Page 35 of Wolfehound (De Wolfe Pack Generations #11)

Folkingham Castle

C assius had never been to Folkingham before. Fortunately, it was fairly easy to find, but getting here had been something of a tribulation.

It had all started the day he was informed of Paris de Norville’s death and the night he’d spent at the tavern where men had told war stories into the wee morning hours.

It had been a night of nights, something he would always remember, but when dawn broke over London and the heavy smoke from morning cooking fires filled the air, he’d struggled past his grief to realize he was faced with a hell of a situation.

The events discussed between Edward and the Archbishop of Canterbury involving Llywelyn ap Gruffudd’s infant daughter and Sempringham Priory was something that wasn’t going to go away.

As morning came, Cassius realized that something very serious was facing the entire House of de Wolfe.

If William had orchestrated a covert operation to fool Edward, or punish him, or whatever the case may have been, then Cassius needed to at least see if there was any truth to it before Tyrus le Mon did.

The fact that Canterbury already had le Mon in motion was a horrific thing, indeed, but Cassius had to discover the truth first.

He had to get to Folkingham.

He wasn’t a spy or an operative, but he was a knight with a good head on his shoulders.

He could figure this out. But the problem was that he was emotionally invested in the situation, whereas le Mon wasn’t.

Emotion could cloud his judgment and he was well aware of that, but the truth was that he didn’t like what had been said about his grandfather.

William de Wolfe had always served the king, faithfully and honorably, but it was no secret that Edward had never treated him the same way Henry had.

Henry of England had been respectful of William, a man who had taken pride in William’s achievements, but Edward had only seen William as competition.

However, Edward had never said a negative word about William in Cassius’ presence and that was by design, because Cassius happened to know that the same restraint didn’t hold true in front of others.

If these rumors were correct and William truly had fooled Edward when it came to Gwenllian of Wales, then Cassius could only imagine how Edward would react.

He could only imagine how that was going to reflect on the entire de Wolfe empire, him included.

Therefore, he had to get to the truth before le Mon did.

It had been a simple thing to request time away from London, to go home and mourn the loss of an important family member.

Edward had been surprisingly understanding about that and encouraged him to take all the time he needed.

Denys de Winter stepped into his role at Edward’s side, so the king had a big, strapping knight beside him even as Cassius departed London and headed to Lincolnshire.

A stop in Peterborough for directions to Folkingham and two days later, he was on its doorstep.

A big, gray structure dominating the landscape around it.

But the moment he arrived, he ran straight into his cousins, Jeremy and Nathaniel de Wolfe.

The Earl of Warenton, Scott de Wolfe, was at Folkingham also.

Talk about coincidences.

More puzzled than ever, Cassius left his horse with a stable servant and had to fight off Jeremy and Nathaniel all the way to the great hall.

They were at the gatehouse when he arrived and all they wanted to do was hug him, or steal his sword, and he had to punch Nathaniel in the chest to keep him from cutting his purse from his belt.

In days and years past, that had been a running joke with most of the de Wolfe male cousins.

They loved one another dearly, but they were always trying to steal from each other or gamble with one another.

The list of foolery went on and on. But Cassius wasn’t in the mood for foolery this time around.

He needed to see his uncle.

Scott, Carlton, and War were in the cold, smoky great hall, sitting at one end of the dais with a pitcher of some manner of drink between them.

It was dim on that end of the hall so Cassius didn’t see Liam until he was halfway to the table.

Scott happened to look up and see Cassius approaching, astonished to see his nephew at Folkingham.

Puzzled, but pleased, he came away from the table and put his arms around his nephew, hugging him tightly.

“Cass,” he said with satisfaction. “My God, lad. What a surprise to see you here. I did not know that you were invited to the wedding also.”

Cassius genuinely loved his Uncle Scott. He smiled in return, letting the man pat his cheek and even pinch it like he used to do when Cassius was young.

“It is a surprise to see you here, too,” he admitted. “But I am not here for a wedding. Who is getting married?”

“Me,” Liam said, grinning at Cassius as he came off the dais and hugged the man so hard that he nearly cracked his ribs. “I know it must come as a shock to you that a young lady would actually consent to marry me, but it is true. I am to be honored with the most beautiful bride in the world.”

Cassius had to rub his chest where Liam had hugged too hard. “Then congratulations are in order,” he said. “I had no idea, Liam. If I am welcome to attend, then I shall, but a wedding is not why I have come.”

“Why did you come?” Scott asked. “Are you passing through on your way back to Berwick?”

Cassius shook his head. “Nay,” he said. His gaze moved from Scott to Liam to War and to Carlton de Royans, a man he’d not seen in many years. “I’ve actually come to speak to Lord de Royans.”

Carlton, who recognized the tall, dark, and handsome son of Patrick de Wolfe, stood up from his seat. “Of course you are welcome here, Cassius,” he said. “I think the last time I saw you was at Castle Questing, many years ago. You were not yet knighted.”

Cassius smiled weakly. “I was just trying to remember when we last met, my lord,” he said. “I hope you have enjoyed good health and prosperity since then.”

Carlton nodded. “Verily,” he said. Then he indicated the table, the benches. “Please, sit. The last I heard, you were serving Edward, were you not?”

It was Scott who answered as they all took their seats again. “As Lord Protector,” he said proudly. “Cassius has assumed a very important post.”

“Impressive,” Carlton said. “Then I am honored to have you at my table. Have you come as a royal messenger, then? I cannot imagine what Edward would ask of me, but I shall do my best to comply.”

Cassius sat down between Liam and Scott. “It is not a royal message I bring,” he said. “My lord, I come with… questions. Involving your family. If you would prefer we discuss this in private, we can retreat to a location of your choosing.”

Carlton’s brow furrowed slightly. “Questions?” he repeated. “From Edward?”

“In a sense.”

Cassius didn’t elaborate, so Carlton simply shrugged his shoulders. “That sounds mysterious,” he said. “And you are sitting amongst men who are trustworthy. I do not mind if they hear the king’s business with me.”

Cassius wasn’t sure he should say anything at all, because what he was about to say would sound, on the surface, like gossip.

He hesitated, looking at his uncle, at Liam, at War across the table, and finally at Carlton, all of them looking at him with interest. But then he looked to Scott and figured that he had better hear this, also, considering he was now the Earl of Warenton. These rumors would concern him.

He fixed on the man for a moment.

“The missive you sent to Edward about Uncle Paris was received,” he said quietly. “Edward was distressed at the news. The Archbishop of Canterbury had a requiem mass said in Uncle Paris’ honor.”

Scott nodded. “That was kind,” he said. “But what does Uncle Paris’ passing have to do with your visit to de Royans?”

Cassius looked around to make sure there wasn’t anyone else within earshot before continuing.

“There is no simple way to put this, so I will come out with it,” he said. “I fear something dark is on the horizon. You’ve not seen a strange knight in Folkingham, have you? No visits of single knights, traveling?”

Carlton shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “No one at all. Now you most definitely have my attention, Cassius. What is this all about?”

Cassius lowered his voice. “The Archbishop of Canterbury heard a confession from another priest who had come from the marches,” he said.

“The priest had come from Colm de Lara, to be exact. But what de Lara told the priest was something so explosive that the man came straight to Canterbury and told him what he’d heard.

Colm did serve with you, did he not, my lord? ”

Carlton looked at Cassius, startled. “He did,” he said. “For many years. Why? What did he say?”

“He said that twenty years ago, in Wales, you were charged with bringing the daughter of Llywelyn ap Gruffudd to Sempringham Priory on the orders of Edward,” Cassius said.

“Colm told the priest that the infant never made it there and that another child was sent in her place, assuming her identity, because the real Gwenllian of Wales has been living under a false identity as your daughter. De Lara further went on to say that my grandfather, William de Wolfe, orchestrated everything. If any of this is true, my lord, you had better tell me.”

Carlton had gone ashen. All of the color left his face as he looked at Scott, who appeared nearly as stricken.

Even War, across the table, appeared shocked to the bone, but that was nothing compared to Liam.

The man looked as if he were about to explode.

His entire body was tense, brittle, as if a mere whisper would break him, but his focus was on Carlton.

“My God,” Liam finally breathed. “He told. That ridiculous bastard actually told!”