you understand your brother so well,” he said, “tell me if he will follow through on his threat to harm Kristoph even more if he discovers we are still following him.”
Ghislaine averted her gaze when he asked the question, mostly because she knew he wasn’t going to like the answer. Already, she didn’t like it. But she knew, in her heart, that it was the truth.
“The finger is only the beginning,” she said quietly. “Alary of Mercia never says anything he does not mean. That is why it is imperative for us to stay away from him unless you want de Lohr sent back to you in pieces.”
Gaetan believed her, word for word.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dogs of War
The next five days of travel had seen Ghislaine, Gaetan, and the knights making at least twenty-five miles a day, sometimes more if the pushed the horses. They’d been making excellent time without the army to drag them down, and the war horses were hearty and well-fed. They rested every night for several hours before beginning the trek in the morning again. There was a drive behind their swift travel, something felt intently by every man – they had to make it north before Alary did to intercept him before he could make it to Tenebris.
It was the fuel that fed their fire.
Now that it was just the eleven of them, including Jathan, travel had been a different experience than it had when the army was all around them. The knights still rode in formation – men on point, men in the middle, men covering the rear, but there was more conversation. Quiet snippets of it bounced around and the travel, in general, was more relaxed but no less determined. Also of note was the fact that they rode with their shields slung over their left knees, which they hadn’t done before, and they rode in tight quarters with Ghislaine in the middle. It was a defensive formation in case they were attacked. But so far, their travel had been thankfully uneventful.
After the incident five days ago, Ghislaine was no longer riding up near Gaetan, as he remained in the front, but de Russe never left her side. He remained on her left while Wellesbourne was on her right. Even when the other men changed positions, those two remained the same. Ghislaine was coming to think that they’d been appointed her protectors or they were simply keeping an eye on her just in case she really did have something to do with tipping off her brother. She was the enemy, after all. Ghislaine kept having to remind herself of that.
But she never asked them because the men really didn’t talk to her. She was genuinely disappointed that they had taken a step or two back in their relationship. They were back to simply tolerating her again because of what happened with Gunnora and Ghislaine wasn’t sure what more she could do to change their minds. There seemed to be some debate among them as to who trusted her and who didn’t, something that left her feeling sad and uncomfortable. Now, all she could do was take comfort in the big gray dog that seemed to follow her every move.
Camulos the dog had taken a liking to her and, try as she might, she couldn’t shake the beast so she’d stopped trying. He was the only real companionship she had now. He even slept with her, a great big smelly dog who loved to cuddle, and she found herself overcoming her dislike of dogs because of it. She found it very strange that so seasoned a knight should have a dog that wasn’t a killer, but she was glad for her sake. The dog gave her camaraderie when no one else really did.
But her disappointment wasn’t only in the situation, or what had happened with Kristoph’s finger. Her most heartfelt disappointment was in the fact that Gaetan seemed removed from her now, hardly speaking to her these past few days. He would only address her if it had something to do with the road or their travel in general, but that was where it ended.
Even at the end of the day when they would stop and camp for the night, with Wellesbourne and St. Hèver building massive bonfires to keep the darkness away, Gaetan would stay clear of her as she ate with Jathan and the dog while Gaetan and his men sat around one of the big bonfires. She was so very sad that she was no longer privileged enough to sit and talk to Gaetan. She kept reflecting back to the night at Westerham when they’d included her in their drinking and revelry. It was the best night of her life.
She missed, very much, what she would no longer know.
Quiver, quiver…
Quiver….
Like anything else that wasn’t nurtured or fed, soon enough, her heart would flutter no more.
Therefore, she distracted herself as they moved along, pretending to study the land when her mind teetered on the edge of self-pity. More and more, however, her focus on the land surrounding them was occupying her time because they were entering an area known for its strange people and dark customs. Even if Gaetan didn’t want to speak to her, it was time she speak to him because they were entering an area he needed to know something about and she didn’t want to be blamed again for withholding information.
Coming off of a slight rise with a vast valley spread out below in the distance, they were quickly approaching the shadowlands.
“Jathan,” she turned to the priest. “I must speak with Gaetan. It is important. Would you ask permission?”
The priest, who had riding next to her quietly for the past few days, nodded his head and kicked the sides of his shaggy horse, forcing the animal to move faster than it wanted to. He made his way up to Gaetan at the front and Ghislaine could see the priest speaking to Gaetan and pointing back to Ghislaine. Gaetan didn’t respond, or at least she didn’t see him respond, until several moments later when Jathan finally came back to her and invited her forward. Digging her heels into the sides of her shaggy mare, she cantered forward until she came to Gaetan.
He was riding tall and proud astride his big war beast as Ghislaine came up to ride beside him, but he didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes on the road ahead.
“What is so important that you must speak with me?” he asked.
His voice sounded so unkind. Ghislaine’s heart sank and she sighed heavily, unsure how much of his coldness she could take. Her disappointment and sadness in his treatment of her was starting to turn into something else.
Resentment wasn’t far off.
“I thought you should know that we are entering the realm of the shadowlands,” she said, her manner as unfriendly as his was. “The people who live here are secretive and dark, and have been known to eat their enemies. Although there are a few abbeys here, the church has not been able to change their ways. In fact, several years ago, we heard that they ate the priests who had tried to convert them to Christ. An old name for them is the Cilternsaetan, but before that, it was something worse. They were known as caro comdenti.”
Gaetan turned to look at her, translating the Latin. “Flesh eater?”
Ghislaine nodded, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away. “I told you there was danger on this road.”
Gaetan was looking at her even when she looked away. It was a stolen look as far as he was concerned, a moment in which he could look at that angelic face and have a reason to do so. He’d spent the past two days struggling with what he was feeling for her, trying to tell himself that she was disloyal to him, an untrustworthy enemy, but what his mind told him and what his heart yearned for were two different things.
He didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t want to look at her. He’d kept himself well away from her, and she’d kept herself away from him as well. He was content. Not happy, but content. But now, here she was, and in looking at her he realized just how much he’d missed her. Something about this woman was growing on him, inside him, just like a parasite, and he couldn’t shake her no matter how hard he tried.
In fact, he was thinking more about missing her than the words she was speaking, so it took him a moment to shake off his daydreams to realize she was telling him something quite serious. He reined his horse to a stop and the entire group came to a halt behind him, but Gaetan motioned for the group to come near and they closed in around them. He gestured at Ghislaine.
“The lady has told me something about the people in this area,” he said. “The ancient name for them is caro comdenti. It seems that when she warned us of danger along this road, it includes a people who eat the flesh of their enemies.”
Everyone, especially Jathan, began looking around them with some concern. They were in a light collection of trees to the east while off to the northwest was an expanse of flat, open grass as far as the eye could see. In fact, the entire area was flat and a mighty river ran off to the west; he could see the glistening of the water now and again.
But the land looked empty of people and oddly empty of animals or birds. In fact, all was quite still, which was troubling. It was easy to get an uneasy feeling about it, especially now with what the lady had told Gaetan.
“Has Edwin had any run-ins with these people?” Téo asked. “We are in Mercia, after all. These are his lands.”
Ghislaine shook her head. “Edwin’s seat of Tamworth Castle is to the north in an area of more civilized people. He does not spend much time in this area if he can help it. Some say these lands are cursed.”
“But you suggested this road,” Gaetan pointed out. “If you knew this area was so terribly dangerous, why did you suggest it?”
Ghislaine looked at him. “Because it would have taken us much longer to reach the only other road that leads to the north,” she said. “You wanted to parallel Alary and that is exactly what we are doing, but it does not come easily. I warned you the day we left the army back at Westerham. Do you not recall?”
Gaetan did. He remembered saying something about the fact that they would be heavily armed, so he couldn’t blame Ghislaine for taking them down a dangerous path. She had, indeed, warned them. Rather than admit that, however, he simply brushed it aside.
“Is there a town or somewhere to stay the night?” he asked. “Dusk will be upon at some point and I am not entirely sure I wish to sleep in the open tonight if there are men waiting to harvest my flesh.”
Ghislaine pointed down the road, northward. “Evesham is not too far away and Worcester beyond that,” she said. “We could make it to Evesham but it would be after dark. There is an abbey there where we could seek shelter.”
Over near Gaetan, Wellesbourne snorted. “The abbey is a beacon in a sea of darkness,” he said as the knights turned in his direction. “Remember that I am from the Marches between Mercia and Wales. I have been about these lands before with my father and what she says is true. It is a cursed land but it is also our only option if we want to make north before Alary does. I would strongly suggest we make it to Evesham, as the lady has suggested, as quickly as we can. Legends and ghost stories abound in this land. Some say it is not only cursed, but haunted.”
Jathan crossed himself fearfully as the other knights looked at Wellesbourne with varied levels of amusement. “Since when did you become so superstitious,” St. Hèver wanted to know. “Ghosts do not exist.”
Wellesbourne looked at him, pointedly. “Have you ever seen one?”
Kye shook his head. “I have not. Show me one and I will believe. In fact, I’d rather like to see one.”
Wellesbourne shook his head, a gesture of regret. “If we do not make it out of this land, then you may become one. Gate, I suggest we get moving. There is no time to waste.”
There was some urgency to Wellesbourne’s statement, which spurred the other knights forward. The man didn’t show concern for no reason at all, which meant he must have, indeed, been wary about their surroundings. No one wanted to discount that. As the group began to move out, Camulos suddenly began barking.
The lazy sweet dog of their liege wasn’t one to bark, which immediately put everyone on edge. He was trotting up ahead of them, into an area that was fairly dense with trees. They could see the end of the tree line beyond where the road opened up again into fields, but in order to get to that open space, they had to pass through a thi
cket of trees that lined both sides of the road. The dog was wandering up into that sheltered area, barking at the trees.
Gaetan didn’t like that in the least. Camulos may have been a lazy, good-for-nothing dog, but he was nonetheless alert and, at times, had been an excellent warning system. Silently, he lifted a balled fist and immediately, every knight unsheathed his broadsword or at least put a hand to the hilt of their weapon. Up towards the front of their group, Denis de Winter already had l’Espada out, the metal blade gleaming in the weak light.
They were ready for a fight.
But Ghislaine was very suspicious about what was going on. The tribes around here were unorganized and rough, but they were cunning in that they used the land to their advantage. The Normans did not; heavily armed, they believed they could withstand anything because of their superior weapons and armor and tactics. They didn’t even try to hide themselves. Perhaps their superiority was true in an open battle, but in covert warfare, it might not be so effective.
Ghislaine couldn’t stand the thought of Gaetan being cut down because he fought one way while the caro comdenti fought another. He hadn’t seemed to be apt to really listen to her on this journey, instead, relying on his men or on Wellesbourne who, it seemed, hadn’t been home in almost twenty years. Times changed, as did areas and towns in that time. Gaetan and his men were entering this land like warriors on a quest when what they needed to do was be as unobtrusive as possible.
That arrogance was going to cost them if they weren’t careful.
The dog was milling around up on the road, sniffing the ground, but he’d stopped barking. He even stopped to look back at the knights behind him, men who had slowed their forward progression considerably. But Ghislaine’s warrior instincts were taking over; she had little doubt that there was someone, or something, waiting for them up in those trees. She could feel it. Men with arrows, perhaps, or axes, both of them sharp projectiles that would come sailing out at the Normans as they passed through. A glance at Gaetan and the others showed that they were ready for a fight, tensed up and prepared. They were waiting for it to come to them.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 19