Wolf's Embrace

by Gail Link

  Oh God, he prayed, what must I do? Either way I choose I stand to lose. He slammed his fist against the bedpost, bruising his hand. He ignored the physical pain as the mental anguish layered upon his brain with a heavy vengeance.

  May my brother find it in his heart to forgive me for what I must do. As he has his honor, so I have mine, and must do what I feel is proper.

  A sojourn with his Welsh relatives might be prudent. He was under no illusion that his relationship with his brother would not be impaired from the day that he put his plan into action. He would take the gamble, push the risks for all their sakes, yet most especially for Rolf and the lady.

  God pray that he wasn't making an error that would result in destruction rather than resurrection.

  Chapter 21

  "There is no doubt in my mind you carry the comarba, the heir." Etain finished her examination, washing her hands in the warm water.

  Sybelle rearranged her clothes and sat up on the bed. When she spoke it was in a quiet voice. "I thought as much. My time has not come for these past two months."

  "He will be overjoyed at the news."

  Sybelle put her hand on Etain's arm. "You must swear to me that you will never tell him."

  Etain shot her a worried look. "What mean you with this request? In a few months' time there will be no need for tales, he will be able to see for himself."

  Sybelle decided to take Etain into her confidence. "I must leave here."

  Etain sat beside Sybelle on the bed. ''There is no way the Wolf will allow that I'm thinking."

  "He must not know."

  "You will never be able to flee from here without his knowledge. You will never be allowed away from this place, as well you know, unless it is in the care of someone he trusts."

  "This I know," Sybelle admitted. "Yet I have reason to believe that I have found the person who will help me."

  "Then you should say nothing to me, for I would be bound by my loyalty to tell my lord Rolf."

  Sybelle wet her lips before continuing. "I know that you and Ro . . . Killroone have been close."

  "'Twas a thing of the past."

  "It matters now, Etain." Sybelle took Etain's hand in her own. "I have felt that between us there is a bond, a friendship if you will."

  "I too have felt this."

  "I find the words difficult to say. Nevertheless, for you to understand what I am to do I must utter them. Once you spoke of an overwhelming need for one person, a bonding of the flesh and the spirit. . . . "

  Etain interrupted her. "You have felt this with my lord Rolf, have you not?"

  "This I cannot deny, Etain." Would that I could, Sybelle admitted to herself. "Honesty forbids me to seek comfort in a lie."

  "Then why do you wish to give this up?"

  "Because I can see only painmy painin such a union. I fear that I shall lose myself in him. That Sybelle Fitzgerald shall cease to exist, for I have been given no free choice in the life forced upon me." She left the bed and walked to the window, where she sat on the stone seat and faced Etain. "There is within Rolf something that I cannot deny. 'Tis against all that I have been taught, all that I have known. For me to stay is to be trapped in a web of his making." She began to play with a strand of her hair, winding it around her fingers. "I must confess to you that I have even sought out his bed."

  Etain could see how much those simple words had cost Sybelle to say. For Etain there had never been shame in seeking and embracing her desires. She could read the confusion and the anguish these words caused Sybelle. She was a proud woman caught in a snare that tore at her, ripping at her sense of decorum, at her sense of who she was.

  "Do you wish me to give you a potion that will relieve you of the child?" It was against Etain's better judgment in this instance, but she thought that perhaps without the child Sybelle would feel more in control of at least this little part of her existence.

  Sybelle's head snapped up quickly. Her hands went protectively to her stomach, as if to ward off any harm to the unborn babe. "No. Never. 'Tis not the fault of the child. It is innocent in this matter."

  Etain went to her and gathered Sybelle in her arms, offering her succor. She knew then what she would do, what she had to do. "I will help you, Sybelle," she said quietly.

  "I know 'tis a burden that I place on you; that I ask of you to do that with which you do not agree. Words cannot express what you have given me. Yet I would not have you put yourself in any danger from Killroone."

  "Fear not for me. I can handle what I must."

  Sybelle asked, "You will say nothing of the child?"

  "He has a right to know. The babe is his also."

  Sybelle nodded. "Of that fact I am aware. But if he knew about this child, do you not think that he would do all in his considerable power to keep me here? No one must know."

  "My mother suspects."

  "Aye, I am aware. She has said odd things to me lately about wanting and needing strange foods." Sybelle smiled in a shy manner. "I have asked her for some items not normally served. And she has seen me in the morning when the illness is upon me."

  "That should not last much longer, I think," Etain said. "What of when you return to your family? Have you given thought to what their reaction will be when you come back swelling with the bastard child of your abductor? Shall you be greeted with love or with shame?"

  "Aye, I have thought on this. My lord father will welcome me back and abide by my decision."

  "You are sure, my lady?"

  "Without a doubt. I am secure in his love for me."

  "'Tis hoping I am that you won't regret this." Etain withdrew her arms from around Sybelle and went to pour them both a cup of spiced wine. She returned with the silver cup, extending her hand to Sybelle. "You will be an outcast from general society."

  Sybelle drank from the cup, draining the contents. "I have never sought the useless frivolities of Edward's court. In fact, my father has protected me from the harshness to be found there by insisting that my sisters and myself remain as much as possible on our estates. So you see, to be bereft of that court is no hardship for me at all."

  "What of the babe?"

  "What of it?"

  "Will you see that it has a proper life after you have given birth?"

  "Think you that I will abandon my child?"

  "Nay. You could never do that, Sybelle. However, the babe will be a constant reminder to you of its father. Many in your circumstances would provide well for the child from a distance."

  "Give it up? Place it in foster care?"

  "'Tis often the lot of the bastard child."

  "Would you do that?"

  Etain smiled, amusement evident. "In Ireland we hold no circumstance of birth against a child. Here, the babe has a right of inheritance no matter how conceived. The child is simply accepted. 'Tis a lot simpler I'm thinking than your complicated system."

  "Mayhap you are right. I do not know." She touched her belly again. "Only this, I shall not give away my babe. 'Tis part of my flesh also, and as I have estates of my own, it shall be my heir."

  "And his father's heir as well."

  Sybelle chose to ignore that remark. Lugh rose from his position at the fire and padded over to the door, ears alert.

  Sybelle knew that someone was coming. She crossed to the door and swung it wide. Standing there was Bran.

  "Come inside, my lord."

  Sybelle shut the door as Bran patted Lugh's head. The wolfhound responded by licking the man's large, slim hand.

  The room was dim and he didn't see Etain. "I am here to give you my answer."

  At that moment Etain made herself known. "Perhaps you would wish me to leave you two alone?" she asked.

  "Etain?" Bran was surprised.

  "Yes, my lord Branduff. She is aware of my plans for escape. She will help."

  Bran threw Etain a puzzled look. He knew of Etain's feelings for his brother, of her strong loyalty to Killroone. "It seems as though we are of a conspiracy then. So be it." He sound
ed resigned. "My brother has given us the means by which we may execute our leavetaking. On the next day hence I am to take ship for Wales to oversee some business that involves family property there. We shall manage to sneak you on board somehow."

  "That shouldn't be difficult to manage with my assistance," Etain volunteered.

  "I shall devise a plan to get Rolf away so that we can do this."

  Etain spoke. "That won't be necessary. Trust me to arrange what is needed." Her pale blue eyes sparkled with a quick plan. "The Lady Sybelle and I will switch clothes. I shall ride in that morning and she will ride out with you."

  Bran stroked his chin. "It might just work." He skimmed his gaze over the taller, blonde woman. "You are of a different coloring and size."

  "A cape will hide the differences. No one will be paying attention for they will be expecting to see me."

  "Agreed."

  Bran touched Etain's smooth cheek in a soft caress. "Are you certain?"

  She shared a smile, closing her eyes for a moment and relaxing against his hand. "Do not fear for me, for mine will not be the action that will wound Killroone most."

  Bran's smile was bitter-sweet. "Think you that I am not aware of that? I shall not be returning to Ireland for a time."

  Sybelle grasped his hand and kissed the slender palm. Her tears of gratitude wet his flesh. "Thank you," was all she managed to say, knowing that anything else would be superfluous.

  "There is something else that needs to be said. This day Killroone had word from Lady Duvessa."

  Sybelle nodded. "I was on my way for lessons with Tadgh when I saw her lady-in-waiting arrive. What had she to say?"

  Bran was glad now that he had taken the letter and read it. It hardened his resolve to return Sybelle to her family. Duvessa's plea was poignant and touched his heart. There had been enough bad blood between the families. And now that they were united through marriage, there must be no more disharmony. "That she is married to your father."

  Sybelle gasped. "They are wed?"

  "'Twould appear so."

  "I knew that my lord father would not have harmed the lady." She felt her love and faith in Derran vindicated. She poured another cup of wine for herself. "Shall we drink to the Lord Killroone's inestimable sense of justice?"

  Chapter 22

  Finally arriving at his destination, Robin entered the secured grounds of Castle Derran. He quickly threw the reins of his very tired, well-lathered horse to a waiting groom and ran to the Great Hall, where he saw the questioning face of Sir John as he sat before the huge fireplace. A small table had been set there for his use; it was strewn with maps and documents.

  "What answer have you?" he bellowed, throwing down the thick vellum he'd been reading. He sat back in his chair, waiting for the youth to approach him.

  Robin saw the deep lines of concern on the face of the man he served.

  "Have you seen the Lady Sybelle?"

  Robin drew a deep breath. "Aye, Sir John," he said, sinking into the seat Sir John indicated he take. A hovering servant was dispatched to bring him a mug of ale. "She seemed quite healthy, and has been well cared for, inasmuch as I could tell." The ubiquitous servant handed him the tankard of foaming ale and he drank. "As to the answer," he continued, wiping his mouth on his woolen sleeve, "I do not think our lord earl will be much pleased.''

  "Why?" asked the gruff voice.

  "The Lord Killroone has decided, I was told, to keep the Lady Sybelle hostage until he renders a decision in a month's time."

  "Damn him," Sir John said wearily.

  The messenger added to his tale. "There is more." He swallowed another large gulp of his beverage.

  "What ?"

  "A curious occurrence happened whilst I was there. When I was making to leave that place, I saw another arrival at the keep. 'Twas the personal lady of the countess."

  The bushy brows on Sir John's face rose, arching. "Are you certain?"

  "Aye," Robin responded. "'Twas sure that I am that it was she. I watched in secret so that she was unaware that one from Derran's household was there."

  "Then 'twould appear that the countess is in communication with her cousin against my lord's strict orders." He rubbed his jaw reflectively.

  "What will you do?" Robin signalled for a refill.

  "The earl must know."

  "Shall we leave for England now? Or do you wish me to go on alone?"

  "We shall leave in the morning. The earl's ship awaits us in Dublin." Sir John drained most of the contents of his cup. "Tonight there is some unfinished business that must be seen to first."

  At that moment a guard entered the room. "Sir John, the prisoner is as you wish him."

  "Good," he said with a cunning smile. "I will attend him in a few moments."

  The man turned on his booted heel and left the room.

  Sir John's face was harsh in the soft light. Robin had seen that look before. It did not bode well for the person against whom it was directed.

  "My lord earl will not be pleased that some agreement regarding his daughter could not be reached." He drank the remainder of the fine Irish whiskey in his cup. "No, he will not be pleased at all." He once again ran his hand across the stuble of beard on his jaw.

  He got up from his seat and dismissed Robin. "Rest you well, for 'tis for England we be on the morn."

  «»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»

  The dungeon was dark. A torch lit the way for Sir John.

  "He's in here," indicated the guard of a cell which was in complete blackness.

  "Has he spoken yet?"

  "No, Sir John. He hasn't said a word, 'ceptin' to say that he was innocent."

  "That holds no surprises for me. Open the door."

  The guard did as he was commanded. Sir John entered the dank cell. It had been unused and smelled as such.

  "Well, Emond, have you had a chance to reflect on your actions?" He held the torch aloft.

  The flame shone on the weasel face of the man who had given his account of the taking of the Lady Sybelle. He shut his eyes, for the illumination of the torch hurt them. He had been confined to this place for almost a day, without food, water, or light. Emond could hear the sounds of the small, furry cohabitants of his cell. He was shivering from the cold and the damp, anxious to leave.

  "I'll tell ye whatever 'tis that ye be wanting to know, my lord."

  "Just tell me of your role in the abduction of the Lady Sybelle Fitzgerald."

  "Ye know my part, your worship. I told ye how it was that night."

  Sir John signalled to the guard, and the prisoner suddenly found himself with his bony arms in the chains that were attached to the walls.

  "I am losing what little patience I have. Tell me."

  Emond sensed the fury in the man-at-arms. He began to tremble violently. "I don't know what ye want."

  Sir John removed his dagger from its sheath and stroked it lovingly. "Oh, but I think you do."

  "What's wrong?" His voice was a whine, shrill and small. "Haven't I told ye what ye wanted to know that other time? What in the name of the blessed Jesus are ye tryin' to do to me? Ain't I a god-fearin' man?"

  "I don't give a damn what you are, my good fellow. I want only to know your part in the incident."

  Emond now understood that there was no chance of mercy from this man, so he thought he would bargain for his release. Anything to escape the severe eyes that imposed fear in him.

  Before he could talk, Sir John approached him, placing the blade against his lower extremities. The blade was stroking him intimately, the weight of it pressing against the meager measure of his maleness. Emond sucked in his breath as he recognized the threat. He whimpered in fear. "No, do not. I beg ye." The tears began to form in his watery eyes.

  Sir John smiled. "Then tell me what I want to know."

  "I . . . I . . . the Earl of Killroone forced me to do his bidding. Said that he would kill me and my family if I didn't help him with his plans. 'Tis the honest truth."


  Sir John doubted this scum knew the meaning of the word honest. "Were you paid anything for this help?"

  Again the weight of the dagger was heavy against him. "On my honor I was not."

  "Then why did you not tell me as soon as he left?"

  "I was sorely afraid of the Wolf, that I was."

  "Is that the truth?"

  "Oh, most certainly." He managed a weak smile, thinking that Sir John was beginning to believe him.

  "Then you were a fool," Sir John said sharply. "You should have been afraid of the Earl of Derran's man."

  "Killroone made me!"

  Sir John sneered. "You are a liar," and struck him across the face.

  "No, 'tis true. I am a loyal man."

  "We have proof otherwise."

  "Who accuses me?" Emond demanded, fear in his voice coloring his tone.

  Sir John snapped his fingers. At the door of the cell a woman appeared. Emond's wife. "This man," he pointed to the quivering figure, "is your husband?"

  "Aye," was the reply.

  "Then tell him what you told me."

  She stepped forward and looked into the face of the man she had called husband for almost twenty yearstwenty years of being treated like a creature fit only for his pleasure and comfort, with never a kind word or a care, lest it be for his own concern. She had endured for the sake of her children and could have endured the rest of her life if need be, yet she could not allow him to profit from the harm to one who always treated her with kindness.

  "He bragged to me," she said, "that he was gettin' coin from his arrangements with the nobility. I asked him who he knew that would be givin' money to the likes of him. I was told to mind my own business." As she stepped closer to the light of the torch that the guard held in one hand, faded bruises could still be seen on her face, a face which had once been considered fair and gentle. ''He said that the Wolf was a generous man, and that he thought it a grand joke that he could be gettin' coin also from my lord Derran."