Read Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves Online
Authors: W. A. Hoffman
to calltheir bluff.”
Liam seemed coiled with anticipation. “Who knows?
Who would ya ’ave me tell?”
“I will tell Theodore; and Gaston and I will tellAgnes,” I
said. “Once they are told, I give you free rein to disclose what
you will. I trust your judgment. And,” I added, “
you
are our best
spy.”
He laughed only to quickly sober. “I be tryin’ ta na’ to
be our best gossip these days.”
“Your heart has always beeninthe proper place ineither
endeavor,”I assured him.
He continued to study the table where the women and
babes were and he sighed. “The whole time we be here… An’
afore, in Port Royal. I felt I gotta keep an eye on everything jus’
ta keep us safe.”
“I thank you for that,” I said. “I am relieved that you—
both of you—have been protecting our women and children
while Gastonand I were offrevelinginmadness.”
“Fromwhat I heard, ya had good cause,”Liamsaid. “Aye, we did; but be that as it may, thank you.” Liam was deep in thought. “Would ya ’ave me tell the
meno’ the
Queen
?”
“Aye,” I answered quickly, only to be gripped by how
such gossip of a lie could be perceived by men I had not seen in
six months. “Liam, I would not have our friends think we lied to
them. They must be made to understand we are lying to the
world, not them. And, truly, the world need not even believe it.
So no one need act in any way other than… knowing, perhaps.”
glanced heavenward. The atrium was now in shadow: the sun had sunk to the west.
“Theybe at the taverns near everynight,”Liamsaid.
“Well, perhaps Gaston and I will be able to see them tonight then. I was thinking it would have to wait until the morrow.”
He shook his head. “Nay, we be damn near the only Brethrenthat na’ be rovin’. Theybe bored.”
“I suppose that works to our advantage,”I said; thoughI found it sad they were trapped in a strange port with only rum for company. “Please find us before you go in search of them. Now, I will go and inform Theodore of the trouble we shall cause.”
He nodded and smiled ruefully on my behalf; and I made my way to where Theodore and Rucker sat at a table with a bottle ofwine.
Theodore watched me approach with open curiosity. “What are youabout?”he asked inFrench.
“You know me well,” I said in English—mindful of the listening ears above us—and took a swig of their bottle. “Well, I —we—are going to…” I stopped and shook my head. I could not jest about it. “You have worked very hard to insure we have a future here; and that… Theodore, I would not have you think we do anything to make a mockery ofthe efforts you have made we do anything to make a mockery ofthe efforts you have made withgood faithonour behalf. But…”
“Oh Good Lord,” Theodore sighed heavily and slumped his head into his hands.
Beside him, Rucker was stifling laughter. “What are you goingto do, Will?”
I pulled the Marquis’ letter to Gaston from my belt and slid it under Theodore’s nose. “Read.” I looked to Rucker. “I would have youread it, too.”
Theodore gave another great sigh and began to read, passing each page to Rucker as he finished. When he was done, he took a great swigofthe wine and studied the skyuntilRucker turned over the last page to signalhis completion.
“He knows he fights a losingbattle,”I said.
Rucker nodded thoughtfully.
Theodore finally met my gaze and nodded as well, but his words were harsher. “He is fighting a losing battle to maintain his family name and his noble house. Something tells me that whatever it is youwishto do, it willnot aid himinthat.”
“We want the girl,” I said flatly. “Gaston feels very responsible for her. Wrong as the circumstances of her conception were, she is his daughter. He will not have her suffer at the hands ofa mother who hates himor a familythat views her as an embarrassment or a nuisance. And the Marquis does not wishthat, either.”
Theodore smiled with resignation. “So, what will you do?”
I told them.
“That is very smart,” Rucker said: his eyes bright and
“That is very smart,” Rucker said: his eyes bright and unfocused as he continued to consider the matter over his wine.
“Where will you live?” Theodore asked without looking at me. His dismayand disapprovalwere palpable betweenus.
I sighed, and then my anger rose. “I do not know. Damn it, Theodore. I will not live a lie. Not for you. Not for the Marquis. Not for the Holy Roman Church. Not for my father. And not even for Gaston. That is what I learned in the hold of that ship this year. That is what I resolved while tortured. I will not forsake truth. I amas I am. And even ifI amhanged for it or must suffer eternal damnation, I will not forsake my love: I will not forsake the truth of my soul. And I pray every day that I will receive divine assistance inlivingas I must.”
The happy chatter of noise behind me had stilled, and I realized how very loud my voice had risen. Theodore was gazing at me with surprise and wonder. Rucker had tears in his eyes. I stood: wanting nothing more than escape. Strong and familiar arms closed about me, and I closed myeyes and felt his kiss.
“Youare loved,”Gastonbreathed inmyear.
“That is the most important thinginmylife,”I whispered.
“Will,”Theodore said quietly.
I opened my eyes and met his gaze. I found great admiration there, and I felt my heart might burst with the ache of
would not see you suffer. That has been my concern all along: that you would be made to suffer for your choices. I wished to save you that. But it has already occurred. And you are correct, you would suffer more to be someone you are not than you you would suffer more to be someone you are not than you would suffer fromany pain or death that could inflicted upon you by heartless men. Oddly, that is what many of us told your sister.” He sighed. “And here I was… probably mimicking her thinking—probablyfor the same reason.”
I tried to speak, but my breath caught, and I paused to wipe tears from my cheeks and find my voice. “Thank you. I would spare you all. My greatest fear regarding my choices is that others will suffer because of me. I do not want that, but… I do not think any man should live in misery to save another if… There is no end insight:ifthe sacrifice willsolve nothing.
“My father, the church, and all small-minded men judge and think they have the right to make others live as they wish. It will not stop until…”
We kill them
, I thought bitterly. “Until men rise up and tell them
nay
. Sadly, that will likely involve death for a very long time. We will have to kill them, or they us; because they cannot countenance our not being as they wish. It is a war. And even if it can never be won, it cannot be allowed to go unfought.”
I shook my head and sighed. “Thank you.” Then I met his gaze. “You have reason to be. You laid much of the foundationofthe hereticalwonder yousee before you.”
“If you are responsible for that,” Theodore said to him and gestured at me with the bottle, “then I will surely have you teachmychildrenas well.”
There was laughter, even from me; but in my heart it brought no relief from the growing tension. I was weary to my bones:not fromexposing my soul, but fromthe weight ofthe ore I had extracted. We were at war; and it very likely would end in
basket and led me up the stairs. Agnes followed with Jamaica in her arms and the dogs at her feet. She told Gaston which door was hers, and Taro trotted ahead to inspect the roombefore we entered. I could smell roasting meat and baking bread from the cookhouse. The shadows were long across the yard. A small breeze floated through the large outer window, bringing the smell ofsome tropicalflower.
I fell back on her wide feather bed and lay still, staring up at the whitewashed ceiling.
The ropes creaked again and I was jostled as my matelot came to kneelabove me and peer at me withcuriosity.
“I will be burned at the stake for heresy and sodomy,” I said inEnglish. “But I willdie lovingyouand not lyingabout it.”
“That is what I love about you,” he whispered with a
He snorted and kissed me lightly. “So youtold Theodore and Rucker.”
“And Liamand Bones.”
“What have you told them?” Agnes asked. She was digging about in a trunk in the corner and turned to us with a stack ofcleancloth.
“It is now your turn,”I told myman.
Gaston sighed and nodded, and rolled off me to lie on his back and pull Jamaica to sit by his side. Agnes had lifted Apollo from his basket and now she placed him on the bed between us. The babe promptly rolled onto his belly and gazed at me with sleepy eyes. Jamaica patted her brother’s hand with pudgyfingers. It was quite endearing.
“I take it this birthing went well,” Gaston said. “I am sorryI was not here. I know it was a thingyoudreaded.”
Agnes smiled. “Muri and Hannah delivered him, and Yvette held my hand throughout. It was easier than it looked whenpoor Vivianbirthed.”
“That was a nightmare I will not soon forget,” I said. “Who is Muri?”
“Yvette’s housekeeper,”Agnes said. She rolled her son onto his back before wrapping a loose loincloth about his groin. Whenshe released himhe promptlyrolled back over.
“I willfeed himnow, and thenwe’lltake himdowninthe basket and he can sleep while we eat,” she said. “And Jaime will want to sleep soon, too. We have a crib downstairs for Elizabeth and Jaime to nap induringthe dayand sleep inbefore we retire.”
I struggled to recall what little I had seen of the care and feeding ofchildren. “Do you not keep themswaddled?” I asked. Every infant I had ever seen in Christendom had been wrapped so that they could not move. I could not recall Jamaica and Elizabethbeingso wrapped.
Gastongroaned.
Agnes shrugged. “Rachel told me not to; and Hannah and Muri agreed. Rachel says it is too hot and humid here in the West Indies. Her family learned not to swaddle when they moved to Brazilia from Portugal. They cover the babies with loincloths or shifts and keep them in baskets. Muri and Hannah say the only mothers who need to swaddle are those who work in the fields. Sarah argued with Rachel about it with Pike, she was afraid his limbs would not grow straight without it; but then she saw how miserable he was after only a few hours, and she decided Rachel was correct. And Mister Rucker said that it was a thing discussed by learned men in London: that animals do not swaddle their young and yet their limbs grow as they should:and that some consider it a way for women to be lazy and ignore their dutyas mothers.
“The midwife in Port Royal was adamant that Sarah and Vivian swaddle their babes, though. All the proper English ladies do it, she said. But then we heard how many babies sickened and died, and we thought it a matter like boiling water or having houses withlarge windows for the breeze. There is a callfor new traditions in the West Indies.” She smiled weakly, stillconcerned withGaston’s reaction.
“Thank the Gods,” Gaston said. “I think it foolish. If a small babe must be moved I would think swaddling makes them safe because it prevents their heads from lolling; but for the rest of the hours in a day… Those discussing it are correct: all other creatures are weak at birth and they strengthen themselves by rollingand reachingabout.”
“I amglad you approve, then,”Agnes said. She laughed and looked at both of us lying on the bed before her. “It is good to have you here: safe and sound,” she said quietly. “I am sorry youfelt youneeded to hide awayfor so long.”
“We are sorry,” I said. “We did not mean to abandon you.”
She shook her head sadly. “I was so afraid on the
Belle Mer
.” She regarded Gaston with guilt. “I did not want to come here. I knew you had to go after Will, but I wanted… I was beingselfish. I amsorry.”
He stood and embraced her. “I forgive you. It was a time of madness for everyone. And you were with child and comingto a new land. Youhad everyright to want me to protect you. And I will, Agnes, but Will and the children will always come first.”
She pulled away a little in his arms and regarded him. “The children? Truly?”
He sighed. “They are the only reason we returned. I am sorry.”
She shook her head. “Do not apologize. I amrelieved to hear it.” She picked up her son and sat on the edge of the bed, deftlyrearrangingher bodice so that he could nurse.
“You have breasts,” I noted dully. Her milk-filled bosom was muchlarger thanthe tinynubs she had before.
She laughed and started to say something before stopping and chewing her lip. When she regarded us again, her gaze was tinged with guilt and concern. “I do not know where you will sleep.” Her words appeared to cause her even more consternation and she sighed heavily. “I have so wanted you bothto come… here, and for allto be right withyou, but… I am
and made disgruntled noises. She made much of getting him back on her teat as she talked. “I am sorry, Will. We did not know.”
“I know,” I said shortly, and then cursed myself silently. It was not her fault: I was growing tired of hearing it, though, no matter how sincere theywere.
“Theysaid…”She looked awayagain.
“I was raped and tortured,”I said plainly.
She sighed and dared look to me again. “Because you
My annoyance drifted away as I recalled that unlike the others who marveled at my father’s cruelty, Agnes was one threatened bysuchdepredations as muchas I.
“Aye,” I said quietly. “My father sent men to cure me:to save me:to bend me to his willand the laws ofman.”
She was not looking away now. “What of the laws of God?” she asked. “I mean…” She sighed. “In order to become a Catholic, I have studied much with the priests, and…” She sighed again. “I have always believed in God, but I was not raised to be pious. The questions the priests asked and the things theyexpected me to believe…”
She stopped and told Gaston earnestly, “I told them what theywished to hear and I amsure they judged me sincere.”
Mymatelot nodded sadly.
I felt the tug of melancholy as her words drifted deep into my heart to pluck very sad chords of sympathy and timeless anger at the hubris ofmen.
Her gaze returned to me. “But, it all made me think.