Page 10 of Wolves’ Witch

“He is riding up front.” Remi scoffed. “He is not even wearing armor. Does he think his God will protect him?”

The Christian God might not smite Faucher’s enemies, but he would protect him in a way. After Ulrik had taken the Archeveque’s head, Lothair would not want any more dead churchmen in his county. That would only draw the attention of Rome. Something he would wish to avoid. So, too, the Langeais wolves.

Servants arrived with their armor, and Aubert shrugged into his gambeson. “He brought the Keep guard?”

Remi shook his head.

“Mercenaries?” Edmond quirked an eyebrow as he slipped his surcoat on over his chain mail then buckled on his sword. “Faucher has been in the county how long? A moon? And he already has a score of mercenaries? I guess being born into the right family does have its benefits.”

“Not mercenaries,” said Remi, shaking his head. “Chevaliers, but their coat of arms is not one I know. It is blue with a white lion.”

Edmond straightened. “House Allard?”

Aubert’s fingers stilled on the buckle of his sword belt. “The comtesse is from House Allard.”

“If Faucher has allied with the comtesse, that changes everything.” Edmond snatched up his greaves. “Gaharet would not want us to start a war with Lothair’s wife.” Edmond turned to Remi. “How far away are they?”

“They are several leagues out,” said Remi. “I pushed my horse to get here before they did.”

Edmond called a servant over. “Go to the stables. Tell them we need three horses and supplies. And send Marceline to prepare the woman for travel.” The servant bowed and darted off. “Remi, you are coming with us. We may have need of you.”

Aubert tucked away his whetstone and slid his dagger back into its sheath. “And Faucher?”

“Lothair did ask us not to kill him, but”—Edmond’s expression hardened—“he is here for the woman, and if he tries to take her from us…” He shrugged. “We could always tell Lothair our blade slipped. That we had mistaken Faucher for someone else.”

Aubert would like nothing better than for his dagger to slip after what he had seen beneath the chapel. Right across Faucher’s throat. There was not much Lothair could do once the man was dead.

A servant helped him strap on his vambraces. “Where do we go?”

“There is the abandoned tanner’s hut in the forest,” suggested Remi. “The roof has collapsed on one side, but I have used it a few times before when I have needed to lie low.”

Edmond shook his head. “No. Too close to Langeais.”

“Godfrey’s estate?” No one would look for them there. And should Godfrey return, he would aid them.

“Would you trust his servants? As we trust ours? I do not.” Edmond strapped on his greaves, then held out his arms for a servant to attach his vambraces. “We head for Constance’s hut. There is no reason to assume Faucher would connect Constance with the healer in the woods the villagers rely on. And he will be too busy searching for us.”

Deep in the forest, the hut would be the perfect place to hide, and they would have access to Constance’s stock of herbs.

His armor on, he raced up the stairs. Glazed eyes in a pale face stared blankly at him as he stepped into the bedchamber.

Marceline helped the woman to her feet and wrapped a cloak around her shoulders. “I must protest, Mon Seigneurs. The woman is in no condition to travel.”

He scooped the woman up and headed for the stairs. “We have no choice.”

“Very well. If you must. But you had best take good care of her.” Marceline followed them down the stairs. “Keep her warm. Do not ride too hard. And keep giving her those herbs.” Marceline halted at the door, brandishing a finger at them. “If anything happens to her, I shall hold you both responsible.”

“Yes, Marceline,” they responded in unison.

“Definitely related to Anne,” muttered Edmond as they strode out into the bailey to Remi and their waiting horses.

Edmond mounted up, calling their steward over. “Our orders have changed. Do not add extra men on the walls,” Edmond instructed. “Make sure everyone goes about their business as usual. When House Allard’s chevaliers arrive, tell them you have not seen us. That we had business in Langeais, and you are not expecting us to return for a sennight. Do not under any circumstances engage or put your lives at risk. Do you understand?”

The steward bowed. “Yes, Mon Seigneur.”

“Raise the portcullis and leave it raised. Let us not give them any reason to think we are expecting trouble.” He held out his arms. “Pass her to me, Aubert.”

For a moment, Aubert’s grip on the woman tightened, then he lifted her and placed her in his brother’s arms. What did it matter who carried her? She was but a woman they had rescued. Someone who had, by chance, come into their care. Nothing more. But as Aubert wheeled his horse around and cantered down the hill toward the gate, his wolf prowled in his mind, and an emotion he had thought to never experience again shifted in his chest.

He shoved it down deep. He was wrong. It could not be.

And if he was not? He shrugged it off. With a score of chevaliers after them, and her condition deteriorating with the passing of every day, it was likely she would not be around long enough for it to be of concern. Why that bothered him so, he refused to delve into further.