The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe
Page 294
Something had happened, something serious enough so that the English were engaged on all fronts, and all Penelope could think was that it had been an ambush. The English had been invited to a wedding under the guise of peace when, in fact, the Welsh had been planning to attack them all along. That was her warrior’s instinct talking. Surely there was no other alternative.
Furious and frightened, she knew she had to make it to the fortified wagon where her possessions were, including her mail and her array of weapons. She didn’t have her broadsword but she had a myriad of other blades. Moreover, her father’s blade was more than likely in his tent, which had been guarded by her father’s personal guard, but there was no one near the tent at the moment and she ran into it, spying her father’s weaponry still in its frame. She rushed forward and grabbed the broadsword, yanking it from the frame as she bolted from the tent.
The fighting was over near the northern edge of the encampment and her wagon seemed to be in the clear. She ran to it, throwing open the heavy fortified door and climbing inside. When she shut the door, she made sure to bolt it. She didn’t want to fall victim to a Welsh surprise.
It took her a little more than a minute to throw on a pair of leather breeches, a snug undergarment that helped support her full breasts, and a heavier leather tunic. There was no time to don the heavy and cumbersome mail. The clothing she wore was part of the clothing stash her mother had denied her to wear now that she was married, carefully tucked away in the wagon. There were no available shoes for her but there was plenty of weaponry; opening up a compartment beneath one of the wagon benches, she pulled forth two daggers and a very sharp sword she had used before she had gotten her big broadsword. Collecting the weaponry, she grabbed her father’s broadsword and leapt from the wagon.
The chaos in the bailey had grown. She ran through groups of men, dodging through them with a big dagger in her hand. One man made a swipe at her and she planted her blade into his hand, listening to him howl. By the time she reached the great hall, there was a fire in one of the corners, creeping up the waddle and daub wall. Penelope looked at it with some horror; she knew that once it reached the thatched roof, it would spread very quickly. Therefore, her mission was to find her parents and get them out of the hall. Dagger in hand, she plunged into the fight.
Penelope engaged more men than she had expected to as she pushed through the room. One man received a slash to his face while the other received a stab to his arm. She could hear her father bellowing and she found him over near the feasting tables where all of the English had been sitting. Food was on the floor, drinks were spilled, and it was a general mess. William still had the unfamiliar broadsword and she raced in his direction.
“Papa!” she yelled. “Papa, your sword!”
William heard Penelope’s voice and, distracted, his gaze searched her out as she pushed through the battle. She was slashing and kicking all the way, a very tough young woman who was unafraid of a fight. He called to Jordan and Jemma, who were underneath the table with Tacey. The pregnant young woman was weeping hysterically as the turmoil went on around her.
“Penny is here!” he bellowed. “Jordan, go with her! Let her take you out of here!”
Penelope arrived and leapt onto the table, handing her father his beloved broadsword. Now, fully armed with his familiar weapon, William could do serious damage. He yelled to Paris, who was several feet away and doing battle with the only thing he had on him, a dirk. When Paris took his eyes off his opponent to look at William, the man tossed the confiscated broadsword to him. Now Paris was properly armed and his opponent went down quickly.
“Penny!” William commanded. “Remove your mother and aunt out of here!”
Penelope was battling with a soldier who had come at her. She sliced him in the chest with her dagger and kicked him in the face to send him to the ground.
“I cannot!” she said, kicking another man who came at her. “There are too many of them to fight off between here and the entry!”
William had to admit she might be correct; there was a sea of battling men and, for the moment, the women were safe underneath the table. But only for the moment; he could see Paris and Kieran fighting for their lives while Scott, Troy, and Patrick were beating down several Welshmen. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the table was compromised as well. His sons Thomas and Edward were also in mortal combat while Kevin and Apollo seemed to have their men under control. At least, that was what William thought until he saw Kevin gored through the torso by a Welshman who came up behind him. As he watched, Kevin fell to his knees and Patrick, close by, rushed to assist him. The situation was going from bad to worse.
“Where is your husband?” William bellowed.
Penelope looked around the room but couldn’t see Bhrodi through the chaos. “I do not know!” she called back. “He was here a moment ago!”
As William and Penelope stood on the table and fought off the onslaught, Paris and Scott leapt onto the table as well. It was high ground and easier to fight from there. Meanwhile, Patrick was dragging Kevin across the floor towards them, fighting off a huge offensive of Welsh until Troy and Thomas and Edward rushed to help him. Penelope hadn’t seen Kevin fall and by the time he was dragged over and shoved under the table where his mother and aunt were hiding, she was horrified. The man had left a trail of blood behind him. Furious, she went mad and began chopping and stabbing at anything that moved. Damn the Welsh!
William knew they were outnumbered and he, too, believed what his daughter did, that this was an ambush orchestrated by de Shera. He was sickened by it, having led his entire family into a trap. As Troy leapt up beside him to aid his father in fighting away the rabble, Bhrodi suddenly appeared in the hall entry with a gang of men behind him. He was seriously armed for battle and William thought that lives would soon be over. He was sure the man was coming for them. However, Bhrodi did something unexpected; rushing in to the burning room, he and his men began beating down the Welsh contingent.
William saw what was happening; it was clear that de Shera was trying to protect the English, or at least trying to help them. He and his men were tossing people aside and killing others, and they carved through the chaos of the room as they headed for the English now largely isolated on top of a big feasting table. As Bhrodi drew near, he began waving at them.
“Come on!” he bellowed. “You must get out of here! The place will burn down around you!”
William didn’t need to be told twice; he had no choice but to trust de Shera as he leapt off the table and reached underneath to grab his wife, who in turn grabbed Tacey. Paris and Kieran were moving also, dragging Jemma and the wounded Kevin from beneath the table. Between Kieran and Patrick, they managed to carry Kevin out of the hall and, along with the rest of the English, found their way to the keep under Bhrodi’s protection.
There was a sense of panic as they fled the hall. Bhrodi and his teulu herded the Saesnegs into the massive D-shaped keep of Rhydilian, away from the pandemonium that was growing worse. When the Welsh attempted to follow, Bhrodi’s men beat them back, allowing the English time to escape. The keep loomed ahead through the misty night, promising safety. The English fled up the stairs into the second floor entry and the last people up the stairs were Penelope and her father, followed by Bhrodi and several of his men. As the English rushed into the smaller hall directly across from the entry, Bhrodi slammed the massive entry door and bolted it.
The sudden silence and stillness of the keep was somewhat overwhelming. From the midst of such bedlam and into the heart of silence caused them all to pause a moment to regroup. No one could really believe what had happened. Breathing heavily, Bhrodi leaned against the door, looking to his men surrounding him; Ivor, Ianto, Gwyllim, and Yestin were all panting with exertion. It was clear that they, too, were startled at what had gone on. They all looked at each other with varied degrees of astonishment and anger.
“What in the hell happened?” Bhrodi demanded. “When I left, everyth
ing was peaceful. What went on?”
Ianto, with a cut on his chin, sighed heavily as he tried to catch his breath. “I do not know for certain,” he said. “One moment, we were speaking with Tudur and in the next, Lon ap Ganol gave a cry and his men produced weapons. They went after de Wolfe and his men.”
Bhrodi could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Tudur and Lon attacked them?” he hissed. “Are you sure?”
Ianto nodded, wiping at the blood on his chin. “That is when I sent Gwyllim for you,” he said. “I knew something terrible was happening.”
Terrible, indeed. The rest of the teulu, at least the ones Bhrodi could gather for his rescue mission into the great hall, were spread out around the entry. Some had filtered into the solar, and nearly all of them had cuts and bruises of some kind. It had been a terrible night for them all. Now that he had some information as to what had happened, Bhrodi pushed himself off of the door and headed into the hall to see how badly the English had fared. He didn’t relish facing them.
It didn’t look good; one of the English knights was lying on the floor while Lady Jemma and another knight worked on him, trying to stop the bleeding in his gut. The rest of the group had cuts or were generally roughed up; one of de Wolfe’s younger sons was sporting a great wound to the arm.
As Bhrodi walked into the room to see what assistance he could offer, Penelope was suddenly in front of him. She threw a punch which, had it made contact, would have probably knocked out a tooth. As it was, Bhrodi grabbed her by the wrist, that tender and sweet wrist he had kissed so sweetly not an hour before. Looking into her angry face, it was like seeing an entirely different woman.
“You bastard,” she hissed. “Is this what you planned all along? An ambush?”
William was beside her, trying to pull her away from her husband. “Calm yourself, Pen,” he said quietly, but when he turned to Bhrodi, his expression was anything but quiet. There was mortal fury behind it. “I will give you the opportunity to explain yourself.”
Bhrodi knew how bad this all looked and struggled not to sound as if he was pleading. “I had no knowledge of this, I swear it,” he said to both William and Penelope. “Do you seriously believe I would have planned this attack? If I’d wanted to kill you, I would not have saved you from the beast of the marsh. I would have let it destroy you. Whatever happened in the hall was not of my doing but I vow upon my honor that I will find out who is behind it.”
William believed him for two reasons; he did indeed save them from the marsh beast and he had rushed them to safety from the chaotic hall. A man trying to kill them would not have done those things. But before he could reply, Kieran came up beside him and punched Bhrodi in the jaw so hard that the man went stumbling. William grabbed hold of Kieran to prevent him from going in for the kill, but Kieran, the usually cool and consummate knight, was uncharacteristically out of control. He was wild with grief.
“I should kill you,” Kieran growled. “Look what your wedding has done to my son. Look at him!”
Bhrodi was still on his feet but his head was spinning; the old knight had delivered a devastating blow. Hand to his jaw, he looked to the knight on the ground as Jemma cradled his head and wept, and Paris worked furiously to save him. He went to them.
“What do you need?” he asked Paris. “I have a surgeon. I will send for him immediately.”
Paris had the blood flow stopped but Kevin was in a bad way. He had been gored just underneath his ribcage on the left side of his body and had lost a lot of blood. Paris, an excellent healer, glanced up at Bhrodi. His expression was serious.
“Send for him,” he said. “I need gut to sew this wound with. I also need medicaments that your surgeon should have. Send him to me now.”
Bhrodi nodded, snapping orders to Yestin, who went on the run. Since the entry door was bolted, he and Ianto went to a smaller trap door in the corner of the hall that led to the storage level below. That level also had a well-fortified door that led to the bailey on the west side. As his men left the room, Bhrodi returned his attention to the thrashed English.
“I can do nothing more than apologize for what has happened but please know that I had no hand in it,” he said so that everyone could hear him. “My intention since the moment you arrived has been that of an alliance, but it is clear some of my vassals do not share that opinion.”
William was still holding on to Kieran. “We will be leaving here on the morrow and I do not wish to fight my way out of Wales,” he said. “Moreover, it looks as if I will be traveling with wounded. I will make a prime target.”
Bhrodi shook his head. “I will send an escort with you to see you safely out of Wales,” he said. “You needn’t worry over you safety. No one would dare attack a convoy under my protection.”
William’s brow furrowed. “We were attacked in your hall,” he pointed out. “Clearly, there are those who would attack us regardless of whether or not we are under your protection.”
He was correct and Bhrodi was starting to fume; not only had his vassals attacked the English that were here peacefully, but they had betrayed him as well. He could not have men under his command who would act with such treachery. Men like that would do it again given the opportunity. He had been shamed in front of men he was attempting to seal a treaty with but more than that, he had been shamed in front of his new wife, a woman he truly hoped to cement an amiable relationship with. There was much at stake at the moment, more than simply an attack against the English. The fury within him, The Serpent of legend, was beginning to rise.
“Those who are responsible for this will pay,” he said, his tone low and threatening. “You will remain here for the night; you are welcome to sleep in the upper chambers, for I will not be retiring. At the moment, mayhap Lady de Wolfe will be kind enough to take my sister to bed. She should rest.”
Jordan, pale and shaken, was holding Tacey’s hand. She had been ever since they made their mad dash from the hall. When Bhrodi made his polite request, Jordan nodded unsteadily and led the girl away. Bhrodi watched them go, thankful that his sister was unharmed and thankful for Jordan’s mothering. He’d never seen his sister so happy as he had tonight. In fact, they had all been happy and, God only knew, it had been a very long time since they had all known such joy. For it to end so terribly filled him with a deep and burning rage.
Penelope, standing next to her father, deliberately turned away when Bhrodi finally turned to look at her. She was too angry and confused and terrified to meet his gaze at the moment. Bhrodi, sensing she wanted nothing to do with him, would not give in to her displeasure. He had to take control if there was any hope of salvaging the relationship. She was a strong woman, and a wise one, but he was stronger and wiser. He had to show her that. Moving to her, he took her by the arm.
“I would speak with you for a moment,” he said quietly.
But Penelope wanted no part of him. She yanked her arm away savagely but he grabbed her again, this time throwing her over one broad shoulder. She squirmed and beat on him as he carried her away, going so far as to try and hit him on the head. Bhrodi, with his twisting and fighting wife slung over his shoulder, smacked her hard on the bottom to still her. Penelope screeched and stopped fighting purely out of shock. When she started up again, he smacked her once more and she stopped completely because his big hand stung. Her arse was already sore. When he took her into a small alcove near the door that led down into the storage area, he put her on her feet.
Penelope was in no mood to listen but Bhrodi blocked her when she tried to get away. In fact, he threw his arms around her and trapped her against his enormous chest. Frustrated, pinned, Penelope refused to look him in the eye. She could feel his hot breath on the side of her face as he looked down at her.
“I know you are irate and bewildered,” he murmured. “In truth, I am also. But I swear to you that I knew nothing about this and I apologize profusely for the occurrence. I want you to know that I will discover the truth behind this event. This I vow.”
“My parents could have been killed,” she hissed. “We all could have been killed. Kevin is lying out there terribly wounded and my brother Thomas has an awful gash to his arm. Do you have so little control over your vassals that they would violate the peaceful nature of a wedding?”
He sighed faintly. “Will you look at me, please?”
She held out for a few seconds before, very slowly, turning to him. Her hazel eyes met with his deep green and those invisible fingers she was becoming so familiar with were reaching out to her once again, caressing her, reminding her of his touch. She vividly recalled his lips on hers, his body against hers, and her cheeks began to flame. So many memories of him tumbled upon her all at once.
Bhrodi gazed into her lovely eyes and he could see the defiance slip away. His grip on her loosened and his hands began to caress her. He simply couldn’t help himself.
“The chieftains who came here tonight have betrayed me,” he muttered. “For my sake and mine alone, I will deal with them appropriately. Do not think that this will go unpunished. I swear to you that I will do what is necessary to keep firm my command of my men and vassals. Do you believe me?”
She did; there was something in the way he said it that made her believe him completely. Much like her father, Bhrodi had an intensity about him that was undeniable, an intensity that conveyed absolute control.
“What will you do?” she asked.
“It will be sufficient, whatever it is.”
It was a kind way of telling her that it was not her business and she didn’t press him, although it was difficult. She was naturally curious, and nosy, as her father called her. With a heavy sigh, she simply nodded her head and lowered her gaze, and he released her completely. But his eyes never left her.