Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (47 page)

 

she asked, “When you mean the Gods, you actually mean
the

Gods
?”
“Aye.”
She nodded and looked toward the sinking sun over my

shoulder. “Do youfeelyour father is mad?”

 

I snorted with amusement at the path I was sure her thoughts had followed. “Nay, I do not feel he is as mad as I.”

 

Then I thought of my madness—such as it was these days, and

Then I thought of my madness—such as it was these days, and my theories about my father’s cruelty. “Or perhaps he is. He is not gripped by it as Gaston is; but he is surely lost to it—always, I suppose. Such that no one sees him sane, or perceives him as insane, and he does not recall sanity as being a state different thanthe one he possesses.”

“Could you kill him?” she asked. “Knowing he is perhaps not as he should be, could youkillhim?”
“I feel I must, unless fortune smiles upon us and he dies of some other cause. But when I do, it will not be for me that I pull the trigger, but for all the others who love me that he has harmed withhis hatred ofme.”
“Like a rabid dog,”she said flatly.
“Aye.”
“How will you get away with it?” she asked without

challenge.I sighed. “I do not know, yet. It must appear an

accident. I decided when we came here that his life was not worth mine. It still is not; and I do not wish for everyone else to be hunted down like dogs for associating with a noble’s murderer.”

She nodded. “It is a tactic of last resort.” She frowned and looked away.
“You thought I would kill you if you succeeded this day?”I asked withsurprise.
“Aye.”
“Youwished for death?”
“Aye.”
She would not look at me.
She would not look at me.
“Should I leave you here alone? So help me, ifyou defile the Temple by…”
She laughed nervously. “Nay, nay, I will not. If I hang myself, it will be elsewhere. I will not make you chase me into Hades and back for revenge.”
I studied her for a time. She tried to look at me and appear nonchalant, but she could not hold my gaze. She was still thinking of it. If I were she… Well, I probably would, too. I thought I should not leave her alone; but then, perhaps, that was exactlywhat she needed.
“I cannot stop you ifit is a thing you truly wish,” I said at last. “Youmust decide what your life is worth.”
She took a long and shaky breath. “I know,” she whispered.
The wind gusted and swirled the flames. The storm was veryclose now, a wallofblack fromnorthto south. It would rain before I could returnhome. Gastonwould be worried.
“I cannot tarry longer if I am to make it home before darkness falls,” I said regretfully. “The hut should be fine in the rain. Light the lantern. There should be enough oil to last through the night. There is fruit hanging there.” I pointed at the basket under the eave. “And boucan in a chest inside. Now hurry and stow your weapons before theyget soaked.
She nodded with resignation and began to do as I instructed. I fetched Pomme.
“I expect to find you here in the morning,” I said as I mounted. “Alive.”
She said nothing. To her credit, she did not beg me to She said nothing. To her credit, she did not beg me to

stay. This would be her vigil of despair. She would survive it

 

or she would not. If she did not wish to, all the hand-holding in the world would not save her.

Pomme and I had a very wet ride back to town. I was soaked through and smelled of horse by the time I got him into the stable. I thought to draw a bath, but I thought tromping up and down the slippery stairs with buckets would be worse than the smell. I stripped my shirt and washed in the rain. There was light in the dining hall. I supposed I should join them for dinner, but I did not relish discussing Chris. Nay, I would retreat to our roomand see if Gaston was also avoiding them. We had a letter

to finish.One of the women emerged from the dining room and

raced around beneath the balcony to meet me at the base of the stairs. It was Yvette. She peered at me with worried eyes from beneathher shawl.

“What is it?”I called after a rollofthunder.

“Gaston. He is… not well. I guess that is how you phrase it.”
It was allI could do to not grab her shoulders and shake her. “What? Where?”
“He is inyour room,”she said wisely. “He is unharmed. I have beencheckingonhim.”
I took a deep breath. “Allright. What occurred?”
“Nothing. I feel that is because he wished to avoid…” She waved her hands in frustration. “He is drugged. He gave himself little. I watched. He asked me to…” She sighed. “He asked me to bind him. He said he feared running off after you and doingsomethingmad. He asked me to tellno one else, and I haven’t.”
“Thank you,”I said and embraced her. I was relieved he had gone to her and not Agnes. As much as we loved Agnes, Yvette was a thousand times more sensible – and calmer in the face ofadversity.
“You’re welcome,” she gasped when I released her. “I’mglad I could help. I told the others he is with a patient. I will tellthemyouare wet and tired. Should I bringfood?”
“Non, please, I will fetch it later. I would not have you braving the stairs with soup.” I caught her before she could leave. “Yvette, if I have not said this before, thank you. Thank youfor beingpart of… our family. Youmeanmuchto us.”
She appeared startled, and then she snaked an arm about my neck and pulled my head down for a quick kiss on my

cheek.“It is good to be part of a family,” she whispered in my

 

ear. Thenshe was gone.

I hurried up the stairs. There was movement to my left, and I spun in time to see Doucette glaring at me from his doorway. Though where he stood was dry, his clothing was soaked, and his wild hair was wet and plastered to his face. He slammed the door. The damn bastard must have been on the stairs and seen me talking to Yvette. I was half-naked and she had kissed me. I cursed my horrible luck all the way to our room.

One of the outer window shutters had opened and was banging against the wall. I shut it and tightened the bar. The lanternstopped swayingcrazily. I found Gastononthe hammock watchingme. His hands were wellbound behind his back, but he appeared comfortable. His face held the Child’s dreamymien.

I dropped to kneelbeside the bed and peer at himwitha warmsmile. “How are we?”
He sighed and rooted toward me.
I leaned forward and kissed his nose. “May I release

you?” He nodded. “It was too much.”

“Oui, it has been far too much, today.” I untied him and he stretched languidly.
“I know you would never let her seduce you,” he said as if the thought was a curiosity; but, you know how my Horse can be.”He sighed.
“She did not seduce, or even try,” I assured him. Of course, I was half-naked and the other truly mad man in the house now likely thought I had engaged in a liaison with his wife. I felt I should warnYvette.
I should warnYvette.
Trustinginthe laudanumand the controlhe seemed to be exhibiting, I quickly told Gaston what had occurred as I dressed indryclothes.
“Oui, go tell her.” He pushed me to the door. “She should not have to face himwithout knowing.”
There was a loud crack of thunder and suddenly his Horse was inhis eyes and his hand was ona pistol.
I smiled grimly. “Will you be well alone—now—while I do this thing?”
His Horse was still present—but calm now. He nodded thoughtfully.
I hurried toward the dining room. I saw Doucette’s door was open a crack as I neared the top of the stairs. I could feel himwatching me. I smiled for lack of a better thing to do: glaring at himwould accomplishnothing.
The retort of the pistol scared me so much I almost fell down the stairs. The crack of a ball splintering the balcony column beside me made me dive down them. At the bottom, I tried to decide what to do. I did not see Gaston running up the balcony. In the storm he had not heard. I could tell the others, but by then Doucette would have time to reload. I could charge inmyself, but he might have more thanone pistol.
I decided I would kill him if left alone with him. I ran to the dininghall.
“Doucette saw me thanking you!” I told Yvette in front ofeveryone. “I was coming to warn you he might be confused at what he saw. He is! He just took a shot at me!”
There were curses and exclamations as the household sprangto life.
“Don’t kill him!” Yvette implored as Liam and Bones followed me out the door.
“We willtrynot to, Madame,”Liamassured her.
Doucette had reloaded, and he had another pistol. I thanked the Gods he could not aimand he was panicked enough to fire at us before we entered the room. There was a brieftussle and we pinned him on the bed. He filled the room with his

curses.“How did he get pistols?” I demanded in English as I

gathered the pieces while Bones and Liamheld him.
“They be Madame Doucette’s!” Liam protested. “The
whole house be armed.”
“I know, but the ones in this room should have been
locked away. We have grown lax, Liam. Chris was able to walk
into the hospitaland hold a gunonGastonand me.”
“What?”he shouted over Doucette’s ranting. Gastonappeared inthe doorway, followed bya cautious
Theodore and an anxious Yvette. My matelot did not appear to
be himself; but I hoped it was the drug and not his Horse still
holdingsway. As wornas he was this day, I needed to tellhimof
Doucette’s attack inprivate. I went to jointhem.
“There’s the whore!”Doucette raged.
The hurt on Yvette’s face made my heart ache in
sympathy.
My temper snapped and I turned back to Doucette to
roar, “Shut up, you miserable bastard! Never callyour wife that!
She has done nothing!”
“You have been at her!” he roared back and pushed
himself to sitting—Bones and Liam being too stunned or
distracted bythe discourse to continue to hold him.
“I aman avowed sodomite, remember! I would not bed
her! I fuck Gaston! I have no use for women!”
“You liar! You cuckold him as she cuckolds me!” He
advanced onme, punctuatinghis words withhis damncane. I wanted to grab it and strike Liamand Bones for letting
himgo. “You are mad!” I spat and stepped back toward the
door. I needed to leave.
“She is withchild!”Doucette roared.
That stopped me. “What?”
“She cannot hide it fromme. I know mywife. I know the
signs. She missed her bleed and suffers nausea everymorning.” I found myself—along with every one else in the room—
looking to Yvette. Her stricken face spoke volumes. He was not
lyingor imaginingthings.
Gaston was whispering frantically in her ear and she was
shakingher head and whisperingback to him.
How in the name of the Gods could she be pregnant?
Agnes wasn’t even pregnant—after months of syringes fullof my
seed. Was she actually servicing Doucette? Or more alarming
yet, was he still able and she was seducing him to…
produce a

^child
?Her reasons could not matter: they were hers; and any

 

claimofbetrayalwas Agnes’—unless, ofcourse, she knew.

I whirled on Doucette. “Fine! She is with child! I would think it yours! Or perhaps she has sought another when you could not! She is a fine woman and she has needs! What of it? She has cared for youallthese years! She loves you!”

“Will, stop!” Gaston called. “Dominic, it is mine! I gave her a child. I have beenlyingwithher—as youalways wished.”
I was surprised. What ruse was this? I supposed one to quiet the bastard. I began to turn to Gaston when Doucette bounded forward and almost jabbed me in the eye with his cane

and a triumphant “Hah!” I dove away and found myself outside

and a triumphant “Hah!” I dove away and found myself outside on the balcony. Thankfully Gaston and Yvette had moved out of my path so that I did not send them sprawling at the top of the

stairs. “I knew it! I knew it! Nature prevails! God prevails! He

 

is onlywithyoufrompity! He loves women!”Doucette ranted.

My fragile control snapped. I did not believe a word of what he said, but I had had quite enough.
I pushed Doucette downthe stairs.
He went tumbling on the wet wood, lit by bolts of lightning and accompanied by the roar of thunder. Justice was

served.Gaston tore past me to inspect the crumpled format the

bottom. Yvette was howlinginto Theodore’s chest.
I was done. I turned away and retreated to our room.
Once there I took a small draught of laudanum and sat on the
hammock to listento the rain.
No one came for a time. I imagined they must be angry
with me. I did not care. I felt no regret. He had been a rabid
dog. The disease had been festering in his heart all these months
—years, actually. All things considered, I was amazed we had
managed to cohabit with himas long as we had without incident.
And we did not need him in order to maintain the house any
longer. We were leaving. I would go off to kill another rabid
dog. Allwould be well.
Gaston arrived, appearing haggard and dazed. I went to
himand embraced himtightly. He returned it withfervor. Then we were not alone. Yvette and Agnes crept into

the room, clinging to one another and looking like condemned

 

the room, clinging to one another and looking like condemned prisoners.

“He is dead,” Gaston said raggedly. “His spine was broken.” He gestured at the women. “They have a thing to tell you.”

I looked to the women. They grimaced as one with rue and guilt. Mystomachchurned despite the laudanum.
“Out withit,”I said; and thenadded gently, “please.”
“We have lied to both of you,” Agnes said with fresh tears. “Yvette wanted a child, too.”
“It was stupid,”Yvette sobbed. “I’m so foolish when… I’minlove.”
Agnes held her tighter and forged on in a rush. “We were not sure if it would work, and so it did not seemto matter at first, and then… Well, I got pregnant. And then we did not want to tellyou, because we thought youwould never agree, and youwould stop givingus the jism, and…”
“What are you saying?” I asked reluctantly. I thought some of their words would make sense in time, but I was very much not in the mood to consider them now. There was a thing Agnes had said that seemed very important. I especially wished to avoid thinkingofwhatever it was.
“They are both with child—with your seed,” Gaston clarified for us all.
That was definitely what I did not wish to hear. I was at a loss as to how I should react to please them. I was not even sure how I should act should I wish to anger them. I was numb and adrift.
“I have drugged myself. I am tired now,” I said. I went
“I have drugged myself. I am tired now,” I said. I went to the hammock and laydownwithmyback to them.
I truly wished to sleep, but I was acutely aware of the quiet whispers until the door closed. Then I heard the sodden slap of Gaston’s wet clothes striking the floor. Then he was tugging at mine. I let himstrip me—I even helped—and then we were curled inour blanket inthe dark.
I drifted to sleep listening to the storm, knowing tomorrow would be a day of discovering what had washed ashore and what had beenwashed away.
I woke to insistent knocking. Birdsong and sunlight poured through the shutters. For a short time, it seemed as if the night had beensome feverishdream—but nay, it had not. Gaston stillslept like one dead beside me. I gentlydisentangled our limbs and sat to consider the shadows. It was late inthe morning.
The knocking continued: a pause, and then another series ofpatient taps, and thena pause and so on.
“I amawake,”I called. “Who is it?”
“Theodore.”
“Hold, I amcoming.”
A legion of thoughts pressed at my temples. I sought to ignore them for a while longer. My gaze fell upon the Marquis’ letter where I had left it sitting upon the table. Yet another thing I must attend to.
I fumbled my breeches on and opened the door. “How are youthis fine morning?”I asked.
He snorted sadly. “Father Pierre is here to see you. He says it is important. It is apparently not urgent, as he came over an hour ago and was content to sip wine with me and reminisce an hour ago and was content to sip wine with me and reminisce about Doucette while we waited for youto wake. But now that it is approachingnoon…”
“Ah,” I said. “What are his thoughts on Doucette’s