Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (39 page)
Read Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves Online
Authors: W. A. Hoffman
He nodded. “She says she won’t tell anyone. Then she argued with Muri, but she said nothing about that and swore me to saynothing. I’mnot talkingto Muriabout it. We had a fight.”
It seemed I was destined to ruin other’s relationships. “I amsorryyouhad to fight over me—or rather, somethingI did.”
He shook his head. “Sometimes things happen for a reason. It willbe fine.”
I was still struggling to make sense of the rest of what he said. “What is juju?”
“How do you say it, ah, aye, juju is what white people callwitchcraft. There is another word.”
“Magic?”
“Aye, aye, that is it. All peoples have juju, but not everyone knows how to use it. Mistress Henrietta told Muri the
bad juju men of your people are called witches and devil worshippers. They talk all the time, even though Mistress Henrietta hardly knows French, and Muri hardly knows English. They talk about things that the French and English have no words for—black things—my people’s things. Yet, still they talk and confuse eachother.”He shook his head withfrustration.
“Muri’s people are afraid ofjuju. Sometimes there is bad death—like Mistress Rachel’s baby. That was bad juju. Touchinga bodythat died wrongbrings the bad jujuonyou. The onlymanor womanwho can touch the dead that died wrong are holy men who know how to not let the juju stick to them. Hannah’s people are different than Muri’s people, or mine. And Hannah’s father was a holy man. She knows more about juju than Muri, so she is not afraid. She says she was worried that night because she felt the baby’s bad juju. Thenshe saw that you are a holymanand she knew everythingwould be fine.”
Never having been called a holy man before—much less one who knew how to control juju—I initially wished to argue with Hannah’s assessment of me. But then I realized there was nothingto be gained inthat; and perhaps insome wayI was akin to their holy men and it was only our having disparate religions and languages that made it seem a thing of myth and fantasy. Maybe their holy men were physicians. Maybe the old Gods did grant their followers this juju.
“I think there is much I would like to discuss with Hannah, and you, about this matter,” I said. “If I ama holy man like she says, then I have much to learn. I would understand more about your religion.”
He smiled, but then he sighed. “We blacks do not speak He smiled, but then he sighed. “We blacks do not speak of it with you white men. Aslave gets beat for that. But you are different. Hannah knows more than me. She likes you. She might speak to you.”
“Thank you,”I said. “Samuel, you are right to hide it and be careful about who you speak to. There are many white men who so fear anything different they will kill their own kind. We have fought wars over religion—the same religion. In this matter, Mistress Henrietta told the priests I was a bad juju witch. If I cannot convince them I am not, they will try to have other men kill me. I do not intend to let them. But if they do come for me, we might have to run away again to another place. We are hoping… my juju is stronger than the priests’. I promise you, though, that while I live, no man I know—slave or free—will be beatenfor believinga different thingifI canprevent it.”
“You are a good man, Master Will,” he said sincerely thoughI could see he had manyquestions.
“As are you, Samuel. I hope to be able to explain more to you. I do not know what the others have told you of why we are here and what our future might hold, but you should be
would like to know. I should go back now. Muri will wonder where I am.”
“Aye, go, and thank youagain.”
I watched himslip back into the yard with wonder in my heart. I did not know what to think ofhis talk ofjuju. I did know I could no longer countenance Hannah and him remaining in slavery; and thus ignored as servants when they could be far slavery; and thus ignored as servants when they could be far more vital members of our household if they were allowed to be themselves. They had already served us well many times over. It was time they were rewarded and allowed to share in the same rights everyone else did.
I doubted Theodore was in a state of mind to argue with me over the matter, and if necessary, I would purchase them fromhimand free themmyself.
Ifaspects ofthis religionofhers did not forbid it, Hannah might make a fine assistant for the hospital; and if Samuel wished, he might make a fine addition to the men capable of defendingthe house. Theyshould also learnto read and write.
Happy with these thoughts of being able to do good by someone, I was quite dismayed to find unfinished business in the hospital. Father Pierre—appearing dour, Father Mark— appearing obstinate, and two of their fellows—who appeared quite anxious, stood in the ward confronting Gaston and Theodore. Displeased to have to do so, I summoned my Wolf. I was pleased He seemed to be a far more obedient creature than my Horse; and I was confused as to why I always seemed to discover suchthings about myselfwhenI did not have the time to reflect uponthem.
I did note that while my Horse merely wished to run or trample these men in the process of running, my Wolf wished to stand in the shadows with cunning and assess when it was best to strike. I also noted He had no interest in begging for understanding.
Gaston was speaking with his Wolf’s voice. “You are making accusations based upon the ravings of an addled making accusations based upon the ravings of an addled
“Father Mark,” Father Pierre snapped. “You do not speak for the Church. Remember your place.”
I had heard enough. I strode forward. Father Mark viewed my approach with a contemptuous sneer; until I struck himand knocked himout into the alley.
“Non, this insolent whelp does not know his place,” I snarled as I followed his scrambling form until I could get my hands on him and lift him to slam him back against the church
“What are you, Father Mark, that you should speak to a nobleman with such arrogance?” I snarled in his face. “Are you some ambitious by-blow who has been promised much in the Churchbecause youcannever have a name inyour true estate?”
His face beganto contort into anincredulous sneer. “Or are you some ambitious commoner who would like nothing better in life than to collude with a serving woman to bringa lord to the pyre?”
This elicited surprise and fear inhis eyes.
“We have been very lenient. Lord Montren wishes to be able to aid people—sick people—without having them feel obligated to bow and scrape while they ail. Thus we have not demanded what is his by birthright; but that does not mean we will tolerate your disrespect. Nor will we tolerate your petty bourgeois animosities.”
He was now defiant.
I lowered my voice. “Nor do we care for your little ambitions concerning this parish. If Father Pierre had any sense, he would send you packing back to France where you could become some Bishop’s lap boy; because you will amount to nothing more if you feel this parish is worth engaging in intrigue. Youare a pompous and self-righteous little fool.”
I cocked my head and allowed speculation to creep into my eyes. “But non, perhaps I have misjudged you. Perhaps this is exactly what you wish for. Aquiet little place where there are no bishops or nobles—a place where you can reign as king amongst the pious.”
His face became quite guarded and I knew I had struck
Church. You should have become a Protestant: they applaud suchambitions.”
“Youhave no right,”he said withweak conviction.
“Fool, I have every right. This is not Heaven. In this petty and mundane world I am still a noble’s son—whether French or English, it makes no matter. My peers are not yours. You will need more than this Godforsaken little colony can offer to put a rope about myneck, whether I amanEnglishheathenor not. It is a sad thing for a man like you, but it is the truth: rail against it if you will; plead to God for its end; but you must still bow before it.”
“Non,” he gasped. “I will not. You are an atheist and paganidolater and I willsee God’s Willdone.”
I snorted. “You idiot, I cannot be both. And as for you as the arbiter of God’s Will, I will never believe that a God who created All There Is countenances men who wallow in hubris. If there is justice in His heart, all the petty, little, self-righteous men ofyour ilk willburninHell.”
I released him and turned my back on him to rub his nose inhis insignificance. I found myselfnearlynose-to-nose with Gaston and Father Pierre, with Theodore and the other priests right behind them. Apparently I should have continued speaking loudly enough for them to hear in order to avoid their having to creep so close.
I glared at Father Pierre. “Do what you will with Henrietta. She is a fine cook. Her husband wants his son, however. He might doubt her honesty, but he does not doubt her fidelity. If you put her out, we will make arrangements for her to live at the Strikers. We willnot have her under this roof.”
He appeared appalled at my mien, but he wisely made no protestation or appeal to my better nature. He nodded and stepped awayto lead his wide-eyed brethreninto the church.
I heard Father Mark slide down the wall as I walked
was somewhat slack-jawed. I realized the rest of the household was standing in the shadows of the ward. Once I joined themin the relative dimness I could see their faces. Their expressions ran up and down the scales from amusement to surprise. I did not see a sour note uponanyofthem, though.
I glanced back at where I had left Father Mark. He still sat. His head was in his hands and his shoulders shook. It might have been arrogance on my part, but I did not think he laughed. He would hate me untilthe dayhe died.
I led my people into the atrium, and released my Wolf witha heartypat uponHis head and great relief.
Theodore was eyeingme withconcernand awe.
“Do not say I have behaved rashly,” I told him. “It merely seemed the best course. If I had groveled and made excuses, the bastard would have felt superior to me, and I cannot allow that—even if I had been born other than I was. I despise menofhis nature.”
He shook his head. “Non, I aminawe. I must admit with all that has occurred there are days when I forget you are a nobleman’s son, and thenyouremind me quite handily.”
“My dear Theodore, it is a sad comment on the nobility that you feel the only way to recognize one is by whether he is a sufficiently arrogant arse; but in truth, it is a thing I have always felt and lamented.”
Yvette laughed. At my curious brow, she said, “That is what my teacher once told me: you can tell how blue a man’s blood is byhow highhe holds his nose.”
“Well, my father would have drowned in a good rain,” I said withamusement.
There was laughter all around, and I found relief in it, as it dissipated the tensionthat had gripped them.
“Well, myfriends,”I said as we quieted. “IfFather Mark has friends in high places, I have merely bought myself time. He now wishes me dead, but I hope I have exposed his motives to his fellows. I have surely made him aware of my contempt for
since I hit himwiththe soup that night.”
“And I have hated himsince he insulted you.” “Thank you, mylord,”she said and curtsied. “Does Sarah know Henrietta will live with her?” Agnes
waged the battle,” Liam said in his still strangely-excellent French. “I forgot they are not our brethren:you were able to use the large cannon.”
I chuckled. “Oui, I was able to wave my large noble cock about.”
As they laughed, I looked for Samuel and found him at the back of the crowd. “Would you be so kind as to set a tub and water in our room?” He bowed with a wide smile and hurried off. Beside him I found Muri watching me with anxious eyes, and Hannah: she was smiling at me with a gaze that would have rivaled Pete’s in its ancient wisdom. I nodded to her and she returned it.
“What was that about?” Gaston asked quietly as we retreated up the stairs.
“Sam was a font of wondrous information,” I said and
“I will be happy to have Hannah in the hospital if she wishes it,” he said when I finished. He gave a rueful smile. “It is likely I will no longer have the priests. I am curious about this juju.”
Sam arrived with the bath and told me that Hannah would be happy to speak to me whenever I wished. I thanked him and was quite pleased, but it was with great relief I closed the door inhis wake. I sighed and sagged against it.
myselfto reflect as I too shed myclothing. “I was bornwithHim. I have often seen Him, but not known to think of Him as an entitysuchas our Horses. I have viewed Himas a mask wornby my Man. He is… a mask, or rather a thing of the shadows. Oui, He dwells in the cave with the shadows of truth on the wall. He knows that realmand how to communicate with other men who live there. He is that part ofme.”
He was thoughtful. “You are correct; I should learn to summonmine.”
“I think you already do, my love. I think we call yours your physician’s mask.”
He contemplated that while I sat inthe shallow tub.
“Oui, I see that,” he said as he knelt to wash my back. “But since I do not feela loss ofcontrol, nor a loss ofmemory, I
do not view Himas a separate creature inmysoul.”
“Oui, that is why I did not recognize mine, either. But, I
am different when wearing His guise. I think He has killed and
done other cruel things I have needed done. I feel I should
appreciate Him, and yet I am dismayed by Him—especially
since people appear to regard Himwith awe. That truly troubles
me. Yet, conversely, I find comfort now that I canview Himas a
separate beast. His actions are not mine
per se
.”
“He is impressive,” Gaston said thoughtfully, “but not
because He is worthy ofgreat regard:non, it is because His very
nature is to be impressive and lordly.”
“Ah, I suppose ifI view it thuslyI might feelless troubled
whenmenI care for gaze at Himinwonder.”
“They are sheep and dogs, after all,” Gaston said
warmly. “The Wolfis a mightyhunter theyknow to cower from.” “That minds me of the days when I thought I was a pisspoor wolf. It is because I could not wear His guise at all times: a
thing I felt I must do if I was to claim my birthright. But, non, I
ama Centaur who candona Wolfpelt.”
“Just so,”he said and kissed mytemple.
He continued to help me wash the world away, and I
mused onthe act ofbathingcleansingmysoulas wellas myskin.
Was there not some reference to the miasma of death made
again and again by the ancients? Perhaps that was Hannah’s bad
juju. Perhaps those religions that were not Christian had things in
common. Perhaps Centaurs were holy men, or vice versa. I
wondered if I would be happier as a priest than a warrior. I
wondered ifthe Gods had givenme muchchoice.