Renegade Heart (11 page)

He feigned a yawn and looked around the gathered men apologetically. “I’m tired and hungry and not making much sense,” he said lightly. “I also have a son to get to know, so I think it is time to take my leave.”

“Wolf, there are still things to discuss,” Fairac objected, annoyed at the younger man’s blatant disregard for his leadership.

“And they will still be there to discuss in the morning.” Wolf smiled. “Including the fact, you have a spy in your camp and knew nothing about it. So, I’ll bid you all good night.”

F
or most in the camp it was a restless night. The men, who had expected to be elated at Wolf’s return, instead found themselves unsettled by his strange demeanour. All of them could tell there was something wrong with him without being able to say just what and Wolf himself was giving nothing away. They wanted to trust him as much as they always had, but it was hard to believe Ombar had released him simply to act as his messenger. All any of them could do was wait and see what happened next.

Despite Fairac’s orders to stay in camp, Lark had disappeared into the forest, choosing to sleep in one of his leafy hideaways deep in the trees rather than stay and watch Enola be reunited with Wolf. He also knew it was only a matter of time before Wolf learned of Enola’s infidelity and when he did, Lark did not want to be around.

Enola had woken during the night, realising with a start that she and Hawk were not alone in their small shelter. As soon as she saw Wolf she realised she had known all along that he would come. Beside her straw mattress, Wolf lay stretched out on the hard ground, murmuring softly in his sleep.

Enola’s heart swelled at the sight of him. How could she have ever thought there would come a time when she would not love him? There was no denying her attraction to Lark, but the feelings she had for him were not love. He did not make her heart skip a beat every time she laid eyes on him, unlike the man on the ground beside her bed. Silently, not wanting to wake Hawk, she slipped from the mattress and curled against Wolf’s warm body, resting her head on his broad chest.

“I love you, Wolf,” she whispered. “I always have.”

She fell asleep to the sound of his rhythmic heartbeat, certain everything would be okay now that Wolf had found his way home to her.

A few hours later she woke to find herself back on her mattress, her blanket tucked around her. Hawk sat at her side shaking her shoulder, impatient to start his day.

Enola sat up, relieved to see Wolf had only gone as far as the felled log just outside her shelter. He sat with his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands. She looked back at her son, an idea forming in her mind.

“Why don’t you go outside and talk to your papa?”

Hawk glanced towards his father and scowled. “Don’t want to. He’s mean.”

“No, he’s just shy right now because he doesn’t know how wonderful you are. I know,” she said brightly, “why don’t you show him the little wooden horse Dyzac carved for you?”

“Okay, Mama.” Hawk sighed heavily and left the shelter as though he bore the weight of the world on his small shoulders.

Wolf lifted his head as the child approached, his apprehensive expression matching that of the boy’s. Father and son studied each other in uncomfortable silence, their handsome faces filled with uncertainty. In the end it was Hawk who spoke first, scuffing the ground with his bare foot in awkwardness.

“Want to see something?”

Wolf regarded his son solemnly before answering, his tone unusually hesitant.

“If you like. I mean…yes. That would be nice. Thank you.”

Watching from just inside the shelter, Enola would have laughed if not for the fact Wolf’s nervousness was so heart breaking. The past few turns she had wondered countless times how Wolf would take to being a father, but she had never imagined he would not take to it all. She had seen that look in his eyes before; remembered it well from their days in the orphanage. It was the look he used to get when he knew he was in trouble. When he felt trapped and the urge to run away threatened to overwhelm him.

Hawk reappeared having fetched his precious offering. To Enola’s dismay he handed to his father, not Dyzac’s carved horse, but his little bow and arrow.

“Look what Lark made me.”

Without saying a word to his son, Wolf snatched to bow and arrow from the boy’s hands and snapped them across his knee before tossing the pieces on the ground. Then he got up and stalked away, not looking back even when Hawk burst into noisy tears of outrage.

Enola rushed from the shelter and gathered the screaming child in her arms, her eyes stinging with hot angry tears of her own.

“Doesn’t Papa like me?” Hawk sniffed sorrowfully once his sobs subsided.

“Of course he does,” Enola replied, drying his tear stained face with the hem of her skirt.

“Well, I don’t like him,” her son stated firmly picking up the broken pieces of his favourite toy and clutching them to his chest. “I wish he wasn’t my papa at all.”

Unaware of what had just taken place on the other side of the camp, Magnosa and Fairac sat by the smouldering campfire and sipped the strong herbal brew that Krisha had become so adept at making. Since last night they had avoided talking about the implications of Wolf’s return, but in the early morning light Magnosa could hold back no longer.

“Is he dangerous?” she asked abruptly. “And don’t you dare tell me this is renegade business. Not when it involves Enola and Hawk.”

Fairac checked over his shoulder to make sure there was no one close enough to overhear them. When he spoke his voice was low and troubled. “He has always been dangerous, Magnosa. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“But you saw what I saw last night?”

“There was nothing to see,” Fairac fretted. “And that’s what worries me. You say he’s loved Enola his whole life, yet he barely reacted to finding her here. And the same with the child. How could he show so little emotion on discovering he has a son?”

Magnosa nodded in agreement. “I thought when I offered to take the boy he would be relieved or pleased or even annoyed at my interference, but there was nothing. He looked straight through me.”

“Lark is the one I fear for most,” Fairac admitted. “If I had not been looking at Wolf closely I would not have seen it. But that moment when he saw Lark there was the merest flicker of something in his eyes. I think he forced himself not to react to Lark. The question is why?”

“You think he knows?”

“I don’t see how it would be possible, but clearly there is something wrong. Grodor deserted during the night, so maybe Wolf spoke the truth about a spy in camp. Anyway, my love,” Fairac straightened up as the men of the camp began to drift towards the campfire in search of their morning brew. “It looks as though duty calls. Let us hope our young renegade can hold onto this anger he has until we reach the castle.”

Later that morning, it was not just the renegade council who assembled around the campfire, but the whole camp. Only Krisha and Hawk remained outside the circle, the young woman as oblivious as to what was happening as the small child. At some point during the meeting Lark slipped quietly back into camp and positioned himself so Wolf would not be able to see him unless he turned around.

Even so, Wolf knew he was there. He felt the unease ripple through the renegades and pretended not to notice the knowing looks exchanged by the women or the way Enola quickly bowed her head. So everyone knew yet they all chose not to tell him. How things had changed if the men were now loyal to the likes of Lark rather than the renegade code.

He tried to concentrate on the plans as Fairac outlined his plans for attacking the castle, but it was hard to stay focused with Enola sat on the other side of the campfire, staring at him with sad brown eyes. It was because of that morning, he guessed, and him losing his temper with the boy the way he had. If she had been angry he would have understood, but her quiet disappointment was so much harder to bear.

In the back ground he could hear the child shrieking in excitement as Krisha chased him around the camp, making it seem all the more unfair that everyone was angry with him for what he had done. From the sound of the boy’s happy laughter, he was evidently not that distressed over the loss of his stupid toy.

Every sound of the child’s shrill voice pierced Wolf’s skull like a hot needle. It burned into his brain and it hurt. He scanned the faces of the other renegades, expecting to see he was not the only one irritated by the presence of the child, but they were all intent on listening to Fairac. Wolf clenched his fists, digging his nails into the palms of his hands using one pain to block out the other. He forced himself to shut out the child’s voice and focused on Fairac instead.

After a few minutes he frowned, realising everything the renegade leader was telling them was wrong. If the men followed Fairac’s orders they would be riding directly to their deaths. Wolf had warned him that Ombar would be expecting them, but Fairac still seemed to think they could ride straight up to the gates of the castle and the King’s Army would simply stand aside and let them in. He muttered under his breath and Fairac stopped talking.

“Did you wish to add something, Wolf?”

All eyes turned on him and Wolf tipped his head back with an air of defiance as he addressed the older man.

“I said it won’t work. If you are so determined to die you may as well slit your own throats now and save the soldiers the trouble.”

“And I suppose you have a better idea?” Fairac demanded, angry that the younger renegade had questioned him in front of the men, dismissing days of planning without so much as the blink of an eye. The men have accepted him as leader after Tregaar’s death, but he knew they would listen to Wolf rather than him, despite the mystery surrounding his release from Ombar’s dungeon.

“Actually, I do,” Wolf said, standing so he was the centre of the group’s attention. “I told you before, I know of ways into the castle unknown even to Ombar. That is our way in. We need to cause a diversion in the gallows courtyard and then strike from the inside.”

“I see,” Fairc said slowly. “And just who do you suggest we send into the courtyard as sacrificial lambs? Because that is what they will be, is it not?”

“Most likely, yes,” Wolf admitted. “But I have seen the courtyard. It is narrow and surrounded on all sides by high walls. These walls are patrolled by troopers. Our swords will be useless. Aside from the fact the courtyard will be crowded, leaving us little room to swing a blade. We would be shot down by archers the instant we showed ourselves.”

“So what is it you are proposing?”

“That we send our own archers into the courtyard.”

“Wolf, listen to me– ” Fairac began and was quickly cut off.

“It’s the only way. They can pick off the troopers on the wall. It will be enough to cause the distraction we need to attack from the inside and free our men.”

“Wolf, there is something you need to know…”

“Are the archers not up to the job?”

“Of course we are.” All heads turned towards Lark as he pushed his way through to the front of the circle. “It seems likely we will die, but if I only get to loose one arrow before I am struck down, may it be into the heart of Ombar himself.”

“No,” Wolf shook his head without meeting the eyes of the man stood before him, “Ombar is mine. When the fighting starts he will seek shelter in his private chamber. I shall be there waiting for him. The rest of you are to release the prisoners.”

“And this is your decision?” Fairac asked. “You are sure there is no other way?”

“I’m sure.”

“Well then, Lark.” The renegade leader turned to the young man with a heavy heart. “Take your archers and teach them as much as you can today. We will leave for the city as soon as darkness falls.”

Wolf watched dispassionately as the archers got to their feet. Anders, who had fallen from a horse and broken his leg so badly he could no longer run. And Sherid, so old and stooped he could no longer lift a sword from the ground. Then Quent, so traumatised by battle he could not endure face to face combat anymore. All of them were expendable.

Suddenly his breath caught in his throat as Enola, Taola and two more of the women made to follow Lark from the circle around the campfire. Unable to stop himself, Wolf reached out and grabbed hold of Enola’s arm.

“Where are you going?”

She looked at him sadly. “I’m an archer now, Wolf. I’m going to do my duty.”

She pulled free of his grasp and followed the others. Wolf turned on Fairac furiously.

“You allowed the women to train to fight?”

“We needed them,” Fairac said coldly. “I tried to warn you, Wolf, but as usual you refused to listen. So come tomorrow, if anything happens to that girl, I trust you will remember you have only yourself to blame.”