Markus nodded sharply at his grandfather, motioning to his cousins, who were standing grouped near their grandfather. Young knights who had all of the hunger of the de Wolfes and the skill of their powerful fathers and grandfathers. William de Wolfe, or Will as he was known to the family, was Scott’s eldest son. At twenty years and nine, he was powerfully built and extremely talented. He was also far more level-headed than his arrogant cousin and the smirk on his face told William everything the young man was thinking. Following Will was Andreas de Wolfe, Troy’s eldest son, at twenty years and eight. Andreas was taller than his father and built for battle, yet another gifted de Wolfe offspring.
Along with Markus, those three rounded out the eldest of the grandsons of William de Wolfe present in the solar, a legacy that any man would be proud of, but there were more grandsons waiting in the wings. Specifically, waiting on the fringes of the solar and practically gnashing their teeth to be involved in the ambush of their Uncle Thomas.
Young, foolish, eager lads.
William eyed the collection of them, who looked at him with great hope that they would be allowed on this endeavor. Rowan de Wolfe was the leader of the de Wolfe cubs at fifteen years, son of James de Wolfe. James, who went by his Welsh nameof Blayth, was William’s fourth son, a man believed killed in battle years ago but who had been found living amongst the Welsh, unaware of his true identity. But Blayth had eventually returned to England, bringing with him a Welsh wife, and he had reestablished a strong relationship with his firstborn son, a young man who was growing up to be much like his gentle, humorous, but fierce father.
Along with Rowan were his cousins Edward and Axel, at twelve years and ten years respectively, sons of Blayth’s twin sister, Katheryn. Edward and Axel’s father was Alec Hage, son of Kieran Hage, who had been William’s close friend and second-in-command up until his death two years before. The boys had Kieran’s immense size, even at their young age, and they were tough lads who were more than willing to jump into a fight, both a noble and foolish inclination. In this situation, William thought it was more foolish than noble, and he shook his head in resignation at his grandsons.
“You intend to help, do you?” he asked them, watching heads bob up and down eagerly. Suspecting it might do them good to get pummeled in a real fight, he held up his hands as if to surrender. “Then go. Will, watch out for the younger boys. Make sure Thomas does not bash their heads or kick in their teeth.”
Will, standing over by the entry to the solar, fought off a grin. “No promises,” he said, waving impatiently to the three younger cousins. “Get over here, you scabs. Stay behind us and move when we move. If your Uncle Thomas catches you alone, he will box your ears.”
The boys scampered over to him, although the command was mostly geared towards Edward and Axel. Rowan was a very big lad for his age and could hold his own in a fight, but the younger two were aggressive and ludicrous at times. With a long look at William, Will grabbed Axel by the neck and yanked the boys outinto the darkness of the entry where Andreas and Markus were already looking for a place to hide.
To wait.
With the six of them out in the entry somewhere, William motioned to Patrick and Scott, standing closest to the banks of fat tallow candles that were burning low and sooty.
“Douse those tapers,” he instructed quietly, blowing out the ones at his table, the one he used to conduct Questing business. “Atty, shut the door but put your ear against it. We will wait in here until Thomas makes his move, but the second we hear sounds of a struggle, out we go to join it.”
Atty was what the family called Patrick, even now that he was a middle-aged man. When he’d been very young, he’d been unable to pronounce his name and it had come out as’atty. Patrick moved quickly to do his father’s bidding as Troy and Scott bunched up against the closed door in the darkened chamber, listening to the sounds in the entry outside.
The struggle wasn’t long in coming.
It started with a blow, something heavy either being hit or falling, followed by the wail of a boy. Then, two boys. Patrick jerked open the door to find a mass of men writhing on the keep entry with the yelling coming from Edward and Axel. It was so dark in the entry that they couldn’t see what was going on other than a dark, undulating blob of arms and legs, and Patrick, Scott, and Troy plunged into it, grabbing a hold of legs and trying to pull the younger boys from the top of the pile.
But that didn’t work so well. Unfortunately, Edward and Axel had battle fever and when Scott grabbed Edward by the leg, the boy panicked and lashed out a foot, catching the man in the chin. As Scott stumbled back, Troy inserted himself into his place, grabbing at another leg that happened to belong to Axel. Thinking he was being attacked, Axel screamed as if he’d been stabbed, momentarily startling everyone involved in the melee.
Believing the young boy must have been gored somehow, William came charging out of his solar with an iron bank of candles in his hand, lit up so he could see what the screaming was about only to notice Thomas at the bottom of a pile of men. He could see his youngest son’s head and hands, but that was about it. Everything else had Will, Andreas, Markus, Edward, Axel, Patrick, and Troy all over it. Unfortunately, the surprise of Axel’s scream had most everyone but Thomas pause in what they were doing, which allowed Thomas to shimmy out from underneath Will and Andreas.
But he didn’t have a chance to escape. Realizing Thomas was using a frightened young boy to his advantage, Scott, Troy, and Patrick pounced on Thomas’ upper body, wrestling him to the ground and keeping him there. With Will, Andreas, Markus, and the two young boys on his legs, Thomas was effectively trapped but he wasn’t giving up easily. He continued to growl and strain against men who weren’t going to let him escape.
With all of the noise and screaming, it was inevitable that the entry door opened. Blayth entered, enormous and blond and scarred, his eyes widening at the pile of men on the floor. He came to stand next to his father, looking rather incredulous.
“You caught him,” he said to his father. “Excellent work.”
But William wasn’t feeling so proud. He thought this was all rather futile. He watched the mass, sighing heavily.
“Thomas,” he said calmly. “Is this truly how you wish to end up? With your brothers holding you down like an animal? If your Uncle Kieran was here, you would be suffering his Helm of Shame for your actions. That is what he did to knights who shirked their duties.”
Scott, Troy, and Patrick all fought off grins to varying degrees, knowing what the Helm of Shame was. They’d heard the stories from the old knights and, truth be told, Thomas was very lucky Kieran wasn’t present. No one wanted the Helm ofShame. As it was, Thomas’ face was pressed into the wooden floor of the entry by virtue of Patrick’s hand on the back of his head. He tried to say something to his father but the words were muffled, so Patrick wrapped his enormous hand in Thomas’ long, dark hair and pulled his head up by the strands. William bent over, trying to look his boy in the eye.
“Did you say something?” he said. “I hope it was an apology. I hope it was a plea for my mercy because it is only by the grace of God that I am not going to throttle you.”
Thomas’ lips were covered with dirt from the floor. “You lied to me,” he said, spitting out the dirt. “You were not truthful when you told me that you were gathering your commanders to discuss increased border activity. You lied to me and expected me not to react.”
William shook his head. “I did not lie to you,” he said steadily. “I have never lied to you. What I told you was true; wehaveall gathered to discuss increased border activity with the border reivers. We have discussed it. Now it is on to other business.”
It was that other business that had Thomas so enraged. He kept trying to push himself off the floor and dislodge his brothers, but it was impossible.
“Where is the Earl of Northumbria, Edmund de Vauden?” Thomas demanded. “I will tell him to his face what I think about his little scheme!”
Anger had him at least lifting his brothers up, who were starting to laugh because Thomas’ unearthly strength was born of his fury. The younger knights weren’t seeing any humor in it, but Scott and Troy and Patrick were having a difficult time keeping a straight face. Yet, William met his son’s anger calmly.
“It is not Northumbria’s scheme,” he said. “At least, not completely. Thomas, you are acting like an idiot. With all of the recklessness of your youth and your unsavory reputation in TheLevant, I was never ashamed of you, but if you keep this up, I will, indeed, be ashamed of your behavior. You ran off before I could fully explain the situation to you and now I must explain it to you as Scott and Troy are squeezing the breath from you and Atty has his hands in your hair. Is this truly how you want to behave? To have your brothers restrain you so that I may speak to you on the situation?”
Thomas was so angry that he was lifting his brothers up again and again, trying to dislodge them. Seeing this, Blayth moved from his father’s side and straddled Thomas as much as he could, sitting down on the man’s torso to force him down. Thomas went down to stay after that; not even he could dislodge four very large men from his upper body. As he lay there, head turned to one side, William crouched down beside his son so that he could see his face.
