Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (84 page)

Ashot reverberated through the cellar, ringing in my ears

Ashot reverberated through the cellar, ringing in my ears and returningthe flow ofevents to their normalspeed. The sound had not come from the pistol I watched with horror. And then I was plowinginto Gastonand knockinghimflat.

“Youwillnot!”Shane cried.

I tore mygaze frommyfather’s waveringpistol, and saw Shane’s steady and smoking one. Above it, my cousin’s eyes were fullofdeterminationand old pain.

My father stood with surprise pushing the rage from his face as red blossomed on his white shirt. Then the rage returned, and his arm straightened again. This time he was not aiming where we sprawled on the floor, but at Shane. This time I saw his weapon buck in harmony with the roar of its discharge. Then Shane grunted and leaned heavilyonthe wine shelf.

The cellar reverberated once again, not from another pistol, but with the very human sound of my father’s incoherent bellow of anger and pain. He sank to his knees, his left arm thrashing to push Jenkins away. He extended the pistol toward Gastonand me.

“It is spent,” Gaston breathed. I was not sure who he was tryingto reassure.
“I say NO!” Shane roared, and lurched forward to dive atop myfather, a knife flashing above his head in the yellow light. Myfather fellbeneathhimwithanother cryofanger and pain.
No longer attempting to intercede, Jenkins and the other man at the door pulled back with horror on their faces. They were mirrors of Gaston and me, who still lay in a heap on the floor, staring and unable to move as the combatants thrashed,

twisted, and grunted, their arms punching and stabbing into one

 

twisted, and grunted, their arms punching and stabbing into one another.

My father finally began to extricate himself, squirming from beneath Shane, pushing his would-be son toward his lap. His eyes were full of more terror than anger as he changed his grip on the dirk in his hands and struck a final time, driving the blade straight down between Shane’s shoulder blades. Shane twitched and stilled.

His stillness, and the meaning behind it that is recognized —even if never understood—by the lowliest creatures and the youngest babes, released me from my horrified torpor. I swore and growled and scrambled to them. My father grasped at the slick hilt ofhis dirk, his scared eyes uponme. He could not pullit free. I punched him. As he fell back, I tried to dive atop him, onlyto have Jenkins and the other manpullme away.

“You Gods-damned, despicable bastard!” I howled at my father as I fought with them. “I hate you! I willnever become you! Never! Youworthless piece ofshit!”

My father tugged at the blade in Shane’s shoulders again, his eyes wild with fear, but now not toward me: he was lookingup at Gaston.

Jenkins released myarmand yelled, “No, don’t!” Gaston stopped, startled, his Wolf’s gaze turned toward the man with a frown, his hand reaching for the bloody knife my father stillfought to pullfromShane’s back.
“Don’t touchthem!”Jenkins yelled.
“I ama physician!”Gastongrowled.
I could not comprehend what Jenkins was concerned

about, but I was gripped by a sudden dread that my father

about, but I was gripped by a sudden dread that my father would somehow strike with his dying breath; laying a curse upon mylove ifnothingelse.

“Get awayfromhim!”I shouted. “Please! Now!”

Gaston dove back as if my father had erupted into flames. He appeared bewildered, but he did not argue as he skirted wide around the bodies and came to my side. As I was no longer struggling, the other man released me and retreated before mymatelot’s glare.

There was yelling and cursing coming from the kitchen, and several men were pushed back into the room so that they stumbled over Shane and my father. Another group of men charged in behind them, led by a large man with an eye patch. Theytoo almost fellover the bodies.

Quiet descended as everyone stilled and contemplated the scene. The only sound was labored breathing: everyone was panting; save myfather, whose breathingwas shallow.

“Where is…”Eye Patchbeganto ask.

Jenkins pointed at me. “They did not do it. Shane shot the Earl:the Earlshot Shane:and then they fellupon one another withblades.”

“Why did you not stop them?” Eye Patch demanded as he knelt and examined Shane and myfather.
“I have no answer for that,” Jenkins sighed. “It was very sudden. We dove away to avoid being shot ourselves, and then… It was sudden. It seemed unreal.”
Eye Patch nodded as if he did indeed understand. “Shane is dead. We willneed a surgeonfor the Earl.”
“I ama physician,”Gastonsaid quietly.
“I ama physician,”Gastonsaid quietly.
“I did not want you to touch himbefore Captain Horn or his lord saw how they fell,” Jenkins explained and gestured toward Eye Patch.
“I do not want you to,” I said. The dread still gripped

me. All eyes turned to me. I shook my head vehemently as I

 

met onlymymatelot’s curious gaze. “He willdo some despicable thingevennow ifhe can. Let himdie. Let himsuffer.” Gaston regarded me with sympathy and patience: as he always did when he thought I was running wild. “That is beneath

 

you.” He was correct. I sighed. “Damn you, why must you

make me a better maneveninthis?”
Mymansmiled and turned back to the bodies. “You stay away fromme,” my father snarled. “Keep him

away from me,” he told a startled Captain Horn. “And that bastard there is not my son,” he wheezed. “You are not my son, you hear, boy?” he yelled with enough volume to cause him to coughwetly.

Hope blossomed in my heart for but a moment, and then I knew this was just some angry ploy. “I wish I were not, surely as muchas youwishthat was true,”I said tiredly.

Captain Horn held up a hand to stop Gaston from approaching any closer and looked down at my father. “No one will believe you, my lord. You might as well let it rest and let us tend you. I doubt you’ll live. Don’t take this hatred to your grave. Would youlike us to fetcha clergyman?”

“Fuck you,”myfather spat.
“Fuck you,”myfather spat.
“You
are
an angry and stupid bastard, my lord, aren’t

you?” Captain Horn said. He looked up at Gaston. “Here, we might as well tend to this poor soul.” He indicated Shane. “And once we move him, I can search the Earl here for weapons he might try and use against you when you tend him. Maybe he’ll die while we’re about it.”

Gaston went and knelt beside him. “Watch him a moment, and let me discover ifhe willdie.”
Captain Horn nodded, and accompanied by my father’s steady wheezing tirade and pained cries and curses, Gaston gingerlyexamined the wounds.
My man finally nodded. “There is nothing I or any other physician can do for him. The ball appears to have gone deep into his liver. I candigit out; but the organwillnever heal, and he will just die a slow death. Before that, he will bleed to death internally from the stab wounds which have perforated his left lungand his bowels.”
Jenkins and the Captain nodded and regarded one another withserious miens.
Seemingly satisfied there was nothing he could do to save anyone, Gaston turned his attention to Shane, and pulled the blade free from his back before beginning to roll him off my father’s legs. I stood and went to help him, and we laid my poor cousin out and closed his staring, oddly peaceful eyes. I doffed mycoat and spread it over his head and chest.
“Sucha waste,”I said sadlyinFrench. “I have hated him for so long; and here he was this pathetic creature and not the monster of my memories. I feel I did not do all I should have for him.”
Gaston snorted and spoke softly. “Do not be stupid, my love. He was hurting you; and you were too young to know how to wage that battle—even if it could have been won. I could not have mended things with my father until he lost his other sons. Sometimes onlytragedybrings resolution.”
Captain Horn cleared his throat, but when I looked over I onlybeheld myfather glaringat me withpained eyes.
“Well,” I said to my father in English. “He still loved me, you damned bastard—enough to save our lives. Take that to your grave. You accomplished nothing with your campaign of hatred except to ruin
his
life. And he thought
he
was your favored son. Tell me, did you favor himbecause he was weaker and youknew he could be bent to your will?”
My father slowly moved his head until he was staring at the ceilingagain. “YouwillburninHellwithme,”he wheezed.
“Nay, I think not,” I said. “I will atone for my sins in this life, and I shallspend eternitywithmyloved ones, not you.”
“Youwillnot spend eternitywith
him
,”he growled.
“God is a very pathetic deity indeed ifhe allows the likes of you to speak for Him. And I hope that Shane’s father—or whoever it was that drove you to this madness—will not be forced to spend eternitywithyou.”
“I never had a lover, you stupid twat,” he gasped. “You willlearn. Youare Earlnow. Youwilllearn.”
I went to leanover him. “Look at me, youstupid
prick
. I will not learn. I will not choose to accept anything that will make me miserable. Life is too precious to be squandered on base, petty, and meaningless things when compared to Truth, Love, and the Hereafter.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head weakly with a troubled frown.
I looked awayand found Jenkins and CaptainHornnear the door, watching me with furrowed brows. I glared at them untiltheylooked away.
“You should forgive him,” Gaston whispered from my

elbow.“Non.”

“Youforgave Shane.”
“He apologized.”
“Youforgave himbefore tonight.”
“I understood why he was as he was, and I could feel

sympathy for him. I do not understand why this bastard is the wayhe is, and I feelnothingbut hatred for him.”
Gastonsighed and leaned over myfather. “Dorshire?”
My father’s eyes opened and he regarded my man with hate.
“I forgive you,” Gaston said. “And I thank you. If you were not as you are, Will and I would not be together. And, as Will is the best thing in my life, I must thank the misfortune that brought him to me. So thank you. And, I forgive you because there must have been some good in you that was twisted into evil; else you could not be related to Will. So there must have been something worth loving in you once, before you were destroyed; and thus I pity you; and I forgive you your weakness innot beingable to rise above it.”
I sighed as I felt my heart swellwith love for my matelot. It pushed the hate away. “There are days when you still make myheart ache,”I told myman.
“Withlove?”he asked withthe trace ofmischief.
“Non, withthe need to smack you.”
He smiled patientlyand withgreat regard.
I sighed again and looked down at my father, who was regarding us with pain and dismay. “I forgive you,” I said tightly, the words barely clearing my throat. I cursed silently and begged the Gods for Their patience and understanding. “I forgive you,” I managed with a little more volume and sincerity. “I forgive you for beingweak. That I cando. I cannot forgive youfor… Shane, or Vivian, or everyone else I have known and loved who has been troubled and cast to the winds before your foolish hatred. But I can see that that hatred is born of deep misery, and can feel pity for that. Not as much as I feel for the people you have troubled, but some. And aye, I will forgive you the trouble you have caused me. I willbecause my man is correct:without you, I would not be who I am. Youhave set me a fine example ofwhat not to become. So I thank you. Now make your peace with God, and mayHe have mercyonyour soul.”
He shook his head, and I saw sadness in his eyes. “I am damned.”
“I am sorry,” I said, and truly meant it. Tears filled my eyes, and I knew it was because he
was
damned. He would never be at peace. He simply could not see his way clear to do it, and there but for the Grace of the Gods—and my matelot— went I.
here to kill you,” I said. “I came here to resolve things between us so that we could bothbe at peace. I trulydid. But everyone is correct; we are damn stubborn men. I amvery much your son in that regard. Sometimes it serves me well, and other times it serves me as poorlyas I feelit has served you.”
“Do not presume to know what I think,”he wheezed.
I shook my head with wonder and bemusement. “You are stubborn. Fine, take it to your grave. Perhaps you are a braver manthanI.”
“You cannot win,” he hissed. “Nay, nay, it is not me.
They
will not let you. You are just too stupid to see that. You always have been.”
“Were you willing to walk away—to keep that which youwanted and give the rest away?”
“That is not winning,”he gasped.
“It is for me,”I said. “I would rather live the life I want.”
“But that is not fair,”he breathed.
“To whom?”
“To everyone who follows the rules. You cannot win by…
changing
the rules…”
“Whynot?”
He shook his head; his gaze upon the ceiling became unfocused and wavered.
“Father?”
Withone last wobble ofnegation, he breathed his last.
With trembling fingers, I closed his eyes. “May the Gods have mercyonyour soul,”I whispered.

One Hundred and Fourteen Wherein We Find Ourselves in a Dragon’s Shadow

Gaston pulled me to my feet and away, back into the shadows of the cellar. Then he held me. I felt his solid body against mine and I let the tension drain frommy back and soul. It was done: for whatever it was worth, it was done and we had

lived. “I love you,”I whispered.

“And I you,”he breathed. “How are we?”
I thought onit. “Exhausted. Numb. And you?” “The same,” he sighed. “And fearful of what awaits us

next.” I wished to say that surely the worst was behind us; but

we stillstood alone in a cellar with two dead bodies and soldiers under the command of some purported benefactor we knew nothingabout. Myworryreturned.

There was a great deal more commotion in the house above. We listened as it poured down the stairs and through the kitchen like a rock slide. Then Captain Horn and Jenkins were tripping over one another to provide some coherent account of the night’s events to several nobleman and gentlemen. We did not move to see these new arrivals. I assumed it was the Earl of not move to see these new arrivals. I assumed it was the Earl of Whyse and his entourage.

Then, “Where are my sons?” was asked quite forcefully —inEnglish—byGaston’s father.
We stiffened and exchanged a startled look before darting out into the lantern light. We were immediately accosted and embraced bythe Marquis and Theodore.
The Marquis was in tears and could not let either of us go. He cupped our faces one after the other and embraced us againand again. Theodore was equallyenthusiastic.
“You are supposed to be in Holland,” I gasped as Theodore pounded myback heartily.
“Oh, shut up,”he said and held me tighter.
“How is everyone?” I finally had the presence of mind to ask. “The children, the ladies, are theyhere?”
They nodded in unison, and Theodore said in French, “They are well and safe; and oui, they are here. They are at a house we leased in a village near your father’s lands. Where are Pete and Cudro, and Ash, and, um,
Chris
?”
“We have not seen them since Panama when we were abducted,”I said.
“Aha!”a voice boomed fromnearby.
Startled, I looked about and beheld a tall man dressed all in red velvet and white lace, with black boots that might have taken an entire calf apiece—if not several, considering his height: he was stooping, and yet his elegant and ornate chapeau was still scrapingthe ceiling. He had a wide smile and livelydemeanor.
“My lord, allow me to introduce the Earl of Whyse,” Theodore said quickly. “Mylord, this is the Vis…”
Theodore said quickly. “Mylord, this is the Vis…”
The Earl of Whyse
tsked
before Theodore could finish. “Nay, mygood man:that is the EarlofDorshire.”
He bowed as if I was his equal, and I managed to do likewise while my thoughts awkwardly tripped over themselves as I understood his meaning. Myfather was dead:bythe Gods, I was the EarlofDorshire. Unless…
“Ifit pleases His Majesty, the king,”I said quickly.
Whyse snorted and grinned. “Oh, it most certainly does.”
“You were quite correct, your father is…
was
not favored bythe king,”Theodore whispered.
“Now, did you not just say you last saw someone in Panama?”Whyse asked withglee.
I nodded.
“So that damnfoolMorganactuallywent to Panama?”
I nodded again.
“Well, then, you are the first person fromwhomwe shall be able to hear anaccount.”
“Ah,” I said stupidly. “I will be happy to tell you all I can.”
“But not tonight,”the Marquis said firmly.
Whyse bowed in acquiescence and reined in his excitement a little as he glanced at the bodies. “Nay, it can wait untilthe morrow. I know the four ofyouhave muchto discuss.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Theodore said with great sincerity. “For all you have done on our behalf; and the behalf of Lord Dorshire and Lord Montren.”
“It has been my pleasure; as I amsure it will continue to be,” Whyse said. He looked to the bodies again and sobered further. “Lord Dorshire, would you like for me to send the appropriate agents to arrange for the services and burials? I know you have much to consider, but I assume you will have themburied onthe estate.”
“Aye, please,”I said.
“I will be happy to assist you in any way I can. My retainers are at your disposal.” He frowned at me, his eyes raking up and down my body and then Gaston’s. “I will also send mytailor.”
I managed to keep my face quite bland despite being appalled. “Thank you, Lord Whyse, that will be much appreciated. Thank youfor everything. It appears youhave been our guardianangel.”
He chuckled. “You are very welcome. I amrelieved you are safe and well. We feared the worst when my damn men did not catch you in Portsmouth.” He sighed. “But apparently you possess celestial angels as well as terrestrial ones.” He chuckled anew. “My men did find Thorp.” Whyse’s grin indicated they had found him as we had left him—presumably with a dildo still shoved downhis throat—and reported the same to their lord.
“I willcallon the morrow, then,” Whyse continued, “and we shall discuss your adventures. I amsure you will liven my life considerably. Just hearing of your exploits has kept me quite amused for severalyears now.”
My thoughts were stumbling over his
for several years now
, but I forced words frommymouth. “I live to amuse.”
He laughed, and bowed with a flourish of his hat in parting. He took up so much of the available air with the gesture that myHorse wished to shyand retreat.
“I need to get out ofthis cellar,”I said as soonas he was gone.
Gaston’s hand slipped into mine, and his grip was painful. I returned it in kind, and made for the door and freedom, with the Marquis and Theodore in our wake. I soon regretted leaving the relatively open space of the cellar as we pushed our way through a mob of confused servants and retainers. Being a giant and dressed all in red, Whyse had undoubtedly made easy work of his passage through the hall, but these people did not know me in my shabby attire. They grasped at Jenkins and bombarded him with questions as he attempted to clear a path