Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (27 page)

I bit them back and went on with more care. “I want

I bit them back and went on with more care. “I want revenge for the trouble he has caused—not with his death—but with his life: his life made miserable by knowing he failed to ruin mine—or any of yours. By his knowing he was impotent to take fromus the thing he apparently cannot comprehend and feels he must denyothers:love.

“At least I feel that is his motive. Whatever his motive, his expressed agenda has been to return Sarah and me to his side as obedient and proper children. That is what they were attempting to force me to become on that ship. He does not want me dead. I believe he wants Gaston and Striker dead, because they represent our disobedience. And I believe he wanted themcaptured with us this summer, so that they might be used to bend our will.

“I do not believe he wants the rest of you. You are useless to him, and meaningless: obstacles to be removed in order for himto obtain his objective. Thus, truly, the best way to defend yourselves from the matter would be to abandon me— and Sarah.”

“We na’ be abandonin’ anyone!”Liamprotested. “I know, I know,” I assured him. “I am merely stating the obvious—perhaps the wise course. But aye, I know many of you are as mad as Gaston and I, in that you are loyal and true friends inthe name ofprinciple.”
“Nay,” Cudro rumbled with a grin. “We just don’t know anybetter.”
I smiled. “In this instance, that is unfortunate for you. But seriously, the best I feelI could do for anyofyouwould be to go

away. But then, my father wins by denying me the comfort of

away. But then, my father wins by denying me the comfort of friends and family. I do not want himto win. I do not want us to lose: not a single person, not another limb, and not even a moment of… happiness, I suppose. Love. Camaraderie.

“I do not know what the answer is. I do not know what he will do next. After the result of the last attempt, he might choose to abandon the matter entirely. I doubt that: we Williamses are known for our stubbornness. So it is likely he will tryagain. Is it not better that we are here, onFrenchland? As far as we know, he does not hold the Governor in his pocket here. And would there not be some result if a large number of mercenaries hired by an English lord ransacked a French colony?”

Theodore cleared his throat. “Unless your father is favored bythe King.”
I thought on that. “I think not. I do not know what has occurred since the Restoration, but I do not recallmy father ever fearingthe Roundheads duringthe Interregnum.”
“He was a Roundhead sympathizer?” Theodore asked withsurprise.
“I do not know. I was a boy, a youth, with larger and more personal concerns on my mind—things I was quite obsessed with. I had no head for politics or business, but I do know that my father was deeply involved with both under the Cromwells. I can only suppose that he is not well-favored by Charles. And… In the short time I spent there as a man, I heard much of the dealings of the House of Lords and other concerns, but verylittle ofthe King’s court. I could be wrong, but I feelmy father is not the King’s manand does not have the King’s ear.” father is not the King’s manand does not have the King’s ear.”
“That casts a brighter light on the matter,” Theodore said.
“Does it?” I asked. “I am sorry I did not speak of it sooner. As I said, I could be wrong.”
“Nay,” Rucker said. “I do not think you are wrong. I know little of your father’s dealings since the Interregnum, but prior to it, when I was in his employ, he was very much like a Protestant in his business. In France he would have been subject to dérogeance for the purely monetary business concerns he entered into with the Protestants. He does not derive his income from his titled lands or entitlements from the King. He owned, and likely still owns, many manufacturing and shipping concerns, and a great deal of leased land not associated with the titled

estate.“I am sure Mistress Striker can tell you more,” he

 

added.

I was sure my sister could. I had not considered the matter. Nobles simply had money; and their estates earned more every year. I had known my father engaged in business, but I suppose I had thought it the normalbusiness ofa nobleman—the politics ofcourt—whenI had thought about it at all.

I had frolicked wellthroughout mylife, had I not?

“Is your father Protestant?” Cudro asked. “Well, more so thananyEnglishmaninthe eyes ofRome?”
I chuckled and sighed. “Nay: when last I was there we attended Mass at the local cathedral and not some Barker prayer meeting.”
“Are you sure it was Mass?” Theodore asked kindly.
“Are you sure it was Mass?” Theodore asked kindly. “He is not Catholic.”
I sighed with annoyance. “It is Mass to me. I attended the Church of England’s version throughout my childhood in some capacity—though I must admit much of that was in the family’s private chapel at the house—and Catholic services throughout my adulthood while masquerading as a Papist in Papist countries. I amsure fine theologicalhairs can be split over the matter—and great political ones—but from the perspective of a man sitting on a hard pew with an aching head full of last night’s wine, they are one and the same—only one is in English and the other Latin.”
There were chuckles all about and Rucker added, “Actually, many members of the Church of England still call the formalservice Mass.”
“Aye,” Theodore said with a smile. “I did once, too; but I have spent several months being taught those theological differences byfine priests intent onsavingme fromheresy.”
“A pity for you, then,” I said with a weary smile. I was trulynot inthe mood to care about Churchservices.
“Let us return to the matter at hand,” I prompted. “It is not likely my father will gain the King’s permission to attack a French colony—unless, of course, King Charles wishes to be at war with France.” I sighed at bringing doubt to my own

argument.“We can’t know, Will,” Cudro said with a shrug. “But

 

we think you’re correct: it’s not likely your father will mount an attack here—not as he did onJamaica.”

 

“Unless he dresses them as Spaniards,” the Bard said witha grinand a shrugofhis own.

“And has them arrive on a galleon and wave Spanish flags about and use Spanish muskets,” Cudro said with a chuckle. “As we have supposed, it could be done; but men here know the Spanish and they would not be fooled easily. But, of course, some Englishlord might not realize that.”

“Nay, nay,” I sighed with a smile of my own. “My father is the type of cautious and thorough man who would hire men to discover such things, and then he would hire others to insure it was done correctly to insure none were the wiser. However, I cannot believe evena relationofmine is that bloodystubborn.”

“So what did Modyford hope to gain?” Theodore asked.
“What?”I asked.
“With seeking favor with your father,” he said. “He sought gainindoingso, but ifyour father is not well-connected in the court, it would not serve Modyford well. Perhaps he did not know.”He frowned anew.
“Or I amwrong,”I said.
“Nay,” Dickey said. “The governor is an ambitious and
greedy
man who owns a large number of businesses and other concerns, and he is not a nobleman. Perhaps they discovered theywere oflike minds.”
“Nay, I doubt it was mutual,”I said. “It is more likelymy father discovered Modyford was of like mind—and useful to him, and then said whatever he needed in order to recruit the manto his cause.”
Theodore shrugged. “Perhaps I am confusing a man’s awe of the nobility with his wish to become a member of the nobility.”
Cudro waved it all aside. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve discussed it a hundred times. Your father can’t easily attack us here the way he did on Jamaica. He could still come in the night, though, and as Pete and Liam have rightly noted many times, it won’t matter how many men we have—or even where—if your father’s mencome inforce as theydid inPort Royal.”
“So tactically, it is felt taking the battle to England is best?”I asked.
“Could it be done with none the wiser?” Cudro asked. “Because I think you’re correct: any doing it will hang or run for months or years until they’re caught and hanged. Even the Spanish nobles would hand over a man to appease a monarch if that mankilled a nobleman.”
“Unless Will’s father is detested by King Charles,” the Bard said a chuckle.
“Nay,” I said. “All nobles are precious to other nobles, even when detested. Ifthey ever allow the common man to think a noble can be killed with impunity, there will be no order and the sheep might discover theycanrule their ownpastures.”
I looked to Cudro. “It willrequire great subterfuge—and thus much planning. If my father dies by violence now, I will be blamed even if I am standing here and never heard of the man who did it.”
“You best hope he doesn’t have any other enemies then, Will,”Cudro said.
“Aye,” I sighed tiredly. “It has not been my foremost concern, but that is one I should think on. We simply do not know, though. We need information from England. And at this moment I know not how to proceed on that front. I was once the kind of man one hired to obtain that information, yet I have never been the one who had to arrange to hire the likes of me; and I know nothing of the lay of the land in England. In Paris, Vienna, Marseilles, Florence—any city I have lived—I have acquaintances of ill-repute who would be happy to make arrangements for me and coin; but in England I do not even know who I dare write.”
“We discovered my name has been slandered with my former business associates,”Theodore said sadly.
“The rest of us are useless,” the Bard said. “If we had been sailing to England we might know people, but I haven’t set foot on that island in fifteen years. And we haven’t had time to make new friends inthe colonies to the north.”
“Aye,” I said in sympathy. “With all that has occurred with the Marquis and that matter, we do not know if we can rely onhis aid, either.”
Gaston’s head—already hanging—drooped lower still, and I regretted my words but as we were discussing tactics for all, it needed to be said for their benefit.
I continued sadly. “We are all exiles after a fashion— each in his own way—and my father sits in a great unassailable fortress.”
“Aye, but so do we. Well, not so unassailable, but we will do what we can as we have already,” Cudro said with seeming confidence. “After all, he doesn’t seem to want you

dead.”“So you should just hand me over the next time they

 

arrive,” I said with good humor I found surprise in. “It would save your lives.”

Everyone regarded me with surprise and protest, especiallymymatelot.
“Never!”his Horse spat.
“Aye, and I’mnot even bedding you,”Cudro said with a grimace at Gaston. He turned to me and tried to sound jovial. “Nay, Will, we won’t let themhave youagain.”
There were cheers ofagreement allaround.
“Then I amgraced with a fine bevy of fools for friends,” I said with great regard for them, even though their devotion made myheart ache withworryand not love.
“Now, I have had a longand tryingday, and I feelI must bid yougood night,”I said.
“Where ya sleepin’?”Liamasked.
“I do not know,”I said and cast about.
“I suppose you could sleep in the hospital,” Theodore said. “Since there is no longer any need for pretense concerning marriage beds.”Oddly, he sounded amused over this.
I sighed. I had poor memories of the hospital. “How is the stable?”
“Fullo’ beasts,”Liamsaid. “Na’ allo’ ’embe friendly.”
I sighed and turned, my gaze still passing over rooms until I reached the library and Striker leaning in the doorway. “Library,”I said and glanced at Gaston.
He appeared a little calmer, and he nodded resolutely and bounded to the stairs and up. I wondered at that a moment untilI recalled our things were inAgnes’ room.
I went to the library.
Striker did not appear predisposed to move aside. “So nothing changes,” he said. I could not read his expression: the light in the library was behind him, and the lanterns at the table too far away. He was a shadow—ofdoom, I fancied.
“To the Devil with you,” I said tiredly. “Go see to your wife.”
“Pete’s better withher.”
“Youassume much. What ifhe is not there?”
“I know mymatelot,”he said witha languid shrug.
“Youhypocriticalfool,”I said.
“I was being—what do you call it—
ironic
?” he snapped.
I sighed. “I amtoo tired for this. Go away.”
His head dropped and he sighed. “You’re right, Will. You’re always right. And I do worry too much. I should trust people. I should trust… something, God maybe even. But I can’t. People that is. I act like I do, but I don’t.”
“I trust you,”I said sadly.
“You didn’t that day you left,” he said without even the hint ofhumor.
“But I did. I trusted you to do what you thought best for us. It was just not a thing I wanted, because I know that even thoughyoucare for us greatly, youdo not understand us.”
He shook his hanginghead. “I can’t trust you.”
“I will try not to take it as a personal affront,” I said

sincerely.

 

sincerely.“Best you don’t,” he said with a smile I could hear more thansee.He stepped forward and threw his arm about me. I

embraced himinkind.
“Are we stillfriends?”I whispered.
“Aye,”he said gruffly.
“I amrelieved.”
“So amI.”
We released one another and he walked away to the

tables.

I sensed Gaston in the shadows by the wall. “Why are some friendships such tattered blankets ever in need of mending?”I asked inFrenchas I entered the library.

“I would not know,” he said seriously as he followed. “I doubt I have any talent for sewing or mending. My friends had best be whole and untattered.”

“Except me,”I said wearilyand sat.

He sighed and knelt before me. “We are the same blanket,”he said kindly.
I smiled. “And poor comfort I feelwe are to others.”
He smiled. “Perhaps theylike the pattern.”
I laughed. “They must.” I sobered. “What are we to do? Sarahand Striker said things that…”
“I will not let you lay down your life for any of them,” he

said. “I do not want to. That is why I feel guilt. I feel I have

 

brought this down upon them, yet I will not do the thing that

 

might relieve them of it. I feel I am attempting to justify my

might relieve them of it. I feel I am attempting to justify my unwillingness to act on the matter every time I tell them why it cannot be as theysuggest.”

“But it is not that simple, and it cannot be as they suggest,”he said withfirmkindness.
I sighed. “We speak so blithely of his death, but I have been sincere today: it is not truly a thing I want now. I had not given it any thought these past months, until today when I hear it on lip after lip. But I did not think about much ofanything. I have come to see—once again—that I never have. Yet I never correct the matter. I go on frolicking. I never think about things financial other than to insure I have the money I need on hand to live. I never put great thought into things religious because…”
“Will,” he said firmly and held my cheeks. “You have spent much of your life in harmony with your Horse—and He has not cared for those things. Our Horses do not need them. Theysimplyknow truth.”
I relaxed under his hold and thought. He was correct. It was a thing I had known, the events of the day had just jarred me suchthat I was lookingat the matter askew.
“I like frolicking,” I said. “But I think my Man must often prepare a safe place for my Horse to play, and… I suppose that has ever been the seasons of my life. I go someplace new, my Manlearns enoughofit to insure mysurvival, and thenmyHorse frolics until things go amiss and my Man is required to extricate me from whatever troubles have developed and move me on to the next pasture—usually with a great deal of melancholy. I am the hypocrite to chastise Striker for the drinking.”
Gaston was thoughtful, but he smiled. “And I have ever
Gaston was thoughtful, but he smiled. “And I have ever been the opposite.” He shook my face gently. “Stop chastising