Wolves

by W. A. Hoffman

  “Trip him,” I hissed back.

  She closed the door. “They are indisposed,” she said with authority from the other side of the balcony shutters.

  “Are they?” he asked archly. “Well that is inconvenient. We have a matter that must be attended…”

  “We know!” I said loudly. “We know who he is, and why he is here.”

  “Will! This is… It will not do!”

  I stood and realized my wrists were still bound. Gaston cut me free and I tore open the shutter to come nose to nose with Theodore. His gaze flicked down my nakedness and he took a step back. I looked down at my flaccid member and saw I had forgotten the blanket.

  Theodore flushed. “You were indisposed…” he muttered.

  Yvette’s composure had crumbled into helpless laughter; she waved us off and stumbled down the balcony, giggling.

  I sighed and mustered what remained of my composure. “She… He, Chris will be leaving with us as a man. It is easier on everyone. In the end, there will be less explaining if we follow this course.”

  “I do not understand,” he said with frustration.

  “Christine wishes to live as a man in order to enjoy pleasures reserved for men. Not women,” I said quickly. “She favors men. She wishes to adventure and… She is not interested in being a good wife and having babies.”

  “Not interested… Is there no end to her arrogance?” Theodore said, truly offended. “God makes us as we are, Will. It is one thing for her to dress as a boy to sneak about town or… travel. But it is a thing of another magnitude entirely for her to wish to live this way.”

  I could well imagine what he said to her and her reaction.

  Gaston was dressed and out on the balcony. “I will see to... him.”

  I wanted to kiss him. “Be careful,” I said. “She might be panicked after…” Being confronted and lectured by Theodore. I sighed.

  Gaston snorted as if he had heard my unspoken thought.

  Theodore was regarding us with alarm.

  “She came here to kill him,” I said reluctantly. “But then she realized she only wanted to kill the mad part of him. She is—as she always was—a confused young woman. She wants things not available to her sex according to the dictates of society. We are willing to help her. It would be good if others here would aid in the matter.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Theodore sighed and turned to lean against the balcony.

  I decided to dress. I was pleased I remembered to keep my reddened backside turned away from Theodore.

  “Did the Marquis send her here?” Theodore asked thoughtfully.

  “I think not; and before you ask more, know that we have not finished his letter. We were interrupted by… Chris.”

  He sighed heavily.

  As a peace offering, I told him what little we had read as we walked downstairs.

  There were a great number of eyes on us in the atrium. Theodore’s agitation had spread to the rest, and I expected them to start squawking and running around at any moment like an upended coop of chickens. I was not sure what the best course should be. Should we tell only those who recognized her, or should we tell them all: because surely they would tell one another anyway?

  They must be told. I told them. They were surprised and confused.

  “The Gods have spoken in this matter. She is here; despite our misgivings. Gaston and I are tied to her.”

  Agnes glared at me. “The Gods be damned! I will not share a ship with that bitch! Nor will she stay in this house until we leave.”

  I swallowed. Agnes was so seldom angry: it was a frightening thing to behold. “All right then, I will find another place for her,” I said calmly.

  I retreated into the cool shadows of the hospital. I could hear urgent whispers from the surgery, but I could not discern their meaning. I wanted to retreat farther still: to the hut and Temple; but that safe haven was already invaded: it was the most likely place to put Chris.

  Gaston emerged from the surgery. He started at my presence in the shadows. I embraced him. As our foreheads met, I saw his Horse in his eyes. It was not so very far below the surface now.

  “Is she in the cart, or not?” I whispered. “Have I been hasty? Should…”

  He sighed and held me tighter, cutting off my words with a squeeze. “In. We are afflicted with her. It is my doing.”

  “Non, non,” I murmured. “Surely this is a thing we can blame upon the Gods.”

  Ninety-Nine

  Wherein We Prepare to Take Our Leave

  “I had to piss,” Chris protested before I could speak upon entering the surgery.

  “It is no matter,” I sighed. “They now know—all of them. Agnes refuses to share a house with you. So, you will live on the land Gaston and I have until we leave. There is a small dwelling there. It will only be temporary.”

  Gaston had been less pleased than even I was at this development, but he could think of no other course that would solve the immediate problem. Then it had been decided that I should take her to the hut, and he should see to Schoen and his other patients since we now knew we would leave soon.

  “Alone?” she asked.

  “Oui,” I assured her, and then saw by her expression that solitude was a thing she feared and not one she wished for. “It will not be for long,” I added. “You should be safe there. The land is on the Strikers’ and far from the roads.”

  “I have never been alone,” she said.

  “It can be very good for the soul. You may find you enjoy it.”

  She did not seem convinced; and I did not care.

  “And why do you keep speaking of leaving?” she asked.

  “I angered the Church months ago,” I told her as I led her out onto the street and around the house. “It is rather more complicated than that, but it is assumed they will eventually arrive with a warrant for my arrest. Also, I must resolve the matter with my father. So we have been planning to depart for months, and only awaiting the news we received today from the Marquis.”

  She had paused to gather her belongings from the corner of the infirmary where she had left them. I was amused to note she had acquired a musket. The length of it made her appear very short indeed. I stifled a sigh and led her to the stable.

  She regarded Pomme with concern when I mounted him bareback.

  “This is Pomme,” I said. “He is our only horse. It is a small island: one without many horses: yet, large enough that riding is much easier than walking.”

  She was unsure of how to proceed, so I had her pass me her things and then I offered her a hand. After several unsuccessful attempts at her leaping up behind me—with my not possessing the leverage of stirrups to easily pull her up—we were at last forced to settle on standing next to a barrel and having her step on from there. She simply did not have the strength to vault.

  “Mister Theodore was very unkind,” she said quietly in English as we rode out of town. “And you say Agnes does not wish to see me. I suppose I should be happy not to stay there. But where will we go and on what size vessel?”

  “You will not have a private cabin.”

  She sighed. Then she asked, “What happened in Port Royal? You say your father sent men to abduct you. All I heard from the Marquis was that you had decided to move to a French colony.”

  I told her all that had occurred—sparing many details of my incarceration.

  She was quiet and thoughtful when we dismounted at the hut. I expected her to ask why I did not rush to England to kill him; and so I showed her around quite brusquely, left her standing next to the Temple circle with no explanation for it, and started a fire. She stood in the circle of stones for a time before coming to join me.

  “You are building a temple?” she asked.

  I was surprised. “I am building a temple for Diana, aye.”

  “Why here? I have seen temples and the like as garden decorations to display fine sculptures. The priest and vicars call them pagan and tawdry—especially the ones with naked statues.”

>   “I am not building it as a decoration. I promised the Goddess a temple for Her aid with the childbirths we had this year.”

  She studied me for a time, her face expressionless. Then she asked, “When you mean the Gods, you actually mean the Gods?”

  “Aye.”

  She nodded and looked toward the sinking sun over my shoulder. “Do you feel your father is mad?”

  I snorted with amusement at the path I was sure her thoughts had followed. “Nay, I do not feel he is as mad as I.” Then I thought of my madness—such as it was these days, and my theories about my father’s cruelty. “Or perhaps he is. He is not gripped by it as Gaston is; but he is surely lost to it—always, I suppose. Such that no one sees him sane, or perceives him as insane, and he does not recall sanity as being a state different than the one he possesses.”

  “Could you kill him?” she asked. “Knowing he is perhaps not as he should be, could you kill him?”

  “I feel I must, unless fortune smiles upon us and he dies of some other cause. But when I do, it will not be for me that I pull the trigger, but for all the others who love me that he has harmed with his hatred of me.”

  “Like a rabid dog,” she said flatly.

  “Aye.”

  “How will you get away with it?” she asked without challenge.

  I sighed. “I do not know, yet. It must appear an accident. I decided when we came here that his life was not worth mine. It still is not; and I do not wish for everyone else to be hunted down like dogs for associating with a noble’s murderer.”

  She nodded. “It is a tactic of last resort.” She frowned and looked away.

  “You thought I would kill you if you succeeded this day?” I asked with surprise.

  “Aye.”

  “You wished for death?”

  “Aye.”

  She would not look at me.

  “Should I leave you here alone? So help me, if you defile the Temple by…”

  She laughed nervously. “Nay, nay, I will not. If I hang myself, it will be elsewhere. I will not make you chase me into Hades and back for revenge.”

  I studied her for a time. She tried to look at me and appear nonchalant, but she could not hold my gaze. She was still thinking of it. If I were she… Well, I probably would, too. I thought I should not leave her alone; but then, perhaps, that was exactly what she needed.

  “I cannot stop you if it is a thing you truly wish,” I said at last. “You must decide what your life is worth.”

  She took a long and shaky breath. “I know,” she whispered.

  The wind gusted and swirled the flames. The storm was very close now, a wall of black from north to south. It would rain before I could return home. Gaston would be worried.

  “I cannot tarry longer if I am to make it home before darkness falls,” I said regretfully. “The hut should be fine in the rain. Light the lantern. There should be enough oil to last through the night. There is fruit hanging there.” I pointed at the basket under the eave. “And boucan in a chest inside. Now hurry and stow your weapons before they get soaked.

  She nodded with resignation and began to do as I instructed. I fetched Pomme.

  “I expect to find you here in the morning,” I said as I mounted. “Alive.”

  She said nothing. To her credit, she did not beg me to stay.

  This would be her vigil of despair. She would survive it or she would not. If she did not wish to, all the hand-holding in the world would not save her.

  Pomme and I had a very wet ride back to town. I was soaked through and smelled of horse by the time I got him into the stable. I thought to draw a bath, but I thought tromping up and down the slippery stairs with buckets would be worse than the smell. I stripped my shirt and washed in the rain. There was light in the dining hall. I supposed I should join them for dinner, but I did not relish discussing Chris. Nay, I would retreat to our room and see if Gaston was also avoiding them. We had a letter to finish.

  One of the women emerged from the dining room and raced around beneath the balcony to meet me at the base of the stairs. It was Yvette. She peered at me with worried eyes from beneath her shawl.

  “What is it?” I called after a roll of thunder.

  “Gaston. He is… not well. I guess that is how you phrase it.”

  It was all I could do to not grab her shoulders and shake her. “What? Where?”

  “He is in your room,” she said wisely. “He is unharmed. I have been checking on him.”

  I took a deep breath. “All right. What occurred?”

  “Nothing. I feel that is because he wished to avoid…” She waved her hands in frustration. “He is drugged. He gave himself little. I watched. He asked me to…” She sighed. “He asked me to bind him. He said he feared running off after you and doing something mad. He asked me to tell no one else, and I haven’t.”

  “Thank you,” I said and embraced her. I was relieved he had gone to her and not Agnes. As much as we loved Agnes, Yvette was a thousand times more sensible – and calmer in the face of adversity.

  “You’re welcome,” she gasped when I released her. “I’m glad I could help. I told the others he is with a patient. I will tell them you are wet and tired. Should I bring food?”

  “Non, please, I will fetch it later. I would not have you braving the stairs with soup.” I caught her before she could leave. “Yvette, if I have not said this before, thank you. Thank you for being part of… our family. You mean much to us.”

  She appeared startled, and then she snaked an arm about my neck and pulled my head down for a quick kiss on my cheek.

  “It is good to be part of a family,” she whispered in my ear. Then she was gone.

  I hurried up the stairs. There was movement to my left, and I spun in time to see Doucette glaring at me from his doorway. Though where he stood was dry, his clothing was soaked, and his wild hair was wet and plastered to his face. He slammed the door. The damn bastard must have been on the stairs and seen me talking to Yvette. I was half-naked and she had kissed me. I cursed my horrible luck all the way to our room.

  One of the outer window shutters had opened and was banging against the wall. I shut it and tightened the bar. The lantern stopped swaying crazily. I found Gaston on the hammock watching me. His hands were well bound behind his back, but he appeared comfortable. His face held the Child’s dreamy mien.

  I dropped to kneel beside the bed and peer at him with a warm smile. “How are we?”

  He sighed and rooted toward me.

  I leaned forward and kissed his nose. “May I release you?”

  He nodded. “It was too much.”

  “Oui, it has been far too much, today.” I untied him and he stretched languidly.

  “I know you would never let her seduce you,” he said as if the thought was a curiosity; but, you know how my Horse can be.” He sighed.

  “She did not seduce, or even try,” I assured him. Of course, I was half-naked and the other truly mad man in the house now likely thought I had engaged in a liaison with his wife. I felt I should warn Yvette.

  I should warn Yvette.

  Trusting in the laudanum and the control he seemed to be exhibiting, I quickly told Gaston what had occurred as I dressed in dry clothes.

  “Oui, go tell her.” He pushed me to the door. “She should not have to face him without knowing.”

  There was a loud crack of thunder and suddenly his Horse was in his eyes and his hand was on a pistol.

  I smiled grimly. “Will you be well alone—now—while I do this thing?”

  His Horse was still present—but calm now. He nodded thoughtfully.

  I hurried toward the dining room. I saw Doucette’s door was open a crack as I neared the top of the stairs. I could feel him watching me. I smiled for lack of a better thing to do: glaring at him would accomplish nothing.

  The retort of the pistol scared me so much I almost fell down the stairs. The crack of a ball splintering the balcony column beside me made me dive down them. At the bottom, I
tried to decide what to do. I did not see Gaston running up the balcony. In the storm he had not heard. I could tell the others, but by then Doucette would have time to reload. I could charge in myself, but he might have more than one pistol.

  I decided I would kill him if left alone with him. I ran to the dining hall.

  “Doucette saw me thanking you!” I told Yvette in front of everyone. “I was coming to warn you he might be confused at what he saw. He is! He just took a shot at me!”

  There were curses and exclamations as the household sprang to life.

  “Don’t kill him!” Yvette implored as Liam and Bones followed me out the door.

  “We will try not to, Madame,” Liam assured her.

  Doucette had reloaded, and he had another pistol. I thanked the Gods he could not aim and he was panicked enough to fire at us before we entered the room. There was a brief tussle and we pinned him on the bed. He filled the room with his curses.

  “How did he get pistols?” I demanded in English as I gathered the pieces while Bones and Liam held him.

  “They be Madame Doucette’s!” Liam protested. “The whole house be armed.”

  “I know, but the ones in this room should have been locked away. We have grown lax, Liam. Chris was able to walk into the hospital and hold a gun on Gaston and me.”

  “What?” he shouted over Doucette’s ranting.

  Gaston appeared in the doorway, followed by a cautious Theodore and an anxious Yvette. My matelot did not appear to be himself; but I hoped it was the drug and not his Horse still holding sway. As worn as he was this day, I needed to tell him of Doucette’s attack in private. I went to join them.

  “There’s the whore!” Doucette raged.

  The hurt on Yvette’s face made my heart ache in sympathy.

  My temper snapped and I turned back to Doucette to roar, “Shut up, you miserable bastard! Never call your wife that! She has done nothing!”

  “You have been at her!” he roared back and pushed himself to sitting—Bones and Liam being too stunned or distracted by the discourse to continue to hold him.

  “I am an avowed sodomite, remember! I would not bed her! I fuck Gaston! I have no use for women!”