Warwolfe (de Wolfe Pack Book 0)(99)

Verity, too, seemed to be following her sister at a clipped pace, leading Lygia to believe that Verity might think something of these handsome strangers, as well, even though she’d not said anything. She was the quiet one at times. Lygia was on the heels of her eager sisters.

“It does not matter what she is,” she said. “And you will not ask her, Atia.”

Atia made a face at her sister. “Can I at least ask her about her warriors?”

“Nay!”

“Can I speak with her at all?”

Lygia cocked an eyebrow at her. “Only if you are polite and do not ask foolish questions.”

Quitting the cottage, the young women emerged into an open area beneath the massive tree canopy. Their cottage was set off from the rest, for privacy, and they even had their own bread kiln and stock corral for their pigs and goats. But in heading towards old Pullum’s hut, they had to pass by the central meeting area where the strange warriors and the lone lady had first entered, and Atia was very eager to see if those men were still around. Verity was only slightly less obvious about it, which gave her interest away completely. The two of them were searching eagerly for the strange warriors when they caught sight of the men over near the convening house. Atia grabbed hold of Verity.

“Look!” she hissed, pointing discreetly. “There they are!”

Lygia, who had been walking ahead of them at this point, came to a halt and waited for them to catch up to her. When the pair also came to a halt, gawking at the warriors in the distance, Lygia reached over and grabbed hold of Verity, pulling her and Atia along.

“Stop looking at them as if you’ve never seen men before,” she said. “You are making fools of yourselves.”

Verity was trying to walk but Atia was dragging on her, making the entire procession go quite slowly. Suddenly, their father came into view from behind the convening house and Atia began calling to him, jumping up and down and waving until Lygia grabbed hold of her.

“Stop it!” she hissed at her sister. “Are you trying to show everyone what an idiot you are?”

Atia yanked herself away from her sister and ran straight for her father who, having seen his youngest daughter waving at him, made his way towards his girls. Atia grabbed hold of his arm, pulling on him, as he smiled tolerantly at her.

“Have you gone to Pullum as I have instructed?” he asked his girls.

They nodded in unison but Lygia answered. “We have,” she said. “Pullum asked us to help bathe and tend the lady, but it would be too difficult to do it in Pullum’s hut. May we bring her to ours, Pa?”

Antillius considered it. “It might be better if we put her someplace where she would not be disturbed,” he said. “There would be noise in our cottage with many people walking about. There is an empty hut near the pool since the death of old Drucilla. Why not put her there? It would be quiet and peaceful.”

Lygia thought that was a good idea. “I shall have the copper tub put in that cottage for her,” she said. “We shall go and make her bed. Where are her possessions?”

Antillius shook his head. “With her soldiers, I would imagine,” he said. “I will ask.”

“About the soldiers, Pa,” Atia said, hanging on his arm. “Who are they?”

Antillius knew his youngest well enough to know that she wasn’t asking purely to be polite. Atia had an eye for young men and was quite enamored with the opposite sex as a whole.

“They are from France,” he told her. “They have come to our lands seeking a comrade who has been abducted and they are simply passing through.”

Atia was thrilled to hear they were from a mysterious, far-off land. That’s what France was to the isolated young woman, something she’d only heard about in stories. “Can we speak with them, Pa?” she begged. “I would like to hear of their travels and of their home. Please, can we speak with them?”

Antillius knew that question would come, at some point. He just didn’t think it would come so soon. He patted Atia on her soft cheek. “Not yet,” he said. “I do not know these men. I do not know their hearts. Let me determine that they are men of good character before I permit my daughters to be around them.”

Atia’s face fell with disappointment. “But –!”

Antillius grasped her chin and gave her a gentle shake. “Not yet,” he told her firmly. “We have allowed these men into our world but I do not trust them yet. We do not know them. You will stay away from them until such time as I deem it appropriate to have contact with them. If you do not obey me, I will take a branch to you, Atia. Do you understand?”

Atia sighed heavily, grossly disappointed. “Aye,” she said. “But I have heard you speak of finding new blood for our people, Pa. You have said yourself that our numbers are less and less every year, that less babies are born. Would not men such as these bring the new blood you have spoken of?”

Antillius had, indeed, spoken of that very thing at times; after centuries of inbreeding and sickness, his people were a dying race. He knew that. He had hoped for strong husbands for his daughters to bring new bloodlines into their tribe. And it was, indeed, possible that these warriors were the new blood that he had hoped for, but it was far too early to tell. He couldn’t even guess. As he told Atia, he did not know these men. He didn’t know their hearts or their deeds and, until he did, he would continue to be wary of them.