Warwolfe (de Wolfe Pack Book 0)(60)

She did have loyalty to him… didn’t she?

“I was not aware that Alary was a bastard,” he finally said.

Ghislaine nodded. “My father had concubines,” she said, thinking of Gaetan’s bedslaves and finding distress in the thought. She didn’t like to reminded that he had women that were close to him. “Alary is the son of a woman my father kept company with for years. I was told by some that he loved her. When Alary was born, he insisted my mother treat him as one of the family, which was a difficult thing for her to do. It seemed that my mother had trouble conceiving more children and in an attempt to give my father another son, I was born several years later. I was not a welcome child, by either parent. Therefore, Alary and I have always had a strange bond between us. I do not love him and he does not love me, but we understand one another. We are both forgotten children of a powerful House.”

Gaetan was listening to her, perhaps more closely than he wanted to. With every day, every hour, showing him more interested in her, he was naturally curious about her background. Yet, this was not the time nor the place. Perhaps at some later date, he would know about her birth and upbringing, but not now. Now, he had a knight to rescue.

And her brother to kill.

“Then if you understand your brother so well,” he said, “tell me if he will follow through on his threat to harm Kristoph even more if he discovers we are still following him.”

Ghislaine averted her gaze when he asked the question, mostly because she knew he wasn’t going to like the answer. Already, she didn’t like it. But she knew, in her heart, that it was the truth.

“The finger is only the beginning,” she said quietly. “Alary of Mercia never says anything he does not mean. That is why it is imperative for us to stay away from him unless you want de Lohr sent back to you in pieces.”

Gaetan believed her, word for word.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN




?

Dogs of War


The next five days of travel had seen Ghislaine, Gaetan, and the knights making at least twenty-five miles a day, sometimes more if the pushed the horses. They’d been making excellent time without the army to drag them down, and the war horses were hearty and well-fed. They rested every night for several hours before beginning the trek in the morning again. There was a drive behind their swift travel, something felt intently by every man – they had to make it north before Alary did to intercept him before he could make it to Tenebris.

It was the fuel that fed their fire.

Now that it was just the eleven of them, including Jathan, travel had been a different experience than it had when the army was all around them. The knights still rode in formation – men on point, men in the middle, men covering the rear, but there was more conversation. Quiet snippets of it bounced around and the travel, in general, was more relaxed but no less determined. Also of note was the fact that they rode with their shields slung over their left knees, which they hadn’t done before, and they rode in tight quarters with Ghislaine in the middle. It was a defensive formation in case they were attacked. But so far, their travel had been thankfully uneventful.

After the incident five days ago, Ghislaine was no longer riding up near Gaetan, as he remained in the front, but de Russe never left her side. He remained on her left while Wellesbourne was on her right. Even when the other men changed positions, those two remained the same. Ghislaine was coming to think that they’d been appointed her protectors or they were simply keeping an eye on her just in case she really did have something to do with tipping off her brother. She was the enemy, after all. Ghislaine kept having to remind herself of that.

But she never asked them because the men really didn’t talk to her. She was genuinely disappointed that they had taken a step or two back in their relationship. They were back to simply tolerating her again because of what happened with Gunnora and Ghislaine wasn’t sure what more she could do to change their minds. There seemed to be some debate among them as to who trusted her and who didn’t, something that left her feeling sad and uncomfortable. Now, all she could do was take comfort in the big gray dog that seemed to follow her every move.

Camulos the dog had taken a liking to her and, try as she might, she couldn’t shake the beast so she’d stopped trying. He was the only real companionship she had now. He even slept with her, a great big smelly dog who loved to cuddle, and she found herself overcoming her dislike of dogs because of it. She found it very strange that so seasoned a knight should have a dog that wasn’t a killer, but she was glad for her sake. The dog gave her camaraderie when no one else really did.

But her disappointment wasn’t only in the situation, or what had happened with Kristoph’s finger. Her most heartfelt disappointment was in the fact that Gaetan seemed removed from her now, hardly speaking to her these past few days. He would only address her if it had something to do with the road or their travel in general, but that was where it ended.

Even at the end of the day when they would stop and camp for the night, with Wellesbourne and St. Hèver building massive bonfires to keep the darkness away, Gaetan would stay clear of her as she ate with Jathan and the dog while Gaetan and his men sat around one of the big bonfires. She was so very sad that she was no longer privileged enough to sit and talk to Gaetan. She kept reflecting back to the night at Westerham when they’d included her in their drinking and revelry. It was the best night of her life.