Warwolfe (de Wolfe Pack Book 0)

“I believe you.”

With that, he moved back to the table and pulled out his own coin purse. As his men were vying for control of the pot, he slapped a gold coin right into the middle of it.

“That is for the lady’s win,” he said.

His men looked at him with some astonishment as more coins began to come forth, turning the pile on the table into a significant sum. De Wolfe had upped the ante and his men responded in kind. De Russe, meanwhile, could see what was happening and his brow furrowed as he marched over to the table to see that Gaetan had bet against him.

“You do not think I can subdue her?” he asked Gaetan, incredulous.

Gaetan had to fight off the giggles at the sight of Aramis’ insulted face. “I think you can try.”

Aramis scowled. “You are going to lose your money, de Wolfe.”

Gaetan thought it was quite humorous to toy with Aramis’ pride, which was considerable. “We shall see.”

In a huff, Aramis turned back to Ghislaine, who had set the sword down and had pulled out her dagger. It wasn’t a big dagger and certainly a lot smaller than the sword that Aramis held. He looked at her in disbelief.

“Is that what you intend to use?” he demanded.

Ghislaine nodded. “Aye, my lord.”

Exasperated, Aramis shook his head. “Then you are either the bravest woman alive or the most foolish,” he said, lifting the sword defensively. “Then let us get about this, my lady.”

“Make your move, my lord.”

Aramis couldn’t believe it. Was she actually challenging him? Shaking his head in disbelief, he lifted his sword and headed straight at Ghislaine, who was simply standing there with her dagger in her hand. He took about five steps when she suddenly fell to her knees, well under his range, and latched on to his left leg.

As Aramis faltered because Ghislaine threw him off balance, she wedged herself between his legs and brought the dagger to bear straight up, pointing right into his manhood. Aramis was forced to freeze in position because he could feel the tip of the blade through his trousers. Moreover, she had her free hand braced against his left buttock so if she truly wanted to ram that dagger into his privates, it would give her the leverage to do it.

In less than a few seconds, he was beaten and he knew it. Damnation, he knew it all too well. His sword clattered to the ground and he lifted his hands slowly in surrender.

“I concede, my lady,” he said steadily. “I have yet to have a son, so I would be grateful if that dagger did not go any further.”

It was a swift and clever victory on the part of Ghislaine and, after a moment’s disbelief at what she had done, the table of knights and half of the room erupted in cheers and laughter. Other men had seen what had happened and their laughter joined the knights’.

Still wedged between Aramis’ legs, Ghislaine could hear the revelry but she refused to take her eyes off of Aramis, who was looking down at her with those dark cloudy eyes. She wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t try to grab her or otherwise try to snatch this victory from her if she lowered the dagger, so it remained in place until the corner of Aramis’ mouth began to twitch. When a slow smile spread across his lips and, perhaps, even gave a faint nod of approval, Ghislaine smiled back.

The dagger swiftly came away.

After that, Ghislaine spent the rest of the evening seated between Aramis and Gaetan as the knights drank and told stories of the man they were going to rescue. She didn’t really participate in the conversation, but she was permitted to listen. De Russe even filled her cup with mead. It would seem that besting the man had the effect she had hoped for; now, they weren’t nearly so indifferent to her. Enemy or not, she had proven herself in some small way to the Anges de Guerre. It was a night she would never forget.

Little did she know that while she was enjoying her evening, Gunnora’s majordomo had sent a message, at Gunnora’s request, to Alary, who had been easy to track because of the size of his group and the lone wagon and oxen that was pulling it.

Near dawn, Alary received a missive from a Westerham rider that Lady Ghislaine had arrived at Westerham for the night with an escort of Norman soldiers and Lady Gunnora suggested that Alary wait for her to catch up with him.

Puzzled and panicked, waiting for Ghislaine was the last thing Alary had in mind.





CHAPTER ELEVEN




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Message Received


The Village of Oxshott

Kristoph was healing slowly but his misery lingered.

It was just before dawn on the fourth day after the battle that saw Harold Godwinson lose his life and Kristoph was awake, standing beside the horse that Alary rode because his bound hands were tied to the saddle. Alary wouldn’t permit him to have his own mount, even though his battered body screamed for it, instead making him walk beside him as they traveled. If Alary spurred the horse into a trot, then Kristoph ran beside him and if he happened to stumble, which he did once, then Alary would drag him for as long as he found pleasure in his suffering.

But Kristoph was strong, which probably irked Alary. He never begged for mercy and he hardly said a word about anything, not his pain nor his suffering nor his hunger, which was substantial. He’d hardly been fed since his capture but the previous night, one of Alary’s men had taken pity on him and brought him half a loaf of bread from the inn where Alary was staying, bread that Kristoph had taken gratefully and wolfed down. He had no idea when he’d be fed next and, even now, as the sun began to peek over the eastern horizon on this damp, cold morning, he wasn’t sure when he would eat this day, if he would eat this day. But his strength was returning for the most part and he suspected he’d be able to escape in a day or two.

That was the plan.

Therefore, he didn’t let his depression in the situation get to him. He’d been watching Alary for the better part of four days, analyzing his enemy. The man was petty and suspicious, but he didn’t seem particularly bright. Kristoph was fairly certain he could outsmart him at some point.

As he stood by the horse this chill morning with a few of Alary’s men standing around on guard, he noticed when a rider on a weary horse arrived and began asking questions of some of Alary’s men. Someone pointed to the inn and the man disappeared inside, which led Kristoph to wonder if the rider was looking for Alary in particular. It seemed to him as if the man was looking for someone from the way he was behaving.

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