WolfeLord: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Scott’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  “Do it.”

  “But –!”

  “If you want to throw water on a raging fire, tell him. You can always change your mind later.”

  Scott shut his mouth, eyeing his father but understanding why he said what he did. It was a dirty trick, but it would – or should – calm Paris’ anger. At this point, he was willing to do anything to appease the father of the woman he loved.

  “Very well,” he sighed heavily. “If you believe it is the right thing to do.”

  William lifted his big shoulders. “I do not know if it is the right thing, but it is the wise thing to do,” he said. “Hopefully, Paris will more easily accept the situation. Hopefully, he will be so drunk that none if it will matter but, somehow, I am not holding out the belief that it will. This could go either way for you, Scott – either he will not care because he has already been through this situation once today, or he will explode because it has happened twice.”

  Scott was aware of that. He sat down on a stool that the grooms used, pondering his immediate future. The more he thought about it, the more worried he became. “Do you think he’ll do to me what he did to Troy?”

  “If he does, you will accept it.”

  Scott put his hand on his blond head, hating to lose his hair like his brother had. Yet, if that was all he lost, it would be a small price to pay. Hair would grow back. He might even get a slap or two and he would tolerate it. But the thought of Kieran sitting on his head already turned his stomach.

  In silence, Scott and William waited, listening to the sounds of the distant party and the occasional cry of the sentries. The horses in the stable stirred now and again, including a charger who had an inordinate amount of flatulence. Scott sat there, listening to that horse fart, torn between disgust with the animal and the apprehension of what was coming. It was the unknown that worried him.

  And then, they began to hear footsteps.

  They also heard bickering, clearly Paris speaking to Kieran. Taking a deep breath, Scott stood up so he could face Paris on his feet. He didn’t want to face him seated on the stool where Paris could easily kick him in the face if he was angry enough. He didn’t want to lose teeth. As he watched the stable entry, Kieran appeared practically dragging Paris by his arm.

  And Paris did not look pleased.

  “Unhand me, you brute,” Paris snapped, yanking his arm from Kieran’s grip and nearly landing on his arse with the momentum of the pull. But he kept his balance as well as the contents of the tankard he carried, though barely. “What is this all about?”

  William cast his son a long look before speaking. “Scott wishes to speak with you in private,” he said. “He did not want to compete with all of the guests in the hall, so I asked Kieran to bring you out here.”

  Paris was weaving around, perturbed and unsteady. A handsome man with graying blond hair, he was the commander of Northwood Castle’s army, a great castle in the north and ally to William and Castle Questing. He also happened to be William’s oldest and closest friend next to Kieran. The three of them were so close that they even married cousins, officially making them all family. They’d seen life and death and innumerable battles together, but almost nothing as important as the battle that was forming now. Those family ties had already been tested today and they would, once again, be tested this night.

  Scott knew it was time to get on with it.

  “Uncle Paris,” he said. “I’m not sure this is the right time for such a thing, but I find that I must ask. Now with Troy and Helene married, it has occurred to me that I do not want to wait to start my life with Athena. I… I cannot remember when I haven’t loved her, or that she hasn’t been in my life. I never wish to be without her and I promise that I will make her happy. She will never want for anything and I will be true to her until the day I die. May I have your permission to marry her?”

  William and Kieran were watching Paris closely. That’s not the tack or the approach they would have chosen to take when there was something far more important to tell Paris. But very quickly, they realized that it was a brilliant tactical move by Scott by gaining the man’s permission to marry first.

  Then, deliver the questionable news.

  Paris looked at Scott, processing what the young knight had said. Beneath that drunken façade, his mind was fairly clear when it came to matters of the family, including Scott and Athena. The pair that had both pined for one another and ignored one another, and this had been going on for years. Scott was a fine lad and Paris loved him like a son. In fact, he had a special attachment to him, as William’s first born, and he had been expecting this question for the past two years.

  Was it the right time to ask? Probably not, but he had. Attending a wedding had a way of inspiring bravery in those considering it.

  But Paris didn’t want Scott to think he was too eager to agree.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “She is quite young.”

  “Not too terribly,” Scott said. “Women are married at an age younger than she is now.”

  “But she may not want to marry you. Have you asked her?”

  Scott blinked in surprise. “Of course I have,” he said. “She wants to marry me very much.”

  Paris shrugged, leaning against one of the supporting posts for the roof of the stable. “I am not certain of this,” he said, sounding both casual and inebriated. “Rafe d’Vant has an eye for her, you know. He’s an excellent knight from an excellent Cornwall family.”

  Scott knew enough about his Uncle Paris to know the man was trying to goad him. “Rafe has an eye for someone else,” he pointed out. “He has no interest in marrying Athena when he knows she is for me.”

  He may have had a better answer than Paris was expecting, but that didn’t deter him. “There are a half-dozen lords in Northumberland who are better prospects than you are,” he said. “Men who have wealth and titles.”

  “I’ll have those someday.”

  “But you do not have them now,” Paris said. “De Vesci’s heir has looked at my Athena with longing in his eyes. Mayhap I shall ask him if he wishes to pursue her.”

  Unfortunately, Scott didn’t have much patience, especially when it came to Athena and his pride. He knew Paris was just being difficult for there was truly no reason for him to deny him permission to marry her. The families had been expecting it for quite some time, so Paris was just being childish, in Scott’s opinion.

  That served to fuel his ire.

  “Do that and I shall kill him and bring all of Alnwick down around our ears,” he said. “Is that what you want? A war?”

  Paris took another swig from his cup. “The war will be with your father, not me,” he said. “My daughter is quite beautiful.”

  “I know.”

  “Many men look at her with longing in their eyes.”

  “How many men have asked for her hand?”

  He had Paris on that point because there hadn’t been any. Paris’ eyes narrowed. “That is none of your business,” he said. “The point is that you may not be her only suitor. She is young and I will not rush into anything.”

  Scott’s face was beginning to turn red and William had remained silent long enough. He didn’t like seeing Paris harass his son in that fashion because it was bordering on mean-spirited.

  “Paris,” he rumbled. “Either give your permission or deny him. Stop torturing him for your own amusement.”

  Paris looked at William. “It is not for my own amusement,” he said. “Your son wants to marry my daughter. Did he think it was going to be a simple thing? Did he think I would simply shake his hand and thank him for the offer? She has other choices than your arrogant son, you know.”

  William shook his head at the man, exasperated, as Scott’s dander rose. He knew he shouldn’t clap back, but with Paris calling him arrogant, he found that he was deeply insulted.

  “She does not have any other choices,” he pointed out hotly. “I am her first and only choice
. If you do not want to give me permission, then simply say so, but know that I will not listen to you. I am going to marry her no matter what you say.”

  Paris drank the last of his cup and tossed it aside. “Is that so?” he said. “You think no other man will want her, then?”

  “No other man will want a woman carrying another man’s child!”

  Both William and Kieran looked at Scott with wide eyes, shocked that he’d just blurted out something that should have been gently delivered. But Paris had provoked him; there was no question in their minds that Paris had unreasonably provoked him.

  But now, they waited for the explosion.

  It wasn’t long in coming.

  With a roar, Paris grabbed the nearest weapon, which happened to be a big, iron bar that the smithies used when shoeing the horses. He lifted it like a club and charged after Scott as the man dodged out of his way. Kieran leapt back as Scott raced past him, sticking out a foot and tripping Paris as the man came near. Scott ran through the stable yard as Paris picked himself up, grabbed his iron bar, and took a swing at Kieran. It was a drunken swing, but a swing nonetheless, and Kieran easily ducked it.

  “I will kill you!” Paris shouted at Kieran. “I must kill Scott first, but when I do, I’ll come back and kill you!”

  Kieran was fighting off a bad case of the giggles. “I will be waiting right here.”

  Paris roared again and stumbled after Scott, who had retrieved an enormous pitchfork that the grooms used to dispense the hay. It was heavy, made from iron and wood, and he held it up to deflect Paris’ blow as the man swung at him.

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Paris,” Scott said, trying to defend himself. “I did not mean to tell you in that manner, but… well, you were being hateful. It just came out.”

  Paris was on fire. “I’ll tell you what else is going to come out,” he bellowed. “Your guts when I’m finished with you! I am going to disembowel you right in front of your father! Guts everywhere like a sea of red!”

  He was swinging the iron rod recklessly because he was so drunk that his aim was horrible. Scott was trying to stay out of his range, defending himself more than he was actually fighting back.

  “If you kill me, Athena really will have a bastard,” Scott said, dodging a swing that came close to his knees. “Uncle Paris, I love her. I want to marry her. If the child is male, we are going to name him after you. Your grandson will be named Paris. Does that not please you?”

  Paris growled. He didn’t stop swinging the rod, as Scott had hoped. “You’ll not sully my name with the de Wolfe stench,” he said. “You cannot name the child Paris de Wolfe. I forbid it!”

  Scott was walking in circles around Paris, trying to stay away from the rod. “You are going to have another grandchild with Troy and Helene,” he said. “Both of your daughters have chosen de Wolfe husbands. You love my father and he loves you. Stop saying terrible things about the de Wolfe name.”

  “It stands for animals! Foolish, reckless animals!”

  “At least these animals have wealth and property, unlike the de Norvilles.”

  Paris stopped swinging, his eyes narrowing at Scott. “What did you just say to me, Boy?”

  Scott didn’t lower the pitchfork and he didn’t back down. “I said the House of de Wolfe has property and money,” he said. “What do the de Norvilles have except a madman for a father and a life of servitude to Teviot? You’re nothing but a servant and that is all you will ever be. You should be fortunate that I am offering for your daughter at all given the state of your family.”

  “Scott,” William hissed, standing several feet away because he’d followed the combatants at a distance. “Apologize immediately.”

  Scott glanced at his father. “I will not,” he said defiantly. “He has spent the past several minutes greatly insulting me and you let him. I love Athena and I am trying to do the honorable thing by marrying her, but all Paris wants to do is insult me and the family name. I won’t stand for it any longer.”

  “He’s drunk, lad.”

  “I don’t care!” Scott said, tossing aside the pitchfork and opening himself up to Paris’ weapon. In fact, he faced Paris and spread his arms out. “You want to kill me? Go ahead. But it doesn’t change facts. Athena is pregnant and I am the father. I am trying to do the right and honorable thing, but you want to kill me for it just like you wanted to kill Troy. You’re a fool, Paris de Norville. An old and stupid fool, so if you think you can find a better husband for Athena, go right ahead. I won’t stop you. But just know I have lost every bit of love and respect I ever had for you, so I hope you can live with that.”

  With that, he stormed off, leaving Paris, William and Kieran standing in the small stable yard. William and Kieran watched him go as Paris stood there, looking at the rod in his hand. When Scott stormed out of sight, William and Kieran looked at each other before returning their focus to Paris.

  “He did not mean it,” William said. “But you pushed him too far, Paris. You had no reason to behave as you did towards him.”

  Paris was still looking at the rod in his hand. “No reason?” he repeated. “The man impregnated my daughter. You’ve had two sons impregnate my daughters, William. What does that say about you as a father?”

  William’s instinct was to hold his tongue because with as brittle as they both were, their lifelong friendship really could end that night. For good. But he didn’t like hearing Paris impugning his sons.

  It wasn’t as if Paris had lived a straight and pious life himself.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’d be more concerned with the fact that you have two unwed, pregnant daughters. What does that say about you, as a father, that you would let your daughters be so unrestrained around men?”

  Paris looked at him. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  William shook his head, exasperated, but he was prevented from responding when Kieran put himself between them.

  “Enough,” he rumbled quietly. “If this conversation goes any further, real damage will be done. Paris, you have left many a deflowered maiden in your wake, so stop pointing fingers. You, of all people, have no right to do so. What Scott did was not ideal, but it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing and with women you were not in love with, so your outrage is hollow.”

  Paris’ blue eyes glittered. “Are you taking his side, Kieran?”

  Kieran cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not taking anyone’s side,” he said. “But I am pointing out that you are acting despicably. You have every right to become angry and to punish Scott, but you do not have the right to insult him and his father. Stop acting so self-righteous. We have been through this with you once today and, quite honestly, I am weary of your behavior.”

  “So am I.”

  It wasn’t William or even Paris who spoke. The three of them turned towards the stable yard entry to see Athena standing there with a broadsword in her hand. A big, heavy broadsword that she was handling most ably. The men faced her as she stepped into the small yard, her focus on her father.

  “Scott is in the hall, Papa,” she said, her jaw ticking faintly. “He will not speak to me or look at me. What did you do?”

  Paris didn’t like being cornered and he didn’t like being questioned, especially by his daughter.

  “That is no affair of yours,” he said. Eyeing his tall, elegant daughter, the emotion was visible on his face. “Tee… how could you let this happen? Helene, I can understand, because she is weak and pliable. But you… you would make a magnificent battle commander had you been born a man. How could you let this happen?”

  Athena could match her father’s strength and then some. “It’s not his fault, you know,” she said, coming closer to him. “I seduced him. You are right when you say that I would have made a magnificent battle commander because I can command men to my will. I commanded Scott to my will and I liked it. Is that clear enough? I carry his child now and I am not sorry. He came to tell you the situation like an honorable man but, clearly
, you did not react in kind. What did you do?”

  The last four words were spoken deliberately. Paris heard them, but he was still dealing with the fact that his daughter had admitted to seducing a man. Bold, strong, and willful Athena was behaving like her father had in his prime – seducing women, acting on impulse and passion rather than common sense. She was most definitely her father’s daughter.

  But his pride wouldn’t let him admit it.

  “I called him an animal,” he said. “Because he is. Both Scott and Troy are animals because of what they’ve done to you and your sister. Beastly actions from men with no honor.”

  Athena’s eyes narrowed, looking a good deal like her father in that gesture. “Take that back,” she said in a hazardous tone. “Take it back and apologize. You will not insult him so.”

  “After what he has done?” Paris said, incredulous. “After what you let him do? Your mother is a fine, noble woman. I thought you would have learned grace and restraint from her.”

  Athena cocked an eyebrow. “As you have so often pointed out, I am exactly like you,” she said. “I learned to be passionate and selfish, because that is exactly what you are – selfish. You are selfishly thinking about yourself in this situation and not about me. I love Scott, Papa. Does that even matter to you? I will marry him.”

  “It is my decision.”

  “It is not.”

  Paris waved her off. “I will not have this discussion with you,” he said. “You are a lass that knows your own mind and is not afraid to speak it. But in this case, you are wrong. It’s my decision whether or not you will marry that rutting bull who has soiled my fragile flower.”

  It was almost the exact same thing he had said to William about Troy earlier in the day, though Athena couldn’t have known that. She did, however, have the same reply that William had.

  “No daughter of Caladora de Norville is a fragile flower,” she said coldly. “And you will not speak that way of Scott.”

  “I will do as I please.”

  Athena lifted the broadsword with two hands. “Then you have insulted him for the last time,” she said. “I will ask you once more – will you give permission for our marriage?”