Chapter Ten
“What’s amiss, Poppy?” Gar asked as he settled down with a cup of wine at a feasting table that had seen better days. “What things did you hear? And shouldn’t Papa be here, too?”
William was seated beside his grandson, a full cup of wine in hand. “He will return in a moment,” he said. “Meanwhile, your wife is with Matha and is well tended for now. We have business to attend to.”
“Where is Reed? I thought he would be here.”
“I sent him and Linus back to Hell’s Guardhouse,” William said. “With Andreas away, his castle was in need of a couple of strong knights. They were more than happy to go.”
Gar grunted. “Dray will be lucky if Reed relinquishes command.”
“I think Dray can convince him otherwise should it come to it,” William said. “Dray is meaner and bigger and more experienced than Reed. That is why he is needed here, Gar. His sword is worth as much as two junior knights.”
That was true. Andreas was nothing to be trifled with and not even power-hungry Reed could truly stand against him if it came down to it. But the way William declared that Andreas would be needed more at Gleann na Fola had Gar a little worried.
That meant something was in the air.
Gar took a big drink from his cup as he looked around the table at the other knights now gathered.
His Uncle Scott was directly across from him, seated next to his son, Tor.
Next to Tor were Uncle Blayth and Andreas.
As they sat there, waiting for Troy to return, someone else entered the great hall.
The mere sight made Gar grin.
Atreus de Norville came to the top of the stairs, his gaze seeking out the table with the men around it.
Atreus was the son of William’s daughter, Evelyn, and her husband, Hector, who was the son of William’s best friend, Paris de Norville.
Atreus had a younger brother, Hermes, and the two of them were well known in the north.
The stories of their antics, their fighting—against enemies or each other—were positively legendary.
Wilder, braver, and more reckless knights had never existed and Gar was glad to see that one half of the duo was now at his disposal.
He stood up to greet him.
“Atreus,” he said, embracing a man who was quite literally family. “’Tis good to see you, lad. When did you arrive?”
Atreus hugged Gar so hard that he caused the man to grunt as the air was forced from his lungs. “Yesterday,” he said. “What’s this I hear? You have married?”
Gar nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. “I have,” he said. “A de Reyne daughter. She has come home with me, in fact.”
Atreus frowned. “To this place?” he said, looking around at the dirt and dogs. “She must be positively thrilled to have such a steaming pile of dung as her domain. Do not be surprised if she runs away.”
Gar grinned. “She will not,” he said. “We have made a pact. She cannot run away and I cannot throw her out, so she will be forced to become accustomed to my magnificent garrison. Speaking of wives, did you bring yours?”
Atreus nodded. “Mariane and our son have come with me,” he said. “You’ve not seen Perseus yet, Gar. A finer son has never lived.”
Gar sat back down at the table, taking Atreus with him. “I believe you,” he said. “Your grandfather must be thrilled.”
Atreus snorted. “Paris de Norville never quite got over the fact that he does not have as many sons and grandsons as Uncle William,” he said. “He tells me I must have ten sons now to try to even the numbers.”
Gar laughed softly. “You’ll never catch up,” he said. “I intend to have ten sons of my own.”
“Does your new wife know this?”
“Absolutely not,” Gar said flatly. “And you’ll not tell her.”
Atreus started to laugh, hearing a comment against his ability to produce sons from Andreas across the table, and a good-natured verbal battle ensued.
Gar was glad to be with his friends and family, but as he listened to Atreus and Andreas spar, his thoughts drifted in the direction of that lovely young woman he’d married.
He still couldn’t believe it.
It was odd. Odd in the sense that when he was at Hensingham, it was as if he were on another planet.
It was a different world at that castle along the sea and he and Mattie had enjoyed having time together as if nothing else in the world existed.
As if there were no raging Scots, no heavy command burdens, or anything else that might weigh upon him.
All was Mattie and Mattie was all, and Gar was satisfied with that.
He’d come to know a woman who almost seemed too good to be true.
She was kind and attentive, and seemed genuinely interested in the things he wanted to talk about.
Frankly, he never knew he had it in him to be so enamored with someone else. He’d never believed himself capable.
But he was.
Still, it was coming to feel like a dream even though he was back at his garrison and surrounded by his friends and family. It was another normal day in a year that had been full of such normal days, with one slight difference:
Mattie.
This was his world now and she was in it.
“Atreus,” William said, cutting into the conversation at the table. “Dray, both of you quiet down. We have much to discuss now that Gar has returned.”
Distracted from thoughts of Mattie, Gar took another sip of his wine. “Should we continue to wait for Papa?”
William shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Let us go forth with the subject at hand. Blayth has some information he came across while you were away.”
Attention turned to Blayth, one of only two fair de Wolfe sons, having taken after their mother’s coloring.
But over the years, the dark blond hair had turned to gray.
It was almost completely white these days, cropped short so that the scars on the left side of his head, horrible battle scars, were quite visible.
He was the commander of Roxburgh Castle, an extremely volatile castle that tended to go back and forth between the Scots and the English, although under Blayth’s command, it had remained a de Wolfe property for several years.
Still, it was quite busy, as was the village around it, and sometimes Blayth heard rumors and intelligence that those at the lesser border garrisons didn’t have a chance to hear.
As Gar focused on his uncle, Blayth’s green eyes turned to him.
“We had a visitor into Roxburgh earlier in the week,” he said.
Due to his head injury those years ago, he had a slow and deliberate way of speaking.
“One of my mother’s kin, from Clan Scott, came to tell me that he’d heard rumor that Maxwell of Westerkirk is trying to rally support behind them for another attack on Gleann na Fola. ”
Gar grunted. “That is not surprising,” he said. “I am expecting something from them. It is only a matter of time.”
“You know that Ean Maxwell is now clan chief,” Blayth said. “His father was more moderate, but Ean does not have any such restraint.”
“I know,” Gar said. “Arduil was far easier to deal with. Never any trouble. But Ean has always been a bully of a lad. He has always tried to stir up trouble.”
“More than you know,” Blayth said. “He is spreading the rumor that you are holding his young daughter hostage here. He is hoping the outrage of a de Wolfe holding a child captive will motivate the clans into supporting him.”
Gar’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s what you were told?”
Blayth nodded. “That’s what Clan Scott was told to try to convince them to support a Maxwell attack against Gleann na Fola,” he said.
“They’re using the fact that we sent their women and children south to give validity to the lie, but I’m told that some of the clans who do not really know the House of de Wolfe, or who have trouble with us, are considering it. ”
That was ominous news. Gar and his men could stave off the Maxwell of Westerkirk easily, but if more clans got involved, that might prove to be difficult. As Gar pondered that, he shook his head in frustration.
“So Ean lies to convince other clans to join him,” he said. “The man was punished for the outright murder of two English knights and now he is claiming to be a victim?”
“This stopped being about those two knights from The Keld long ago,” Scott spoke up, low and quiet.
He had inherited his father’s wisdom and was a man to be heeded.
“Now, this about Ean’s pride. It has turned into far more than paying for his actions.
He’s out to prove a point, to stir hatred against the English.
If he can rally more clans, we may very well have a border war and that is the last thing we need. ”
“That is true,” William said. The great Wolfe of the Border was the final word in all things when it came to the borders of Scotland.
“Gar, I’ve taken the liberty of sending word to The Keld about this.
They started this battle by requesting our assistance in punishing Westerkirk for the deaths of their knights, so I have requested they send at least a thousand men to support Gleann na Fola.
If Westerkirk manages to rally support, you will need all of the help you can get. ”
Gar looked at his grandfather, so wise and so adored. They were quite fortunate to still have his counsel at his age and Gar knew it. He had a living legend at his disposal.
“Their last defeat was complete,” Gar said. “Or so I thought. But no matter—we will be ready for whatever they intend.”
Scott and Blayth looked to William because they’d discussed this very subject earlier, just the three of them.
They were the senior battle commanders and while men like Gar and Andreas and Tor were very skilled, they didn’t have the years that the older men had.
Older men who had seen, time and time again, how badly these battles could go.
Sensing the probing gazes of his sons, William looked at Gar.