WolfeSword: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Cassius looked at him as if he wanted to say something angry in response, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He simply drained the cup in his hand.

  “I do not want to talk about that right now,” he said. “Bose, find me more drink.”

  Bose was on his feet, staggering away, as Rhori watched Cassius’ profile. The man was as drunk and out of control as he’d ever seen him, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t have his reasons. Frankly, no one blamed him. It had been a tragic happening with Dacia, but they simply never realized Cassius would take it so hard.

  Yet, he had.

  He was bleeding grief out of every pore in his body.

  “Is it helping?” Rhori finally asked softly.

  Cassius was staring, half-lidded, out into the room. “Is what helping?”

  “The drink. Is it helping you to forget?”

  Cassius turned to him, so swiftly that he nearly lost his balance. He had to grip the table. “I told you that I do not want to talk about it,” he said. “You’ll not bring her up.”

  “I didn’t say a word about her.”

  “I know what you meant!”

  Rhori held up a hand to ease him. “I simply asked if drinking was helping you forget about her,” he said. “Is the drinking and fighting helping you heal? Is it doing you any good?”

  Cassius’ lip flickered in a snarl. “Shut your mouth, du Bois,” he said. “You have no idea what you are asking.”

  Rhori lifted his eyebrows. “Aye, I do,” he said. “I’ve been through this, Cass, only worse. There was no chance of reconciliation when it happened to me. At least you are not mourning her death.”

  Cassius was geared up to throw a punch at a man he had been professing his love for only moment’s early when he suddenly came to a halt. His expression morphed from furious to remorseful in a quick moment.

  “God,” he groaned, putting a hand on Rhori’s arm. “Forgive me. I had forgotten about Lucy. Forgive me for not being more sensitive to that.”

  Rhori brushed him off. “Four years later, it is not as painful as it used to be,” he said. “Though I will admit that I think about her almost every day. Watching you fall in love with Dacia has brought back the memories of when I was courting Lucy. Those were good days. I remember them when I feel particularly sad sometimes. It helps.”

  Cassius sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and nearly tipping over because his balance was so bad. “Lucy was such a pretty girl,” he said. “Her death was very sad for us all, Rhori.”

  Rhori nodded faintly, remembering the red-haired, blue-eyed lass he was so deeply in love with. Pretty, vivacious, and naughty at times, she had been the fire to his ice until a sudden and horrific fever had taken her from him. She had been perfectly well and then a week later, he was weeping over her body. They’d never even had the chance to wed. He had to admit that watching Cassius go through the pangs of grief brought back a good deal of grief for him, too.

  He understood what it was like.

  “I will admit I wonder how things would have been,” he said after a moment. “Would we have had a son with her fiery hair and disposition? Or my dark hair and calm manner? I cannot imagine having a son with Lucy’s fire. A lad like that would have been the death of me.”

  Cassius smiled weakly. “He would have been your pride and joy and you know it,” he said. “I told Dacia that the first born son must be named by my father’s mother.”

  “Magnus the Law-Mender?”

  “Aye,” Cassius said. “He has named all of his male grandchildren and one great-grandchild. He would have undoubtedly laid claim to any first born son of mine.”

  “Will you raise Northmen sons, then?”

  Cassius laughed softly. “Not me,” he said. “They will be English to the bone. But it looks as if I may raise no sons at all. Not if I cannot raise them with Dacia.”

  Bose came out of the kitchens at that point, carrying a pitcher of ale in one hand and leading a servant girl with the other. They’d all seen this girl around. She was young and pretty, with big breasts and big hips. She swung them for any man who came in through the door and they’d seen her fondle a few men that had taken her into a corner of the tavern. Bose came up to the table and set the pitcher down.

  “This is Helen,” he said. “She told me that she thinks you’re very handsome, Cass.”

  Cassius looked up with disinterest as the servant girl smiled seductively at him. “M’lord is magnificent,” she said. “I’d be happy tae spend some time with ye.”

  As she said that, she pulled at a string that was keeping her bodice laced up. The string unraveled and the top of her shift fell open, exposing her cleavage. Another casual tug and her right breast nearly fell out. But Cassius simply looked away while Rhori shook his head in disapproval.

  “Go away, girl,” Rhori told her. “We have no need for you.”

  The girl’s face fell, but Bose grabbed her by the wrist. “Speak for yourself,” he said. “If you don’t want her, I’ll take her. Remember… I’ll put anything in my mouth. Just ask the ladies.”

  Being very drunk, it made him do things he wouldn’t normally do. Rhori watched in morbid fascination as Bose sat down with his back to the wall and pulled the girl on top of his lap. She giggled, straddling him, as he reached into the top of her shift and exposed both of her breasts. When he began suckling on them, Rhori had to turn away.

  “Christ, Bose,” he grunted. “Take her back into a chamber if you’re going to do that. We don’t need to see it.”

  Bose did. He stood up, with an erection lifting his breeches like the pole of a tent, and carried the girl back into the chamber he had been sharing with Cassius and Rhori. He threw the door open, startling Argos sleeping on one of the beds, but the door wasn’t hung properly so it hit the jamb and bounced back open. They could still see Bose’s naked arse as he dropped his breeches and began to ram into the girl, who groaned in delight.

  Frustrated, Rhori stood up, went to the chamber door, calling to the dog before he slammed it shut and headed back to the table he shared with Cassius. Argos, smelling food, was happy to go sit next to Cassius and beg for a few bites.

  As Cassius fed the dog a few chunks of beef from his plate, Rhori was about to take his seat when the front door to the tavern flew open. He glanced up, purely as a reflex, but when he realized who stood in the doorway, his eyes widened.

  “Christ, Cass,” he hissed. “Look.”

  Cassius didn’t look up until Rhori elbowed him. Then he looked to the entry with disinterest until he recognized the man who had entered.

  Darian de Lohr was coming towards him.

  Cassius dropped the beef and bolted to his feet.

  “Darian?” he gasped in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

  Darian was in full armor and he had a host of Doncaster soldiers with him. They could see the men filtering into the tavern. He tilted his helm back, peering at Cassius as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

  “Cassius,” he said, bewildered. “What in the hell is the matter with you?”

  Cassius didn’t know what to say. He was weaving so unsteadily that he had to sit back down or he would fall down. It was Rhori who answered.

  “We have been sequestered in this disgusting hovel for a week,” he said quietly so Cassius wouldn’t hear. “Ever since I sent you that missive.”

  “Cassius still refuses to leave?”

  Rhori nodded. “The further we move away, the further he is from Lady Dacia. So… we have been watching him feel sorry for himself.”

  Darian sighed heavily, ripping his helm off and slamming it onto the table. “He must sober up,” he said, irritated and brittle. “We have a long ride back to Doncaster.”

  Cassius heard him. “I am not going back to Doncaster,” he declared. He may have been terribly drunk, but he wasn’t out of his mind. He understood what was being said. “I am never going back to Doncaster, Darian, and you cannot make me. She does not want me back.”

&
nbsp; Darian cast a pleading look at Rhori. “You must sober him up,” he said quietly. “Something has… happened.”

  Rhori didn’t like what he was hearing. “What happened?” he asked. “Is Lady Dacia well?”

  It disturbed him even more that Darian didn’t answer him directly. Instead, he turned to Cassius and sat down right in front of the man.

  “Cass,” he hissed. “Look at me. Do you understand? Look at me.”

  Cassius’ head lolled in his direction. “I am looking at you.”

  “Can you understand me?”

  “Of course I can understand you. I am not a dolt.”

  “Then understand me clearly. Dacia may be dying. You must come back.”

  Cassius went from drunkenly disinterested to filled with terror all in one swift moment. He reached out, grabbing Darian by the arm and knocking his cup of ale off the table. It spilled all over the floor.

  “W-What?” he said, his voice cracking. “What are you saying? What happened?”

  Darian held on to him because, suddenly, he was quivering violently. “I had to tell you that to get your attention,” he said. “Now that I have it, listen to me closely. Amata has…”

  Cassius cut him off, his face contorting with rage. “Did she have something to do with this?” he boomed. “I do not care if she is a woman. I’ll…”

  Darian shook him to shut him up. “Nay,” he said. “Cassius, listen. Amata’s father, Sir Hugh, forced Amata to confess the lies she told about Dacia. Amata confessed it to the priests at St. George’s and to most of the village when they came to mass. They all know that the rumors against Dacia are untrue. Cass, her reputation is restored. Amata confessed everything.”

  Cassius just stared at him, his sotted mind trying to process everything. That was most definitely not what he had expected to hear.

  “No more rumors that she stole me away from Amata?” he asked.

  “Nay.”

  “No rumors of a dead baby?”

  “No more rumors.”

  “Amata told the truth?”

  “She did.”

  Cassius blinked, appearing more sober than he had in days. “Then why did Dacia not send word to me?” he said. “I would have come back. I swear, I would have come back to her. All I want is to come back to her.”

  “It only happened yesterday,” Darian said. “I came as soon as I could.”

  “But… but you said Dacia may be dying? What happened?”

  Darian sighed again, this time with pain in his expression. “It was an accident,” he said, squeezing Cassius’ arm in sympathy. “Her maid was supposed to give her sleeping powders but accidentally gave her a poison. You must come back to Edenthorpe, Cass. Dacia needs you.”

  Coming from the man who had hoped to marry Dacia, once, it was a bittersweet moment for Darian as well as for Cassius. In fact, Cassius put his hand on Darian’s cheek, perhaps a silent acknowledgement of Darian’s selflessness in the situation. Even through his drunken haze, he knew that. He could see a brave man before him. But that was as much as Cassius could do before he was on his feet.

  “I am going now,” he said. “Rhori, have the tavernkeeper bring back that putrid boiled juice. Anything to help flush the ale out of my veins. And get the horses saddled.”

  Rhori was moving for the chamber where Bose had just finished having his way with the serving wench. He threw open the door, startling them both.

  “Bose,” he barked. “On your feet. We are returning to Doncaster immediately.”

  Bose was laying in the bed, fully dressed with the exception of his breeches being around his knees.

  “Why?” he demanded. “What is happening?”

  “De Lohr is here.”

  Bose’s expression darkened. “Cass does not need to return, Rhori. He’ll only find heartache there.”

  Rhori’s gaze lingered on him. “More than you know,” he said. “De Lohr says Lady Dacia may be dying. We must go.”

  He didn’t need to say another word. Bose was already flying into action.

  Within the hour, they were heading for Doncaster.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  It was about twenty miles from Pontefract to Doncaster, so not a terribly long distance in the grand scheme of things. But to Cassius, it seemed like a lifetime.

  Time was moving so very slowly.

  They’d departed Pontefract in the early afternoon, riding hard south, but not hard enough because the horses from Doncaster had already made that trek and were tired, so the men didn’t push them too much.

  Cassius couldn’t push too much, either – Old Man was fat and lazy from having spent over a week eating and sleeping, and Argos was running alongside, which wasn’t something the dog normally did. About halfway into their ride, Cassius had to stop and pick the dog up. He handed the animal over to Rhori, who kept the dog in front of him as they continued down the road.

  But exhausted horses, and fat horses, made for a slower journey then Cassius had hoped for.

  It was late afternoon when the lands of Doncaster began to come into view. The meadows were green, the trees tall and proud and fresh, and Cassius had a strange feeling that he was coming home again. In just the few days he had been at Doncaster, less than two weeks to be truthful, he felt something for the place because it belonged to Dacia. As she had said, she was Doncaster.

  It was strange how he could feel her everywhere.

  He wasn’t feeling so drunk by the time they reached Doncaster’s lands. A brisk ride for several hours had the desired effect of sobering him up. Before he’d left the tavern, however, he had spent quality time in a rain barrel in the stable yard because it was full of cold, fresh water and, at that point, he was desperate to sober up. Therefore, he had dunked his entire body into it and the brisk temperature had the desired effect. Mostly, anyway. He was a shivering drunk now, but at least not as drunk as he had been.

  There was more to come.

  In the preparations for leaving, Rhori had managed to obtain a pitcher of boiled cider for Cassius, which he drank until there was nothing left. He also ate more bread and meat. He did all of the things that a man is supposed to do to sober up because he desperately wanted his wits about him.

  He needed them.

  Once the ride to Doncaster began, as his senses returned, so did his focus and sense of dread. He tried hard not to think on why they were going there, but he kept hearing Darian’s words over and over in his mind –

  Dacia may be dying…

  Dacia may be dying…

  Those words were like tiny daggers tearing at him, poking holes at his composure, trying furiously to rattle him. He fought against those words more desperately then he had ever fought anything in his life. He tried to focus on the good news, the news that Amata had confessed her sins to the priests and to the villagers. He tried to focus on the fact that Dacia was no longer a target of their scorn and fear. He tried to focus on all those things, because if he thought on what he would find once he reached Edenthorpe, he was afraid he might crumble.

  He had to believe it wasn’t as bad as Darian said.

  It was the only thing that kept him going.

  Drawing closer to Doncaster, the land around them was beginning to level out and they could see the village straight ahead. The big, white walls of the city reflected the late afternoon sun, and soon they would be closing the gates for the night.

  The party made it in time, rushing through the northern gate, charging through the town that was rebuilding admirably since the mercenary raid. But Cassius didn’t pay any attention. He didn’t even pass a glance at the goldsmith’s stall where he and Dacia had selected their wedding rings. They were probably still there, waiting for them.

  But they didn’t matter.

  Nothing mattered without Dacia.

  Emerging from the gate that faced Edenthorpe Castle, Cassius suddenly felt a surge of anxiety. Gone were his attempts to keep his composure. Dacia was within those walls, and he couldn’t get to her fast enou
gh. He spurred Old Man forward, charging through the gatehouse before the gates were even fully open, dismounting his horse so swiftly that he stumbled. Soldiers were there, and stable servants, and they took his sweating, exhausted horse away as Cassius literally ran all the way to the keep.

  Cassius was blind to anything else.

  He was blind to his surroundings, to people or animals or buildings. The only building for him was directly in front of him and he took the steps into the keep two at a time. He hit the entry door running, only to be blocked by the duke, who was waiting for him.

  Startled by the man’s abrupt appearance, Cassius came to a halt because he had to, tearing the helm from his dark, sweaty head.

  “I am here,” he said breathlessly. “Where is she? How is she?”

  The duke put up his hands to ease the panicked knight. “Cassius, calm yourself,” he said steadily. “Thank God you have come, but please… calm yourself. Let me tell you what you need to know before you go to her.”

  “Is she still alive?”

  “She is.”

  Cassius stared at him a moment, the words confirming that Dacia had not passed away sinking into his weary, still slightly drunk mind.

  And then, he burst into tears.

  He hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding in, terror and fear that he’d lost her for good. A big, gloved hand slapped over his mouth to prevent the sobs from emerging, but he closed his eyes tightly and the tears spilled over. The duke, seeing how distraught he was, put his hands on the man to ease him.

  “Cassius,” he said with surprising gentleness. “Be at ease, lad. She is still alive, though she has not yet awakened. I sent for the best physic in Sheffield and the man is with her now. His name is Whittington and he is the personal physic to the Earl of Sheffield. She has the best of care, I promise you.”

  Cassius was trying desperately to compose himself. “I do not understand,” he said hoarsely. “Darian said she was accidentally given poison. How could that even happen?”

  Doncaster sighed faintly, with great regret. “Because her maid mixed up the phials,” he said. “It was an accident. Whittington has determined that what she was given was not exactly a poison, but something used for swelling and dropsy. If the person is given too much of it, it will affect the heart and the breathing. That is what has happened to Dacia – she was given too much of it and the physic hopes that she will simply wake up without any effects, but it will take time.”