The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Paris jerked the other hapless man from his horse while the third man was effectively disarmed and halted by Marc. When William glanced up from the stunned soldier, he saw that Deinwald had put himself between the mounted soldiers and the women; his face was set as William had ever seen it. The ladies, however, were well protected behind the human walls of Michael and Kieran.

  The soldier was like a turtle on his back with all of the armor he wore and William pulled the man effortlessly to his feet. The soldier was dazed and confused, but quickly straightened when William fixed him in the eye.

  “Never draw your sword in the bailey of Northwood unless you are prepared to die for the action,” his voice was like cold steel. “The women you were preparing to gore with that spear of yours is the future Countess of Teviot and her cousin.”

  “My apologies, captain, but I have just come from the enemy, and when I heard the burr….” he trailed off helplessly.

  William ignored the explanation, although he understood somewhat. “How many men would you estimate you have lost? And how many Scots were there?”

  “We carry four hundred and thirty-two men, sire,” the soldier said, weaving with fatigue. “I would guess that we had lost one hundred by the time I left with the missive. As for the Scots, ’tis hard to say. Mayhap as many as five hundred. They were everywhere, my lord.”

  William nodded, absorbing the information. Finally he turned to his gathered men. “Paris, assemble six hundred men and a full complement of wagons. Kieran, send a missive to Hawkgrove Castle and ask Earl Lowell for one hundred and fifty reinforcements for our skeleton guard here at home. Deinwald, mount the archers. If we can leave within the hour, we shall make it to The Lyceum by nightfall.” As each man was delivered his orders, he dismissed himself and was gone. “Michael and Marc, deliver the ladies to their rooms with a proper guard and then assemble with the knights in the war room. Be gone.”

  The knights and anyone else in the bailey quickly scattered to do William’s bidding. Jordan caught a glimpse of his dark head as he led the soldiers from The Lyceum away with him.

  Jordan didn’t want him fighting anyone else’s war. She needed him here, with her, safe. Her apprehensions only increased when she saw the soldiers around her moving with determination, checking weapons and strapping on armor. ’Twould be too tragic if something were to happen and…she squeezed her eyes tightly to block out that train of thought.

  Michael, holding her close to him, felt her head lay to rest on his shoulder and wondered if she were again feeling poorly.

  He insisted on depositing her directly on her bed, although she could have well walked from the antechamber. He ordered her to stay abed with gentle gruffness and ordered Jemma to support his demand. Jordan thanked him sweetly, wishing he would leave so that she could go to the window and look out for William. Marc reminded Jemma to bolt the door after they left, which she gladly did just to be rid of their hovering.

  There were three men-at-arms guarding her door, all of them older seasoned veterans, faithful to the core. Michael sternly reminded them to guard Lady Jordan with their very lives, unnecessary words but spoken for the knight’s peace of minds.

  The soldiers agreed with impatient smirks, one of them commenting that they were protecting a lady, in fact, not the damn Holy Grail. Marc told him that if protecting the Holy Grail resulted in failure, the wrath would be from God. Should protecting Lady Jordan result in failure, the wrath would be from The Wolf.

  The smirks faded and the gravity of the situation came to life. Satisfied with the proper look of obedience on the soldier’s faces, Michael and Marc left to go about their assigned duties in preparation for the rapid deployment.

  *

  William sat in the war room with de Longley, with all of his knights, and the three soldiers from The Lyceum. The earl was gravely concerned about the status of his friend Lord Harringham and gave his blessing for the show of support. In these matters it was always William who gave the commands and made the decisions; the earl’s approval was a mere formality. De Longley’s strong suit was not military operations, but rather politics. That was why he and William made such a compatible pair. William possessed the might and the intelligence to follow through, and de Longley was the cunning diplomat.

  With the majority of the urgent matters settled, William’s attention turned to Jordan. As a rule, when the army went in to battle, all of the knights rode with the troops and a mere shell of a company was left at Northwood headed by a senior man-at-arms. Generally, it was the same man, an older capable soldier named Bartholomew. He had been with de Longley longer than William had been and had proven himself quite competent when the captain and the guard were away.

  Bartholomew had been severely injured once in battle and had lost part of a hand, but that did not prevent him from maintaining a strong home-front in William’s absence, Although Bartholomew would never admit that he preferred remaining behind when the troops went on maneuver, William knew that without four fingers the old soldier felt like half a man. Therefore, he was saving face and doing him a favor when William insisted he needed him to remain behind to guard the fortress.

  The old soldier would again be left in charge of the skeleton company, but this time William wanted to leave a knight behind as well to be charged entirely with Jordan’s safety. He had yet to broach the subject and was unsure as to how it would be received.

  The soldiers from The Lyceum were rested enough to ride back with Northwood’s army. William was leaning casually against the wall by the window open to the outer bailey, listening to de Longley’s chatter. He knew the earl was concerned about his friend, but there was no time for idle talk.

  “The time is now,” William announced to his fully-armored knights. When the men stood poised, ready for the final word, William turned away from the window. “However, there is one concern remaining. I wish to leave one of my knights here to guard Lady Jordan. I will insist upon this, but I will not force anyone unless I have to. I would prefer to take a volunteer.”

  His statement was met with silence. De Longley looked at his captain, disturbed that his future bride was not even safe in her own home.

  “This is necessary, William?” he asked softly.

  “Aye, sire, it is,” he replied. “I do not relish the thought of going into battle without my full complement of knights, but Lady Jordan’s safety is of primary concern to me, as it is to you. With the majority of the knights away, ’tis possible that there might be another attempt on her life. She might not be so lucky a second time.”

  He didn’t want to have to order anyone to stay. It would be much easier all the way around if someone, anyone, volunteered. He would have gladly stayed if he could have, but it was out of the question.

  The silence was growing uncomfortable. Fearing that he was indeed going to have to issue an order and deciding who would best fill the need, William pushed himself off of the wall and opened his mouth to speak when he was cut off.

  “I shall stay.” It was Ranulf.

  William was surprised. Ranulf was his oldest knight, but certainly one of his most aggressive. The man lived for a good fight. To hear him volunteer for sitting duty was astonishing to the point of amusement. But before William could acknowledge him, he was interrupted again.

  “Nay, old man, I shall stay,” Deinwald said curtly.

  Ranulf’s bushy red mustache twitched menacingly. “I volunteered first, lad. You should have spoken sooner.”

  Deinwald tried to intimidate him by staring him down; a useless tactic. Ranulf was a master at intimidation. Kieran stepped between them.

  “I will solve this right now,” he said amiably. “I shall stay and you both can go.”

  Both Deinwald and Ranulf told Kieran to stay out of it in no uncertain terms. Their voices grew louder as they started in on each other again and William raised his hands to silence them.

  “Well, well, this is a first,” he said. “I have three knights who would rather stay here an
d read poetry than ride into battle. A strange occurrence indeed. Ranulf, since you graciously volunteered first, you may have the duty. Paris, go inform Bartholomew that Ranulf will be holed up in the castle with Lady Jordan and that he is in charge while we are gone. The rest of you, mount up. We ride.”

  The knights moved from the room, their armor banging and clanging as they walked. The soldiers from The Lyceum fell in behind and the room was quickly vacated, save de Longley, William and Ranulf. William pulled Ranulf aside.

  “I need not stress to you the importance of this, man,” he said in a low voice. “She must be kept safe. You must never leave her, even for a moment, without protection.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Ranulf agreed solemnly. “I shall protect her with my life, I swear it.”

  William clapped him on the shoulder in a rare display of affection. “I know you will,” he glanced over Ranulf’s shoulder and saw de Longley looking at them. “Get to it,” he told his knight.

  Ranulf left and de Longley moved to William. “Send word as soon as you can as to Harringham’s situation,” the earl said. “I am concerned.”

  “I will, sire,” William replied. “And I expect Earl Lowell’s men to arrive here shortly after dark this eve. Ranulf will direct their placement.”

  “Good,” de Longley nodded, but then looked hesitant. William was waiting for him to express some sort of sentiment over Lady Jordan, but instead, he let out a blustery sigh. “Adam… he is not a full knight yet, William. You will watch for him, won’t you?”

  “Aye,” William understood his lord’s concern. Adam was the only child the man had that was worth anything. “He is a good fighter, my lord. I would not take him on if he were not.”

  De Longley nodded shortly, embarrassed he had said anything at all. “Thank you, William,” he said quietly. “And thank you for thinking of Lady Jordan’s safety as well.”

  “ ’Tis my duty, my lord, and I do it to please you,” William said smoothly when what he really wanted to say was he did it because he loved her madly.

  All of his troops were assembled and waiting but William had one more item to take care of. He had to see Jordan before he left, if only for a brief second.

  *

  Jordan was sitting up in her bed when William appeared in the doorway, dressed from head to toe in full armor. From his breathing she knew he had been running and his hurried manner caused anxiety to explode in her chest. Before she could chase Jemma away, he hurried the little Scot out of the room and closed the door behind her.

  Jordan crept onto her knees, her apprehension full-blown as he turned to her.

  “Where are ye going?” she demanded. “I heard the Scots attacked another fortress. What are ye going to do?”

  “They have requested our assistance, Jordan,” he said patiently. “We are allied with them and must respond.”

  To his distress, tears welled in the pale green eyes. “I dunna want ye to go into battle,” she sniffed.

  He went to her, soothing her as much as the bulky armor would allow. He took her face between his hands and forced her to look at him.

  “This will not take long, I am sure,” he promised. “Hopefully we will be home in a day or two, three at the most. I am leaving Ranulf here in charge of you and you will obey him without question. Jemma, too, although if she obeys at all it will be a first.”

  She blinked and fat tears glistened on her lashes. “I am afraid for ye, English.”

  He kissed her forehead, her nose, listening to her ragged breathing. “I told you once that there has not been a sword made that can cut me down,” he said softly. “I shall be back, and in time for your party, too.”

  She nodded, sniffing, trying to be brave for him. He smiled and kissed her again, this time sweetly on the lips. Then he settled her back on the bed and pulled up the coverlet around her.

  “Rest now, love,” he told her. “I shall return before you know it.”

  With a wink, he turned for the door and opened it. But he paused on the threshold, turning one last time to look at her.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  She hiccupped. “And I love ye,” she said. “Be safe, my Wolf.”

  He gave her a brief nod and was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The army had been gone for four days. Four long, long days. Every day, Jordan would sit by the window watching for any sign of their return, but so far the horizon had remained green and unmoving.

  She was depressed and apprehensive. Literally trapped in her rooms, she spent her time doing needle work and Ranulf had set up her tapestry loom in one corner. She kept as busy as she could, she and Jemma spending all of their time together. But her heart ached for William.

  The earl spent a good deal of time with her, even escorting her for a walk once with Ranulf and several soldiers in tow. God help him, Ranulf had never been so nervous in his entire life and was exceedingly glad when the earl had decided Lady Jordan had had enough fresh air for one day.

  De Longley had even seen it fit to sup with her every night in her rooms, and Jordan grew to know the man little by little. She was especially interested when he spoke of news from William and the battle for The Lyceum, and was frustrated when he would give her little information and then turn from the subject.

  He was a kind man and she was beginning to like him. How such a man could have raised two vipers, she didn’t know. He did apologize for Analiese’s and Alexander’s behavior once, trying to explain it in terms she did not understand. But he did mention that his two eldest children were becoming used to the idea of Lady Jordan as the countess and he was positive they would eventually become civil to her. Jordan didn’t care; as far as she was concerned, she would be happy if they stayed away from her forever.

  The earl spoke of the party often, as planning it was taking most of his and Analiese’s time. She came to understand that many important people had been invited, and it thrilled and frightened her at the same time. He was quite eager to describe the food and the entertainment, but seemed more concerned where to lodge various English houses. It ’twould seem that some families did not get along so well with others and that caused him great concern.

  Every so often he would make reference to the absent army, most often mentioning Adam in the same breath, and Jordan was touched at his obvious concern for his son. Of course the man only had one decent offspring and it was apparent he loved the boy dearly. Jordan found herself reassuring him that Adam would be all right, that William and the other knights would see to that. He would quickly nod and change the subject, but a shadow of concern would linger on his tired face.

  This fourth day Jordan was ready to climb out the window, anything to be free of her confinement. After the first day, she had insisted that Ranulf stay inside her rooms instead of outside and keep her company, and from his vantage point in the antechamber he could see her pacing by the window in her bedchamber.

  “My lady will wear a hole in the floor,” he said to her. “Not to mention wearing out your slippers. Sit and I will read more of Homer.”

  She looked at him and, with a resigned face, went out into the antechamber. Jemma sat in the high-back chair, sewing in hand.

  “I dunna wish to hear Homer today,” she said listlessly. “I want to hear of yer battles. How many have ye seen since William has been captain?”

  Ranulf pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Too many to count, my lady. Many, many skirmishes.”

  “And how many knights have ye lost?” she asked.

  He cocked his head in recollection of the fine men that had fallen under the sword. “In the six years I have served under Sir William, we have only lost two knights,” he said. “The first was Northwood’s former captain, John Winebald. The second was a knight by the name of Alec Hage. He was Kieran’s younger brother.”

  At that, Jemma let out a small gasp but quickly stilled herself. Jordan let her gaze linger on her cousin a moment.

  “When was he struck down?” she final
ly asked.

  “Last year,” Ranulf replied. “In the same battle that so severely wounded William. In fact, nearly all of the knights suffered some sort of battle wound in that round. We were lucky we only lost one; we damn near lost two.”

  Jordan and Jemma’s eyes locked, both remembering the battle well. Especially Jordan. Yet both women were thinking the same thing; that it could have been one of their kin who cut down Kieran’s brother. Jemma’s stomach twisted painfully with the thought.

  “What was Sir Alec like?” Jemma asked quietly, going on with her sewing.

  Ranulf sighed, thinking back. “He was younger than Kieran by a few years, tall, and very blond. He and Kieran had the same sort of smile, but he was much more arrogant than his brother. He and Deinwald were the best of friends.”

  Jordan didn’t want to hear anymore of Alec Hage. She unconsciously rubbed at her arms, even though the day was very warm.

  “Will they return today?” she asked Ranulf.

  “Aye, I am sure of it,” he replied. “William sent word to de Longley that they were remaining behind to help clean up and secure The Lyceum. He also wanted to make sure the Scots would not change their mind and launch another attack after being so soundly defeated the first time.”

  She looked at Ranulf, her eyes lighting up. “They were magnificent, weren’t they?” she asked. “Fending off wave after wave, even after Earl Coe joined the attack. I almost wish I could have been there.”

  Ranulf was confident. “Aye, with The Wolf at the helm, the troops are always magnificent,” he replied, the light in her eyes not going unnoticed to him. “I would serve none other than him. ’Tis why young Adam wished to serve here at his home instead of at Beverley. He wished to serve the best.”

  Her chest swelled with pride and she turned away so he would not see the smile on her lips.