Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (50 page)

bushes.“Oui,”Cudro called to the boy. “Where are yougoing?”

“To tellmyfather and get more men.”
“Go to it then, boy,”Cudro cheered.
The boykicked his mare and offhe went.
We stood there staring at one another for but a moment

before we dove into the underbrush and squatted about in a circle checking and loading pistols and muskets while telling Striker and Pete what the boyhad said.

“Well, this hurries things up a bit,” Cudro remarked

 

wryly. I laughed: it was either that or cry. My matelot had the

 

steady expression of great resignation he sometimes donned whenevenhis Horse was beyond surprise.

 

“What the Bloody Hell?” Striker asked. “How did

Doucette die?”
“We were just discussingthat,”Cudro said.
“I pushed him down the stairs,” I said. “We claimed it

was an accident and Father Pierre did not question that. There was no talk ofmurder whenwe left the house.”

 

“We laid Doucette’s body in the store room. Theodore was going to speak to Father Pierre about the burial,” Gaston

 

said. “Damn,” I said. “Theodore mentioned the tale they had

told, but not who theyhad told it to.”
“So, saying no one in the house told anyone, why would
someone else claimGastonkilled him?”Striker asked. And then I knew. “Someone who wished to prevent us
from leaving. Someone who wished to prevent Gaston from

leaving.”“FatherMark?”Pete growled.

“Possibly,” I said, thinking that the likely case, but it was not the only possibility. “It could have been anyone who knew of the informationFather Pierre received about Gaston.”

“The boy said they had the house and they would blockade our ship,”Dickeysaid.
“We have four people in the house,” I said. “Yvette, Hannah, Liamand Theodore.”
“We must learniftheyare stillinthe house, “Cudro said.
“Aye, we need to know what has actually occurred,” I said.
“Aye, whether the boy was confused about the particulars,” Striker added. “And what the important particulars are. The island militia is every man who can carry a piece, but the garrison in the harbor fort is French soldiers paid by the

crown.”“Aye, we willbe luckyifwe face the militia, alone; as the

 

ships have not returned from roving, most should be old buccaneers turned planter or merchant,”Cudro said.

 

“Aye, but sadly,” I countered, “old buccaneers are much

“Aye, but sadly,” I countered, “old buccaneers are much wilier thanthe King’s soldiers.”
“Aye, and we will have themas well if they are officially makinganarrest,”Gastonadded.
Cudro was frowning and shaking his head. “I cannot believe a town full of buccaneers could all be induced to believe Gaston did this. The only thing you can get a hundred buccaneers to agree onis articles and loot.”
Gaston sighed. “I would hope the men I have treated would not be partyto this.”
“I would hope a bunch of buccaneers would not be partyto hanginga manfor fightingwithanother,”Striker said.
“They were very angry when Doucette was harmed before,”Dickeynoted.
“Aye, but Gaston is the physician now, not Doucette; and I have heard nothingbut his praise whenever we’re intown,” Cudro countered.
I agreed, but I waved it all aside. “We cannot know squattinghere inthe bushes.”
“Aye,” Pete snapped. “GoInFromWest, StayInAlleys, SeeWhatWeCan.”
We slipped along the road like a pack of stealthy wolves, trying to stay hidden while maintaining a good pace. We twice had to dive into the brushto avoid a wagonor riders.
We saw no one as we entered the outskirts of town: the yards were empty ofeven slaves. We finally saw a wallofbacks at the mouth of an alley near the church. They were facing the main street:the one that ran in front of our house and the church.

Then we found we could get no closer to our house than the far

Then we found we could get no closer to our house than the far side of the church because there were crudely-uniformed soldiers standing in the end of the alley we could see. We could hear the ominous rumble of a large crowd of men all talking together, with the occasional loud voice calling above it like a

gull. We ducked back into another alley where we would be

wellout ofsight.
“I am guessing that everyone in town is standing in front
ofour house or as close to it as theycanget,”I said. “Aye, and they called in the garrison,” Cudro rumbled
with disappointment. “We need to know the mood of the
crowd.”
“Someone should try and get closer and find out what’s
beingsaid,”Striker said.
“Well, we willbe recognized,”I said, “as would either of
you,” I pointed at Striker and Pete, and then regarded the rest.
“Nay, all here would be known. The town is small, we are

notable.”“I could go,”Chris said. “No one knows me.”

Pete swiped at her and knocked her huge tricorn hat off her head. No golden curls spilled out. Her hair was crudely shornas short as a boy’s should be inthe tropics.

Striker shrugged. “She looks the part enough. No one would know or recognize her. And she speaks French, right?”
I shook myhead. “Nay.”
“I do, too,”Chris squawked.
“My nay was not about your linguistic prowess,” I said. “I do not think it worth the risk. She is too short to see anything “I do not think it worth the risk. She is too short to see anything over the shoulders of others, and I do not wish to be sitting about in this alley waiting for her to return—especially since she does not know the town and might become lost. And the only thingshe willbe able to garner ifshe cannot see or force her way far enough into the crowd to reach the center is what the people at the edge think is going on. That information is useless. I say we tryand sneak into the house.”
Pete shook his head. “YaBeRightAboutTheCrowd, ButYaBeRight AboutSeein’, An’Askin’SomeoneWhoKnows Somthin’. ISayWeGet IntaTheChurch. WeCanSeeAllFromTheBelltower, AnThePriests ShouldKnow.”
Everyone nodded at that plan and we scurried off. We were easily able to slip into the rectory yard without the soldiers seeingus.
“How many live here?” Cudro asked as we crouched outside the rear entry.
“Sixpriests, and the soup-pissingMuri,”I said.
We had not seen her in the yard. I hoped she would be out onthe street like a good gossip monger. Ifwe saw her, I was sure I would kill her. I was angry and filled with bloodlust. This was not the taking of a Spanish town, where I knew no one and did not care overly much if they lived or died as long as they stayed out of my way. Nay, the people we faced today were threatening me and my loved ones personally, and thus I wanted themdead.
I realized I had summoned my Wolf when we heard the boy’s news. I looked to Gaston and found his Horse tightly reined inhis eyes.
reined inhis eyes.
“NoPieces,” Pete said and slipped inside with a knife in his hand.
I put the pistol I had been gripping back in my belt and drew a dirk. The others did likewise, except for Chris.
“It will alert the soldiers,” I hissed and pried her pistol fromher fingers. I handed her one ofher ownknives.
“I cannot use this,”she whispered.
“Then do not; but if you fire a pistol you will ruin everything.” I let my glare show her that the town descending uponher would be the least ofher problems should that occur.
She looked away. Her mounting panic was evident. Despite the circumstances, I found myself wondering if women had Horses. Had I not seenhers the moment she shot me?
I gave her a hard poke. “Find your damn balls. You wished to be here.”
Anger flashed and replaced the fear. I still saw a defiant child and not a cunning warrior in her eyes, though. I tried to recall other babes I had seen in battles—all boys, of course. I had been the least accustomed of my comrades to the matter of war since I came to the West Indies; but before I left Christendom I had led a number of young fools on their first adventures. And aye, now that I let myself remember, they had allappeared as scared as she was.
“Act as lookout and do what we tell you to do,” I said with more compassion. “You need not kill anyone; but do not impede anyone else. You will be hanged with us if all goes

awry.”She swallowed hard and nodded tightly.

She swallowed hard and nodded tightly.
I led her inside and pointed for her to crouch behind Dickey. She did. Then I hurried forward until I was with Pete and Gastonat the next doorway.
“SheBeDeadWeight,”Pete hissed.
“Oh, shut up,”I grumbled and shouldered past him.
We saw no one as we slipped through the quarters. All was silent, and it was not until we neared the rear of the chapel itself that we heard a sound from inside the building. There was furtive whispering, and then an eye appeared in the crack of the door leading to the bell tower. This was followed by a squawk as that eye beheld Pete.
He tore into the room with Gaston and me fast on his heels and dove after a flailing, cassocked form to the right. I tackled another trying to exit the door into the chapel at our left. Gaston went past me and through that door to crouch and survey the church proper. Young Father Tim gave me no trouble, and collapsed to the floor with a bleat of surrender as soonas he found I had a good grip onhis robe. There was much cursingfromPete and Cudro behind me, though; and anominous muted clang from above. I turned to find Pete on his knees partially atop young Father David. Both their hands were tightly wrapped about the bell rope: it stretched tautly to the top of the tower where I could see the bell heeled well over awaiting the release ofthe rope to beginto ringinearnest.
Cudro pried Father David offthe rope whilst Pete held it stilland Ashclimbed the tower ladder. We—includingthe priests —waited breathlessly untilAsh could cautiously get a grip on the bell’s ringer and slowly let the bell return to its normal inert position as Pete carefully played out the rope. I breathed a sigh ofreliefwhenAshthencut that rope.
“So you were told to await us and sound an alarm?” I asked our captives as three stories of rope slithered heavily to the ground behind me.
Father David nodded and eyed the pile of rope with a resigned sigh.
“Where is Father Pierre?” I asked. “Did he give that order?”
He shook his head. “Non, Father Mark and Lieutenant

Savoy.”“Where are they?”I asked.

“InDoucette’s house.”
“Where is Father Pierre?”I asked.
“Here,” Father Pierre said from the doorway with

Gastonbehind him.
“What has happened?”I asked him.
He sighed. “Father Mark saw your people go up the

road witha cart and the children. He realized youwere escaping. He went to the lieutenant at the garrisonand told himthat Gaston was wanted bythe Church.”

We sighed and murmured curses.
“So theyare holdingour people hostage?”I asked. “Oui,” Father Pierre said, “and they talked of preventing

your ship fromsailing.”
“We encountered a boy on the road who said that
Gastonwas beingcharged withDoucette’s death?”
He frowned and shook his head. “I would say that is a fantasy of the crowd. I have heard nothing of that. I would think that a thing they would concoct after they saw that none of you
were present at his burial,”he chided.
I regarded him with incredulity. “Be quiet. You know
damn well we have no time. So the men of the garrison are
involved. Are they sending men to attack our ship, or other
ships?”
“Ship,” he said. “I believe the goal was only to prevent
youfromleaving. Father Mark and the Lieutenant wanted youall
captured, but the town is quite divided over the matter. Lord…
Monsieur Sable is well liked and…” He smiled, “Father Mark’s
righteous piety has not made him many friends amongst the
buccaneers.”
“Thank God for that,”Cudro rumbled.
I turned and found that Pete had joined Ash at the top of
the tower. They were using the tower’s architecture to hide as
muchas possible while peeringout at the crowd below. Chris and Dickey had been translating for Striker. He
nodded his understanding of the Father’s tale when he met my
gaze.
“So we do not have to take on the entire town,” I said.
“That is good, perhaps that can be to our advantage. I do not
wish to envision a scene where we stand amongst them and
argue for our lives, though.”
“But you’re verygood at that,”Striker teased. Pete and Ashwere hurryingdownthe ladder. “They’re all arguing in the street in front of the house’s
main doors,” Ash said. “The leader of the garrison seems embroiled in that. The angles are wrong for us to see anything
around the house, though.”
“ThereWereJustFourMenInTheAlley,” Pete said after
Striker and Dickey gave him a quick translation of Father
Pierre’s story.
“The soldiers will not allow anyone in the house,” Father
Pierre said. “There was gunfire when they arrived. I tried to go
and see what had occurred.”
This upset my Horse and angered my Wolf. My Man
was relieved we would be killing soldiers—dogs paid by wolves
to act like wolves—instead ofbuccaneers.
“Where are the rest ofthe priests?”I asked. “Father Mark is withthe lieutenant, and the others are on
the front step gossipingwiththe crowd,”he said witha sigh. Gaston’s Horse spoke what my Wolf was already
thinking. “Let us kill soldiers, sneak in and take our people, and
sneak out again. We will deal with the other ship when we get
there.”
“Aye,” Pete said, even though no one had translated
Gaston’s words.
I was not the only one who frowned at this. Cudro and
Striker also noted it.
“What about a diversion?” Striker asked. “The whole
town is out there. If anything goes wrong they’ll all be inside the
house and who knows what will happen in the confusion. You
remember the day we rescued Gaston fromDoucette? I say we
send someone to start fires around the harbor and draw the town
downthere.”
I shook my head. “Aye, I do remember the day Gaston
was rescued. We walked out in that confusion. This mob is
confused now. It makes it dangerous, but it also makes it an
unruly tide that can sweep away true opposition. I agree with
Gaston. Let us try stealth alone. Let us pray we only fight the
soldiers.”
“And I will not agree to burn this place if they’re not all
against us,” Cudro said. “Some of us will want to come back
here someday. Theyaren’t Spaniards.”
“Aye, aye,”Striker sighed.
Father Pierre had been regarding us with concern and
censure as we spoke; now he turned to Gaston and laid a hand
upon his arm. “My son, you know this is wrong. You must not
kill your own people.” He flinched and took a step back with
horror whenhis touchonlysucceeded ingaininghimthe attention
ofGaston’s Horse.
I interceded before Gaston’s Horse explained that He
was not the one attending mass and giving confession these last
two months. “Do you have a better solution to rescue our
people?”I asked as I stepped betweenthem.
“You must place your faith in God,” Father Pierre said
earnestly. “If your path requires the death of others, then you
must reconsider in the name of your immortal soul. In that way
you insure that you will meet your friends in Heaven no matter
what might occur.”
“Non,” I said. “Perhaps our friends have put their faith in
God, and we are the instrument God has chosen to send as their
deliverance; and, if the soldiers have been good men and are