WolfeSword: de Wolfe Pack Generations

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WolfeSword: de Wolfe Pack Generations Page 12

by Kathryn Le Veque


  Cassius was the reason.

  Considering they hadn’t spoken since he’d delivered the fateful compliment that had sent her spiraling into confusion, she was quite aware that she was glad to see him but also terrified at the same time. Considering the way she’d reacted last night, she was certain he thought her ungrateful and rude. She didn’t think she’d be seeing him so soon, so she hadn’t had the opportunity to work up her courage to seek him out and apologize for her behavior, but she knew they might not have another perfect opportunity like this one. They were alone and he would soon be leaving.

  There might not be another chance.

  “I have forgiven him for pushing me into the river,” she said after a moment. “Mayhap he senses that.”

  Argos burped again and stretched out on the grass. Cassius shook his head at his lazy, rude dog.

  “Mayhap he does,” he said. “Even so, I will relieve you of his burden. He needs a proper meal and some sleep, as do I.”

  He whistled for the dog, who simply raised his head, looked at him, and laid back down again. Cassius frowned as Dacia looked over at the mutt, fighting off a grin.

  “He does not obey very well, does he?” she said.

  Cassius grunted. “Usually, he does,” he said. “Again, I can only imagine that he has taken a great liking to you and I apologize if he is being an annoyance. I will lock him in my chamber from now on.”

  She turned her head slightly again, still keeping her face turned away. “I am sure that is not necessary,” she said. “He is not being an annoyance.”

  Cassius wasn’t going to argue with her. “Suit yourself,” he said. “When you tire of him, put him in the stables near my charger. He’ll remain there until I come for him.”

  He turned to leave and Dacia summoned her courage. She could see this moment slipping away and she didn’t want it to.

  She had something to say.

  “Wait,” she said quickly, hearing his footsteps come to a halt. “I… I would like a moment of your time, if you would be so kind.”

  She could hear him draw in a long breath, perhaps fortifying himself for another unpleasant conversation like the one last night.

  “I am at your service, my lady,” he said neutrally.

  Dacia was still cutting on the dragonwort even though she had enough. She simply didn’t want to look up at him.

  At least, not yet.

  Speaking her mind was harder than she thought.

  “I… I wanted to apologize for my manners last night,” she finally said, putting bunches of the dragonwort in a pile next to her. “You were kind and I reacted poorly. I should not have insinuated you were telling me untruths when you… when you spoke of…”

  She still couldn’t bring herself to say it. Cassius folded his big arms over his chest.

  “When I told you that I thought you were beautiful?”

  She nodded quickly. Sighing heavily, she put down the knife and rocked back on her heels.

  “It is simply that no one has ever told me that,” she said quietly. “You must understand, Sir Cassius… the marks on my face developed at a young age. My nurse, Mother Mary, was convinced that a demon was trying to possess me, so I’ve simply learned to cover them. All I’ve ever done is cover them. I am afraid to let anyone see them because they are so ugly. That is why when you… said that to me, I have never heard it before and I reacted poorly. I have often dreamed of being like other women, of having fair skin that is considered beautiful, but I am afraid it is only a dream. At least, it was until you told me that you thought I was beautiful. Now I am afraid to believe it, but I thank you just the same for your kindness in saying so.”

  She couldn’t see Cassius’ face as he looked at the back of her head, a faint smile on his lips and his eyes glimmering with warmth.

  “Will you do something for me, my lady?” he asked softly.

  She nodded. “If I can.”

  “I want you to stand up.”

  Dacia was puzzled, but she did as he asked, hesitantly. She was still facing away from him as she heard him come up behind her. Her heart, which had momentarily calmed, was now thumping so loudly that she could hear it in her ears. His presence behind her made her feel so giddy that her head was starting to swim.

  “Now,” he murmured. “Turn around and look at me.”

  She started to move but quickly came to a halt. Her entire body began to tremble. “I… I cannot. I am not covered.”

  “I know. Turn around and look at me.”

  She wanted to. God knew, she did. But she was terrified.

  The tears began to pool.

  “I… I cannot.”

  Cassius could tell that she was close to weeping. “Please, Dacia,” he whispered. “Turn around and look at me.”

  She stood there for a moment. But very slowly, she began to move. With the pace of a snail, she managed to turn around, all the way around, with her head lowered and tears dripping off her chin. She couldn’t stop them. Cassius found himself looking at the top of her head, the tip of her nose, and little more.

  Reaching out, he tipped her head up until she was looking him fully in the face.

  Those magnificent blue eyes, filled with tears, gazed back at him with panic. He could see how frightened she was, her naked face for all to see. But he smiled at her to let her know that there was nothing to be frightened of as he reached up, pushing a stray lock of dark hair from her face and wiping the tears that had streaked down her face. It was a sweet and gentle action.

  Very closely, he looked at her.

  “I see nothing imperfect,” he murmured. “I see a beautiful young woman with the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. I see smooth, soft skin. I see lovely lips.”

  Her lower lip began to tremble and her eyes spilled over again. “But… but the spots…”

  His smile grew. “Let me explain something to you,” he said. “In nature, many creatures have spots. Dogs, cats, birds, even horses. Now, a horse of one color is an unexciting thing. Boring. It’s the horses with spots and blazes that are truly interesting and beautiful. And flowers; when you see a flower with many colors, does that not make it the most interesting and beautiful of all of God’s creations? Of course it does. We see plain creatures and flowers every day. They are nothing special. But when we see creatures with spots and streaks, or flowers with multiple colors, it makes me think that God was in fine form when he created them. They are his most beautiful of all creatures because he was showing his talent when he made them. Just like he was showing his talent when he made you, Lady Dacia. You are one of his magnificent creatures.”

  By the time he was finished, her tears were gone and she was looking at him in awe. Her hand came up to touch her face, where she knew the freckles were, stunned by his words.

  “No one has ever said that to me,” she muttered. “I’ve only had others tell me I was a witch, and girls I thought were my friend tell me that I was ugly.”

  “Don’t you know why?” he asked with feigned incredulity. “Because they are jealous, my lady. Don’t ever believe them. I have known my share of women to know exactly how they are when faced with a creature that outshines them. Jealousy overtakes them. That is the only reason they said such things to you.”

  Shocked, she pondered that for a moment because the concept had genuinely never occurred to her. “Do you really think so?”

  “I really think so.” Eyes glimmering, he shook his head faintly. “Do not ever cover yourself up again when you see me, please? I consider it a privilege to see you as God meant you to be seen – one of his best creations.”

  There were those words again, giving her hope. This man she’d only known a couple of days had given her more hope than men she’d known a lifetime, her grandfather included. That hope reminded her of why she was out by the river in the first place. Weakly, she gestured to the pile of dragonwort she had collected.

  “I came out here to collect an herb that was part of a recipe I found,” she said. “I ha
ve some old Arabic treatises and one says to use dragonwort to… well, it helps with the skin.”

  “Helps it do what?”

  Now, she was embarrassed with her admission. “Helps to fade skin spots.”

  “I see,” he nodded, looking over to the pile of herbs next to his sleeping dog. “Have you tried it before?”

  “Never. I never saw any reason to before.”

  He looked at her, a glimmer of mirth in his eye. “But you have a reason now?”

  Her cheeks turned bright red and she lowered her head. “I thought… it could not hurt.”

  His lips tugged with a smile. “Who is this reason, Lady Dacia?” he asked, teasing her gently. “Is it anyone I know? You must tell me so that I can fight him for your affection.”

  She grinned. He saw it. But she put her hand to her flaming cheek and turned away, back to her herbs.

  “It does not matter,” she said.

  Cassius was smiling broadly. “It matters a great deal,” he said. “I will challenge him. Give me his name immediately.”

  “He will not fight you.”

  “Why not?”

  “He is too lazy.”

  Cassius started to laugh. “A lazy lover? What a horrible man.”

  Hearing him laugh made her giggle. “I did not say it was a man,” she said. “If you must know, it is Argos. He likes me so much so I thought I should make myself more presentable with recipes to fade these spots.”

  Cassius continued to smile as he looked at his dog, now on his back in the sun. “Argos likes you just as you are,” he said. “He does not need for you to fade anything on his account. But if you feel as if you want to, then do as you please. He wants you to be happy.”

  Dacia bent over, collecting the herbs and putting them in her pockets. “It might make me feel as if I could go without my veils and not be stared at.”

  “If you are being stared at, it is because you are beautiful. Not because you have freckles.”

  She turned to look at him, smiling at the compliment for the very first time, and Cassius could see that she had big dimples in each cheek. It was absolutely charming. More and more, he found himself enamored with her.

  Attracted to her.

  Suddenly, he was very glad he was staying on.

  “I will thank you for saying so this time and not call you a liar,” she said. “I may even come to believe you someday.”

  “I hope you do,” he said. “And I am glad we are on speaking terms again because it seems that I am going to be staying on a little while, at the request of your grandfather. I should like our continued association to be pleasant.”

  Her smile faded as she looked at him curiously. “Oh?” she said. “Why should he ask you to stay?”

  Cassius didn’t want to tell her all of it. He didn’t want to frighten her. “Because of the attack last night,” he said. “He seems to think I can help with your neighbor problem, so I have agreed to remain until it is solved.”

  “That could take more than a week or two.”

  That didn’t displease Cassius in the least to hear that. With a cock of his head, he simply shrugged his shoulders in a coy gesture that was both sincere and flirtatious.

  He was quite adept at such things.

  “Only if I’m lucky, my lady,” he said softly. “Only if I’m very lucky.”

  The way he said it made Dacia blush furiously once more. She was about to reply when they both heard the cry from the sentries go up. Thinking that it was, perhaps, another raiding party sighted, Cassius grabbed Dacia by the hand and raced with her back to the postern gate where the gate guards were preparing to lock it. They just made it through, with Argos right behind them, before the men slammed the two iron gates shut and bolted them.

  They soon discovered that what the sentries sighted wasn’t a raiding party.

  It was much, much worse.

  Amata had arrived.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Hagg Crag

  “I want Edenthorpe.”

  Catesby looked at Marcil in shock. “What’s this?” he asked, aghast. “You want Edenthorpe?”

  Marcil nodded. He was dirty and exhausted from being up all night and in no mood to negotiate with Catesby. He was resolute in what he wanted, so this was going to be an interesting exchange. There would be no negotiation.

  He seriously wondered if Catesby was going to survive it.

  “I do,” he said, moving to Catesby’s table where a pitcher of stale wine sat. He didn’t even hunt for a cup; he simply downed it straight from the neck before licking his lips. “I have spent all night looking at that beastly fortress and with eighty-one men, it will be quite difficult to secure it. Therefore, if I am going to capture this castle, then I want the castle itself.”

  Catesby faced off against Marcil in his low-ceilinged solar, having failed to notice that a few of Marcil’s men had trickled in through the door. He was only focused on the greedy mercenary and the man’s ridiculous declaration.

  “The castle is mine,” he said sternly. “That is why I brought you here, Clabecq. You will help me gain that castle once and for all and then I shall share the spoils with you. That was the deal.”

  Marcil eyed him. “That deal has changed,” he said. “You failed to tell me how big and how impenetrable it was. You lied to me, Catesby. Therefore, the terms have changed. You can keep most of the spoils and the disputed strip of land that started this mess, but I will keep the fortress. My men and I can stop wandering about and settle in one place. Edenthorpe suits me perfectly.”

  Catesby was too angry to realize that he should probably disengage with the conversation and regroup when he wasn’t so livid. Instead, he marched on Marcil, coming close enough to the man to snarl.

  “I never lied to you,” he hissed. “How dare you call me a liar. I paid you good money to come to England and assess the situation. That was your job. I told you Edenthorpe was an enormous castle. That information was never withheld from you. Clearly, you are simply not up to the task. I would have hired someone else if I’d know you were such a coward.”

  Those were the magic words as far as Marcil was concerned. He turned on Catesby, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

  “You will never speak that term in my presence again,” he growled. “Do you understand me? You want me to do a job with only eighty-one men of my own and three hundred of your men and I am telling you that it is going to cost you dearly. I want Edenthorpe when all is said and done. It will become mine.”

  Catesby took a step back, shaking his head. “Never,” he gasped. “You will do the job for the price agreed upon or you will leave.”

  Marcil took a deep breath, perhaps one of annoyance, and set the wine pitcher back to the table. “And that is your final word?”

  Catesby was back by the table he used to write on, perhaps just now noticing that his solar had about five heavily armed mercenaries in it. The situation was spiraling out of control very quickly and he was trying not to look nervous, but it was difficult.

  He suspected that he and the mercenaries had come to an impasse.

  “It is my final word,” Catesby said bravely. “I will not be tricked or coerced by you, Clabecq. We made a bargain and now you are trying to change it. There will be a great deal of wealth to go around once Edenthorpe is captured, but you cannot have the fortress. That becomes mine. I have staked my claim.”

  Marcil looked at him a moment, appraising him, before turning casually to his men.

  “Kill him.”

  His men gladly moved in, weapons drawn. Catesby, seeing that he was about to be cut into pieces, drew the sword that he kept on the wall near the hearth and began swinging it like a madman. Soon, the small solar was filled with sounds of metal upon metal.

  Servants hearing the fight ran for Catesby’s men, who were in the bailey. Unfortunately, Clabecq’s men were at the entry to the manse and managed to stop all but one of the frightened servants. The man that got through sounded the alarm. Soon, the entire bai
ley and manse of Hagg Crag was alive with the sounds of battle, blood, and chaos.

  Three hundred adequately trained troops were an even match against eighty-one highly trained mercenaries. Hagg Crag deteriorated very quickly into a roiling mass of death and violence. By sheer number, Hagg’s men should have overwhelmed the Flemish mercenaries. But as the battle wore on and more Hagg men dropped, the more evident it became that the mercenaries were gaining the upper hand.

  Holding true to their nasty reputation, they tore through the Hagg army.

  Even so, the Hagg men put up a good fight. There were pockets of fighting all over the bailey that eventually ended with death, surrender, or escape. When some of the Hagg men saw which way the winds were blowing, they escaped through the gatehouse and out into the countryside. For those who remained behind, they were poorly matched against the mercenaries, who eventually triumphed.

  Inside the manse, Catesby put up a good fight but, in the end, he was no match for four highly trained mercenaries. They not only killed him, but they quartered him and tossed the body parts out of the window. Catesby’s son, who hadn’t even been involved in the situation, was the victim of bloodthirsty mercenaries who did to him what they did to his father.

  Edward Hagg ended up in pieces thrown from a window.

  The battle, from start to finish, only lasted for a couple of hours. When everyone related to Catesby was either dead or had run off, Marcil and his men began to ransack the manse for anything of value. They started in Catesby’s solar, tearing apart walls, tearing through chests and any solid vessels they could find in their hunt for valuables.

  They’d killed the master.

  Now, they were going to kill the manse.

  With no one to stop them, they were ruthless in their hunt. Nothing escaped their notice or destruction. When they had sufficiently torn apart the solar, they made sure to light it on fire and shut the door. Since the manse was made mostly of stone, it would take some time for the fire to burn through the wooden floors and furnishings, giving them time to search the rest of the place.

 

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