Alfric’s eyebrows rose. Issy folded her hands and waited for the other woman to vent. She wondered now if the situation would have run smoother without Alfric. He seemed to have exacerbated things somewhat.
“Jealousy!” yelled Bronwen with satisfaction. “Both of you know that Jorah regrets his choice of bride! He was mad to bring a human back here!”
Alfric snorted as Issy forced herself not to react despite her heart plummeting to her slippered feet.
“Rubbish,” he pronounced scornfully. “You’re the jealous one. Jorah’s never given you a second look.”
Bronwen rounded on him angrily, her lips pulling back to show her pointed teeth as she all but snarled.
“And you’re jealous too,” she hissed. “Everyone knows how you feel about Baris! You couldn’t bear how popular he was with the pack females! And once you left, he turned back to us … As you feared he would!”
Alfric narrowed his eyes, but Issy forestalled his response.
“That is also untrue,” she put in loudly. “Everyone knows Baris has kept his vow of celibacy. Ran told me so. And you yourself blamed Baris for the women leaving as he neglected them. You can’t have it both ways Bronwen.”
Bronwen’s jaw dropped as Alfric’s head whipped around to stare at her.
“Not quite so oblivious as you make out, are you!” Bronwen retorted bitterly.
“I’m not oblivious at all,” Issy answered solemnly.
“I’ll pack my things,” she muttered angrily. “The Canagan pack will be glad to have me.”
Alfric stood back from the door as she whirled out in a blur of fury.
“Good riddance,” he muttered, but he kept his eyes trained steadily on Isolde.
She sighed.
“It’s a shame for the pack to lose its last female member,” she tutted. “But I don’t think she’d have been happy here. Not really.”
Alfric pursed his lips.
“She only hung around out of ambition. All her friends left months ago. We’ll rebuild the pack.”
“Yes, I’m sure you will.”
Alfric opened his mouth but then closed it again.
“How did you-?”
“Know about you and Baris?”
He nodded.
“Um, it was kind of obvious you belonged to each other. Back at the inn,” she reminded him. “When you grabbed his wrist…”
Alfric winced.
“I wasn’t sure you ‘d pick up on it…” he admitted. “But as Bronwen remarked, you are quite observant.”
She smiled.
“Can you .. mate each other?” When he stared back at her with troubled eyes she apologised. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into pack business…”
“It’s not that,” he answered swiftly. “It’s just… not everyone is so open-minded about same sex pairings. But yes, we could be mates. I just… wasn’t sure if I could trust him. So I’ve held back.”
Isolde nodded.
“But if you were mated, then he would have to stay true isn’t that so?”
“It is, but that wasn’t good enough for me. I wanted to know he was dependable. That he could stay faithful. That I could depend on him.”
“And he did.”
“So it would seem,” agreed Alfric. “Although he did seek me out a few times in between.”
“I wonder if that was one of the reasons he left Varkash in the end,” pondered Issy. “It would have been difficult trying to live down his reputation whilst keeping his vow. Also, as a roaming sword for hire, he could hook up with you every so often at least.”
Alfric looked startled.
“I never really thought of that,” he admitted. “Ran really said that about Baris being faithful?”
“Yes, he said he shunned all the females though he didn’t really understand why his brother had turned celibate.”
Alfric laughed suddenly looking as though a weight was off his shoulders.
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Please call me Isolde.”
“Isolde.” He paused. “I wasn’t convinced, when Jorah was so adamant he would take you to wife. But now I know he was right. That you were right, for this place.”
Issy stared back at him, oddly touched by his words.
“Thank you Alfric,” she said softly. “That means a lot to me. I know you and Jorah are very close and how highly he prizes your opinion.”
A soft knock on the door made them both jump. Matilda poked her head around the door.
“Please my lady, I’ve a gentleman here requesting an audience with you.”
“With me?” she asked astonished. “Who is it?”
“A local farmer,” she hesitated shooting a look at Alfric. “A Mr Gideon Roper.”
Alfric frowned.
“He asked for Lady Mallon-Garth?”
“Yes, sir.”
Alfric shot Issy a startled look.
“Have you been introduced to Mr Roper?” he asked.
“No… At least.” She looked at Matilda. “Isn’t Dilys’ surname Roper?”
Matilda bobbed a curtsey.
“This is her uncle milady.”
“Then send him in Matilda,” answered Isolde resolutely ignoring Alfric’s look of displeasure. “I believe Dilys is estranged from her family,” she said by way of explanation. “And Matilda, that position I spoke to you about?”
Matilda’s eyes flew wide.
“H-housekeeper milady?”
“Yes indeed. The position is now vacant and I would be very happy if you would take it. We can discuss the raise in salary and your own private quarters later.”
Matilda turned pink.
“Thank you so much my lady!” she gasped. “You don’t know how much this means to me!”
“You are extremely deserving of it Matilda. Indeed you have already been doing the job to the best of your abilities for some time now.”
Isolde crossed the room to take a seat in the chair by the fireplace as Alfric shifted uneasily in his position by the door.
“Isolde, I think this farmer is here to speak about a different matter other than Dilys,” he said. “Jorah will not be pleased when he hears of this.”
Isolde’s eyebrows rose.
“What makes you think that?”
“I think it’s pack business he’s here about.”
“I thought he was human?” Isolde frowned as she heard footsteps approaching down the corridor.
“He is,” sighed Alfric looking resigned. “It’s his grandsons who are not.”
She realised she could make out smaller footfalls along with the larger measured strides.
“Steady boys,” came the farmer’s deep country burr as a quick knock on the door announced their arrival.
“Come in,” called Isolde. Her curious gaze was met by two apple-cheeked young boys and a stout older gentleman who dragged off his cap and regarded her with frank open appraisal.
“Am I h’addressing Lady Mallon-Garth?” he asked abruptly.
“Indeed you are,” she told him with a smile. “I am happy to make your acquaintance.”
He gave a stiff bow, asking his grandsons something out of the corner of his mouth. To Issy it sounded like he said ‘Well, is she?’.
“Yep she be yuman all right,” answered one of the boys huskily.
Alfric gave a faint warning growl and they both stared at him with round earnest eyes.
“But he bain’t!” whispered the other one loudly.
“Er, please take a seat, Mr Roper isn’t it?”
“That’s right,” he said cautiously. “How do ee know that?”
“You were announced. And I think I know your niece. A very hard-working girl and a highly prized member of our staff.”
“Aye Dilys,” he agreed lowering himself into a seat. The two boys lolled on the arms of his seat comfortably where they directed curious gazes around the room. “She’s the one who told me about you,” he admitted.
“Dilys?”
“Ye
s. Told me as her new mistress was human and very kind.”
Isolde smiled again.
“I’m glad to hear you are still in touch. Dilys told me relations with her family were … strained.”
“Aye, well. Dilys is my sister’s child. They cast her off when she took up with them stable hands,” he admitted. “I don’t say as they were right to do that but … after what happened with my Elayne I can’t say as I blame them.”
“Elayne was our Mum,” put in one of the boys at this point.
“She died when we was born,” added the other.
“Oh I’m sorry to hear that boys,” Issy replied quickly.
“Me and the wife raised ‘em. They’ve all we got left! Their father, he didn’t want to know. Never even come to see her buried!” Mr Roper’s hand shook as he retrieved a large handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose.
Issy shot a helpless look at Alfric, he looked stiff and awkward but seeing Issy’s face he cleared his throat.
“Their father..?”
“Long gone,” Roper answered bluntly. “Took off three years ago for parts unknown. Gemel his name was.”
Issy saw Alfric’s shoulders relax. Had he been scared they were Baris’ Issy wondered looking at the two sturdy little boys.
“It’d break the missus’ heart if they was taken away from us.”
“Taken away?” Issy stared at him in confusion. “Who would do that?”
“Your husband that’s who.”
“Now just wait a minute Roper…” interjected Alfric swiftly.
Issy sat up straight in her seat.
“My husband?” She stared at the two dark-haired little boys trying to see any resemblance to her own golden husband. “But you said their father’s name was Gemel?”
“That it were.”
“You don’t understand my lady,” Alfric was telling her urgently. “Let me explain.”
“Those boys,” she said cutting through his words as a horrible realisation struck. “The new pages in the South wing. Have they been taken from their families?” Suddenly the dejected looking children trailing around in Baris’ wake the last couple of weeks made sense. Jorah had told her it was pack business and to pay it no mind. Her blood ran cold.
“Yes, but they’re werewolves,” argued Alfric. “They belong here at the Keep.”
“They belong with their families who love ‘em!” shouted Mr Roper. “Ain’t that right boys? You wants to stay with your gran and granpappy ain’t that right?”
“S’right!” the two little boys growled low in their throats.
Issy stood up, crossing the floor of the room with a fixed smile on her face.
“Mr Roper would you be so kind as to remain here while I go in search of my husband? I will have some refreshment brought to you here. Boys, do you like currant cake?”
They both nodded.
“I’ll have some brought to you,” she nodded at Matilda who hurried away to fetch them some repast. Alfric was directly behind her,
“Isolde, Issy..” he appealed to her desperately.
“Where is Jorah?” she asked without even turning her head.
“He’s meeting with Baris and Cedric in the West tower. It’s pack business…”
Issy raised a hand to forestall him.
“I’m afraid I’m no longer going to back down when someone utters those words at me Alfric,” she said quiety but with a steely undertone. He lapsed into silence but kept up with her as she strode in the direction of the west tower.
Jorah was pouring over the plans of the surrounding land while his uncle explained the south boundary placement when the door burst open and Issy sailed in without checking on the threshold. He gaped. His uncle lowered his eyeglasses.
“Ah, this must be my new niece,” Cedric observed blandly but no-one was listening.
“A word if you please, my lord?” Issy asked brightly. Too brightly, her eyes had a frozen look about them that instantly put him on his guard.
“We’re in the middle of pack business Isolde,” he frowned, his gaze sliding to Alfric who had entered directly after her. His beta had a slightly panicked look on his face which was unusual for the unflappable Alfric. He turned back to Issy and found she was tapping her foot against the flagstone. Actually tapping her foot at him!
“It won’t wait,” she answered shortly.
“Like my brother said,” rumbled Baris. “We’re in the middle-“
Issy’s hand shot up for silence and damn if his brother’s words didn’t freeze on his tongue! The look on Baris’ face was priceless.
“What is it?” Jorah asked narrowing his gaze.
“Oh, It’s about those children you’ve stolen from their families,” she said calmly. “I’d like you to give them back please. Now.”
There was utter silence in the room. He could hear someone breathing too loudly and frowned before realising it was himself. The spell was broken.
“This must be hard for you to understand as a human,” started Baris condescendingly.
Jorah wheeled around and slammed his palm into his brother’s shoulder.
“Did I ask you to speak for me?” he asked menacingly.
Baris met his gaze, his own only wavering slightly.
“No,” he admitted.
“Then kindly shut the fuck up Baris,” he roared.
His brother inclined his head and Jorah turned back to face his wife. She looked completely unruffled by their exchange. Jorah expelled a breath.
“This is difficult to explain…” he began.
“Not really,” she cut in. “I take it they’re the bastard offspring of your pack with unmated human females.”
He felt like she’d punched him right in the gut.
“Dear me, she’s very to the point isn’t she?” commented Cedric. “Fascinating. I wish I’d come up to the Keep sooner to meet her now.”
“Yes that would have been the courteous thing to do,” agreed Issy with a sweet smile.
Jorah reeled, realising she’d just rebuked the oldest member of his family on his manners. He had to work hard not to let his jaw drop. Baris made a choking sound and Jorah swept around to give him a nasty glare.
“The fact is,” he started again willing himself to remain calm. “That the offspring of such unions are not often wanted by their human mothers…”.
“That’s bullshit Jorah,” she plunked a hand on her hip. “None of these children were left at your gate. You forced their families to give them up to make up your pack numbers.” Her lip curled on the last few words. “And even if they had been, how do you know their mothers wanted to give them up? Do you really imagine they had a choice? Or do you just not care?”
Jorah struggled with a come back. She had just sworn at him! In front of everyone! He almost wished he hadn’t silenced Baris now as he floundered for words.
“It’s not that cut and dried,” he protested sounding weak even to his own ears. “They need to be taught the pack way, how to hunt, how to defend themselves. How can humans teach them that?”
“I don’t know, with your help perhaps?” she suggested. “You could tutor the boys here at the Keep once or twice a week. That seems a far more sensible solution and one I’m surprised none of you could reach together.” She cast a disparaging look over Baris and Cedric as well as himself. Jorah took a deep breath even as she turned to Geoffrey who was stood in attendance by the door. His eyes were wide with surprise.
“Could you please fetch Mr Roper and his two grandsons here please Geoffrey?”
His squire nodded and left without even looking to him for confirmation of the order! “Mr Roper will be here any minute with his two excellent grandsons who he dearly cherishes. I want you to look at them Jorah and to make an honest decision as to whether you think being brought up by humans has made them deficient somehow. For my part I believe them to be very sturdy, well-adjusted young boys.” She cast a stern look at the others. “I will expect you to make every effort to make Mr Rope
r feel at his ease.”
Baris stirred awkwardly and Cedric cleared his throat.
“But of course, my dear niece,” he agreed affably.
“You too Alfric,” she added quietly.
“I’ve already seen enough,” his beta shrugged. “I’m with you - they’re far better off at home.”
Jorah glared at him in disbelief. Alfric spread his hands and Jorah remembered belatedly that his own beta was a foundling raised by the pack. He had not thought of that he realised uncomfortably. Mere moments later the twins entered with their grandfather who was clutching his hat fitfully.
“Roper,” he greeted him reluctantly.
“My Lord. Make your bows to his lordship, you little bleeders!” he whispered loudly at the two bruisers staring around them in blatant curiosity. Their eyes flickered to Jorah without much interest.
“Boys, this is my husband Lord Mallon-Garth. He leads the pack here at Varkash,” Issy told them kindly. “And because you’re special you have a place in his pack. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Yus missus,” agreed one of them wiping the back of his arm across his nose.
The other one just shrugged and wrapped an arm around his grandfather’s knee.
“What do you think about maybe coming along to the Keep once a week to find out all about being members of the pack boys?” suggested Issy.
Jorah watched as the old man’s gaze fixed on her with painful intensity.
“Once a week?” he echoed hoarsely. “And they’d be allowed to come home?”
“What do you think boys?” asked Issy. “I think your grandfather would feel more assured knowing you were still around the farm.”
“If’n anyone was to try and hurt our grandpa we’d fight ‘em,” growled Gilby bunching up his fists, his hackles rising and his eyes gleaming suddenly yellow.
His brother came to stand by his side immediately part-shifting so his teeth came down.
“We’d fight anyone,” he snarled, backing up his brother. “Anyone who threatened our kin.” He cast a mean look at Jorah who had to bite back a grudging smile at his gameness. Well, they certainly weren’t cowed, he’d give them that much.
Uncle Cedric chuckled.
“Well, there goes our theory that being raised by humans makes you soft,” he said slapping his thigh.
“And see how they’re shifting like that,” acknowledged Baris grudgingly. “None of the cubs here at the Keep have mastered that.”
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