WolfeLord: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Paris happened to look at her, sword raised. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “And you will kill me if I do not?”

  Athena’s response was to wield the sword in a surprisingly skilled move, arcing it over her head and swinging it right at her father. He barely had time to get the iron rod up to deflect her blow.

  “Athena!” he said, moving away from her. “What in the hell are you doing? Cease this at once!”

  Athena wasn’t listening. She leveled off a series of impressive moves, striking the iron rod her father was holding, defending himself from her onslaught.

  “Not until you give permission,” she said, grunting as she swung the sword at his head. “Give it or face my wrath!”

  She went after her father with an astonishing amount of skill and strength for a woman who had not been trained as a warrior. She chopped and thrusted, chasing Paris all over the small yard as he used the iron rod to defend himself, all the while begging her to cease. But she wouldn’t. Athena was determined to force her father into giving his consent as William and Kieran watched, open-mouthed.

  They’d never seen anything like it.

  “What do we do?” Kieran hissed.

  William had no idea. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “I am not sure,” he said. “She’s very good.”

  Kieran nodded in shock. “Very good,” he agreed. “If she makes contact, she is going to seriously injure her father, or worse.”

  William could see that. “Frankly, I am afraid to try to disarm her,” he said. “I might come away missing a hand.”

  They watched as she narrowly missed clipping Paris’ forearm. “They can’t keep this up much longer before someone is hurt,” Kieran muttered. “She said that Scott was in the hall.”

  They were both thinking the same thing. “Find him, Kieran,” William said. “Tell him to come running.”

  Kieran headed off into the darkness as William monitored the fight, which was becoming more brutal by the moment. Paris, not wanting to fight his own daughter, was simply trying to stay clear of her. He was simply trying to stay in one piece.

  But the battle raged on.

  At some point, they ended up inside the stable as Paris tried to avoid getting sliced. He stumbled as he tried to flee her slashing, falling to his knees and forced to protect himself by bringing up a stool in order to prevent his daughter from cutting him through the neck. He managed to get to his feet but she continued to chase him, growing progressively weary. She may have been good with a sword, but she didn’t have the stamina that a knight had to throw around a heavy broadsword in the heat of battle.

  Athena finally backed Paris into a corner and having nowhere to run, Paris simply stood there with the iron rod raised. There was nowhere for him to go and they both knew it. With the advantage, Athena finally lowered the sword, panting heavily.

  “Now,” she said, exhausted. “Are you going to give us permission to wed?”

  All of the drink Paris had been filled with had been mostly burned off during his flight for his life from his very own daughter. He was still tipsy, but not nearly as drunk as he had been.

  He lowered the rod.

  “Does it mean so much to you?” he asked.

  Athena rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Of course it does,” she said. “I am willing to cut your head off because you will not give your permission. Why would you ask such a foolish question?”

  Paris’ gaze moved over her as she leaned against the side of the stall, wiping the sweat from her brow. He could see William standing behind her – the man had moved close to make sure no one really got hurt. He didn’t care if Paris’ pride took a beating from his aggressive daughter, but he did care if she drew blood.

  Slowly, Paris sighed.

  “When you were a little girl, you challenged Scott to a fight,” he said softly. “Do you remember?”

  Athena, still breathing heavily, nodded. “I do,” she said. “He and Troy and Hector would travel in a gang and fight other squires and pages and steal their money.”

  “So you would champion their victims.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “He was a bully.”

  “So were you.”

  Athena eyed her father for a moment before looking away, trying not to grin. “I was taller than most of the boys,” she said. “I was stronger, too. Someone had to stop them.”

  “And you decided it would be you.”

  She nodded, leaning the sword against the stall wall as she faced him. “I did,” she said. “Somewhere in the process, I realized that I loved Scott. I have always loved him, Papa, and I would be lost without him. Even if I was not carrying his child, I would still want to marry him very badly.”

  Paris, by now, was much calmer and more rational. Perhaps just the least bit sorry he’d been such a horse’s arse and had driven his daughter to violence. “I know,” he said quietly. “I have always known.”

  “Then why are you resisting?”

  Paris took a long, deep breath and slumped against the wall. “I do not know,” he said. “I suppose because you are growing up so fast. Yesterday, you were a young lass who wanted to fight all of the boys and when I woke up this morning, you were a young woman wanting to marry the man you love. You have always wanted to grow up so fast, Tee, and to do everything so quickly. You rush into everything. Mayhap I am simply not ready for you to rush into this.”

  Athena could hear the sorrow in his tone and it softened her, just a little. “But you let Helene marry.”

  He lifted his shoulders. “I had little choice,” he said. “But neither one of you are of age, Tee. You are young women, that is true, but you’ve not yet seen eighteen years. And you wonder why I do not want you to marry yet?”

  Athena might not have been of age yet, but she was close. Not only that, she was quite mature for her age. She always came across as someone much older because of the way she carried herself, and those who did not know the family thought she was older than her sister when, in fact, she was younger. She had a certain quality about her that made her wise beyond her age, something Scott had seen in her for the past couple of years now, ever since she’d become a woman in every sense of the word. The only person who didn’t see her as a grown woman was, in fact, her father.

  Sighing faintly, she went to him.

  “I know that I rush into everything, Papa,” she said softly. “I have since I was a child. I have always felt the urge to do everything I want to do quickly and freely, to live my life to the fullest every single day. It’s simply the way I am.”

  Paris knew why. He’d known why since she had been a young girl. “It’s because of those… dreams.”

  Athena nodded reluctantly. It was well known within the family that Athena had prophetic dreams at times. She was always the one to have gut feelings about a situation or tell her mother an unexpected visitor was arriving and, usually, she was right. She was the lass who saw ghosts in the castles of Northwood and Questing, who would hear things that other did not. She was a woman of many fascinating facets and not simply sword fighting.

  She seemed to live her life more hungrily than most because of it.

  “Aye, the dreams,” she said after a moment. “I’ve had dreams since I was a girl, vivid dreams of life and death and dying. I’ve died a hundred different ways in my dreams and the priests have told me that my dreams are omens while others tell me that God is speaking to me. Whatever the case, those dreams have always made me feel as if I must live every single day with vigor and curiosity and passion because one never knows what tomorrow will bring.”

  “And that is why you wish to marry Scott? To become a married woman so soon?”

  “I want to marry him because I love him. I will never love another. Please, Papa.”

  Paris looked at her. Then, he lifted his hands, cupping her face. “Hector, Apollo, and Helene were born,” he said, looking into her eyes. “And then, there was you. There was always something special about you. Mayhap it was because y
ou looked so much like your mother. When I look at you now, I see her so very clearly. Mayhap there is a part of me that always wants to keep you by my side because of it. Is that so wrong?”

  Athena smiled at him. “Nay,” she said. “It is not wrong. I will never truly leave you, Papa. Don’t you know that? I will always be your Tee, in this life or in the next. I will always be your angel.”

  “Swear it?”

  “I do.”

  He kissed her forehead and dropped his hands. Then, he stood back, looking at her torso, noticing the flowing dress, concealing her condition. He could hardly bring himself to speak the words, but there was no use avoiding the subject.

  “When are we to expect this de Wolfe offspring?” he asked.

  Athena instinctively put her hands to her belly and Paris could see, in that gesture, just how much she’d been hiding from the family. He could clearly see her rounded tummy.

  “Soon,” she said.

  “How soon?”

  “You had better let Scott and I marry in the next few weeks or this child really will be born a bastard.”

  “Does your mother know?”

  Athena shook her head. “I’ve not told her, but I think she suspects. Mama is not stupid.”

  Scott chose that moment to make an appearance. Having run all the way from the hall with Kieran on his tail, he was breathing heavily by the time he came to a stop and looked between Paris and Athena in a panic. Kieran had only told him that there was trouble in the stables and when he saw the broadsword leaning against the wall of the stall, his eyes widened.

  “What is that doing here?” he said. Then he held out a hand to Athena. “Tee, come with me, love. Get behind me. I will protect you.”

  He collected the sword, convinced that Paris was about to take the weapon to his daughter, but Paris held up a hand to calm him.

  “Be at ease,” he said. “I was not the one who wielded the weapon.”

  Scott looked at them both in confusion. “You weren’t? Then –?”

  “It was your future wife as she demanded I give you my permission to wed,” Paris said, eyeing his daughter. “She was going to kill me if I didn’t.”

  Scott stared at him for a moment as his words sank in. “My future wife?” he repeated. “Then I have your permission?”

  Paris sighed heavily. “If I do not give it, my daughter is prepared to fight me to the death, so you may have it.”

  Scott looked at Athena, who smiled brightly at him. Then, she flew at him, throwing herself into his arms as they giggled uncontrollably together. It was the joy of youth and unrestrained love. Paris didn’t know if he felt better or worse as he watched.

  “You were correct, Scott,” he said. “I was a fool. And my daughter is also correct – I am selfish. I suppose… I suppose I simply wasn’t prepared to face this moment and it made me angry. I have lost two daughters in one night and that is a great deal for any man to take. Helene and Athena have always been my special little girls and it has always been the two of them, my little blossoms, and now… now, they are becoming wives and mothers and it is difficult for me to swallow. For what I said… mayhap you will forgive me in time. I did not mean it.”

  Scott had Athena wrapped up in his arms, just where he wanted her, so he could be a little forgiving. “There is nothing to forgive, Uncle Paris,” he said. “I was angry. You were angry. I should not have said such things to you and I am sorry, too.”

  “I should not have called you an animal.”

  “My father says that it takes one to know one.”

  Paris’ eyebrows flew up in outrage, looking over at William and Kieran, who were grinning broadly. When he saw the grins, he couldn’t become too angry, mostly because they were right. That was the trouble with being close to men who had known him in his youth.

  They knew everything.

  He turned to Scott.

  “Then we are a family of animals,” he said. “But you are a fine animal. I knew you when you were born and I have watched you grow up. I am entrusting you with my daughter, mayhap the most important creature in your entire life. May she always be that to you.”

  Scott’s features were full of joy. “For always, I swear it,” he said. “Thank you, Uncle Paris. I will not disappoint you.”

  “I know,” he said, watching the pair as they ran off gleefully. He shouted after them. “But do not announce it! I will do that when I return to the hall!”

  William watched the pair flee the stable, off into the night. “They will not wait,” he said. “They are running to the hall to tell everyone.”

  Paris grunted. “I know,” he said, sighing. He grew serious. “William, I still do not want them naming their son after me, but not because I do not want the de Wolfe name. It is because that privilege is for Hector, my firstborn.”

  William shrugged. “I would not worry over it,” he said. “They only said they were going to name the child after you to gain your favor.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is. They are, in truth, going to name it after me, as it should be.”

  Paris rolled his eyes. “God,” he muttered. “Another William de Wolfe. Can we stand such a thing?”

  William grinned. “He will be the greatest knight England has ever seen,” he assured him. “He not only has de Wolfe blood, but de Norville blood. How can he not be the greatest knight?”

  Paris hadn’t thought of it from that perspective. “You are correct,” he said. “I’d not thought of it that way. A knight with those bloodlines will be invincible.”

  “Indeed,” William said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Come on – let us head to the hall so that you may confirm their announcement.”

  Paris snorted. “Or deny it,” he teased. But he quickly sobered. “I am sorry about today, William. I behaved poorly with Troy and I did it again with Scott. How do you tolerate me?”

  William glanced at Kieran, who simply shook his head. “I have no choice,” he said. “We are family.”

  “Speaking of family,” Kieran said, eyeing Paris. “Apollo has been showing far too much interest in my daughter, Moira. Tell him to stay away from her or he’ll not like my reaction.”

  Paris pointed to Kieran as he spoke to William. “Do you hear this?” he demanded. “This is exactly how I feel with the de Wolfe cubs sniffing around my daughters.”

  William didn’t support him. In fact, he frowned. “And Hector has set his sights on Evelyn,” he said, referring to Paris’ son and William’s daughter, who was barely into womanhood. “If Hector gets too close, I’ll cut off something vital. You may want to tell him.”

  Paris rolled his eyes. “I cannot believe my ears,” he said. “Have I not been stressing this very point? Men are animals!”

  William grunted. “Hector had better not be an animal if knows what’s good for him.”

  “Nor Apollo,” Kieran pointed out. “If he so much as tries to steal a kiss, I’ll take it out on his father.”

  Paris couldn’t even rise to the threat. All he could see where a pair of hypocrites. He was about to tell them so, but he just started laughing. They’d accused him of being foolish but, as it turned out, they were just as foolish.

  Possibly worse.

  The three of them argued and bickered all the way back to the great hall where Paris announced another de Wolfe wedding in the near future. Two months after that glorious and pivotal night, a fat and healthy son was born to Scott and Athena.

  Little William de Wolfe had the weight of an entire empire already riding on his tiny shoulders as his grandfathers celebrated the arrival of an heir. Little did they know how close he would come to increasing the de Wolfe empire…

  Or breaking it.

  Upon Will de Wolfe’s shoulders would come the biggest burden of all.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Carlisle Castle

  1293 A.D.

  “Keep your shield up, lad. If you lower it, an enemy will take advantage.”

  A little boy of six years was
trying desperately to listen to his father as an older boy, with more skill, cracked a wooden sword over the younger boy’s shield. The little boy swung his dull, wooden sword so hard at his opponent that the shield ended up in the dirt. He then launched himself at the older boy, trying to bring him down.

  William de Wolfe, known as Will since the day he was born, grinned at his aggressive youngest son.

  “Atticus,” he said firmly, moving to pull him off of the other lad. “Enough. You cannot attack a man because he makes you angry. You must always keep your wits about you, else your opponent will take advantage of that and kill you.”

  Atticus de Wolfe was so angry that he was starting to cry, but not wanting his father to see tears, he simply wiped at his face furiously, smearing dirt all over his cheeks.

  “He does not play fair,” he said, sniffling. “He is taller and he tries to hit me in the head.”

  Will put his hands on his hips as he faced the boy. “And you do not think you’ll face taller men in battle?” he asked. “You must learn patience, lad. You must also learn to fight with your mind more than your muscles. I have told you that before.”

  Atticus knew that, but he was still eyeing his opponent angrily. His adversary’s family was an old friend of the House of de Wolfe, bred from a long line of knights, and he was fostering with Will at the powerful and prestigious compound of Carlisle Castle. When Will wasn’t looking, Bradford Payton-Forrester stuck his tongue out at Atticus. The boy lashed out a foot and caught Bradford in the shin, sending him howling.

  The lesson was over for the day.

  Taking Atticus by the hand, Will pulled him away from his nemesis.

  “Truly, Atticus,” he scolded softly. “I am ashamed of you. What will Bo and Poppy and Bonny think of your actions?”

  He was referring to his own father, Scott de Wolfe, known as Bo, short for Bodach, to his grandchildren. It meant Old Man in Gaelic, something Scott’s Scottish mother had called him upon the birth of his first grandchild, and it had stuck. Will’s three children had Bo and Dearest as their grandparents on their father’s side, a doting grandfather and grandmother if there ever were such a pair. Bonny, of course, was Will’s grandfather on his mother’s side, and Poppy and Matha were his grandparents on his father’s side. They were all still alive and well, so Will’s children – Athena, Andrew, and Atticus – were well-supplied with grandparents and great-grandparents who spoiled them lavishly.