The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One)

by R. L. Blackhurst

11th April 1310, Château de Gisors

  Raymond gulped his wine down, hoping it would dull his senses as he was forced to listen to De Merle once again chatter enthusiastically about the merits and skills of some whore whom he’d frequented while Raymond had been on his mission to Scotland. Raymond smiled and grunted at the appropriate times but found his thoughts drifting unwillingly back to Catherine. His undertaking had required him to be changed and repentant. He had, therefore, been obligated to practice chivalry in her presence in order to maintain the charade, something that was foreign to him. It had worked, she had trusted him and he had become honourable, even though he knew it was a sham.

  He’d participated in the rape and murder of countless women in his time with De Floyran and knew he should not give a care to the fact that he had tricked and betrayed this one. But since the burnings, he found his brutal resolve had been shaken and he wondered if there was a way back for him. Though he had gone to trap Catherine and deliver her into De Floyran’s hands, he’d found himself almost wanting to believe that his concern and repentance was genuine.

  He had never been in the company of a woman in such a way before. Most whom he had encountered had either been whores or hapless victims and his intentions towards them always base and lust driven. But the pantomime that he had recently engaged in had forced him to dig deep into his simple nature and practice humour and kindness. As he tuned in and out of De Merle’s conversation, the basis of which involved descriptions of various crude sexual acts, he found his countenance sadden and felt a profound loss; loss of his former self. How simple things had been before conscience found him.

  “Oh Christ!” De Merle cursed, splattering wine in Raymond’s direction. “It’s the cripple.”

  Raymond looked up to see De Nogaret limp into the main hall. It was supper and the hall consisted mostly of De Floyran’s men but there were also regular men from the garrison of the château, though they kept themselves apart from the boisterous and arrogant ex-Templars.

  Raymond had been here for several days now and had managed to avoid being trapped in conversation with De Nogaret by making himself appear busier than he actually was. In truth, he had been wrestling with his newly discovered conscience and found himself often seeking solitude, where he slipped deep into thought. Strangely, now he was back with his comrades he felt that he was performing a new charade; one to ensure they didn’t sense a change in him. No one would expect him to change, but nevertheless he found himself being mindful of his actions and conversation. Werewolves were as adept at perceiving change in thought, mood, and character as they were at distinguishing different scents and emotions.

  He had exchanged few words with De Nogaret since his return but seeing as he was heading straight towards them and food was only now being placed on the dais table, he knew that this time he would have to endure the wretched councillor’s company.

  De Nogaret’s usually gaunt and sickly face had a healthy glow and he was smiling as he lurched up to the table.

  “He has him!” he said voraciously.

  “Elaborate De Nogaret,” De Merle said, refilling his wine cup and that of Raymond’s.

  “De Massard and several others, including Gerard de Villiers. They are in the dungeons of Chinon!” he paused and pinched his nose briefly as if in discomfort.

  “Are you well?” De Merle said.

  “Yes, yes.” De Nogaret replied. “Some wine would be well met.”

  “Of course,” De Merle said and rolled his eyes at Raymond as he reached for an empty cup and filled it.

  “Ahhhh,” De Nogaret said after he’d taken a sip and pulled out a chair to sit opposite Raymond and De Merle. “’Tis good news, is it not?” he beamed as he sat down.

  “Aye,” De Merle grumbled, “it means we can burn them and get on with enjoying our spoils. I am sick of this waiting and watching.”

  “De Floyran is returning here as we speak, just a day behind the messenger. I am sure he is keen to get back to his prize and honour his promise to me.”

  “Mmm,” De Merle said resentfully, “his prize. It annoys me how he covets Galeren’s bitch. She should be for the use of all his enemies.”

  “I agree,” De Nogaret said zealously, licking his lips.

  “You’ve said nothing Raymond.” De Merle said, turning to his friend with a curious look on his face. “What do you think?” he prompted.

  Raymond pinched the bridge of his nose, mirroring the action that he’d seen De Nogaret perform several times since his arrival.

  “I have a bad head. I need some air.” He stood and made to leave.

  “But you haven’t eaten!” De Merle said.

  “Later,” Raymond growled and strode quickly from the hall. De Merle watched him with a bemused and slightly disgruntled expression.

  “Something is up his arse.” De Merle said frowning. “He is acting strangely.”

  “Perhaps he too is keen to get back to the way things were. These past years have been frustrating for all of us. However, now we can all look forward to enjoying our rewards.” De Nogaret said, his excitement was barely containable and he had an optimism that he had not felt since before Galeren broke his leg. De Floyran had made a promise to him and now that needed to be honoured. He would become one of them and he hoped that he would be born anew and that all his complaints would soon leave him.

  “You may be right there.” De Merle said and then shrugged. “More wine and food for us then!” he poured them both another cup and chipped his against De Nogaret’s as he realised that he now had a new ear and one that was perhaps more interested.

  “Have you been to the tavern called la Sirène in the village yet?” he began again his tale of debauchery.

  Raymond’s head was aching, not with physical pain but instead with opposing thoughts that were vexing. He left the château and walked briskly through the town. It was dark but he carried on until he had left it behind him and was under the cover of forest, only then did he remove his clothing and change.

  He then ran, and ran and ran and ran trying to recapture his old rhythm, but it was gone. De Floyran was returning and as De Nogaret had said, he would claim his prize and then more of his brethren would burn in the King’s fires. He must have lost his self, he thought, because he couldn’t allow it, any of it. Was it just witnessing the burning and suffering of his kind that had given him a conscience? Was it the valour of Catherine, and the love she had for her mate and the brotherhood she had only just joined? What he had said to her was true, it was too late for him to join the ranks of the just and the bold. He knew that even if he acted honourably, he could never come back from all the evil he had done. Like a catholic in purgatory, he would instead linger in a netherworld of neither good nor evil. But, he reasoned, at least he would no longer be in hell. He stopped and gathering his nerve returned to where he had come from, with his decision finally made. He had already been a traitor and now would be one once again.

  Catherine awoke and groaned as her reality closed in on her. Her dreams had been light and pleasant, though now in waking thought she could not recall them. She had been a fool to trust Raymond Caradas. With a history so violent and pitiless how could she have believed that there had come a limit to it? His sentiment had seemed genuine but she still should have been more cautious. Her concern for Galeren and the others had made her forego good sense and she had rushed recklessly to her doom. Now it looked like none would be saved. She sat up as she sensed someone’s approach and knew that it was her betrayer. She quickly slipped off her linen gown, changed and crouched in the darkness waiting for the opportunity to alter the chain of events.

  He who approached stopped outside the door and all was silent for a moment. The key in the lock turned and the door handle slowly moved and then there was silence again. She heard movement suddenly and rustling and then the door swung open very slowly. No man entered, but instead another wolf. It was indeed Caradas but he must have been mindful of her intent. She pounced nevertheless
, but he was ready for her and his strength and experience prevailed. He dropped, rolled and kicked out with his back legs catching her in mid flight, winding her. Catherine cried out in shock as he got on his feet and leapt upon her.

  You were right! he said, as he fought to still her. Give me another chance.

  How can I trust you? she struggled beneath him.

  How can you not? he countered. You have no choice but to. De Floyran is on his way back here and once he has returned no one will be allowed near you. Galeren and the others are imprisoned in Chinon. I offer what I did before. I will take you to Chinon and we will get them out. Think about it, you are trapped here, why would I offer you this option now?

  To taunt me, to give me hope and then take it away! she screamed in his head. He stared into her wild eyes and then nodding, he released her.

  If you believe that, then kill me. He said backing away. Do what you planned to do when I entered.

  Catherine got to her feet and looked at him, her eyes still glowered but her hackles lowered. I don’t know what to believe anymore, she said miserably.

  I am sorry. He offered. I have known only cruelty and selfishness for all of my thirty four wretched years. It is difficult to change what is engrained in your nature. Could you become cruel and merciless when for all your life you have been kind and compassionate?

  I could. She answered assuredly. Towards you and your comrades. I could kill you and think nothing of it. I would be glad of it, proud of it, when you have threatened all that I love. She sighed. I witnessed Galeren slay five men on a country road because they wanted to hurt me. Was it wrong? she asked rhetorically. I did not understand love then and was shocked at his ferocity, but now I do.

  ’Tis different. Raymond said. I think you would kill me to protect and defend that which you love, but you would not practice cruelty and torment. The path of evil is not one you can easily return from. I will never be able to be purged of my sins or find excuse for them. As it is I do this because I cannot let my race be destroyed by the scourge of humanity. There must be a thread of my soul that connects me to them and it became wound tight when I saw them burn. I do not ask for forgiveness and expect to lose my throat the moment Galeren is free, but at least . . . He did not finish but instead shook his head. My fate belongs to you.

  Catherine nodded. So what is next? she asked. She would practice caution in her trust of him, but she had been right about his sentiment.

  We must make haste. De Floyran is but a day behind the messenger he sent. I have to get you out of here and then to Chinon. I am one of De Floyran’s most trusted men. There are over one hundred of us imprisoned in Chinon and with that force De Floyran’s army will be outnumbered. It is then up to Galeren and the others but I imagine they will descend on the dungeons of the Paris Temple and then to here.

  Catherine went to the bed and finding her gown on the floor she changed and slipped back into it.

  “Then let’s go.” She said.

  Sshhhh, Raymond cautioned, as he raised his nose and sniffed the air. He changed and went swiftly to the door. Shaking his head he opened it, to reveal De Nogaret stood on the other side.

  “What are you doing here?” Raymond demanded angrily.

  “I heard voices and thought . . . ” he broke off and his eyes widened as he took in the sight of Raymond’s appearance.

  “Voices from where? Down the bottom of the stairwell?” Raymond challenged, frowning doubtingly. “You have no reason to be up here unless you were planning on mischief, but you are a fool if you think you could mess with this lass, she would tear your head off!” he snarled but then realised from the look on De Nogaret’s face that it was his own presence here, and in what manner, that now was in question.

  “What are you doing here?” De Nogaret said, looking through the gap in the doorway to see Catherine. He was no fool and he could see that she was not in any distress and he very much doubted that this was a tender tryst between them. De Merle had aired his concern about Raymond’s strange behaviour and his presence here could only mean one thing.

  Raymond caught the flicker of understanding in De Nogaret’s eyes and seeing that he was about to scream out for help at the top of his lungs, he promptly slammed his elbow into the councillor’s nose and dragged him inside the room. De Nogaret’s nose exploded and his scream was muffled by the amount of blood that entered his mouth.

  “Christ, I’ve wanted to do that since I met you!” Raymond spat as he threw De Nogaret onto the floor.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Catherine asked, as De Nogaret writhed at her feet.

  “There,” Raymond said rushing to the bed. He ripped the linen sheet from the mattress and began to tear it into sheds. First, he gagged De Nogaret as he tried to protest through a mouthful of blood and then adeptly hamfasted him. De Nogaret attempted a muffled scream as Raymond wound the linen tightly around his ankles and yanked both of them upwards, winding the bindings around each of his thighs. He then pulled his arms behind him and in turn tied his wrists to each of his ankles which were now bound to their respective thighs. De Nogaret now lay with his wrists bound behind him, lashed to his ankles with his heels against his buttocks.

  “You can’t leave him gagged. His nose is broken; he won’t be able to breathe.”

  “You see,” Raymond pointed out, “compassion, you can’t help it. This is the man who wrote the indictment against us, he relishes the thought of burning Galeren and the others. If he drowns in his own blood, I care not. It is no more than he deserves.”

  Catherine nodded and turning from the hamfasted councillor, she followed Raymond to the chamber door.

  “Better grab your cloak. You are far too conspicuous like that.” He remarked. Catherine quickly grabbed her black woollen cloak, threw it round her shoulders and pulled the hood over her head. Raymond nodded approvingly and leaving the room, she closed the door behind her and turned the key in the lock.

  “Get ready for fight or flight if this doesn’t work.” Raymond said, as he gathered his clothes and redressed.

  The château appeared deathly quiet now, deep as it was into the night. The passageways were dimly lit, the torches were burning low and their greasy scent made Catherine’s stomach lurch, but she wondered whether that was just her nerves. As they made their way to the bailey, the odd servant crossed their path. Fortunately, none were aware that Catherine was of any importance or that De Nogaret was hamfasted in the very room where she was supposed to be imprisoned. They merely glanced in interest as they saw Raymond and the young woman pass by. It was De Merle and the likes that Raymond hoped they did not encounter. They moved swiftly across the bailey and to the stables, where Raymond quickly saddled up one of the stallions. He pulled Catherine up into the saddle behind him and rode towards the gate.

  “This one’s long overdue home!” Raymond said, winking to the watch guard who approached them.

  The guard cast his eyes over Catherine briefly and nodded in understanding. Yawning, he motioned to the others on duty at the gate who began to open it in a leisurely fashion. Casually Raymond trotted out the château bailey and down the road. When they were out of the town, they left the road and went into the forest. There they abandoned the horse and changed knowing that both their speed and stamina outmatched that of the stallion and with time against them, they wasted none of it.

  12th April 1310, Chinon

  When they reached Chinon, dawn had just broken and Catherine was opposed to Raymond’s suggestion that they wait until night fell again before they entered the château. But she soon accepted his decision; if rescue was to be a success, then it would need to be conducted under the cover of darkness when the château was asleep but for a few watch guards. Though he did not doubt those within would soon awaken when the commotion ensued, it was better to surprise them when most were abed. In any case, he needed to get both himself and Catherine some suitable attire and obtain another horse. Raymond was experienced in such matters, having often f
ound himself in need of both at awkward times and they would have to enter the château as humans. He was still De Floyran’s man and once he took his “prisoner” to the dungeons, freeing the others was just a matter for course.

  And so it was. With patience that was difficult for Catherine to maintain, they waited for the witching hour to arrive. Their clothing was plain and the horse he’d stolen was less than what was expected of a knight of Raymond’s standing but he would be recognised nonetheless and admitted inside on that factor alone. They rode towards the Château de Chinon and on approach Raymond spurred the mare into a healthy gallop as they approached the postern gate.

  “Come on! Open up!” Raymond screamed, making himself sound angry. The guards, all werewolves, were well known to him and so his new charade began.

  “Sir Raymond,” Guy de Lance looked down from the battlements. “What is the trouble?” he asked as he gestured for the gate to be opened.

  “No trouble now that I’m here,” Raymond replied gruffly, shaking his head as if at wits end. He rode purposefully through the gate and into the large bailey. He dismounted and shoved the reins of his horse into the hands of the groom that rushed to aid him. He then pulled Catherine out of the saddle and held her fast. She struggled against him, but this time, knowing their plan, she was merely helping to authenticate the farce.

  “It may be a grim task, but I ask you to go and rouse De Floyran if he is asleep. I have battled with this hellcat since Scotland and am only too eager to rid myself of his prize. I lost my horse and armour thanks to her antics. Now quick to it! I need to rest my beaten bones.”

  “De Floyran is not here,” Guy de Lance said.

  “Not here!” Raymond bellowed in surprise.

  “Nay, he left yesterday, in the afternoon.”

  “Where to?”

  “Gisors, he expects you there I am sure.”

  “No, he said to bring her here. Why has he left for Gisors . . . unless . . .” he broke off as if in thought, “Galeren de Massard, is he here?”

  “Aye,” Guy replied smiling. “The night before last they came. It was quite something. De Villiers and several others were with him. Not a drop of blood was spilt, well except that of the human guards De Floyran sent to dupe them.” He laughed.

  “Good,” Raymond grinned, “good, but damn it! I had hoped this trial was over.” He said shaking Catherine. “I will have to follow him tomorrow, at least after I have fed and rested some.”

  “Of course,” De Lance agreed, looking over Catherine whose grubby face and dishevelled appearance was in keeping with one who had put up a relentless fight. “Where do you want to put her?”

  “Out of my sight!” Raymond answered, “at least until the morrow. A night in a dungeon may cool her hot blood.”

  “I’ll see to it.”

  Raymond clucked his tongue and raised his finger. “She is stronger than she looks. Best let the responsibility be mine. Believe me, I would like nothing better than to give her the hiding she deserves but De Floyran would have my guts for garters, that much he values her. Christ knows why! I’ll see her secure before I take rest. If you will take me to the dungeons,” Raymond prompted.

  “Mmm,” Guy mused, not wishing to become embroiled in something that he might live to regret. “As you wish, follow me.”

  Raymond squeezed Catherine’s arm encouragingly and pushed her forwards, following Guy as he sloped across the bailey and led them through the adjoining courtyard towards the Fort du Coudray. With each step closer to the dungeon keep, Catherine could sense Galeren and that he was alive. She had never been filled with such hope or fear in all of her life. She was just moments away from freeing him and the others.

  Raymond pushed her onward, roughly and in character and Guy kept looking back at her, with eyes full of suspicion and curiosity. Catherine fixed him with a scathing gaze in return and this was not part of the farce, it was with genuine sentiment for one who had betrayed his brethren and had watched them burn.

  As they approached the keep entrance, Guy stopped them and continued towards the guards on watch on his own, he spoke to both men motioning to Catherine and exchanged banter for a few moments. Raymond’s grip tightened and Catherine could feel his anxiety. Guy laughed and then motioned for them to join him. The guards unlocked the thick set doors and admitted them into the keep. Raymond nodded courteously and noted that they handed Guy a ring of keys. They followed him onward and down a long passageway at the end of which was a large iron gate.

  Catherine could smell the putrid aroma of the dungeon rise up to torment her senses. The memory of the horror of Montlhéry came back to her and with it the smell of death and torture. She let out a little cry of distress that was half false and half genuine. Guy fumbled with the keys and tried several until he found the right one. The lack of conversation made Raymond nervous so he yawned and mumbled some unintelligible curse. The gate opened and they descended a wide flight of stairs into the first level of the dungeon. There were many cells and each was full of men who stared out at them through hollow eyes.

  “Their spirit is broken,” Guy said callously. “Some of these men have been in dungeons for over two years now. You cannot cage a wolf and expect it to live for long, eh? It is the human spirit that hangs on to hope, ’tis why they languish. The lucky ones are those that are already dead.”

  “You think?” Raymond said, pushing Catherine away from him. Guy looked puzzled at the action and tilted his head at Raymond for explanation. Raymond just shook his head at him grimly.

  “Guy, like me you chose the wrong path. I cannot help you or change what is about to happen, only to tell you that you should have held true.”

  “What?” he said even more confused and looked back to where Catherine had been, but she was no longer there. It was too late, he fell down and a gurgle of a cry was uttered from his mouth, but with no throat it had no chance for escape.

  “Quickly!” Raymond urged, as Catherine changed back and pulled the cloak from Guy’s body to cover herself. They raced through the dungeon chamber, trying every key in every lock until it opened each cell door. Attempting to quell her impatience and growing concern, Catherine scanned the faces of the occupants of each cell desperately trying to find a familiar face. The freed Templars swiftly exited their abodes of incarceration and both dazed and overwhelmed they waited for the rest of their brothers to be freed. Raymond and Catherine raced down the next level of steps and into another dungeon room, where more cells and the faces of hapless prisoners met them.

  “Catherine!” an excited voice cried out. It was Parsifal and with joy Catherine grabbed Raymond’s arm and pulled him over to the cell where the young knight now clung excitedly to the bars. Richard, Gerard and John St Clair joined him; the look on their faces was that of utter astonishment.

  “He’s here to help!” Catherine said, as she noted their expressions change to that of mistrust and loathing when they caught sight of her accomplice. He was well known to them and their concern was justified.

  “Please trust him.” She implored and then with urgency said, “where is Galeren?”

  Parsifal embraced her as the cell door swung open. “He is here somewhere,” Parsifal reassured her. “De Floyran took him somewhere. Come on.” He looked around and saw a narrow passageway leading off to the left of the main dungeon room. Raymond joined them as they ran down it and entered yet another room.

  “There!” Catherine said, pointing at the door of an enclosed room. Raymond searched on the ring of keys for the right one.

  “Hurry!” Catherine cried impatiently, knowing that he was inside.

  The key slipped into the lock and Raymond turned it. The door swung open and Catherine ran inside.

  “Galeren!” she screamed, seeing the white wolf standing alert and pressed up against the bars of his cell. She saw the relief enter his blue eyes and grabbed the keys from Raymond.

  “It’ll be the same key.” Raymond said and backed up as Galeren changed and gl
owered at him.

  The door opened and Galeren grabbed Catherine in one arm, “Catherine you fool!” he cried.

  His whole being was ready to explode with relief but the sight of Caradas filled him with trepidation. He knew nothing of his motives and could not be certain that this was not just another part of De Floyran’s elaborate trap and an opportunity to cause more torment.

  “What the fuck is going on?” he demanded. He looked at Parsifal who stood in the doorway and then back at Caradas.

  “He helped me Galeren,” Catherine said.

  “He brought you here to give you to him. It is a trap!” Galeren said, but he sensed fear and passivity in Caradas.

  “It was a trap but now he is here to help.”

  “She speaks the truth,” Raymond said. “I will not waste time explaining, as we need to get out of here before we bring the whole château down on us. I know it is hard, but you have to just trust me.”

  “Trust him!” Parsifal said, nodding his head. Galeren shook his own still wary, finding it hard to accept but he knew that they wasted precious time floundering.

  “Are the others free?” Galeren asked.

  “Not quite,” Raymond said and cautiously holding his hand out to Catherine he took the keys back from her. “We must hurry,” he said and left the room.

  “He is right.” Catherine stressed and took Galeren’s hand and led him from the room. In the main dungeon Galeren saw what he had hoped to see just days before, over a hundred brothers freed from their cells and ready to free others. He relaxed a little then and allowed himself to savour the sight. He nudged Catherine and shook his head at her.

  “You are trouble, lady.”

  “Me?” she protested, “you are the one who is wont to getting himself into hopeless situations.”

  “We’ll discuss this and your wilfulness later,” he smiled at her briefly but his expression hardened as Raymond approached them. It was still too hard for him to trust him.

  “It’s done.” Raymond said. “The next call is yours.”

  “Damn right it is.” Galeren said with an edge of warning in his voice. Gerard, Richard and the others he’d come with moved to his side.

  “Nothing like a bit of female intervention,” Richard said heartily, grinning at Catherine.

  “The goal remains the same.” Galeren said, keeping his tone serious. “We still go to free the others.” He looked at Raymond. “The Temple and Gisors are where they are being held. Is there anywhere else?” he demanded.

  “That is it.” Raymond answered. “It was convenient to keep everyone contained in only a few places for De Floyran’s men to keep guard.”

  “His men include you,” Galeren said angrily. “Don’t dare to put yourself in our camp, traitor.”

  “I wouldn’t be here if not for him.” Catherine said, trying to pacify Galeren even though she understood his sentiment.

  “I appreciate that, but he has caused the suffering of many and with great pleasure over countless years. I may be grateful for this act but you will always be my enemy and you are not beyond my wrath.”

  “Fine,” Raymond said neutrally, “but first let me get you out of here.”

  “I agree,” Gerard said hurriedly, “we can settle personal matters later when we are on less hostile ground.”

  “The doors of the keep are guarded and were locked behind us.” Raymond continued, “I doubt they will open them for you.” He looked at Galeren, raising his eyebrows.

  “Understood,” Galeren snarled, “but I will be right behind you and if I smell a hint of deception you will go down.”

  Raymond nodded and Galeren and Catherine followed close behind him, while Gerard and the rest of Galeren’s troop briefed the other Templars of their plan. They retraced their steps and approached the doors of the keep.

  “Better keep back,” Raymond warned, “if they sense you, the doors will never be opened and we are not free until we are on the other side of them.”

  His point was valid but this was the very thing that concerned Galeren, they may be out of their cells but they were still within the dungeon. Could he trust a man that he had no reason to and with whom he shared a bitter history?

  Raymond banged on the door. “We’re done!” he shouted forcefully and with anticipation in each of their hearts they heard the key turn slowly in the door. Galeren pushed Catherine back against the wall out of the way. The door open and Raymond immediately wedged his boot into the opening to prevent it from closing.

  “Now, to some well earned food and rest!” he said jovially passing through it.

  “Where is Guy?” one of the guards asked, looking over Raymond’s shoulder into the obscurity of the dungeon.

  “Right here,” Galeren said coming out of the darkness. He grabbed the curious guard by his throat and Raymond reached out for the other, but he was too swift and made his escape down the steps.

  “Breach!” the guard screamed repeatedly, as he took flight across the bailey.

  “Damn!” Galeren said as he broke the other guard’s neck. “Let’s go!” he yelled back into the dungeon keep. “Stay out of any trouble.” He said to Catherine and then changed.

  Catherine followed suit and watched as Raymond caught up with the fleeing guard. Both had also changed but Raymond had the upper hand. The tussle was brief and victorious for him but at that moment several other guards came spilling into the bailey to witness the assault. Four of them changed and raced towards Raymond while the other two retreated and cried out warnings of their own.

  “The dungeons have been opened! The dungeons have been opened!!!”

  Help him! Catherine cried as the four wolves closed in on Raymond. Galeren was already on his way and slammed into one of them, they both hit the ground in a skid knocking the back legs out from under another. Catherine raced to join in the fray, ignoring Galeren’s warning to stay out of it. Raymond had engaged the third and she found herself faced with the fourth, who raced forward and then paused momentarily to consider his challenger.

  A bitch, this should be easy! he said, lowering his head ready to pounce. She cocked her head at him as if a little dumbfounded and unsure, but this was merely to give him the false security of an easy victory. He leapt, teeth bared and she stood as if frozen by fear until the last possible moment. She then dropped, rolled and reared up as he sailed over her head and sank her sharp teeth into the softness of his belly. She tore at him viciously and he howled and fell out of the air.

  Catherine leapt, crushing his fallen body beneath her and then stood over him as he writhed with his innards spilling from his abdomen. Her bloody teeth snapped at him as she snarled. Never underestimate a bitch. She took his throat out and then looked up to see a mass of fur descending from the steps of the keep. Galeren skidded up to her, having dispatched his own two foes.

  I told you to stay out of it! he said looking over her angrily.

  You told me to stay out of any trouble, this was no trouble. She said conceitedly. We can discuss it later.

  Impossible woman, he said shaking his head. But had no time to argue as more of De Floyran’s army of werewolves descended into the bailey to meet them. Raymond backed up to join them and De Villiers, De Gosbeck, Parsifal and the others formed a wall ready to break the charge of the Templar traitors.

  Be careful, Galeren stressed to Catherine but she just nodded with her eyes fixed forward. He had obviously decided that ordering her to go to the back of the group or to stay out of it was pointless, for she would always disobey him. Therefore his words were heartfelt and she would do her best to heed them. For a moment a standoff ensued, with neither side knowing whether to make the first move. Galeren stepped forward, isolating himself from the others.

  You cannot possibly want this! he said looking about the group that stood before them. I know you had little choice then but now you do have a choice. Let no more blood be spilt.

  We have made our choice, one of them, Germain Otricourt said resolutely. The Temple is
finished; we know your foolish idealisms Galeren. All you offer is hardship and poverty. You think we will give up our status to live in the bushes with you. We wish to remain in rank and with comfort, wealth and the spoils of battle as we always have.

  You are a fool if you think that this pretence will hold. Galeren threw back at all of them. Do you think the French King will let you live, he knows it would be too dangerous. You will be destroyed when your purpose is served and that is now brothers!

  We have the word of De Floyran and he has assured us that the King wishes to keep his powerful army. Perhaps there are those amongst your group who would rather come to this side of the bailey! Germain said in the same confident vein.

  Galeren shook his head. If there are any among you who hold this deception against their nature then now is your chance to be free of it.

  There followed a deathly silence as Galeren once again surveyed the unmoving group willing some of them, any of them to break from the ranks and come to his side. It was still hard for him to stomach such betrayal and yet one had already broken ranks and it was a man he would have thought would rather die than join with him. He looked over to Raymond Caradas but then his head snapped back to the group when he heard the descent of one.

  A young wolf moved forward. I never wished this! he said, as he pushed through the others but they were his last words, for Germain Otricourt uttered the command and the others set about him.

  No! Catherine cried looking away in horror as the lone wolf was torn apart. Galeren curled his lip in disgust, Kill or be killed. Then so be it! he said with fury and with no more hesitation or need for conversation he surged forward. With teeth bared and his eyes filled with savage determination, he initiated the assault. In sync, his group joined the charge and their enemies took the challenge and advanced against them.

  The clash knocked Catherine onto her back, as bodies and gnashing teeth fell about her. She struggled to regain her feet and find a foe to fight but the mêlée was chaotic. Blood sprayed through the air, hitting her muzzle and blinding her vision. The sound of snapping jaws, tearing flesh and the guttural growls and painful yelps resounded in her sensitive ears, destroying her coherence. She turned in the confusion and suddenly felt teeth sinking into her hind quarter. She quickly turned to fend off her attacker but he pulled her down and towards him and she heard her flesh tear. Crippled by his bite, she tried to lunge forward and snap at his muzzle to make him release her, but he continued to drag her and she could not find the leverage to reach him.

  Voices in her mind and cries confused her and she looked about the carnage to see if there was any she knew who would come to her aid. She clawed at the ground to stop him from dragging her but it served only to cause deeper lacerations to her flesh rather than to slow him down or render her free of him.

  Get off her you bastard!

  Relief flooded her as she saw Galeren upon her tormentor’s back, his bloodied jaws clamped around his neck. She felt the release of her leg and then heard the chilling crack of bone as Galeren broke his neck with his mouth.

  Now do you understand why I asked you to stay out of it? he flashed her with a told-you-so look and then screamed. Down!

  Catherine obeyed, ducking as a large wolf leapt over her and crashed into Galeren knocking him out of her sight and back into the madness of the fray.

  Galeren! she screamed as she searched for him in the mayhem. She felt another close beside her and bared her teeth as she made to bite the would-be assailant but drew back instantly as she recognised the wolf beside her.

  Let me help you out of this, Parsifal said.

  But Galeren, she protested.

  You are injured, he said. You will help him better if you are out of harm’s way. Galeren can take care of himself.

  Reluctantly and still searching for sight of her mate she allowed Parsifal to escort her away from the conflict and to a safe haven, in the lee of the keep steps.

  Now stay here and rest, he commanded.

  Catherine watched Parsifal race back into the fight and was amazed at how much he had matured. She searched the bedlam that was before her and tried to find Galeren once again. She hated being helpless and useless but her badly torn leg meant that there would be no more battling for her, not on this day in any event.

  The bailey was a scene of bloody slaughter. The wolves fought ferociously with each other, leaping upon one another with gnashing teeth and rolling in the dust of the courtyard. She could see the blood spray and hear the cries of agony and howls of vengeance as flesh tore and bone broke. It was so brutal she could not understand where the viciousness came from. Her senses told her that was unnatural for wolves to fight like this, and so the fighting was savage in a way that could only be described as human. She should not be surprised that werewolves would turn on each other, men did and even if they were in the same precious number as the race of werewolves were, they would still try to destroy each other. It was the human side of their nature that was at work now.

  Bodies of wolves that had fallen were everywhere, but there were those of men too which was bewildering. Some human guards had rushed into the bailey, but upon seeing the madness that was unfolding, had just as quickly fled from it. She shook her head as if to regain her wits, as she saw that the numbers of men’s bodies were beginning to outnumber those of the wolves. Then it hit her. The fallen in the bailey were all werewolves and they were changing back, in death, to their human form. She remembered Huguard Parry’s fallen body doing the same after she had slain him. She suddenly saw a flash of white and focused on it to see Galeren.

  Galeren looked about him to assess the damage. Some of De Floyran’s men were beginning to disperse, realising that they were outnumbered and some had decided to switch sides.

  ’Tis over, Galeren said to Parsifal as he ran over to join him. Where is Catherine? Is she safe?

  She is. She is in the lee of the steps. Despite her injury she did not wish to leave you.

  Galeren shook his head. Only I could have the misfortune to have both a sergeant and a mate so reckless and wayward in their nature.

  I call it luck. Parsifal said. Go to her or she’ll do something rash.

  Galeren looked around the bailey to ensure that it was secure and then made his way over to where Catherine was hidden. She watched him pad through the carnage towards her, with his head held low and his eyes looking cautiously about him. His coat was drenched with blood and he looked like a hound from the deepest recesses of hell, but she could smell that the blood was not his. Galeren! she cried with relief.

  He nudged at her injured hind leg. Christ Catherine! Could you be any more injured? he snapped irritably.

  I’m fine! Could you be any more sympathetic or pleased to see me? she retorted.

  You cannot imagine how pleased I am to see you, but as always we are reunited when a battle is about to break out. I thought Caradas was about to deliver you into the hands of De Floyran and I wanted nothing more than to die. I wish you would not be so reckless! he shook his head and then added, but then where would I be without your recklessness?

  Better. She said praising his sentiment. What now?

  I need to get you out of here and then we need to go to Paris.

  De Floyran will soon know what has happened. De Nogaret came upon Raymond and me as we made to escape.

  What became of him?

  Raymond broke his nose, gagged and hamfasted him.

  Still alive then? Galeren noted, shaking his head. He looked around the bailey. Come, we must tend to your wounds and those of others before we go to Paris.

  Slowly Catherine got to her feet and, with Galeren at her side, limped across the bailey to rejoin the others. Confident that they were not going to meet any further resistance they paused in thought momentarily for their fallen, and then helping the injured they began to make their way out of the château.

  Chapter Thirty Four