As they entered the stable, Jemma immediately saw Athena sitting on a stool near a table that held all manner of combs and brushes for the horses.
“I must swear you to secrecy, Aunt Jemma,” he said. “You are the only one not affected by the situation, so I must have your oath.”
Jemma looked at him curiously. “Ye have it,” she said. “But what situation do ye mean?”
Scott came to a pause in front of Athena, turning to look at Jemma. The woman was pregnant with her fifth child and due to give birth in a month, so Scott was hoping she would understand their predicament and advise them. When she wasn’t being angry or volatile, Jemma could be wise and patient. But only if the mood struck her.
Scott could only hope this was one of those times.
He took a deep breath.
“You know the situation my brother and Helene are in?” he said.
Jemma lifted her eyebrows. “Their marriage?”
Scott shook his head. “The reason they were prompted into the marriage so… quickly.”
Jemma understood immediately. “Ah,” she said. “Aye, that. And yer brother paid the price for it when he earned himself the Helm of Shame.”
And so came forth that terrible, awful name.
Helm of Shame.
It was something greatly feared by all of the sons and soldiers of William de Wolfe, Paris de Norville, and Kieran Hage. They were the greatest knights of their generation, men who had been born and bred for battle, men who had raised their children in the same honorable fashion.
The Helm of Shame was used as punishment for those who behaved ignobly.
It was one of those brilliant, nasty tricks used for punishment on naughty lads or lazy knights. It had all started many years ago at a battle near Whiteadder Water when someone cut the garter off the mail of Kieran’s left leg during the heat of battle. The mail slid down and took his breeches with it, and suddenly, Kieran was fighting with his bare arse exposed.
Once the fighting stopped, Kieran was so angry at the rebelling Scots that he refused to pull up his breeches. He left his backside hanging out and made it all the way back to the encampment that way. But it didn’t end there. He went to the Scots prisoners and made them all look at his bare buttocks to punish them for their insurrection.
And so, came the Helm of Shame.
As Kieran was walking around, holding up his breeches in the front so his manhood was covered, he came across a knight from Northwood Castle. The young knight was named Corin de Fortlage and he had pulled out of the battle early, pleading exhaustion. Kieran was so angry at Corin that he pushed the man to the ground and sat on his head with his bare buttocks. He called it the Helm of Shame and told Corin if he ever left the field of battle early again, he would punish him again with the Helm of Shame. It had been particularly ghastly for Corin because of the way he’d fallen on the ground – when Kieran squatted on him, from the angle of his head, the man’s testicles were right by Corin’s nose.
Corin was always the last man to leave the field of battle after that.
The Helm of Shame was legendary amongst the de Wolfe armies and it was something that Kieran had done more than once. If a young knight displeased him, they were threatened with the Helm of Shame. No one else could do it better than Kieran and the older knights began using it as a threat to the younger knights or misbehaving squires. William, Paris, and Kieran had even used it on their own sons to keep them from being naughty.
Unfortunately, it had been used on Troy when Helene’s pregnancy had been discovered and, even now, Troy was in the great hall with his head shaved because part of the Helm of Shame had been to shave his head in an odd manner, leaving just a patch of hair at the top of his skull so he looked like a complete fool. Scott’s mother, Jordan, had taken pity on her son and shaved off that weird patch so at least his head was uniform now, even if he was bald.
Scott didn’t want that to happen to him.
“There is no delicate way to put this, so I will come out with it,” he finally said. “Tee and I are in the same predicament, only our fathers do not know yet. I am not sure how to tell Uncle Paris. I need your counsel, Aunt Jemma. Please.”
Jemma didn’t react to the shocking news. Scott and Athena kept waiting for her to shriek with surprise, even outrage, but she didn’t. She simply looked between the pair of them, digesting what she’d been told. After a moment, she sighed faintly and rubbed her own blossoming belly.
“Well,” she said thoughtfully. “If we’re being perfectly honest, yer Uncle Kieran and I were in the same situation before we were married and, if I recall, so were yer own mother and father. ’Tis nothing new with the hot-blooded men of de Wolfe and Hage. Even de Norville. That pompous peacock likes tae think he’s perfect.”
Scott fought off a grin. The animosity between Jemma and Paris was legendary. “You mean Uncle Paris?”
Jemma snorted and turned up her nose, which was usual when discussing Paris. Scott watched her closely, waiting for some measure of wisdom to come forth, but nothing was forthcoming.
“Well?” he said hopefully. “How should I tell Uncle Paris?”
Jemma held up a hand for patience before extending the bucket to him. “Put some milk in it for the bairns,” she said. “I’ll return.”
Leaving Scott holding the bucket, she headed out of the stable. When she was gone, Scott turned to Athena.
“Where did she go?” he wondered, baffled. “Do you think she’s gone to tell him herself?”
Athena’s eyes were wide. “I do not know,” she said. “He’ll not take the news well coming from her. Mayhap you should go after her.”
Scott wasn’t sure about that. Part of him wanted to hide behind his pregnant aunt, but most of him wanted to stop her if, indeed, she had gone in to tell him herself. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he stood there nervously as Athena took the bucket from him and went to the rear of the stable where the dairy cows where corralled along with several goats and their kids. Scott could hear her milking the cow, the rhythmic sounds of milk streams hitting the side of the bucket. It seemed like an eternity, listening to the sounds of the distant party and the swish, swish of the milk, until he could suddenly hear people approaching the stable.
The sound of footsteps did nothing to help his anxiety. He stood his ground as he saw figures coming at him from the darkness.
Jemma was followed by two very large men.
William de Wolfe’s features came into view, followed shortly by Kieran Hage. Men he loved and trusted dearly, but men who, only several hours earlier, had done unspeakable things to his brother in punishment for the exact same predicament. He heard Athena gasp as she came back in from the corral, but Scott couldn’t take his eyes from his father.
Jemma came to a halt in front of him.
“I told them that ye needed tae tell them something,” she said quietly. “If ye want advice, they’re the men tae ask, lad. Ye’d better do it.”
Scott looked at her, knowing why she’d done it. He’d tried to put the burden of a terrible situation on her shoulders and she’d shirked that duty, quite reasonably so, in favor of the men who could genuinely be of some help.
“What is it?” William asked, half-drunk from hours of drinking to Troy’s marriage. “Why are you out here? What is so important?”
Scott sighed sharply. There was no use in delaying the inevitable.
“Because I must ask your advice,” he said. “I want to marry Athena, Papa.”
A smile spread across William’s lips as he looked at Athena, who was handing the half-filled pail of milk over to Jemma.
“I know,” he said. “I have known for years. But I am not the one to ask, lad. Paris is in a good mood – go inside the hall and ask him now.”
“I want to marry her because she is carrying my child.”
William’s smile vanished. Years ago, he’d lost his left eye to an archer in battle, but his right eye was still sharp, still keen, now wide in shock.
&nb
sp; “She’s pregnant?” he gasped.
“Aye.”
“But Helene is pregnant!”
“Aye, Papa. Both of them are.”
William just stood there, absorbing what he’d been told. But given that he was tipsy, he was in less control of his emotions than he usually was. Scott’s muscular body was tense as he prepared for his father’s inevitable onslaught. When his father didn’t reply right away, Scott hastened to make his case clear.
“Athena is further along than Helene, only she has managed to hide her condition better,” he said, looking between his father and Kieran, who didn’t seem particularly surprised. “I meant to ask for her hand when we found out, but you sent me to London on business and by the time I returned, several months had passed. I would have been able to lie about it had we married when we first discovered it. But now, I cannot lie about it. She is going to have a child and I must tell Uncle Paris. I want to ask your advice on how to do it.”
William’s jaw dropped. He looked at his son for a moment before rolling his eye and slouching back against the wall of the stable.
“Oh… God,” he muttered. “Another one.”
Scott still wasn’t sure where this was going so he remained on his guard, prepared to defend himself. “Aye,” he said steadily. “Another one. I am sorry for disappointing you, Papa, but I am not sorry for loving Athena. She carries the heir to the House of de Wolfe and I must marry her. I want to.”
That was true. Scott was a twin, but he was the firstborn twin, the first son of William de Wolfe and his wife, Jordan. That meant the child Athena carried was indeed the heir if it was a male child. William found himself looking at Athena.
Tall and elegant, with golden-red hair, she was a woman of grace and beauty, even at her young age. Scott had been sweet on her for some time, but he’d spent so much time pretending to ignore her, and she him, that he was genuinely surprised that they’d managed to connect. Not only connect, but conceive a child. Both Scott and his brother, Troy, had bedded women and gotten them pregnant. But not just any women – Paris’ daughters.
William couldn’t help it; he started to laugh. A dry, humorless laugh.
“God’s Bones, what animals I have raised,” he muttered. “After what happened with your brother today, Paris will be even angrier with you. He’s going to be bloody well furious and you know he wanted to fight your brother today. You saw it, Scott. He came armed for battle and Kieran had to talk him out of it.”
Scott knew that, for he’d been armed for battle, too, prepared to defend his brother against a very angry father of a pregnant daughter. He looked to Kieran to see the man’s reaction. Wise, gentle, and enormously powerful, Kieran was the most levelheaded person that Scott knew. He was hoping the man had something encouraging to say, but Kieran was gazing at him as if completely exasperated by the situation.
“I know,” Scott said. “I was hoping Uncle Kieran might have some words of advice. Or… or mayhap help me face him.”
Kieran shook his head. “I do not think Paris can take another dose of news such as this, not today,” he said. “But there is little choice. Mayhap it is best you do it now, while he is celebrating Helene’s marriage and possibly too drunk to do much damage.”
Scott nodded, but it was with great reluctance. “Mayhap,” he said. “I’m sorry to ask for your assistance, for I know I should face this alone, but the longer we waited, the more difficult it has become.”
“Paris is going to want his pound of flesh,” William said. “I will not stop him, Scott. You soiled the man’s daughter.”
“He did not soil me,” Athena said, finding her voice. When Scott tried to stop her, she ignored him. “Do you hear me, Uncle William? He did not soil me. If you must know the truth, I seduced him. Does that shock you?”
William looked at Athena. She was a smart lass, deeply compassionate and caring, but she was also bold and arrogant, like her father. She took after him in almost every aspect. She had an unruly tongue when the mood struck her and Paris had difficulty with her at times because of it. She was unafraid to speak her mind, unafraid to do what she wanted to do. But she was also wildly emotional and her mood swings could be tremendous – happy one moment, weeping the next.
That could be a problem.
Paris told William that Athena had threatened to kill herself once when Scott had seemingly rejected her. That was in days long past, of course, but William wondered if Scott even knew that, and if he did, if he was with the woman because of it. No one wanted to test Athena in that regard because being as fearless as she was, she might very well do such a thing simply to prove a point. It was something Paris really didn’t speak of, and hadn’t except for that one time, but looking at the young woman, William wondered if she’d grown out of those impulses.
He wondered what would happen should Paris become truly irate at Scott.
“You are young and you are in love,” William said after a moment. “You and Scott have demonstrated that love. I do not find it shocking, but your father will have something different to say about it. He was irate about Helene and I can only imagine that he will be irate about you. Now… will you go inside with your Aunt Jemma? I wish to speak to Scott alone, please.”
Athena geared up for a retort but the expression on Scott’s face forced her to rethink it. After a moment, she reluctantly obeyed. It wasn’t her instinct to obey, but she forced herself to. She felt Jemma grasp her hand, pulling her from the stable.
With great misgivings, she followed.
The night outside was cold and crisp, a thousand stars overhead. Inside the great hall of Castle Questing, music and light and warmth filtered through the enormous lancet windows, giving off energy into the night. But Athena wasn’t thinking about her sister’s wedding feast – she was thinking about the man she’d left behind in the stable.
“What do you think Uncle William is saying to him?” she asked Jemma. “Do you think he’s truly angry?”
Jemma was focused on the keep. “I think that he is giving Scott advice on how tae inform yer father without causing the man tae blow the top of his head off in rage.”
Athena was still uncertain. “I know that I must let Scott speak with him, but what I said in there was true. I did seduce him.”
Jemma didn’t have any discernable reaction to that declaration. “Ye’re a bold woman, Tee,” she said. “But ye’ve always known yer own mind. I know Scott isna a whim.”
“Never,” she insisted. “I love him and he loves me, and our son will be the greatest knight England has yet seen.”
They had come close to the keep now, with its music and light and wafts of food on the night air. Jemma didn’t comment any further on the situation between Scott and Athena because, frankly, it was none of her business and out of her hands.
“Come inside, lass,” she said. “Yer father has spent a good deal of money for this affair, so ye may as well enjoy it.”
“My wedding will be bigger.”
“Mayhap,” Jemma said. “But come inside now and out of the cold night.”
Athena followed her inside, but it was only to linger in the shadows, anxious. She knew, at some point, that either Scott was going to come inside or Paris was going to go out to the stable and she wanted to be prepared for what was to come. One thing was for certain – she wasn’t going to let her father try to kill Scott as he’d tried to kill Troy, and she wasn’t going to let Kieran sit on his head with the ghastly Helm of Shame. Just as Scott would always protect her, she would protect him.
Judgment Day was coming.
She only hoped they would all survive it.
*
“Kieran, go into the hall and get Paris.”
William gave the fateful command, speaking softly but firmly. Kieran, his gaze lingering on Scott, left the stable without another word. When he was gone, William turned to his son.
“We can only hope the alcohol will numb him enough so that he simply accepts what you tell him,” William said to
his son. “Let us pray for that because I almost ended my friendship with him today when he tried to kill Troy. I’d hate to have to make that decision twice in one day.”
Scott hung his head. Not because he was ashamed of his predicament with Athena because he wasn’t. It was because he was deeply remorseful for what his father had to deal with. It wasn’t just a situation that involved him and him alone – it was something that involved the whole family.
That was the unfortunate nature of it.
“For your distress, I am sorry,” he said after a moment. “Please believe me, Papa, when I say that I did not intend to disappoint you like this. I fully intend to face whatever punishment Uncle Paris wants to bring down on me, for the situation warrants it. I know it does. But I will not apologize for loving Athena. She is a strong, beautiful woman and she is worthy of being the mother of the heir to the House of de Wolfe.”
“She is indeed worthy, but you should have waited until you were married to bed her.”
“Did you wait until you were married to Mother to bed her?”
William couldn’t lie to his son, but he wasn’t going to answer him, either. “We are not speaking of me,” he said. “We are speaking of you. When I married your mother, I did not have a father to advise me. My father was long dead, but you have me and I will indeed advise you. You’ve gotten yourself into a bind, lad. If we all come out of this unscathed, it will be a miracle.”
Scott knew that truer words had never been spoken. “I cannot undo what has been done,” he said. “There is a child on the way. We have already discussed it and we are going to name our son William, after you. It seems appropriate.”
That took the raging wind right out of William’s sails. A grandson to carry on his name. He was almost swept away with the sweet and happy thoughts of a grandson who looked just like him, but he wondered if Scott had used it as a ploy to soften him. If he had, it was a brilliant move.
In fact, it gave him an idea.
“While I am deeply honored, and you know I am, I would not tell Paris that,” he said. “When the man comes in here and you must tell him the truth, tell him that you intend to name the child after him.”
WolfeLord: de Wolfe Pack Generations Page 2