War grinned. “Nor will you ever if I have anything to say about it,” he said. “Leave some castles for the rest of us, my lord. We have ambitions, too.”
It was a jest, lightening the mood a little, endearing War to a band of men he’d grown up admiring. But also envying. He was a respectful man by nature, but he was also an honest one. Hewould never admit it, but they’d give him something to strive for. The knights of Northwood and, subsequently, the de Wolfe Pack knights were something all men looked up to.
But War wanted more.
He’d worked all of his life for it.
“I am certain that you do,” William said. “Now that Thropton has been subdued, mayhap Henry will confiscate it and put you in command. I will personally tell him how well you managed this siege.”
War dipped his head in gratitude. “You have my thanks, my lord,” he said. “That is high praise coming from the Wolfe of the Border.”
William’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. He couldn’t help but see that, indeed, there was some de Wolfe resemblance in just the few features he could see. The eye color, the shape of the brow. He was coming to think that he was looking at a cousin, but those questions would have to wait. There would undoubtedly be a feast at the end of this battle and William would do his interrogation then.
This fine young knight who seemed head and shoulders above other men.
“You have earned it,” he said. “I will head back to the encampment, but I am leaving my sons and several other knights here. Tell them what you wish of them and they will make it happen.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
With that, William turned his steed around and headed off with Kieran at his side while Paris remained behind because Northwood’s army was taking charge of prisoners by Michael’s command. As Kieran was William’s second in command, Michael was his. He watched Michael and Deinwald as they plunged in and began to move prisoners and, satisfied all would be tended well, he turned his attention to War.
The knight was speaking to a couple of Bamburgh knights bearing the royal crimson and gold. Paris reined his horse closer.
“Herringthorpe,” he said. “I can send more men into the bailey to corral prisoners if you wish. We seem to have a few hundred out here.”
War turned to him. “I have men inside as well,” he said. “I will have them drive the men to you and you and your men can put them in irons. What I must do now is find Hugh de Whitton.”
“You’ve not located him yet?”
War shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “I’ll find a couple of men to interrogate and they can tell me where the man is.”
“Would you like some company?”
War cocked his head. “You?”
“Indeed.”
“It would be a pleasure.”
With that, they headed off to the inner bailey where James, Alec, and Christian had come off the battlements, joining Paris’ sons Hector and Apollo. A couple of senior de Whitton men were located and Paris, James, Alec, Christian, Hector, and Apollo had the privilege of watching a Blackchurch knight’s interrogation technique.
It was truly something to behold.
Then again, so was Warwick Herringthorpe.
When the men finally broke, it took little time to find Lord de Whitton hiding in the dungeons dressed as a maid. The man had been positively terrified and rather than punish him once he was located, de Wolfe took control over the situation.
His lesson in benevolence had been an interesting one for the younger knights, War included.
Whereas War had used rather unsavory interrogation techniques against the de Whitton men, de Wolfe had changed tactics once they located de Whitton himself. He hadn’t beenvindictive or cruel, but simply sat de Whitton down and spoke to the man with respect. It hadn’t been long before de Whitton broke down completely and wept, convinced that everything he’d ever worked for had been destroyed. He’d truly believed in de Montfort and what the man had been trying to achieve. He believed that every nobleman should have a voice in his own country. De Wolfe had convinced him that England needed lords who wanted a better future.
That kind of counsel had been something to witness.
Not strangely, War had new respect for de Wolfe after that. The man had not only managed to calm a hysterical lord, but he’d convinced the man to travel to London and beg Henry’s forgiveness. De Wolfe even offered to send him with a letter for Henry, asking for clemency. De Whitton hadn’t sided with de Montfort out of spite or greed, but out of a genuine belief that the country should be managed by the people for the people. It was a radical ideal that had yet to see its day, but his motives were true.
William saw that even if no one else did.
In spite of himself, War came to see it, too. That had been his introduction to William de Wolfe and what the man stood for.
