Warwolfe (de Wolfe Pack Book 0)

Gaetan absorbed the information. “I see,” he said, his mind working quickly. “Mounted cavalry, did you say?”

St. Hèver pulled off a glove so he could scratch his blonde head. “I did,” he said. “I know you wanted to ambush them, Gate, but from what I saw, they have enough to repel us and then some. They could make short work of us if we go at them head-on.”

Gaetan drew in a long, pensive breath and turned away. He had expected an army to have weapons, but what he hadn’t counted on was the mounted warriors. That made the situation a little trickier. Now, his plans had to change in order to accommodate this news and it wasn’t going to be easy. There was little time to plan a new strategy, but that’s exactly what he had to do.

God help him, he had mere minutes to make a new plan to save all their lives.

Gaetan glanced at the men around him, his Anges de Guerre; St. Hèver “The Hammer”, de Russe with his fearsome double-blades, de Reyne with his limitless bravery, and de Moray with his spear. De Winter carried l’Espada, the blessed blade of his Visigoth ancestors, and de Lara fought with an ax that all men feared. He was unbreakable. Finally, there was Téo, his friend and wise counsel, who wielded a morning star that decapitated enemies. These were his comrades, brothers he shared such a tremendously deep bond with, and brothers he knew would stand with him even against insurmountable odds.

This might be one of those times.

But he couldn’t give up, not with Kristoph’s life at stake. Still, Gaetan was starting to wonder if it was worth risking all of these lives so unfairly. These were great men, of great deeds, and he would die first before seeing any of them meet their ends. But hopefully, they wouldn’t have to. His quick, experienced mind had come up with a last-ditch plan.

He could only pray it would work.

“Get into the trees on either side of the road,” he told his men. “And when I say get into the trees, I mean climb into them and take your crossbows with you. Make sure you have a clear field of fire to Alary’s army and make sure the knight across the road from you is not in your line of fire.”

He was moving with a purpose and his men began to follow him. “What do you have in mind, Gate?” Téo asked eagerly.

Gaetan was moving into the foliage, far back where the horses were tethered. He headed to his horse in order to claim his own crossbow. “It is nearing dusk and the darkness will work to our advantage,” he said. “I alone will stand on the road and block Alary’s army with you men in the trees. I will tell Alary to release Kristoph or I will unleash my army, lying in wait in the trees. It will be dark enough that no one will be able to see what lies beyond the tree line, and that will be their downfall. Alary will not know that I only have eight men with me and not a thousand, and it is that fear that will force him into obeying.”

“A bluff?” de Moray said as he pulled his horse in behind the others as they entered into the trees. “A brilliant suggestion, Gate. Alary will not know if you are telling the truth or not.”

Gaetan reached his saddle and began to unstrap his crossbow. “Exactly,” he said. “If we do not have an army with us, then we shall create one. If Alary refuses my demands, then one or more of you place a few well-aimed arrows from the trees to convince him otherwise. Listen to the conversation carefully; if it seems we are going to battle, then take out Alary and his mounted men first. If we remove the head of the beast, then hopefully his men will be directionless and scatter. I will go for Kristoph so cover me as much as you can. Is that clear?”

It was a desperate move they were planning for but there was no other choice. The situation had changed and they would have to change with it or all would be lost. The knights began preparing for the upcoming fight, removing crossbows, arrows, and making sure their broadswords were strapped to their sides. Shields, strapped to the horses, were also removed and brought forth; they would be unusable with the crossbows but if they entered into close-quarter fighting, they would be needed.

The knights were businesslike and methodical in their preparation. There was a sense of anticipation but no sense of fear; this was simply what needed to be done, the moment they had been preparing for on the long journey north. Each man was ready, willing, and able to fight to the death for Kristoph’s freedom. And if Gaetan had been feeling some guilt over risking the lives of many for just one man, he needn’t have worried – to each one of them, this was what needed to be done. A brother needed to be rescued and they were going to fight to the death to do it.

As they finished collecting their gear, more hooves were heard out on the road and St. Hèver rushed to the edge of the tree line to see Wellesbourne approaching. He waved the man into the trees and, together, they headed back to the rest of the men, buried deep in the shielding foliage. Wellesbourne approached and saw the preparations for battle.

“You have seen him,” Wellesbourne said to St. Hèver. “Thank God you came before I did. The army was blocking my path to leave town and I had to rush round the walls to get to my horse. It took valuable time.”

Gaetan, in full armor with his shield slung across his back, faced Wellesbourne. “Where was the army when you left?”

Wellesbourne was winded from his wild ride. “They were just heading to the west side of town,” he said. “They are not moving slowly, as I suspect Alary wishes to make it to Tenebris by nightfall, so their pace is quick. They are more than likely thinking of the warm meal and bed that awaits them at Tenebris and not of any dangers on the road ahead.”

Gaetan nodded as he digested that information. “That is good,” he said, “because we intend to surround him with an army.”

Wellesbourne’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What army?”

Gaetan glanced at St. Hèver. “Explain it to him,” he said. “I must go take my position out on the road.”

Kye nodded. “Aye.”

Gaetan paused before he left, looking at his men once more. Eight of the best knights in the world and he was exceptionally proud of them. He could have very well felt apprehension at this moment but he refused. He could only feel pride, honor, and determination. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

Men of such bravery were surely immortal.

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