Red Rider Redemption (The Red Rider Saga Book 3)

by D. A. Randall

  “When you finally returned, I no longer needed you,” I said. “I needed you before. I’m sorry, Father Vestille. I’m glad for your help, for everything you’ve done for me the last few months. I wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t broken that curse and bailed me out today. But I still find it hard to rely on you after you ran off to meet with other people in other provinces, to find someplace safer to start a church. I know you’re here fighting for me now, but I need to know if you’ll always be here, or if you’ll run off again, the next time the Lycanthru attack.”

  “That’s not why I visited other provinces.”

  “Then tell me why. What was so urgent, after a wolf tried to kill me, that you had to leave? To separate yourself from our insignificant little family? What were you looking for?”

  He gave a heavy sigh. “I was looking for the Lycanthru.”

  All the air seeped from my spirit. A heavy silence hung in the tiny vestibule. “… what?”

  He half-chuckled. “Naturally, I – I didn’t know that’s what I was looking for when I started. I simply – I had to know more about the wolf. I had heard of other attacks in other villages. Mere rumors. But after I saw the body of the wolf that killed your Grand’Mere, Marie Justine, I had to know what was happening. Something about that creature – it wasn’t natural. It wasn’t simply an oversized wolf. There was something strange about it. Something evil. It had the same shocked eyes I had seen on men and women who died suddenly. I never saw an animal with such animated features. Almost human. And the way you spoke about the attack, saying the wolf stood and spoke and swiped at you. The way a man would attack.” He shook his head. “It unsettled me. I knew your parents would care for you. I wanted to be here for all of you as well. But I had to find out the cause of this. Who else but me could have done that? Who else would recognize true evil, lying there on the floor, and do something about it?”

  I gaped at him. “You never told us.”

  “I never told anyone. How could I? How could I say these creatures were some sort of demons, until I learned more about them? I had to be certain. So I traveled to places where other bizarre wolf attacks had been reported. Gevaudan, Normandy, my former home in Burgundy. I spoke to people in churches, yes, and in villages, asking about their community and lifestyle. This allowed me to ask about safety in their province and any dangers they feared. Which helped me discover stories about the wolves. I met people who actually witnessed these creatures. Later I met with other priests and scholars who informed me of the Lycanthru cult. The more I inquired, the more I became convinced the Lycanthru were here in La Rue Sauvage. But I had no proof. Not until you saw them yourself, and survived.”

  My heart felt like it had dropped to the ground. “You never said a word. You did all that – let everyone believe you were pursuing other positions – You did all that for us.”

  He sat heavily on a stool beneath the coat rack, as if weighted down by his secret. “If I revealed my true purpose, no one in the other provinces would have spoken to me. And everyone here would have panicked. Over rumors.”

  He rested his head back against the wall. “But after they killed Henri – your father – I realized I was wrong. I wanted to continue learning about the Lycanthru. What they were up to, who they were. I had promised to do so. But in the end – it had cost me my best friend. I couldn’t bear to lose any more of your family over it. I would gladly have remained ignorant of the Lycanthru and all their activities, in exchange for a few more months with your father.”

  I swallowed back shame. He had never abandoned us. He had been fighting for us all this time, unrecognized. “You did what you knew you had to do. Even though no one understood it. Just like me.”

  His eyes burrowed into the floor. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  I moved to kneel beside him. “Father Vestille, I’m sorry for what I said. For everything. Can you forgive me?”

  His entire face showed his brokenness. “If you can forgive me.”

  I threw my arms around him. He closed the embrace. Suddenly – strangely – it felt as though I had received my family back.

  I finally pulled away, smearing tears from my face as I stood. “Father Vestille, when this is all over and I can return home, I’ll come see you. Every week. Or you can visit me, whenever you want.”

  “I would like that, Helena.” His face hardened. “But for now, we both have work to do. I’ll trust the Lord to use you to do His work. Can you do the same?”

  I nodded.

  “Then kneel.”

  I stared at him, astonished. Did he mean what I thought he meant? After all his fears about the dangerous person I might become?

  Whatever he intended, there seemed little point in arguing with a priest. Especially one that had just saved my life twice in one week. I knelt.

  He stood and walked to an end table beside the door, taking a small flask from it, then returned to stand before me. He poured the flask into his palm. It smelled of thick oil and incense.

  He spoke something in Latin as he smeared the oil on my forehead with two fingers, forming the sign of the cross, and spoke.

  “Thus I ordain and commission you to do the work for which Almighty God has anointed you, to protect our village and our people, our workers and our children, to preserve our present and future, and eradicate the demons that seek to devour us. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I bless you and anoint you for this holy calling.”

  A strange sensation filled me like fire from inside. It surged through my nerves until I expected my hairs to stand up on end. I had felt this power before, at times when I hunted and when I fought the wolves. I never considered it could be the Lord’s power working through me. Especially when all of my actions seemed so bizarre, even to me.

  The surging feeling diminished slowly, leaving me speechless. Father Vestille had not only forgiven me, but he had appointed me for divine service. His anointing empowered me with a new strength and confidence, beyond anything I had felt before. I stood shakily. He seized my arms and helped steady me.

  “Thank you,” I said, swiping away a tear.

  “I have prayed every night for your safety, and for your soul,” he said. “From now on, I will also pray for your success.” He crossed himself and waved another blessing over me. “Whatever you need, tell me. I’ll do whatever I can. Just be careful.” He turned and grabbed my hooded cloak, holding it up with a smile. “Don’t forget this.”

  20.

  Crimson pounded through the cool forest, trampling over twigs and branches, seeming as anxious as I was to stop Laurent. For three days, I lay paralyzed at Father Vestille’s hovel, too delirious to focus or even wake from my living nightmares. Father Vestille had freed me, but only long enough for me to spend a night in jail before he had to free me again. But now, with Laurent’s curse broken and Father Vestille’s anointing still tingling my senses, I felt stronger than ever. More than ready to handle Laurent and the Lycanthru, with plenty of bolts left from Pierre’s last supply.

  I needed that strength for this next battle, to save La Rue Sauvage and the Queen. And I had no idea how to infiltrate the royal ball at Chateau de Laurent to stop the attack.

  I leaned closer to Crimson, urging him toward L’atelier de Forgeron de Leóne. Pierre’s father had forbidden me to come near their place again, and I meant to stay away.

  But I had no choice.

  The back door of L’atelier de Forgeron de Leóne creaked open. Frayne Leóne stepped out and scanned the area. I ducked behind the woodpile before his eyes passed over me. In the woods, well beyond the shed, Crimson kept quiet among the thick trees. The noonday sun was high, the air warm.

  I had about eight hours left before the start of Laurent’s masquerade ball.

  I dared not show my face. Monsieur Leóne had given Father Vestille most of the money needed to bail me out of prison. Yet he had still ordered me to never visit Pierre again, and now he seemed to be keeping watch.

 
With a satisfied look, Monsieur Leóne moved back inside and shut the door. A moment later, Pierre emerged and strode to the woodshed. Monsieur Leóne stood just inside the door, watching him. Taking no chances of Pierre holding another secret meeting with me.

  After a few minutes, Pierre finished gathering the extra wood and brought it back. Monsieur Leóne glanced about once more before retreating inside. He had turned his blacksmith shop into a fortress.

  I bit my lip. I needed ideas for infiltrating the royal ball. I had hoped Pierre could develop some tool to help me enter unnoticed. But first I had to infiltrate the Leónes’ house.

  I waited another few minutes to make sure Monsieur Leóne would not peek back out. Then I held up a hand to Crimson, motioning him to stay put. I crept slowly around the side of the shop, and considered the upper window of the loft, where I had rested after Mama and Suzette were killed. This side of the building held a few small windows, but nothing moved within them.

  I crept forward, staying low and out of sight until I reached the wall. I pressed my back against it and listened for any movement or discussion inside. I heard only the continued hammering of hot metal being forged.

  I withdrew the grappling hook and released its prongs. Stepping away from the wall, I studied the windowsill above, then swung the hook up to catch it. It dug into the wood ledge and held firm. I tested it with my weight, then started up.

  With a few quick steps up the wall, I reached the sill and hoisted myself up. Sitting on the ledge, I tugged my hook free and slid it closed. Then I used it like a chisel to poke through the center of the two wooden shutter doors and snap the latch between them. I edged to one side and opened a shutter door.

  All was dark inside, save for the light issuing from the window and through the square opening from the shop below. I leaned into the window and tumbled inside to the floor, steadying myself with my hands. Thankfully, nothing had been re-arranged within, so I could ease myself the rest of the way to the floor without stumbling over any furniture.

  The heat was stifling now, rising from the fires below where the hammering continued, filling the atmosphere with smoke and oil. I took small breaths as my eyes adjusted to the blackness, and shapes began to form. The cot where I had laid. The table where I lit my lamp. The wardrobe that held old clothes from Pierre’s first mother, where I had found her red hooded cloak.

  I listened at the loft opening and waited until Monsieur Leóne told Pierre he had an errand to run. He gave stern warnings to speak only to customers while he was gone. I lay on my stomach beside the hole and heard the door close below. I waited another moment, then peered down into the shop.

  From my upside-down view, the shop seemed hazy and the oil and heat in the air made me dizzy. But Pierre looked stronger and sweeter than ever, hammering away to forge an iron tool. “Pierre,” I whispered.

  He didn’t hear me over his pounding.

  “Pierre!”

  He started, nearly dropping his tools. He poked at the coals, stifling the flame, and looked all around the room. “Red?”

  “Over here.”

  His eyes lit up when he found me. “Red! How did you get out? I heard you were arrested for threatening the Duke.”

  “You didn’t hear?” I asked. I pulled my head back up and tucked my legs into a crouching position. Then I dropped to a rung of the ladder and jumped down from there to stand before Pierre. He seemed impressed by my rapid descent. “Your father and some others gave Father Vestille money to release me.”

  Pierre blinked. “He never said anything. But I’m glad to hear it. I know he’s harsh, but he’s just trying to look out for us.”

  “In his own way,” I grumbled.

  Pierre swallowed. “After you told me the Duke was behind everything and he put you in prison, I was afraid he might have – well …”

  “I’m all right,” I said. “But I need your help to get into the royal masquerade ball.”

  He sighed. “I can’t help you. I found out that not everyone is invited to the ball. It’s only open to all the young maidens in town. I couldn’t have escorted you, even if you accepted.”

  “Well, that doesn’t matter,” I said. “The Duke officially uninvited me. But I was only asking for ideas. I’ll find a way to sneak in. I’ve done it before.”

  He shook his head. “You won’t do it again. I’ve heard the Queen sent a detachment of royal guards ahead of her to secure Chateau de Laurent on her behalf. They’re inspecting everyone and everything that comes through the gates, taking no chances.”

  I chewed on my lip. “That’s what I was afraid of. Both Laurent and the Queen will be watching for any intruders. Especially me. And once the masquerade ball begins and the doors close –.”

  “The wolves will kill everyone inside,” Pierre finished. He massaged the back of his neck, looking pained. “We’ve got to get you in there, but there’s no way past those guards.”

  “Is there anything you can make, to get me inside without being seen? Any other secret ways to enter the palace?”

  “No!” he burst, rubbing his temples. “There’s nothing. I mean, perhaps – there might be something you could use from a distance, if you could aim into a window, but – to get inside – Red, you’re talking about breaking into Chateau de Laurent. With the Queen visiting him. He’ll have guards stationed at every entrance, and she’ll have her own entourage. To get into that party, one would have to be a girl.”

  “That leaves me out, then,” I said, sounding more bitter than I intended.

  His eyes widened and he struggled to find his voice. “That’s – That’s not what I meant, Red. I just meant that it’s easy for a girl to get in. Except you, since they’re watching for you. Only a few select men have been invited. But it’s random. Some are farmers, coopers, even some apprentices. You would think Papa would have been invited, or the Verdantes, with their position in town.”

  “They’re only inviting Lycanthru,” I said. “That’s why it’s so random. And although any girl can attend, those Lycanthru are inviting their own escorts, whoever they want to be their –.”

  A sudden chill gripped me inside.

  “What? What is it, Red?”

  “They’re choosing mates,” I said dully. “That’s what Lieutenant-General Sharrad meant, about their new assignment from Duke Laurent. They’re establishing a new order, and all of the Lycanthru are choosing brides for themselves.”

  Pierre gaped. “So – they’re going to turn those women into wolves like them?”

  “Perhaps,” I said, trying to process the idea. “Or else keep them as helpless human prisoners.”

  Pierre’s face twisted with distaste. “That’s horrible. And from what I hear, they’re picking all the most beautiful ones. So there’s no way into the palace unless you’re a wolf or a gorgeous girl.”

  I looked away from him. “Again, that leaves me out.”

  “Red. I just meant that as sort of a joke. I mean, I couldn’t get in myself. But any pretty girl in the village can just put on a fancy dress and walk straight through the front door. We’ll need to be more discreet.” He rested his forehead on both of his hands. “There’s got to be some way to sneak inside. There’s got to. I just need to think.”

  I sighed. I had hoped for an immediate answer. If we didn’t stop Laurent tonight, he would soon claim the throne. Once he became King, nothing could stop him from preying on innocent children and families throughout the country. “All right. I’ll see if another man has any ideas.”

  Pierre narrowed his eyes. “Someone else is helping you? Is it someone at the tavern? I heard you went there a couple of times.”

  “More than a couple,” I said. I was revealing more than I should, but somehow I wanted to tell Pierre more. To trust him with more. “The tavern owner, Monsieur Touraine. He’s been giving me information as he learns it, to know what the Lycanthru are up to.”

  Pierre’s eyes widened. “Of course. That makes sense. He would hear from almost everyone in tow
n at some point. Yeah, if anyone would know of a way to get into the palace, it would be him. Yeah, that makes sense …”

  He seemed lost in thought again, more deeply this time. Perhaps he would find a way to break into the palace, but I couldn’t wait to find out. “I had better go before your father returns,” I said. “But I’ll be back later.” I touched his shoulder.

  He covered my hand with his. “I’ll think of something, Red. Just be careful.”

  “More careful than you’ve been,” Monsieur Leóne bellowed as he seized my other wrist. We were so preoccupied with our plans, we never heard him enter over the noise of the fire. He tugged me away from Pierre and toward the door, his cheeks puffing with rage, his grip like a vise. “Didn’t I tell you not to admit her? Can’t I trust my own son to protect our home?”

  “Papa, please,” Pierre begged from behind me. “She’s no threat.”

  “No threat?” he demanded. “She makes war against these beasts and they come in greater force. If she would leave them be, we might escape their notice. But she brings them right to our front doorstep!”

  My cheeks burned. “Monsieur Leóne, they’ll come to your door someday, whether you provoke them or not. I want to stop them before that happens.”

  “Then stop them, if you think you can. But leave our family out of it! It’s nothing to do with us.”

  He dragged me to the shop door so fast that I half-stumbled across the floorboards. He kept up his rough pace and hurled me out onto the street. An older couple stopped, seeing me tumble off the front stoop, but did nothing. I rolled onto my knees and stared up at Monsieur Leóne’s accusing finger.

  “Helena, I bailed you out once. I won’t do it again. If I see you near me or my son again, I’ll summon the police myself,” he warned.

  I glanced at the faces of the couple as they frowned at Monsieur Leóne with disapproval, but neither of them stepped forward to help me up. Another woman standing nearby in a beautifully designed yellow dress looked down her nose at me, as if sharing Monsieur Leóne’s contempt. Perhaps she also considered me a strange and dangerous girl, bringing trouble to everyone’s homes and to their children. Behind Monsieur Leóne, Pierre looked on, helpless to interfere further.