Warwolfe (de Wolfe Pack Book 0)

He had to make his move.

Tonight, they were on the outskirts of Warwick, a fairly large town that had seen its share of traffic throughout the evening. Once again, Kristoph was in the livery with his guards and the animals, cushioned by surprisingly fresh hay this night as the sounds of the tavern across the yard filled the air. There was laughter and the smell of meat in the air, and he could even hear what he thought was a citole. Someone was playing and singing.

As he lay back and listened to the sounds that were comforting and friendly in nature, and not reminding him of his dire situation, his friendly guard, Mostig, came out of the back of the tavern with a trencher of food in his hands.

Kristoph saw the man enter the livery and he sat up, eagerly awaiting his only meal of the day. Mostig approached him and delivered the food at his feet. There was a hunk of boiled meat on it and a heaping pile of boiled vegetables, and Kristoph began eating like a man who had never seen food in his life. He shoved it in his mouth, devouring it, as Mostig loosened his chains.

“It is crowded in the tavern tonight,” Mostig said. “There is a great Saxon lord inside, traveling with his daughter. Lord Alary has told him of you and he is interested.”

Mouth full, Kristoph looked at Mostig with curiosity. “Interested? What do you mean?”

“In you.”

“Why?”

“For his daughter from what I heard.”

Kristoph stopped chewing, struggling to swallow what was in his mouth. “For his daughter?” he repeated, puzzled. “I do not understand.”

Mostig shrugged. “The homely girl is not married yet.”

“But… I am already married.”

“That will not make the lord happy.”

Kristoph frowned. “You know I am married,” he said. “We have spoken of my wife and daughter frequently. I cannot and will not marry another woman.”

Mostig wasn’t unsympathetic. He and the Norman knight had been together constantly and they’d formed an odd bond of sorts. Mostig even considered them friends, as strange as that seemed. In a sense, he was concerned for his friend’s safety because he knew Alary. He knew what the man was capable of. A worried expression rippled across his face.

“But the lord offered to pay Lord Alary a great deal for you,” he said. “Lord Alary is considering it. Norman, if you marry her, then you will no longer be subject to Lord Alary and his whims. He can no longer cut your finger off or beat you or harm you. If you are sold, then you must go for your own sake. Get out of here while you can.”

Kristoph couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stopped eating completely and fixed Mostig with a serious glare. “I told Alary my family would pay him well for my safe return but he would not take it,” he said, incredulous. “Yet, he will sell me to a Saxon lord as a husband for the man’s daughter?”

His voice was growing loud and Mostig hastened to quiet him. “Do not speak so loudly or Lord Alary will hear,” he hissed. “If you are sold, it will be the best thing for you. Do you understand? They will more than likely not keep you in irons. You will be… free.”

It was a hint to escape, as clear as the subject had ever been spoken of between them, and Kristoph backed off a little, studying the man and considering his words. Certainly, a husband would not be kept in chains. Kristoph pondered the idea a moment before speaking.

“Mostig, I have not said this to you before, but I will now,” he said. “You are a man without a family… help me escape and I shall see that you are amply rewarded. You could command a fine bride with the money I would reward you with. Does this not appeal to you?”

Mostig’s eyes widened. “I could not do it! Lord Alary would kill me if he discovered what I had done!”

Kristoph could see the fear in the man’s eyes. “You will come with me,” he assured him. “Alary would never see you again. You do not have to worry about such things. The money I could give you would keep you comfortable for the rest of your life, I assure you. Mostig, please – will you not help me?”

Mostig was staring at him with big eyes, perhaps seriously considering the offer. He was torn between his fear of Alary and the lure of a great reward. He scratched his head after a moment, watching Kristopher as the man resumed his meal.

“I… I do not know,” he finally said. “It would be a terrible risk. Lord Alary has allies everywhere in the north. We would have to flee to the south.”

Kristoph finished the last of the meat, chewing loudly. “And we could do that,” he said, trying to sound confident because he was attempting to convince the man to betray his liege. “Once I reach my Norman brethren, you would have nothing to fear. Mayhap, you could even serve me. I have hundreds of men but you would have a place of honor among them.”

Mostig liked that thought a great deal. With Alary, he had no place of honor. He was a soldier, just like all the rest. But what this Norman was promising him was appealing. He was a weak man, in truth, and simply wanted to find someplace where he belonged. Ever since he’d lost his family, that was his only desire. Now, the Norman was offering him such a thing. It was difficult to resist.

“Would… would I live in Normandy?” he asked timidly. “I have never been there, you know.”

Kristoph began to feel some hope. Was it possible he could sway his guard to help him? “You could live wherever you wanted to,” he said. “I intend to have lands here in England, so if you wanted to live here, you could. Or, you could go to my properties in Normandy. It would be your choice.”

Mostig liked what he was hearing and he was quite seriously considering everything he’d been told. Still, he was fearful, mostly of Alary. He’d seen what the man was capable of with traitors and he was genuinely concerned that his attempt to help a prisoner might be discovered. That fear kept him from accepting Kristoph’s offer.

“If I help you, I cannot do it now,” he hissed, hoping the walls around them didn’t have ears. “Lord Alary is discussing you with the Saxon lord right now and if we flee, they would soon catch up to us. We would not have much time to get away.”

Kristoph didn’t agree. “If you do not help me now, there may not be another opportunity,” he said, trying not to sound too forceful because he felt that he was losing the man’s interest in his offer. “If Alary sells me to the Saxon, I will be gone. How are you to help me then?”

He had a point, one that seemed to convince Mostig that the time to act was now. He was quite torn, however, with apprehension in both his expression and movement.

“If I help you, where will we go this night?” he asked. “It is very dark and there is nowhere we can run.”

Kristoph sensed that the man was finally coming around to his way of thinking. Mostig seemed to be good of heart, but he was weak of will. Kristoph sat back against the straw again, thanking God for his friend Mostig. In his plans to escape, he never thought he’d have an accomplice.

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