The Wolfe (13 page)

When the battle had dwindled and
Abner had called a retreat, Malcolm and the others had skulked back into the
woods where most of the soldiers were sent back to McKenna Keep. A few of them,
however, had remained hidden in the woods, pacing the English army’s moves.

They sat underneath a group of damp,
dense trees, wrapped in their hunting tartans; waiting for Malcolm and Abner’s
next orders. There were eight men in all; all swarthy Scots; all filled with
hate for the English. They listened intently while Malcolm and Abner reasoned
out another plan.

“I say that the attack was
successful,” Malcolm was saying. “We wounded quite a number of the bastards.”

Abner, his blond hair wet with filth
and the dampness in the air, shook his head. “Aye, but we lost a fair number of
our own, including Ralph. He was my Da’s greatest warrior.”

The others nodded solemnly and
Malcolm hoped they didn’t believe he was personally responsible. He cleared his
throat.

“Be that as it may, we still caught
them by surprise,” he said. “I think our next step will be…will be to sneak in
to the camp and take Jordan.”

“Take her – hell!” Abner snorted. “We
slit her throat while she sleep. The English will think that one of their own did
it and Thomas Scott will declare a blood war on ‘em.”

Malcolm fixed Abner with a hard
stare. “I wunna be a party to killing my own cousin.”

Abner glared at him. “What ye want
is of no matter. We will do what must be done.”

Malcolm was silent. He was also outnumbered.
He chewed his lip for a moment thoughtfully.

“Then who does it?” he asked
quietly. “It wunna be me.”

Abner shrugged. “One of us’ll do it.”

The lot of them were quiet for a
long while, each staring into the darkness with their own thoughts. An owl
hooted somewhere above their heads.

“She left with the captain of the
guard,” Malcolm said quietly. “The huge man on the grey destrier. Did ye see
him on the battlefield? I bet he keeps her with him.”

Abner nodded. “Aye, I saw him,” he
said grimly. “He’s the one that killed Ralph. Almost sliced him clean through
the middle with that big sword of his. Aye, he was the fiercest of all. Musta
killed twenty of our men by himself.”

“I wunna challenge him,” said one
man. “If he’s with her, I wunna be the one to slit her throat. Most likely get
mine slit instead.”

Abner and Malcolm looked up, seeing
that the others nodded in agreement.

“What’s the matter with ye?” Abner
demanded. “Have ye all become coward because of one English bastard?”

“Abner, we’ve fought that man
before, dunna ye remember? The one they call The Wolf,” another man said. “He’s
got protection from the devil or something. Not one of us can even get close to
the man before we’re cut down. I wunna fight him, I can say that. He’s strong
enough on the field, but one on one I wunna fight him.”

Abner stood up angrily. “Then ye’re
no man of mine,” he snarled. “He’s just a man, like any other.”

“He’s a man, all right, but not like
any other,” said the first man He was a seasoned soldier and had seen many
years of the border wars. “I dunna know his Christian name, but they call him The
Wolf because he’s damn near invincible. Ye canna kill him, and if he’s the one
protecting Jordan, then we might as well go back to the keep.”

Abner stood still a moment. “The
Wolf. I have heard of the man. That was him?”

“Aye,” the older soldier said. “I
first saw him fight near 14 years ago when he was a lad. He was good then.
Shoulda killed him when I had the chance.”

“Not just him, but he had at least eight
other knights that fought like demons,” another man piped up. “I dunna want to
go up against any of them, not without proper armor or weapons.”

Abner turned to Malcolm. “Ye say he
took Jordan himself? What else did he say, man, ye were there?”

Malcolm looked thoughtful. “He
announced himself to Uncle Thomas, said his name was…Wolf. Sir William Wolf,
I think. Then he took Jordan and left. That’s all there is to it.”

The mood among the men was bleaker
than it had been just moments earlier. None wanted to return to Dunbar McKenna
and inform him of their failure, especially Malcolm. He took this mission very
personally. Yet none wanted to confront The Wolf, either. Finally, Malcolm rose
stiffly.

“I shall go,” he said. “Jordan’s my
kin. I shall go.”

They all looked at him as he waited
expectantly for someone to agree to go with him, yet no one wanted to.

Abner let out a blustery sigh. “Then
I shall go, too. Ye hold off The Wolf and I shall slit yer cousin’s throat.
Tate, Dougal, come with us.”

Malcolm looked as if he wanted to
argue about Jordan’s fate, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want her
killed, but sacrifices would have to be made. The man that Abner ordered to
attend as well looked about as happy as he felt.

“Come on, then,” he said after a
moment. “Send the others back. We’ll finish the job.”

The party split up; four men
returning to the safety of the keep and four men descending into The Wolf’s
lair. ‘Twas not an appealing prospect for the latter.

***

William was not angry with Jordan.
He was positively livid.

He was also exceedingly weary. His
hair was wet with perspiration and his face was unshaven and grimy. He still
wore all of his battle armor, save his helmet, and he had a big gash on his
neck. Still, he continued to bark orders and involve himself in every
operation, all the while keeping Jordan seated in the center of his tent. Even
with his anger, Jordan felt safe with him. Outside the tent, with all of those
battle-weary English soldiers, was definitely not the place she wanted to be.

After an eternity of orders,
conferences and the like, the tent was finally vacant save she and William. He
still had not looked at her. Moving to a jug of wine, he poured himself a healthy
amount and drank the whole thing in two swallows.

“Our enemy wore Scott tartan,” he
remarked.

The sound of his voice made her jump;
it was laced with venom. “I know,” she replied. “But they were not Scott men. I
would have recognized them.”

He turned to her, scrutinizing her. “How
many men does your father carry?”

“Near six hundred,” she replied.

“And you would recognize each and
every one of them?” he countered sharply.

“Aye,” she was not ruffled. She had
expected the interrogation. “Dunna forget, sir knight, that I tend my father’s
wounded soldiers. There are none that I have not seen, because my father does
not take on new men-at-arms unless they be relatives of the men already in
service.”

He poured more wine. She cleared her
throat. “They wore the tartan incorrectly, as well,” she went on. “My father’s
soldiers are always impeccably dressed. These men were sloppy. And another
thing, I think, the most important thing, was that McKenna tartan was mixed in.
We are not allied with the McKenna.”

He glanced up. “I saw the McKenna.
But you have fought with the McKenna before, Jordan. I know.”

“Aye,” she confirmed. “But my Da
ended that association several months back. He doesna like Dunbar McKenna.”

William took a smaller drink of wine
and turned around to face her, she thought, pondering her information.

“So you are telling me that this
army was not your father’s?” he asked forcefully.

She shook her head vigorously. “Aye,
‘twas not,” she said. “My father is a man of his word, English. He wouldna have
done this.”

He thought on that for several
minutes. She could see his jaw ticking even though the rest of him was as still
as stone. She was beginning to think that the questioning might be over, and it
had gone much better than she had ever hoped. But she was very wrong.

With the initial questions out of
the way, William could focus on the real problem bothering him. He had done a
very good job of keeping his anger in check, but every time he thought of the
danger she had put herself in, he got hot all over again. He had to admit to
himself that it wasn’t so much that she had disobeyed him, but the fact he had
been so bloody terrified for her safety. Every time he thought of how close she
came to being injured, or worse, it fed his rage. He prayed to God to give him
the control he would need to get through this.

“I told you to ride to Northwood,”
William said finally.

She shook her head. “Nay, ye dinna.
Ye told Sir Jason to ride to Northwood,” she replied. “Ye dinna tell me
anything.”

His hazel-gold eyes glared at her
Jordan matched his gaze, trying not to be intimidated by him. Swearing under his
breath, he turned away from her. He was becoming more infuriated by the second.

“Do not you realize the danger you
were in?” he suddenly exploded.

She startled at his booming voice.
She’d never even heard the man raise his voice much less boom. She began to
shake.

“I had to see if it was Scott’s ye
were fighting. ‘Twas worth the risk,” she answered.

He whirled around to her. “Worth the
risk?” he repeated incredulously. “Damnation, Jordan, you deliberately
disobeyed me. We were fighting to buy you and Jason enough time to reach
safety, and instead, you returned to the middle of it. It was stupid.”

She blinked at the insult, dropping
her head. “’Twas not stupid if ye consider why I thought it worth the risk,”
she said softly. “I had to see for myself if my father had betrayed his word.
Moreover, from the moment the army attacked, the marriage contract was void. I
ceased to become a valuable commodity and instead became a prisoner. Dying in
battle would be preferable to rotting away in the tower.”

He stopped mid-rage and looked at
the top of her lowered head. “There you go with that tower nonsense again,” he
said, the fire out of his tone. “Furthermore, ‘tis Lord de Longley’s decision
whether you would still become his bride or whether you would become a
prisoner. You do not seem to realize that you no longer control your destiny.”

She lifted her head and his heart
constricted to see tears in her eyes. Yelling at her was like yelling at a
helpless pup; he felt like an ogre.

“If I controlled my own destiny, do
ye think for one moment that I would be here sitting in front of an English
knight?” she returned softly. “But I do apologize for being stupid. I shouldna
have distracted ye on the battlefield like I did. But I was scared and sickened
by all of it, and when that giant man attacked ye I thought….”

She dissolved into faint sniffles
and he relented. He felt like a sadistic fiend for reprimanding her, even
though she deserved worse.

With a sigh of defeat, he knelt
beside the chair and wondered why in the hell this woman’s tears affected him
so.
Paris was right
, he thought grimly. This woman had the power to turn
him to putty.

“My lady,” he said softly.

She ignored him, sniffling into her
hand.  He tried again.

“Jordan,” he said, more firmly, and
put a finger under her chin, lifting her face to look at him. Her sobs nearly
broke his heart. “You are not stupid and I am sorry I called you that. I did
not mean it. But you must trust that I know what is best for you and your
safety. I have promised my life to protect you - remember?”

When she nodded, he smiled gently at
her. “And as for that giant on the battlefield, he could not kill me. I have
fought him before and I know his weaknesses. ‘Twas simply a matter of time
before he made a mistake I could take advantage of, which I did.”

“But I thought he had cut off yer
head,” she wept.

She began to sob again and he
chuckled softly, pulling her head down against his neck. He should not have
done it, but he could not help himself. Her concern was touching.

“There is not a sword made yet that
can destroy me,” he whispered into her hair. “Do not fear, my lady.”

Much to his astonishment, both arms
went around his neck and she continued to cry her heart out. Before he even
realized he was doing it, his instincts took charge and his arms enfolded her protectively.
He was seized by a tremendous urge to defend and guard her, for always. The
feeling gripped him like an iron vise and he knew that all the rationalizing in
the world would not chase it away. He was overwhelmed with it, and with her. He
was more than infatuated and nearly ill with the prospect.

 “My lady,” he cleared his throat
softly. “Stop your tears. You will make yourself ill.”

Jordan pulled back, wiping at her
eyes. “I am sorry, sir knight,” she said, then glanced timidly at him. “But I
saw ye fight. Ye were magnificent. ‘Twas almost worth the scare to be able to
watch ye in action.”

He smiled faintly, gazing into that
lovely face. “I have been a soldier for many years, my lady. I should hope that
I would be proficient at it by now,” he said modestly.