WolfeSword: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He was starting to feel sick to his stomach. “I will not leave you,” he said. “What they say cannot hurt us as long as we remain strong, together.”

  “Nay, Cass.”

  “If I go, then Amata wins. Is that what you want?”

  She shook her head, her lower lip trembling. “Nay,” she murmured. “But I cannot let you be hurt by what she has done. You have my heart; you always will. I love you as the moon loves the night, as the stars love the darkness. But because I love you, I will not marry you.”

  With that, she turned and ran back to her palfrey as Cassius followed. She leapt onto her little horse, tears soaking the veil around her neck and chest, and spurred the little beast onward with Argos running after her. She was galloping by the time she hit the gate, heading out on the road that led to the castle.

  Cassius boomed at the escort, sending the soldiers after her as he collected Old Man and pursued. Outside of the village walls, they kept an eye on her up ahead, all the way into Edenthorpe’s bailey.

  Even then, Dacia was too fast for Cassius. She flew off her horse and ran into the keep before he could stop her. He followed as quickly as he could, ending up in front of her barred chamber door with Argos sitting outside of it, waiting patiently to be let in. But no amount of pounding or pleading could coax Dacia into opening that door. Cassius spent two straight days sitting at her door, begging her to let him in.

  On the beginning of the third day, he knew that his future was slipping away from him no matter how hard he tried to hold on.

  With his back against her chamber door, the tears finally came.

  And a fragile heart was shattered.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Silverdale Manor

  Two Weeks Later

  He’d just returned from mass at St. George’s.

  Hugh de Branton left his horse in the small stable yard, tended to by a servant. As he made his way across the bailey, his gaze moved to the manse that had belonged to his family for three generations. Big, squat, and covered in vines, it had always been a house of honor and comfort.

  But that’s not what it was now.

  Now, the chaos within was starting to make sense.

  Amata had refused to come to mass for a couple of weeks now, ever since her visit to Edenthorpe to see her cousin had been cut short. His daughter, usually so bold and vocal, wouldn’t tell him why. She had sequestered herself, hardly coming out of her chamber, hardly visiting with her father, which she usually did gleefully and on a regular basis. As of late, she seemed subdued, avoiding eye contact, avoiding conversation. It seemed to him that she was trying to stay clear of him for some reason.

  Now, Hugh knew why.

  His daughter had been hiding something.

  He entered the manse, through the cool and dark entry, heading up the mural stairs to the floor above. This was the level where the bedchambers were, at least most of them, and his daughter occupied a chamber on the northwest corner. He made his way to that room, knocking on the door with more restraint than he felt.

  He had his anger in check, but barely.

  “Amata?” he called. “Amata, are you there?”

  “I am, Papa.”

  Hugh could hear footsteps coming towards the door and the bolt was thrown. The panel opened and Hugh was faced with his daughter’s pretty face. More surprising to him, however, was the fact that there was someone in the chamber with her, a young woman he recognized, whose father was one of the premier goldsmiths in town.

  Claudia Lockwood stood up and curtsied when she saw Amata’s father.

  “My lady,” Hugh greeted, but his focus turned to his daughter. “I was unaware that you had a visitor.”

  Amata smiled timidly. “Just Claudia, Papa. She has come to visit.”

  Hugh eyed the goldsmith’s daughter. “She is welcome, of course,” he said, but returned his attention to his daughter. “Amata, I must speak to you. Privately, if I may.”

  Amata looked a little uncertain, but she agreed, stepping out into the corridor and shutting the door behind her. But it didn’t shut all the way. It was open just enough for Amata’s visitor to hear everything that was said. Amata hadn’t planned it that way, and had she known what her father was about to say, she would have made sure that Claudia was nowhere near that cracked door.

  But that oversight was to be her grave mistake.

  “Aye, Papa?” Amata said. “What is it?”

  Hugh was genuinely trying to hold his temper. “I have just come from mass.”

  “I know, Papa.”

  Hugh held up a finger in a knowing gesture. “You have not come with me to mass for several weeks now,” he said. “You have been pleading fatigue and illness, but now I see that you have a visitor today.”

  Amata nodded hesitantly. “Claudia came this morning, after you left,” she said. “I am surprised you did not see her on the road.”

  Hugh just looked at her for a few moments, pondering what he was going to say next. There was so much he needed to say that it was difficult to know where to start.

  “I did not,” he said. “But it is of little matter. Something interesting happened in town today.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I was approached after mass by Father Lazarus,” he said. “Evidently, there is a good deal going on with you that I was unaware of, and all of it centering around that de Wolfe knight I would not invite to Silverdale.”

  Something rippled through her expression. He could see it. He thought it might have been fear or shock, but he couldn’t be certain.

  “What do you mean, Papa?” she said, sounding innocent. “Do you mean Cassius de Wolfe?”

  “I mean Cassius de Wolfe.”

  Amata shrugged. “I have nothing to do with him.”

  Hugh shook his head. “That is not true,” he said. “From what I’ve been told, you were betrothed to the man until Dacia stole him away by seducing him.”

  Amata’s breathing began to quicken as she began to lose control of the conversation. “Who told you that?” she demanded. “I haven’t even seen the man!”

  “That is also not true,” Hugh said. “You went to Edenthorpe two weeks ago to visit Dacia, you claimed, but I knew you were going there to see that knight. Did he propose marriage to you, Amata?”

  Amata was caught and sinking fast. She averted her gaze, backing away from her father. “He… he was glad to see me, of course, but…”

  “Did he propose marriage to you and did not have the decency to ask my permission?”

  Amata took another step back but Hugh reached out and grabbed her wrist so she couldn’t get away. She flinched. “Papa, you’re hurting me!”

  Hugh yanked on her, pulling her towards him. “He did not propose marriage to you, did he?”

  Amata’s eyes were filling with tears as the petulant little girl began to emerge. “You would not invite him here so I could have a chance to entertain him. You would not give me the chance to prove how witty and charming I can be!”

  Hugh’s rage was starting to build. “Give me the truth or I shall lock you up in the vault and leave you there until you decide to be honest,” he seethed. “Tell me!”

  “Nay!” Amata burst into tears. “He did not propose marriage.”

  “But you told everyone he did, am I to understand that?” Hugh said. “Worse still, you have told everyone that Dacia seduced the man away from you, is this correct?”

  Amata was already sobbing. “He kissed her. I saw it!”

  “Where did he kiss her, Amata?”

  “On… on her hand. But he still kissed her!”

  “And you equate that to her seducing him?”

  Amata’s sobbing was growing louder. “Papa, you’re hurting my wrist,” she wept. “Please let go.”

  Hugh was too furious to release her. “I will not let go until you tell me what you have done,” he said. “There are rumors all about the village that Dacia stole your betrothed and even worse than that, there a
re rumors that she bore a child and buried it in the garden. Do you know that the church is considering bringing murder charges against her for that?”

  Amata’s eyes opened wide. “Murder?” she sputtered. “I… I did not know…”

  “Then you told that lie?”

  “I… I…”

  “Tell me!”

  Amata howled because he shook her, bruising her flesh. “I did!” she cried. “I did and I am not sorry! She stole Cassius away from me and she knew that I wanted him!”

  Hugh was so angry that his entire face was red. “So you spread these lies to turn people against her?”

  “To punish her!” Amata screamed, spittle flying from her lips. “I wanted Cassius and she stole him!”

  Hugh watched his daughter weep, fluid spilling from every part of her face. He was so angry that he was actually afraid of what he might do to her.

  But that wouldn’t solve the problem.

  He’d just come from a village that was whispering about Dacia and her witch’s marks, and how she was truly a witch because she used her powers to seduce Amata’s betrothed and sacrificed her own baby to the devil. Hugh knew as soon as Father Lazarus told him that it was untrue and he also knew where the rumors had come from. There had been no doubt. He suspected that Father Lazarus knew it, too.

  Amata.

  But this was the last time it was going to happen.

  He’d had enough of his daughter’s lies.

  “No more, Amata,” he said. Then, he lashed out a foot and kicked open the chamber door, smacking Claudia in the arm because she had been eavesdropping. “You! Go home and tell your parents that everything you told them about Dacia of Doncaster is a lie. Do you hear me? If you do not, you shall never be welcome here again!”

  Claudia whimpered and fled. Hugh didn’t bother watching her go. He was more interested in his hysterical daughter.

  “And you,” he said, his voice filled with disgust. “You are coming with me.”

  He began to drag her towards the stairs. She tried to dig her heels in, but it was to no avail. Hugh was stronger, and bigger, and easily pulled her along.

  “Papa, please!” she cried, trying to hold on to the walls as he tugged. “Please do not put me in the vault!”

  Hugh had her on the stairs. She didn’t want to go down, so she sat, and he ended up pulling her all the way down on her arse.

  “I am not taking you to the vault,” he said. “I am taking you to St. George’s, where you will tell the priests what you have done. You are going to tell everyone in the village that you have lied against Dacia and that she has done nothing of which you have accused her.”

  When Amata realized that, she began to weep loudly again, trying to kick her father to force him to release her.

  “Nay, Papa, please!” she wept. “I cannot shame myself so!”

  Hugh had to heave because she was showing surprising strength. “If you feel any shame at all, then you will know how Dacia feels,” Hugh said, catching a flailing foot. They had reached the bottom of the steps and instead of dragging her by the arm, he was pulling her by a leg, all the way across the wooden floor. “I have let your wickedness go on for too long, Amata. Your jealousies have ruined you, but you are going to start making amends. I do not know if you can undo the damage you have caused but, by God, you are going to try. And then, I am going to take you to Edenthorpe where you will apologize to your cousin for what you have done.”

  Amata was screaming, trying to hold on to furniture or walls, anything she could, to prevent her father from dragging her from the manse and taking her into town. But everything was slipping from her grasp.

  Everything.

  Hugh ended up dragging her across the bailey, all the way into the stables where he forced the stable servant to find a measure of rope. He used it to secure his daughter’s hands and feet so she wouldn’t run away, and then he put her over his horse and took her into town tied up like a hunting trophy.

  Once they reached the village, he took her into St. George’s where he forced her to confess her lies to Father Lazarus and Father Alfrick, among others. He forced her to confess every little lie she’d ever told, and the big ones, too. It was the priests who forced her to confess those same lies to the worshippers who came to attend vespers. Amata was a sobbing, exhausted, dirty mess by then, but Hugh showed no mercy and neither did the priests.

  She would reap what she sowed.

  Father Lazarus, in particular, was especially angry.

  God frowned upon the wicked, and Amata’s confessions had revealed that she was the most wicked of all. So in penitence, they left her sitting in the sanctuary, all night, so she could confess her sins to those who arrived at dawn for matins. Amata was forced to humiliate herself in front of the entire village, including Old Timeo and his family, and Hugh finally untied his daughter and dragged her exhausted carcass over to Edenthorpe to perform the last of her penitence for this most egregious sin.

  There was someone else she needed to apologize to. After all of these years of her lies and malicious behavior, Amata was finally forced to confront what she’d done to a woman who had never hurt anyone in her life. But Hugh seriously wondered if the damage caused by his daughter this time could even be undone.

  They were about to find out.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Edenthorpe Castle

  “Dacia?”

  Darian had been knocking at her door for several minutes before finally being bold enough to open the door and stick his head in. The first person he saw was Edie, sitting near the hearth in the large chamber, sewing on a piece of yellow fabric. He didn’t see any of the other maids, who were usually bustling around the chamber.

  But these days, nothing was usual.

  Dacia herself wasn’t usual.

  It had been a difficult and uncertain time, ever since the day that Dacia had returned from town with Cassius and locked herself up in her chamber. There had been a good deal of banging as Cassius had pounded at her door on that day, begging her to open it, but Dacia didn’t comply. It was the first time in her relationship with Cassius that she didn’t do what he wanted her to do.

  He wanted her to open the door.

  Darian was understandably curious as to what was going on. He’d asked Bose, who had told him to mind his own business, but Rhori had taken him aside and explained about the rumors and about the priests, everything Cassius had told him about the situation. At least, as much as he could while they had been riding like the wind as they had departed from Doncaster. Rhori didn’t know all of it, or why Dacia wouldn’t speak with Cassius, but something serious had happened between them.

  Something tragic.

  At first, Darian had been secretly glad. He had been hoping that Cassius was only a passing fancy and it seemed that he had been correct. He saw renewed hope in his quest for Dacia that had been shattered by Cassius’ pursuit. But the more the days passed, and the more Cassius would not leave Dacia’s door until she opened it, the more Darian began to feel some guilt for gloating in Cassius’ failure. The man was clearly broken up over what had happened, so Darian began snapping at the men who would comment on the situation. It wasn’t any of their affair, he would tell them.

  And the vigil went on.

  The duke, having been told of the situation by Rhori, went to see Cassius as the man camped at Dacia’s door. Cassius told him everything, the rumors and the lies, and Doncaster was sick over it. He never involved himself in the trials or tribulations of others and had, thus far, kept himself out of the situation between Amata and Dacia. Somehow, they always seemed to work things out, or so he believed. But the latest rumors from Amata’s lips were beyond what he believed the girl capable of.

  Now, he was involved.

  Mostly, he was involved with Cassius, who was grief-stricken by Dacia’s solution to the situation. The duke didn’t agree with her and tried to tell her so through the closed chamber door, but she never answered him. She never answered the door, not e
ven when he demanded it. The situation went on for two agonizing days and by the third day, Cassius seemed to resign himself to the inevitable.

  But it was with a good deal of anger and resentment.

  After almost three days of banging on Dacia’s door and demanding that she open it, Cassius finally left for good, going to his borrowed chamber and packing his belongings. His movements were crisp and silent, and Rhori and Bose packed along with him. They had a destination that had been put off long enough and Cassius decided that it was a good day to continue their journey to Castle Questing.

  Without another word, he left.

  But Rhori had spoken to Darian just before leaving, telling the man that he would keep him appraised of their movements in case Dacia came to her senses. Perhaps there was hope, perhaps there was none at all, but it seemed that Dacia was truly convinced that sending Cassius away and breaking their betrothal was the only way to protect him against the accusations against her. Still, no one really knew what she was thinking because she wouldn’t tell anyone.

  Now, it had been that way for two long weeks, but a few moments ago all of that had changed. Amata and her father had arrived, bearing news, and the duke had sent Darian up to Dacia’s chamber.

  But he approached her with the same caution as one would approach a wild lion.

  Both Dacia and the lion, in his opinion, were unpredictable creatures.

  When he finally opened the door and spied Edie, the old woman’s head came up, looking at him with wide eyes, and silently they communicated with gestures and expressions as to whether or not this was a good time for him to communicate with Dacia.

  Edie finally motioned him in.

  “’Tis good to see you, Sir Darian,” she said, her voice elevated so Dacia could hear her. “It is a fine day today, is it not?”

  Darian stepped into the chamber, but he was coiled, ready to run for his life if Dacia came flying at him.

  “It is a fine day,” he agreed. “I do believe it is going to be a warm and dry summer. The temperatures are rising and we’ve not seen any rain, so I fear we are looking at a dusty season to come.”