Page 39 of Wolfehound (De Wolfe Pack Generations #11)

“W hat a coincidence that I should find not only Lord de Royans here, but the Earl of Warenton and the legendary commander of Bamburgh Castle, Lord Herringthorpe.”

The words came from a handsome, well-dressed man who looked like any other noble knight.

But he wasn’t. Carlton, War, and Scott were in the hall as Tyrus le Mon introduced himself.

For a man with such a terrible reputation, having been drummed out of the Executioner Knights, one would have expected him to appear with horns and cloven hooves, but he didn’t. He appeared quite proper and normal.

That threw Carlton, War, and Scott off guard.

“You know me?” Scott said, peering at the man. “That is strange. I do not believe I know you.”

“Forgive me, my lord,” Tyrus said. “When I came through the gatehouse, I saw the Warenton banners. I also saw royal standards flying alongside Herringthorpe, so I knew who was here. Quite an occasion, I must say.”

“What do you mean?”

“One of your gate guards told me that you were here for a wedding.”

It was difficult for the men not to react to that. The very thing they didn’t want him to know had already been divulged by a loose-lipped gatehouse sentry who didn’t know any better. It wasn’t as if they had been hiding the wedding.

“And so there shall be,” Carlton said stiffly. “Since I do not know you, tell me your business. Or are you simply looking for lodgings for the night?”

“I am not seeking lodgings, my lord, though they would be appreciated if you can spare the space,” Tyrus said. “I have come on other business and am hoping you can give me a few moments of your time to discuss it. If not now, then I can wait.”

“What do you want to discuss?” Carlton asked.

“I come on behalf of the Archbishop of Canterbury.”

“That does not tell me what you want to discuss,” Carlton said. “What does the Archbishop of Canterbury want with me?”

“He is hoping that you can clarify a mystery that has come to his attention,” Tyrus said. “And also to the attention of the king.”

Carlton grunted. “That sounds strange,” he said. “But I do not understand why you’ve come here. You do understand that we are quite busy. Your visit is unsolicited.”

“I realize that, my lord,” Tyrus said. “As I said, I can wait until such a time as you are ready to answer a few questions.”

I can wait . That probably meant he had all the time in the world and Carlton wouldn’t be able to dodge him indefinitely. Also, he wanted the man out of Folkingham and away from his daughter.

Better to face this now rather than later, but Carlton was prepared.

He had to be because if he didn’t keep his composure, the entire situation fell apart.

He had been in the hall with Scott and War and Cassius, waiting for Liam to return to them, when both of Scott’s younger sons had appeared to tell them that a knight by the name of le Mon had just ridden in through the gates and was asking to speak with Carlton.

That had set off a storm of activity.

Though they’d known le Mon would probably be coming to Folkingham, no one had expected his arrival immediately.

Maybe in a day or a week or even a month, but not now.

Yet here he was, and the gatehouse guards had let him through, so he was inside the castle walls.

Greatly concerned with being seen by a man who would know him on sight, Cassius fled, but Scott had grabbed both young men and told one of them to fetch Liam while he told the other one to spread the word not to speak of the wedding from this moment on, not to anyone.

Unfortunately, the second edict had evidently been too late.

Le Mon already knew.

Now, they could only do their best with this, guarding the secret they’d been protecting for almost twenty years.

Carlton was honestly thinking of simply killing le Mon because if the man was dead, he couldn’t report back to Canterbury and they could say that he’d left Folkingham and they never saw him again.

Men were killed on the road all the time.

The only thing holding Carlton back was the fact that le Mon had been an Executioner Knight, and those were no ordinary knights.

He was fearful that the man would dispatch him, if attacked, and then try to carve through Scott and War, which would prove more difficult.

In any case, Carlton fought down thoughts of murder.

He had a man to get rid of.

“Speak, then,” Carlton said after a moment. “I am not sure I can clarify anything, but I will try. What is it?”

Le Mon, who was still standing, indicated the nearest bench, which was at the opposite end of the table. “May I sit, my lord?” he said. “It has been a long day already.”

Carlton nodded, watching the man remove his broadsword and place it on the tabletop before sitting wearily on the bench. When he was comfortable, he continued.

“May I ask if all of you were involved in the wars in Wales about twenty years ago?” he said, looking at the men around the table.

“Specifically, the capture of Dafydd ap Gruffudd and the death of his brother, Llywelyn. I know the House of de Wolfe was involved, but I would like to know if all of you were there.”

“Not me,” War said, shaking his head. “We were having trouble with the Scots at the time, so I remained at Bamburgh, reinforcing the border.”

“I was there and so was Carlton,” Scott said evenly. “My father was also there. I assume you know who he is.”

Tyrus nodded. “How could I not?” he said. “Everyone knows the great William de Wolfe.”

Scott nodded back. “Indeed,” he said. “My father was in command of several battles in the Welsh campaign. Why do you ask?”

Tyrus fixed on him. “Because the archbishop has learned of a rumor involving your father, Lord de Royans, and Llywelyn ap Gruffudd’s infant daughter, Gwenllian,” he said. “Edward ordered the infant to be taken to Sempringham Priory, as a royal hostage, but it seems that she did not make it there.”

No one said anything right away until Scott finally shrugged. “Have you gone to the priory to confirm this?” he asked.

Tyrus nodded. “I did, my lord,” he said. “Based on the physical description I was given of the princess, the woman who bears her name and has been told she is Gwenllian is, in fact, not the princess. I would stake my reputation on it.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think so?”

Tyrus looked at the three men at the table, clearly thinking that they were either being defensive or that they really didn’t know anything. His expression said everything.

“Because the mystery of the princess’s whereabouts was relayed by someone who knew her,” he said, lowering his voice.

“We are told that she has black hair and blue eyes, and the woman I saw at Sempringham has hair of an indistinct brown and eyes that are not blue. She was also old enough to be speaking when she was brought to Sempringham, and we know that the Welsh princess was not quite a year old when taken from Wales. Too young to be speaking. Consequently, there are many things that do not make sense and I am trying to clarify them for the archbishop, who is concerned for the princess’s safety.

She is a woman of the English royal family as well as Welsh royal bloodlines.

We are greatly concerned that she has come to harm, so my question to you, Lord de Royans, is this—do you have a daughter? ”

That was a question Carlton couldn’t lie about. Everyone at Folkingham knew he had a daughter. That was established. But his palms were starting to sweat as he faced down the man at the other end of the table.

“I do,” he said. “Bria is her name.”

“Was she born of your wife? And are you her father?”

“That is an insulting question,” War growled. “Be careful how you address a man when it comes to his children.”

Tyrus looked at him. “It was not meant to be offensive, my lord,” he said. “It is a simple question. Either his wife gave birth to his daughter or she did not. Mayhap the child is adopted.”

War glanced at Carlton, wondering how in the hell the man was going to face this line of questioning, and Scott couldn’t even look at him. His focus remained on Tyrus, unmoving, unwavering.

Like a wolf staring down its prey.

It was time to take charge.

“Le Mon, if you have something to say, then come out with it,” Scott said.

“This is not a tribunal. We do not have to answer your questions, nor do we have the time. De Royans does not have to discuss his family with you, in any way. If there is something on your mind, then say it and let us be done with this foolishness. We are too busy for whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish, so get on with it. ”

He was pushing le Mon, but that was by design. The man was trying to eke out answers by cornering Carlton with his questions. The hope was that Carlton would say something that would give the entire situation away if, in fact, there was anything to give away.

But Scott wasn’t going to let him.

Sensing that his tactics weren’t working, Tyrus focused on Scott.

“My apologies,” he said. “As I said, I was not attempting to be offensive, merely direct. The point of my questions is this—we were told by a priest who took the confession of a dying knight, a knight who served under your father and Lord de Royans during the final battle against Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, that your father, the Earl of Warenton, disobeyed Edward’s orders and did not deliver Llywelyn’s daughter to Sempringham Priory as commanded.

Instead, he gave the child over to Lord de Royans to raise as his own while sending a decoy to Sempringham.

Since I have been to Sempringham and interviewed the woman in question, I have come to the conclusion that she is not Gwenllian of Wales.

That means I would like to see Lord de Royans’ daughter. The archbishop demands it.”