Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (40 page)

Ninety-Seven Wherein We Wrestle with Piety

Once I felt clean, Gaston took my place and we bathed him. I wished to stay there all day, touching him and being touched—perhaps more—surely more if I allowed my cock to have a say in the matter; but it was not to be: once his back was finished, I kissed his temple and stood to fetchcleanclothes.

“I suppose we have much to do,” I sighed as I sorted throughour pile oftunics and breeches.
I heard him stand, and then he was behind me with his arms about mychest.
“Oui. We missed mybirthday,”he whispered huskily.
I felt his meaning, and forthwith my cock had everything to say about the matter. With a chuckle, I turned to admire his most turgid member as mine raced to en garde. He was clean, and there was a thing we had not done lately. I knelt. He groaned and locked his knees before mylips eventouched him. I became a kitten sucking away with my paws kneading his buttocks. I was determined to have my fill and sate some need I felt could only come from this activity. Thus I was disappointed when he pulled my head away and directed me to the hammock.
“I wished for cream,” I sighed as he prodded me to lie on my belly with my feet still upon the floor. The netting had

sagged only a little since last we used it so, and thus my knees

sagged only a little since last we used it so, and thus my knees were a little loose, but not bent, and the height should be fine for himto pound me sillywithno effort onmypart.

“Later,” he whispered. “It is for my birthday, and I wish to runa little.”
His words made me harder still and I agreed the cream could wait, but stillI teased, “That is whyI got the land.”
He was rummaging through our things. “At this moment, it is onthe other side ofthe world.”
I laughed.
He knelt behind me and did a thing we had tried on our various hammocks to great success. He pulled my member and then my balls through separate loops of the netting until they were tightly held and feeling every sway of the hammock. I stifled a groanand the urge to rock myselfinto coming by merely wigglingmytoes.
“I will not last long,” I said gleefully, knowing what his response must be.
“Youwilllast as longas I wish,”he warned.
I grinned even after he gagged me and the knots in my soulpulled tight, making it very hard to remember what the word humor meant.
I was already gripping the far side of the hammock, but he bound me there. Then there was the delicious trickle of oil and he was inside me. I would have come if he had not followed his thrust with leaning his weight upon me at an angle that pressed my chest cruelly into the netting while pulling the loops about my privates painfully taut. I gasped and struggled,

suspended betwixt Heaven and Hell and powerless. I forgot all

suspended betwixt Heaven and Hell and powerless. I forgot all about Men, Horses, Wolves, Cows, Dogs, Sheep, or anything else inthe Gods’ creationor mine, and I ran. He ranwithme and we thundered across a verdant meadow redolent with sensation until his Horse burst through the gates of Heaven. At which point, he slowed me down and gently led me through to join him.

I did not move whenhe released me, I floated ina happy pool of pleasure. He had to gently prod me several times to make me move enough for himto disentangle my member. Then he crawled partially atop me and covered my face and neck with kisses.

“Happybirthday,”I mumbled.

He snorted. “Why do I feel you derive more pleasure fromthese runs thanI?”
“Because I do.”
He chuckled and slowly sobered with a sigh. “What do we need to do? And of greater importance, is there anything we must attend to this moment?”
I thought on it long and hard: not because anything was intenselypressingbut because it took me a great dealoftime and concentration to recall what I had thought we must do. “Non,” I finallysaid, “ThoughI feelwe should sleep withweapons.”
He nodded his agreement and went to fetch pistols and knives. I moved to a more comfortable position for actually sleeping, and we settled in. Like any restful sleep, I did not remember slippinginto it.
We woke to slanting shadows and golden light, and lay in companionable silence untilwe smelled food. Its siren callwas

more than our torpor could resist, and at last we crawled from

 

more than our torpor could resist, and at last we crawled from the hammock and dressed.

Much of the mayhem of the exchanging of rooms had disappeared fromthe balcony, and our people were gathering in the atriumfor the evening meal. Hannah and Samuelapproached us before we could jointhe others. Theyappeared grim.

“I would speak withyou both, but I feelyou have a thing to tellme.”I said.
“Sadly, aye, Master Will,” Hannah said. “I would tell Mistress Rachelor Master Jonathan, but…”
“Of course, what is the matter? Let us see if we can resolve it.”
Her face pinched withdisgust.
Samcoughed. “I caught Muripissinginthe soup, Master Will.”
“OhGods,”I sighed. “Are yousure?”
He nodded tightly. “I saw her squatting in the cookhouse, and then I saw her pull a bowl fromunder her skirt. And she put it in.”He appeared quite sincere and concerned.
“No one can eat it,” Hannah said. “And even if she had not attempted to
poison
everyone, she has wasted good money. The soup was to last for three days.”
My stomach chose that moment to growl its displeasure. “Is there anythingelse to eat?”
Hannah’s gaze flicked to mybellyand she graced me witha thin smile. “You two do not eat enough as it is. Aye, there is bread, cheese, and sausage, but nothinghot.”
“We will all make do,” I said. “I suppose we should talk to her.”
to her.”
“She must be punished,” Hannah said sternly, “and now she willhave to be watched whenever she cooks.”
“Aye,” I said sadly. “Actually, I would rather she never cooks again—for us.”
“I do not want her inthe house, either,”Gastonsaid.
“All right,” I assured them. “We will speak to her and then… feed the soup to the dogs I suppose. Once we have her out of the cookhouse, would you two please prepare some meal ofwhat we do have available?”
“We will look at all the food and see what else she has done,”Hannahsaid.
“Aye,”I sighed.
Gaston and I went to the cookhouse, with Hannah and Samuel following a discreet distance behind. We found Muri humminga happytune while ladlingsoup into a tureen.
“From what I understand…” I began to say, but at the sound of my voice she whirled, spied me and shrieked, brandished the ladle in my direction, and took off for the other door. Gaston and I cursed and gave chase. She was plump, not at allaccustomed to running, and greatly hampered by the milling and agitated dog pack. We had her down before she reached the gate. She screamed and hurled invective in her own language as if we were beating her. We were going to take her to the storehouse, but putting her in the presence of other valuables seemed unwise: putting her anywhere she could do damage seemed a poor notion. We dragged her—she would not stand despite our imploring her to be reasonable—to the stable and bound her hands to a post. By this point, the entire household bound her hands to a post. By this point, the entire household was gathered inthe yard, includingTheodore.
“Samsaw her piss inthe soup,”I told them.
There was muchcursingallaround.
Yvette stormed forward to squat before her wild-eyed servant. “Did youpiss inthe soup?”
Muri appeared momentarily apologetic to her mistress, and thenshe looked to me and spat. “I willnot serve him!”
Yvette’s fist balled, and even Muri flinched as if she would be struck, but her mistress relaxed her hand and turned awaywithanangrysnarl.
“I know she should be flogged,”Yvette said on her way to the cookhouse, “but I do not have the heart for it.” Then she stopped in her tracks and looked to Gaston with an apologetic grimace.
He smiled good-naturedly. “No one willbe flogged.”
“I’msorry,”she said.
“Non,”I agreed, “but I feelsomeone should be sold. But that might lead to her standing in someone else’s cookhouse telling them I’m a witch. Non… Non, perhaps she should be tithed to the Church.”
Yvette laughed. “Oui:let her piss intheir soup.”
“Oui,” Theodore said. “Hannah is a fine cook. We will all have to do a bit more, as we are now short Henrietta and Muri, but I amsure we willmanage.”
I sighed. “Well, we are also very likely short the priests for the hospital. Gaston and I have discussed it, and if she is willing, we would like Hannah to serve there. She can care for Mistress Theodore as well. And… I would have her and Sambe freed. I think theyhave earned it manytimes over.”
There were nods of assent all around, even—reluctantly —fromTheodore.
“Ah, you have sold your soul to the Devil you skinny bitch, and now you will get your reward. I hope you choke on it!”Murihurled at Hannah.
Hannah and Sam were frowning at all of us, and I was not sure how welltheyunderstood French.
I switched to English. “Hannah, Sam, would you be willing to remain here and assist the household if you were free? Hannah, we would be interested in your learning our medicine in additionto your ownand assistinginthe hospital.”
Her dark eyes became lambent and she nodded tightly.
Samappeared stunned. “Aye, Master Will. I will stay. I have nowhere else to go.”
There is only one problem,” Theodore said. “I do not own Samuel. I sold himto your sister. She left himwith us when she moved to the plantation, but he is still legally her property— or rather, Striker’s.”
Sam’s face fell.
“Nay, nay, do not worry, good Sam,” I said. “I will see to it. Youwillbe a free man.”
“Thank you, Master Will.”
“And stop callingme Master.”
“There is another problem,” Liamsaid. “Who is going to

cook?”“Well, I caused this mess,” I said with a sigh. “I will

cook.”
mymatelot.
“Canyoucook bread?”Theodore asked.
“Cheesecake?”Liamadded. “A good stew?” “I canlearn,”I said withmyarms crossed.
“Youcanchop vegetables,”Liamsaid. “I willcook.” “Canyoumake bread?”Theodore asked.
“I can,”Liamsaid, but he did not sound veryassured. “Well,
I can
,”Theodore said. “Mywife taught me.” Agnes had started to chuckle earlier in the exchange. “I

can cook cheesecake and bake bread, and cook stews:

Henrietta and Mistress Theodore taught me.”
“I canchop vegetables and chicken,”Samsaid. “Gaston and Liam excel at slaughtering hogs, and

perhaps we should make boucan,”I said.
There was laughter allaround.
“We will all take turns, like we do with everything else

these days,” Yvette said. “We will make a list of chores and assign them. If someone excels at a thing, and wishes to do it everytime it is needed, thenthat canbecome their job.”

We applauded.
“I think this is as it should be, now,” Gaston said as we towed a weeping Muri to the church’s rectory door. “It is more like we are truly members of the Brethren and not lords and

ladies.”“I like it,”I agreed. “As we have discussed, I have never

trusted servants—and I despise the owning of slaves. This way we are alla family.”
“What about the two boys?”he asked.
“Have we seentheminthe last week?”
He shrugged. “I have not. I hope theyare well, wherever

theyare.”“I amsimplyglad we have not had to sellthem.”

Father Joseph answered our knock on the doorframe. He became quite flustered at our arrival. My Wolf told him to fetchFather Pierre.

I dismissed my animal when the elder priest smiled warmlyingreeting.
“Will, Lord Montren, it is good to see you,” he said with seeming sincerity as he led us out into the rectory garden. He stopped when he realized Muri was with us, and he frowned withdismayat her bound hands.
“She has not been harmed,” I said quickly. “We are merely trying to keep her from running off. She refuses to serve me, and she pissed in the soup. We cannot trust her to cook for us. We thought we would donate her to the Church. Ifshe seems prone to piss inyour soup, youcansellher.”
Muri glared at me and threw herself at Father Pierre’s feet. “Please Father, I will be good for you. Do not make me go back to these
witches
.” She pronounced the wonderful English word she had learned fromHenrietta quite poorly.
“Truly, you should take her,” I said amiably, “because I willlose mypatience soonand strangle her.”
“I see,” Father Pierre said with a thoughtful nod. “Well then, we willgratefullyaccept the donationofthis fine slave. Stay here a moment, will you?” He took the rope binding her and led her into the rectory.
He returned a moment later and led us even further from the shadowed doorway and stopped with his back to it. He released a heavysigh. “I amsorry, Will.”
“I know. I do not blame you,” I said sincerely. “Does that bastard have powerful friends; or at least ones sympathetic to his cause?”
“I feelhe does,” he said grimly. “In time, you may not be able to remainhere.”
I nodded. “Well, so be it, then.”
“Are youa heathen?”he asked.
“Beyond being born and christened in the Church of England, possibly—surely enough to see me hanged or burned if theylearnofme—whichnow theywill.”
“Please convert, for the sake of your immortal soul, and for your very life, please join the Church. As we have discussed, I believe God is quite forgiving and tolerant. You merely need to accept Himinto your heart and profess it with sincerity; and then no matter what battles you fight with other men over matters of dogma or scripture, you will at least see Heaven’s gates when youdie.”
“I know that would be prudent, Father,” I sighed—with frustration at his closed-mindedness, and not at my stubbornness —“but it would be a lie, and as we have discussed, I will not lie

to God.”“Then may He have mercy on your soul. Where will you

go?”
“We do not know: surely somewhere beyond the purview ofthe Catholic Church. But first we await news fromthe Marquis.”

He looked from me to Gaston and back again with sad eyes. “I fear for you, bothofyou.”
“We willlive as we wish,”Gaston said. “Even ifwe must die for it.”
“My son, that is…” He sighed. “Well, it is your choice, and I suppose it is trulya matter for God.”
It was, and that was why—despite all I logically knew that could be marshaled against us—I was not afraid or swamped bydespair.
I changed the subject. “What ofHenrietta? Need I make arrangements with my sister, or will she remain here? And Liam, who is a good Catholic despite his association with me, wishes to have his sonback.”
He sighed. “She is… a pious woman whose head Father Mark has filled with anger and foolishness. She does not wish to go to the Strikers. She feels their household is as rife withperfidy as yours. She has become convinced that if she cannot persuade her husband to seek a positionwitha proper Catholic family, she has no choice except to leave him in order to preserve her soul and that ofher children.”
I smiled grimly. “Well, Liam professes he does not wish to have her back, either; though he does admit he might calm some if this matter is allowed to cool and she ceases referring to himas beingour servant. He is not our servant, bythe way.”
“Ah, I see,”Father Pierre said. “Wellthat is sad. As it is, the situation is thus in the eyes of the Church. Unless she makes