“Right then,” Galeren said stopping and surveying the clearing they were in.
“Here?” Catherine asked puzzled. She had followed him dutifully into the depths of the forest, walking for what had seemed for hours. With each step she became more and more afraid as she felt that he was slipping further from her.
The last few days had been indescribable for Catherine. Her new world was in bloom and she was becoming ever more attuned to it. Galeren was there in every capacity to support her but though in the waking day he was attentive, emotionally he was distant. Her life was in the throes of rebirth and she could not bear his cool demeanour. He was her only connection to her new life but she knew that the mark of Esquin de Floyran marred her and it was that that caused Galeren’s detachment.
She knew nothing of the past they’d shared only that Galeren was loath to speak of it and her own experience with him, although brief and terrifying, had irrevocably changed her life. Yet in the world of werewolf dreams, which were vivid and sometimes difficult to separate from waking life, Galeren’s presence was powerful and grew ever more so, crippling Esquin de Floyran’s grip on her. She felt safe and united with Galeren and she was certain she sensed a deep connection with him but one that seemed absent in waking reality.
Today she had felt the tension within him as he stormed ahead of her urging her to keep up. Today was different. Catherine no longer needed the fresh air and exercise to regain the strength she had lost during her transition or to adjust to her new senses. The part of the forest he took her into was dense and dark and thus undisturbed and she knew there was good reason for them coming here; she was ready for her first change.
For days now she had been filled with an unrelenting energy that seemed to want to eat her from the inside out. She could feel an itch in her bones and sleep would not come. Galeren had told her to have patience and that the longer she put up with the frustration, the easier the first change would be. Galeren himself could barely remember his first change it was such a blur of emotions, but he knew that he had been in the care of the Temple and angry at everything. Since then he had guided many through their first change, including Parsifal, but this was different.
Her change was important. She would become wolf and he felt sure that the bond he sensed between them would be sealed. They could run together and feel the gift that the Earth had given them unite them as brethren. She would see the world as he saw it and she would love and yearn for its wild abandon. But Galeren also feared the transition. Human emotions could confuse and only as wolves would their real destiny be revealed.
He had been cool with her these past few days, he did not want to think of her as his mate, not yet, for fear that when she changed things would not be as he wished. Though marked by another, he hoped that as wolves they would recognise each other as the life mates he believed they were meant to be. There was also an apprehension at seeing her in wolf form. He wondered what colouring she would have. She was dark, and though her complexion was pale he knew that De Floyran’s bite would have influence on it.
However, he tried to keep that thought distant. She had been marked by De Floyran and there was nothing he could do about it. Despite the bitterness this engrained within him, Galeren felt that any bond that Catherine had was with him, and not her maker.
“What should I do?” she asked, turning around and shrugging.
“What do you feel?” Galeren asked.
“Hot.” She replied. This feeling had been with her for days and was often accompanied by an intense pressure behind her eyes which was both draining and sickening.
“Take off your clothes.” He said casually.
Catherine’s eyes widened, “Right here?”
“You’ll lose them if you change within them.”
“Lose them?”
“Aye,” he raised an eyebrow, “change can be quite quick and there is a point when you are neither one nor the other, there is a space between those two states and anything upon your person remains in that space.”
Catherine frowned, her bewilderment apparent but Galeren just shrugged, “Don’t ask me how or why. All I know is that if you change in clothing then you lose it and believe me you will never find it again. ’Tis as unexplained as how we came to be. How hot do you feel now?”
“Much hotter.”
“You are close then. Find your space and relax.”
“Does it hurt?”
“’Tis a discomfort, but it is so brief you will not notice it, not when you’ve done it countless times.” He smiled. “The first time is more fear of the unknown then actual pain. But I think it will be easy for you.”
“How so?”
“’Tis something I sense, now go to. Find your space. I will be here if you need me.”
She nodded her understanding and looked around a little hesitantly. She felt the heat within her rise and made herself leave the safe proximity of Galeren and walk into the dense undergrowth. Immediately feeling a little cooler she moved amongst the foliage until she felt she was a sufficient distance from Galeren to make her change privately, but not too far from him lest anything bad happen.
Quickly she removed her girdle, dress and undershift and folded them carefully into a pile. She suddenly felt hot again and could tell that the fiery heat within her was rising. It was in her blood and even her bones felt the charring heat. For days now she had felt this, the rising heat and pressure within her coming in ever increasing waves until they became nauseating. She eventually cooled down but today was different; she could feel the heat intensifying and nausea gaining on her with a relentless aim.
Her head spun and she quickly crouched down on all fours onto the cool grass to prevent herself from swooning. Burning up she scrunched her eyes together and tried to prevent the rest of her body from tensing but it was of no use. She felt her body spasm and cried out sharply as a cold sensation, like ice, rushed through her veins. It instantly cleansed and cooled her burning blood. Exhilarated, she felt her body relax and opened her eyes to find herself looking at a blur of greenish brown that was the forest floor.
Blinking she moved her hand in front of her as her vision cleared and saw a sight that made her baulk. It couldn’t be? She moved her head closer to what should have been her hand but found herself staring at a grey paw, like a dog’s paw . . . a wolf’s paw. She moved her hand and saw the paw move. She clawed at the undergrowth, until what she was seeing connected with what she was feeling. The new appendage really belonged to her.
She crossed her eyes and looked down what was a dark grey muzzle protruding from her face. Shaking her head in disbelief she looked at her second paw and then turned her head to look down the length of her body. She was still on all fours, but now these were four grey legs and she looked beyond her furry flank to see a bushy tail that she swished from side to side. Amazed and excited by her new body she made to run from her hiding place and find Galeren.
“Galeren!” she tried to cry out but a strange sound came from her new mouth and she ran to where he had been to find him gone. Where was he? She turned with ease on her four paws, feeling graceful and agile. A noise from the right caught her attention and she turned to see the white wolf come crashing through the brush.
Catherine! she heard him say as clear as anything and cocked her head in confusion. Galeren looked at the grey wolf before him and, much relieved, admired her beauty. She was a grey, not black, anything but black.
Run! he said and tore off through the forest. Still a little dazed but unwilling to lose him she began to chase after him. How was he talking to her? She could hear him but he wasn’t taking though his mouth. It must be through his mind. Like in the dreams, they must be linked through their minds and with them they could communicate.
She ran after him, feeling a new unity with the forest around her. Her senses spanned out, reaching far and wide into the new world and she felt them purified by the Earth’s rhythm. Freedom! As she ran trying to find her companion she felt deliverance and that all that had bee
n before was now gone. Galeren had told her that there was no feeling in the world like that of running as a wolf. She now understood that and speeded up thrilled at how fast she could run! But Galeren was nowhere to be seen. She called out to him in her mind,
Galeren, where are you?
When he didn’t answer she felt she had done something wrong and was about to try again when she felt something rush towards her from the side.
Here! he said and crashed into her. She felt her feet knocked from under her but she quickly recovered and squirmed her way out from under him.
You rogue! she said panting and lowered her head at him. His eyes were bright and curious. She shook herself and said, Come, try and catch me then! And tore away from him like lightning, hearing her own laughter in her head.
She couldn’t tell how long they’d run and fooled around for. She had felt like a child again, tumbling through the undergrowth with a good friend that she had long forgotten. She felt close to Galeren and sensed that any tension that had gripped him the last few days had gone. He seemed relaxed, happy and free. This was true freedom though, something she had never known and now would never give up. Nor, she vowed, would she give Galeren up. She knew that she wanted to be with him always and that the world would be unbearable without him, a cruel winter with no thaw to look forward to or summer warmth. She would freeze without him.
She awoke from a peaceful slumber with no memory of dreaming, just the satisfaction gained from a good rest after a day of vibrant activity. She yawned and stretched, aware that she lay across Galeren who snoozed lying upon his stomach. She looked down and suddenly jumped up in horror. She was naked and no longer in wolf form. Gasping she ran for the cover of the trees. Galeren stirred at the commotion and sleepily shook his head to waken himself.
“Catherine?” he called out, propping himself up on his elbows.
“I’m fine.” She said, fruitlessly looking for something to cover herself.
“What are you doing?” he called out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“I . . . ” Catherine paused crouching down, “I’m naked.” She finished only to hear Galeren laugh.
“So?”
“So?” Catherine said embarrassed, “God knows where our clothes are from here?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find them later.” He said standing up.
“Don’t come in here!” she said, crossing her arms to cover her breasts.
“Why not?” he said still approaching.
“It’s not proper! You should not see me thus!” she protested.
“You just changed into a wolf Catherine, we’ve run through the forest together as wild beasts and you worry about me seeing you naked.”
“But,” she started pausing as Galeren suddenly appeared before her. She looked away but couldn’t prevent her gaze being drawn back to his nakedness. She found herself perusing his wiry physique allowing her eyes to wonder beyond his midriff and below to his groin. She could feel her cheeks burn and wished it was a sign that she was changing again and not of embarrassment, but she knew it was the latter.
“Stand up,” he commanded.
“No!” she said, wishing to disappear.
“You have nothing to hide, you are beautiful.”
She was momentarily lulled by his remark but still did not feel she could stand before him without a stitch of clothing.
“Please,” she begged but he moved towards her and offered his hand to her. She shook her head but knew he would not give in easily. She trusted him but was still afraid, emotions were raw and her blood was hot. She thought of the winter that would be without him and slowly offered him her hand. As he took it he said,
“I told you of the link between marked and initiator.”
She nodded, unwilling to look into his eyes. “Well, sometimes there is a special link between others.” He continued.
“Special?”
“A deep and powerful bond.”
“What sort of bond?” she mumbled, knowing that her nerves had the better of her.
Galeren sighed, “Christ on the Cross Catherine, don’t tell me you know not of what I speak!”
“I do,” she whispered hoarsely and looking up at him through her lashes she tentatively allowed his grip to pull her to her feet. He did not look at her body but instead looked straight into her eyes.
“There are several reasons why I took you from that wretched convent, not least because I was lost to you the moment I saw you. We are bonded as true mates, ’tis why I can enter your mind as both human and wolf, and you can enter mine. Ours is a bond that can cross great distance and I felt it immediately.”
Catherine began to chew on her bottom lip nervously though her heart quickened, “I felt it too.” She admitted, both relieved and overjoyed. Smiling he moved towards her but she stepped back. “I am afraid,” she said.
“Do not fear me, Catherine. I would never hurt you or force myself on you.”
“No!” she said her eyes widening, “you misunderstand me, I am not afraid of you but of loving you. You know my heart is scarred Galeren.”
“I do, but know this; what I feel I’ve never felt before, a wolf’s bond with its mate is unbreakable. Nothing or no-one can ever sever it, Catherine, ever.”
She smiled for she sensed it to be true. “I have never –” she began but was cut off as Galeren pulled her into his arms and kissed her. The forest was suddenly alight and she burned within it.
Catherine was consumed by his fire. Their union was desperate; as if it were the first and last time they would be together. He devoured her passionately like she knew he would. Though not green to the act itself, she had not experienced anything like it and overwhelmed with emotion from the day she cried as their fervour melted them together and left them breathless and forever changed.
As she lay wrapped in his arms she thought of the brief and awkward couplings she had had with Robard; her skirts pushed up to her waist, their skin separated by clothing, his grunts and passionless kisses that, in comparison, were like being pecked at by a bird. There had been no tenderness or fire and she wondered how she could have ever thought that she was in love.
This was love; his body had shown her, reinforcing his words and she’d felt the intensity of his feelings throughout her own body. Her heart now felt tight and though she was happy she also felt fear. This situation was irrevocable and her new feelings frightened her, there would not just be winter without Galeren but despair and death.
“What are you thinking about?” Galeren said shaking her from her thoughts. She snuggled closer against him and savoured his scent.
“I thought you could read my mind,” she said.
“No. I can communicate with your mind through mine and meet you in dreams but your secrets are safe from me.”
She laughed, “You know all my secrets and I know none of yours.” She said playfully.
“I have no secrets from you, ask me anything and I will tell you.” He said earnestly; only nothing about Esquin de Floyran, he prayed. Catherine was too insightful to ask him about her initiator and besides, she did not wish to think of the brute in the twilight of their passion.
“Tell me about our kind, where do we come from, how did we come to be?”
Galeren smiled relieved at her question and sensitivity. He crooked his neck to look at her.
“There are many stories and legends but there is one that has stood the test of time and it is the one the Templars hold true.”
“Tell it!” she said excitedly.
“The legend tells that the first werewolf came from the forests of Germany and that it was a woman.”
“A woman?”
“Aye, a woman. ’Tis a woeful tale though. She was young, probably your age and by all accounts a little careless, also like you for she found herself walking home alone in the forest one eventide and was attacked by several men.” He paused and pulled her closer and Catherine thought of the incident on the road to Ashby and of the night she met De
Floyran.
“She was beaten and raped and left for dead and did indeed lie dying. However, as the blood drained from her body, the spirits of the trees were so angered by the event they’d witnessed that through their pity they turned her into a wolf and she healed quickly.
She found that she could transfer between human and wolf form thereafter and knowing who her attackers were, she dispatched of them one by one, as wolf, ripping their throats out. It is believed that the trees turned other women into werewolves and the gift was then passed down the generations to men as well.”
“Tree spirits? Do you believe the legend?” Catherine herself found it fascinating but knew that Galeren was a man of learning and doubted if he believed what sounded like nothing more than a faerie tale.
“I have tried to find less fanciful explanations and I have never conversed with the spirits of trees, yet I can find no better truth and you would have no more believed in werewolves than in the spirits of trees a month ago.”
“My mother believed in the spirits of trees, she used to ask them about the weather.” She looked up at him and smiled.
“And did they tell her?” Galeren asked curiously.
“She said they did, and she never got it wrong.”
“Mmmm,” Galeren pondered thoughtfully. “It sounds like your mother was specially tuned to nature.”
“She was, I think she knew about werewolves too,” Catherine said, propping herself up so she could look at him, “she told me wolves were good and watched over us. I dreamed of wolves too,” she added.
“You did?”
She nodded, “But I can’t remember the dreams.” She said half truthfully allowing De Floyran to enter her thoughts; she tried to expel him and said,
“I am surprised the Templars value that story as their history, seeing as a woman is the focus.”
“The Templar pretext fools all, we are werewolves first and the Temple is our disguise. Unfortunately our disguise is contrary to our true ideals. It was a good guise but it swept us away.”
Catherine frown quizzically and Galeren smiled at her, “We hold women in the highest regard but hide this through rules of chastity and celibacy. We act opposite to our true selves. We seek knowledge not God, we love women, not prayer and we hope for peace, not war. Sadly, we are a product of our circumstances and as thus we have been able to remain hidden.”
“Where are the women then? Templars are all men.”
“There are women, but our women hide too, behind habits. There are special convents, nothing like the one you were in. Most are close to Templar preceptories. They house the wives, sisters, and daughters of Templars. All are of our race. To the outside world they are just convents but within they are nothing like them. They are institutes of learning.”
“So husband and wife must live apart; sisters and brothers as nuns and Templars.”
“Yes, husbands visit their wives though, as often as they can. It is far from ideal but –”
“You do not mean to put me in one?” Catherine interrupted suddenly her voice filled with dread. She pulled away from his embrace to look at him, “They may not be true convents but I cannot spend my days locked behind walls draped in a nun’s habit.”
“No!” Galeren said passionately, “I never want to be parted from you. I plan to sever my ties with the Temple. Parsifal will deliver my decision in the next few days.” Galeren said resolutely.
He had already decided that he would send Parsifal back to Temple Bruer with his wishes. It was with a heavy heart that he would dismiss his young sergeant and hand him into the care of Richard de Gosbeck. De Gosbeck might seem brutish but he was a fine Templar and would do well by Parsifal, as Galeren would insist. His decision would be no surprise for Le Roux though, who was only too aware of Galeren’s thirst for change and impatience with the Templar rule.
Catherine was at once relieved but then was shadowed with apprehension, “Galeren I don’t want you to lose everything you know,” she started.
“Fear not,” he said quickly, “I have long been separating from the Temple. I love my brethren but not the way we live, even a well meaning lie is still a lie. We have brilliant minds amongst us; gifted men and women who can’t live together and must fight and murder those whom we have no quarrel with, our own brethren in fact, in different lands. All this for a belief that is not our own.”
“How did the Temple start as thus? You said werewolves founded it.” She moved close against him again.
“Aye, and for love would you believe.”
“Love?”
“Hughes de Payens was not born a werewolf, but rather like you he was made one. As a young knight he was attacked near some woods on the way back from an errand he had been on for his lord, the Count of Champagne. Brigands beat him half to death and left him with barely the shirt on his back. They took his horse and stripped him of everything.
He was left for the wolves and was nearly had by them ’cept he was saved by a she-wolf who fought another off as it made to attack. She changed into human form and carried him to an inn, the owner of which, also a werewolf reluctantly took him into his care. The woman’s mate, a brute of a man and the very wolf she had saved Hughes from, came for her and Hughes vowed to save her from him.
When he was well he went back to the place she had found him and was immediately met by her mate in human form who fought with him. Once again she came to Hughes rescue. However, she was slain by her mate, as she fell on the dagger in his hand while she tore his throat out. She crawled into the woods to die but Hughes found her and saw her change back into human form, she died in his arms before he realised that he had been bitten by her mate.
He later married Catherine St Clair and lived with what he saw as a terrible curse and was haunted by the memory of the woman who’d saved him. When his wife died he went on crusade and wished to seek absolution and forgiveness from God for his unnatural affliction.
While in Outremer he met other knights like him and seeing a chance for the redemption of his soul he, along with the others, formed the Knights of the Temple of Solomon, who sought to protect Christian pilgrims and the word of God. He hoped that the formation of the Order and his service would absolve him of his curse and that of the woman who’d saved him and they would be reunited in heaven. So it was. But the Temple grew and one man’s reason faded and left the rest with a unified race but a conflicting purpose. It is difficult to slay men for thinking differently to you, especially when some of them are werewolves just like you.”
“The infidel?”
“Another blind concept.” He said but then squeezed her tightly so she didn’t take offence by his critical remark; it was not meant at her.
“I know you know them as thus but they are just men and women who have different beliefs and different looks. It is difficult to run a man through when you know that underneath you are of the same race.
We learned a lot from our Palestinian brethren. As knowledge was shared and gained, the Temple changed but was and has been trapped under a clever guise which has, for a long time, become difficult for me to live with.”
It was a lot for Catherine to take in; that she was part of this was almost too overwhelming. This, coupled with how she felt about Galeren and the silhouette of Esquin de Floyran, crushed her. Today she had become a wolf and was bonded with a man that she loved so much she was afraid to think about it.
There was danger in what Galeren had decided to do; she saw the sense and reasoning for it but as his words came to her she felt underlying dread. She wanted to tell him, but what was her explanation? A feeling, what she was given in the dreams that Esquin de Floyran entered. He still managed to reach her when sometimes Galeren did not. She didn’t want Galeren to know for fear of worrying him and also because she wanted to know what it was De Floyran was showing her. She would tell Galeren as soon as it became clear. Perhaps Galeren’s break with the Temple was a good thing, perhaps they could get away from the evil she felt creeping towards them.
“Where will we go?” she said suddenly, “what will we do?”
“Far,” he said decisively and brushed her face gently with the back of his hand, “and whatever we do, will be together.”
Chapter Eleven
The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One) Page 17