CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Five Weeks Later
“If you teach the pup to sit down and give him a reward, he will learn much faster,” Scott said. “That is a smart dog. I believe you can train it to behave properly.”
Stephen wasn’t so sure. In the sunny bailey of Canaan on a brilliant spring morning, the weather was turning warmer as summer approached. Wolfe the Puppy was growing into a very big dog with big paws. The friendly dog loved everyone it came across. The dog was desperate to be petted and loved, and more than once had ended up on Scott’s lap when he was trying to sit down and eat a meal. But it was part of the family, so much so that Scott permitted the dog to attend his wedding to Avrielle.
Scott smiled to himself as he thought of that day, nearly four weeks ago, right after the battle for Canaan against Lord Sadgill. The wedding had taken place after Jeremy’s burial at St. Michael’s Church in the village of Shap, the same church where Nathaniel du Rennic and many of his ancestors had been buried. The old Norman church with the thick Norman columns had seen a good deal of life and death over the years, and Avrielle was determined to be married at the church so both her brother and Nathaniel, in a sense, could be witness. Scott didn’t contest her; he was pleased to have the spirits of his friends included as well.
He knew he had their blessing.
It had, therefore, been both a somber and a happy occasion, something that some would have been odd to observers. But considering the circumstances, neither Avrielle nor Scott thought it odd in the least. Theirs had been an unconventional courtship, anyway. Nothing had been the norm with them.
Even Gordon was touched by their desire to have their wedding near Jeremy’s freshly-closed crypt, as painful as it had been for him to bury a son, but he was comforted to be gaining another one in Scott de Wolfe. In all, he felt it was a joyous occasion of life moving forward, of a son who, at the end of his life, had redeemed himself, and of his daughter finding a husband who was clearly in love with both her and her children.
For Gordon, life had come full circle as it was meant to be.
But in spite of the happiness around him, Scott was still a man with some inner turmoil. Ever since Jeremy’s death, Scott had been talking about going to Lioncross Abbey Castle in Herefordshire to visit his eldest sons. He’d made that promise to Jeremy and he was eager to keep it, eager to apologize for the rift he’d caused and hoping his sons would be understanding. He feared that at their youthful ages, they might not be, but it was a chance he was willing to take. He’d known how foolish he’d been since Athena’s death and, if it took the rest of his life, he was going to try his hardest to make amends.
And those efforts also included his father.
William de Wolfe was heavy on Scott’s mind these days. He’d had a few long talks with Gordon about his father, late at night and over a pitcher of wine. Gordon was convinced that William would welcome Scott back with open arms. So was Stewart, who reminded Scott of the message he’d relayed from William.
You are his firstborn and no matter where you go, or what you do, he will wait every day for your return. You are his son, my lord, and there are no words to describe the pride he has in you. He says to tell you that he will wait for you no matter how long it takes.
The message gave Scott hope that all would be well with him and his father again, someday soon.
Now, five weeks after Sadgill’s destruction, Canaan was peaceful and serene once again, and those within her were living in harmony, including Scott for the most part. He and Avrielle were blissfully happy in their marriage, with the grief they had both suffered through for their respective spouses nothing more than a bittersweet memory. The only thing that gave Scott a moment of pause these days, or perhaps a moment of melancholy, was the trip he’d planned to Lioncross Abbey because he was loath to leave his wife behind, who could not take the infant on such a long journey. Avrielle had encouraged Scott to go without her because she believed this was a trip he needed to make alone, to focus on his sons and nothing else. He knew she was right.
But he still hated to leave her.
“Look!” Stephen suddenly cried. “Look at Wolfe!”
Scott shook himself from his reflections, focusing on the dog that was now sitting politely in front of Stephen. He grinned.
“He is being a good dog,” he told the boy. “Now you must reward Wolfe. Where is the meat I gave you?”
Stephen pointed to the dog. “I gave it to him.”
Scott lifted his eyebrows. “All of it?”
The boy nodded. Shaking his head with the humor of it, for he’d given the boy a good chunk of beef to use as rewards to train the pup, Scott pointed in the direction of the kitchens. “Go,” he said. “Get the pup more meat. But do not give it to Wolfe all at once. Give the pup small pieces only when it deserves a reward.”
Flashing him a toothy grin, Stephen ran off and the dog chased after him. Scott chuckled as he watched them go, thinking it was time for him to check the posts. He had duties to attend to but he’d been playing with Stephen and Wolfe all morning. Finally, he was taking some time in his life to simply enjoy it. As he headed off towards the southern gatehouse, he could see Milo heading towards him. In fact, Milo was trying to gain his attention.
“My lord,” he called out. “Word from Ravenstone!”
That had Scott’s immediate interested. “From Stu?”
“Aye,” Milo said as they came together near the gatehouse. “A messenger just arrived to announce the birth of a third son for Sir Stewart Longbow and his wife, Lady Susannah. Mother and child weathered the birth well. Stu says to tell you that they have named the child Scott.”
A smile spread across Scott’s face. “I am deeply honored,” he said. “Send the messenger back with my congratulations and tell him that his son had better be handsome. I want no homely baby named for me.”
Milo laughed as he turned for the gatehouse. “I will make sure the messenger does not tell him in front of his wife. She might not appreciate the humor of that statement.”
Scott waved him off, grinning as he thought on Stewart’s reaction to that jab. As promised, he’d sent Stewart back to Ravenstone Castle shortly after the Sadgill defeat and Stewart had taken about five hundred men and Jean-Pierre with him, leaving Milo, Raymond, and Stanley with Scott. Until the situation in Cumbria was fully settled, and because there were rumblings of Cumbrian lords unhappy with what happened to Sadgill, Scott planned to keep most of his army and knights with him for the foreseeable future.
In truth, he wasn’t particularly worried, but it paid to be vigilant. He was just about to take the stairs to the battlements when he heard the cry from the sentries going up, announcing incoming riders. That wasn’t unusual, for there always seemed to be someone going in and out of Canaan, especially because they were on the road leading from Carlisle to Kendal, so Scott didn’t give it a thought. If it was anything important, Milo would find him.
On his rounds, he got involved in a task in one of the former guard chambers that had been converted into an armory. Gordon was there, working with a smithy from Shap who had come to help repair some of the weapons from the Sadgill battle, and they paused in their duties to show Scott what they were working on. Stronger steel, better weapons. Scott was pleased.
Gordon was also in the process of designing another one of his ballistas, only this one would be a unit that could be broken down and quickly reassembled. Using small pieces of wood, he showed Scott what he meant because he felt a ballista that could be broken down would be far more feasible in battle than a big siege engine that had to be constantly moved by a ten-horse team. Scott liked the idea so much he became involved in Gordon’s scheme, making suggestions, until Milo entered the armory.
“My lord,” he said to Scott. “You have a visitor.”
Scott, trying to build a ballista model with Gordon, glanced at him. “Who is it?”
“I am not at liberty to give you that information,” Milo said. “I have been instructed to tell you to come to the hall immediately.”
Scott paused in his building and frowned. “Who is it, Milo?”
Milo shook his head. “My orders come from a higher source than you.”
Now he was perturbed. Handing the wood back to Gordon, Scott moved past Milo, giving the man an unhappy look as he did.
“There is no higher source than me,” he muttered.
Milo followed him as they took the stairs to the ground level. “My apologies, my lord, but in this case, there is.”
Scott came off the stairs, passing through the solar, which was linked to the hall by a narrow passage. “Did my wife send you to fetch me?” he asked. “What is she up to?”
Milo simply shook his head, which both frustrated and intrigued Scott. Marching through the solar and on into the hall, he fully expected to see Avrielle standing there, but his wife was nowhere to be found. There were, however, three big men being offered wine by a servant. They had their backs to him so Scott couldn’t see their faces until one of them turned slightly and he saw the profile.
It was his father.
Scott’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of William de Wolfe. In fact, he must have gasped or otherwise made a noise because William turned to look at him, startled, as did the other two men with him. Scott only had eyes for his father at first. But, inevitably, he looked to the other men, who weren’t really men at all as much as they were young men who looked a good deal like him.
William and Thomas de Wolfe had come, too.
Scott’s eyes widened at the sight of his sons and he clapped a hand over his mouth in utter astonishment. Beyond that, he wasn’t much capable of thinking clearly and he suddenly reached out, grabbing the face of the nearest young man, which happened to be young William, his eldest. The lad had grown by leaps and bounds and was now taller than his father, a soaring example of the de Wolfe lineage he so proudly bore.
“My God,” Scott rasped. “Will. Is it really you? And Tommy… Sweet Christ…”
He reached out to touch Thomas’ face, too, who had grown out of his awkward youth and now stood taller than his older brother, looking very much like his grandfather, Paris. The boys gazed back at their father with a mixture of apprehension, hope, and joy.
“It is us, Papa,” William said, his voice deep and steady. He glanced at his grandfather, hesitantly. “Grandfather said we needed to come. He said it was important. I am sorry if you are displeased to see us, but…”
Scott cut him off, tears streaming down his face at the sound of his eldest’s voice as a young, mature man. It was like music to his ears. He kissed the boy on the cheek, hugging him, as he pulled Thomas into the same embrace.
It was the best embrace of his life.
“Forgive me,” he whispered, trying not to weep openly. “Forgive me for running away when you needed me the most. Forgive me for being so selfish in my grief over your mother’s death. I know now I should not have run, but I was so afraid… I do not know of what. Of losing myself, of being overwhelmed with pain. All I know is that I should not have run from you and you can never know how sorry I am. Please, please forgive me.”
The boys fell into his arms, embracing him as they realized their father was pleased to see them. It was a reunion as they never imagined it would be – one of acceptance and delight. No anger, no gruffness. Simply joy. In fact, the very air around them was filled with the love and adoration of father to son, of son to father, something as timeless and beautiful as the world itself.
“We forgive you, Papa,” young William said, his voice cracking. “We love you. We only wanted you to know that we love you. That is why we came. We hoped you would speak to us.”
Scott was truly devastated by that statement, wiping at his face and kissing Thomas on the cheek. “I cannot begin to make up for those years we lost, but I swear to you that I will try,” he said. “A man lost in grief is not himself. I let that grief become who I was. It has taken time for me to realize that. I will never leave you again, I swear it. I am your father and there are no words to describe the pride and love I have for you. Please believe me. I shall never fail you again, not ever.”
William and Thomas were in tears themselves, but they were happy tears. Tears of young men who had been found again by the man they loved best in the world. Scott couldn’t seem to stop touching their faces, looking at his boys who had become such strong young men. He ran his hand through Thomas’ thick reddish-blonde hair.
“You look like a de Norville,” he said, laughing through his tears. “You have your Grandfather Paris’ face. How handsome you have become.”
Thomas grinned, looking very much like his grandfather in that gesture. “Grandfather Paris says I did not inherit the de Wolfe darkness.”
Scott laughed again. “Nay, you did not,” he said, his gaze suddenly moving to his father. “Nor did I. But I am a proud de Wolfe son just the same.”
William de Wolfe had tears in his eye as he looked at his eldest son. He couldn’t even speak. When their eyes met, his features threatened to crumble and Scott went to him, throwing his arms around the man and pulling him close. No words were needed between them because there was no greater satisfaction in the world than the embrace of a father and son. The emotions filling the room were palpable and Scott took a moment to simply savor them.
“Papa, I love you,” Scott whispered in his ear. “No matter where I go, or what I do, I will always return to you. I am sorry it has taken me so long to come to my senses. Please forgive me for being so foolish.”
William clung to him. “You are my firstborn,” he said hoarsely. “You are my pride and you are my joy, Scott. I knew you would come home someday when you were ready. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy and I knew that when you found your happiness again, you would be ready to return to me. Something in you had to heal before that could happen and I understood that.”
Scott released the man from his embrace, but he kept both arms around his father as he looked William in the eye. His father was older, his dark hair had hints of silver in it and his face was a bit more weathered. But to Scott, it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. This was his father, his hero, the man he loved most in all the world. He smiled at him, teary-eyed.
“Do you know that I was planning on going to Lioncross Abbey to see Will and Tommy?” he asked. “And then I was going to go to Castle Questing to see you, too. There is so much to tell, Papa, I do not even know where to start.”
“Start by telling me about your new wife.”
Scott cocked his head curiously. “How could you know that?”
William wiped the tears from his one good eye. “Because I was in London when Edward received the missive that you had married again,” he said. “Edward sends his congratulations, by the way.”
Scott was surprised by the news. “He was not angry with me?”
William shook his head. “Not really,” he said. “Although there is evidently a Scottish lord somewhere who is demanding another English bride from him. Edward is trying to make an alliance with the Black Douglas, but that is a story for another time. Suffice it to say that he is pleased a de Wolfe is in charge of the Bretherdale Pass and of Castle Canaan. When I heard of your marriage, I knew you would not marry for convenience. You are not the kind. I therefore assumed it was for love and went to Lioncross Abbey to bring Will and Tommy here so they could congratulate you on your marriage and meet your new wife. I am rather curious about her, too.”
It was a concise explanation of his appearance and one that made perfect sense. With his arm still around William, Scott pulled his father and his sons towards one of the feasting tables.
“Please, sit,” he told them. “There is so much to tell about her, not the least of which is the fact that she is a magnificent woman. You will love her, Papa.”
William was handed his cup of wine by Thomas. “I have no doubt,” he said. “If she has been the one to help heal your grief, then she has my undying gratitude.”
Scott poured his own cup of wine from the pitcher the servant had left on the table. “It is more than that,” he said. “She understands me and I understand her. We have both suffered similar losses. And when I first met her, I began to realize that I was not alone in my grief. There was someone else who understood my sorrows. But my entire experience at Canaan has been one that has helped me to understand my selfishness. It has been… life changing.”
William smiled faintly at his son. “I can see that,” he said. “That is what I was hoping to hear. Are you truly happy, lad?”
Scott nodded fervently. “More than I knew I ever could be.”
“Then I am at peace.”
Scott looked around the table; his father, his sons. The men that were the most important figures in his life. Now that the shock and tears of their reunion was over, he felt as if he could talk and talk for days and still not tell them everything he wanted to. But somewhere in the past four years, his family had changed. They’d gotten older and life, for them, had moved on. Especially his boys; they had grown up while he was away. Reaching out, he clasped his eldest son’s hand tightly.
“I cannot begin to tell you how glad I am to see you,” he said. “I feel as if I am living a dream at this moment because you are older now and I feel as if I can be honest with you about the past few years. Those years… there was such darkness. I cannot describe the darkness because, unless you experience it, you cannot know it. All I know now is that I will never exist in such darkness again. I had to learn that I was stronger than the guilt and pain that consumed me. I had to learn what I was made of.”
William was listening closely as Scott spoke to his sons, empathizing what his son had gone through. When the young men didn’t seem to know how to respond, perhaps afraid to respond, William spoke quietly.
“I cannot fully know what you experienced, for I still have my wife,” he said. “All I can do is try to imagine, if I had lost her, the depths of your despair, but we must all grieve in our own way. Your way was to shut everything out. We understood that.”
Scott was feeling guilty because his father and his sons were being so understanding. “Did you never think to hate me for it?”
A flicker of a knowing smile crossed William’s lips. He looked over at Will and Tommy. “Could you hate either one of your sons if he had run away to deal with grief in his own way?”
Scott glanced at his boys as well. “Nay,” he admitted. “Never.”
“Neither could I.”
Scott pondered that grace; a father’s unconditional love for a wayward son. “How is Troy?” he asked.
“He is well. He misses you.”
“I miss him. Has he remarried?”
William grinned. “There is quite a story behind that,” he said. “Will you introduce me to your wife first before I tell you of your brother and his wild adventures?”
Scott could see humor in his father’s eye when it came to his twin. “He did marry, then?”
“He did.”
“Who?”
“A Scots lass that terrorizes him.”
Scott burst out laughing. “Then there is a God,” he exclaimed, watching his father and sons laugh. He reveled in the moment, in the laughter, something he had always hoped to experience again but wasn’t sure he would. “I will summon my wife now. I am anxious for you to meet her. And, so you know, she does not terrorize me.”
He stood up with the intention of going to fetch Avrielle when a big, black puppy suddenly ran into the hall followed by a young boy with a wad of meat in his hand. The dog ran under one of the feasting tables, barking, and Stephen ran straight to Scott.
“Wolfe will not listen to me!” he exclaimed. He held up the meat. “The dog does not want it!”
Scott had to grin at the boy, genuinely distressed with his disobedient dog. “Here, now,” he said, putting a hand on his shoulder and turning him towards the table where his father and sons were. “We will discuss the dog later. I want you to meet some people who will become very important to you.”
Stephen didn’t quite understand what he meant. But he could see three men sitting at the table. Before Scott could introduce them, Stephen looked right at William.
“You have something over your eye,” he said, putting a hand over his own eye to mimic William’s eyepatch. “What is that?”
William grinned at the curious child. “I lost my eye in battle many years ago,” he said. “That is to cover the hole.”
Stephen was both intrigued and frightened by a hole in the face. “You have hole?” he gasped. “Can I see it?”
As William laughed, Scott spoke. “This nosy young man is Stephen du Rennic, my wife’s son,” he said. “Stephen has a dog he is trying to train and you will never meet a more curious or bright little boy. Stephen, these two young men are my sons, William and Thomas. They are your brothers now.”
Stephen was wildly curious about new brothers. He plopped the wad of meat on the table and went straight to young William. “Are you a knight?” he asked.
Young William shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “But soon.”
Stephen puffed up. “I am going to be a knight,” he said. “Will you fight me?”
Young William laughed, looking at his father for a suggestion on how to answer. “I suppose I could,” he said when Scott shrugged at him. “Where shall we fight?”
Stephen reached out and grasped William’s hand with his dirty hand, the one that had been holding the meat. “I have men and weapons and war machines,” he said, tugging on the young man so that he had no choice but to stand up. “You can build your fortress and I will knock it down. You come, too!”
He was talking to Thomas, who looked at his father for direction on what to do. But, again, Scott simply shrugged. “His grandfather is a marvel with building things,” he said. “He has more toys to play with than any child I have ever seen, but do not be fooled – his father has schooled him well on how to lay siege to a fortress so if you are not careful, he will defeat you.”
Young William looked at the boy who was pulling on his hand. “Surely he cannot defeat me,” he declared.
Scott snorted. “Many a man has made that same assumption, including me,” he said. But he reached out to stop Stephen from pulling young Williams’ arm off. “Stephen, you can come to know Will and Tommy later. If you ask them politely, I am sure they will play with you. Right now, please go and find your mother. Tell her to come to me in the hall right away.”
Stephen was a surprisingly obedient child. He dropped young William’s hand and promptly scurried out of the hall, heading for the stairs that would take him to the level above. As he ran out and the dog bolted after him, William turned to Scott.
“He seems like a fine boy,” he said.
Scott nodded. “He is,” he said. “He was very close to his father and is, therefore, fearless when it comes to summoning grown men to play his war games with him. My wife also has two daughters, including a newborn.”
William watched his son’s face when he spoke of his new wife; there was a softness there he hadn’t seen in a very long time. God, but it did his heart good to see it. Reaching out, he put his hand on Scott’s face.
“A new son and two new daughters,” he said. “It seems to me that mayhap God has decided you have suffered enough. He has brought back to you the children you lost as well as a new wife.”
Scott nodded as the mood turned softer, perhaps more emotional again. It felt like times of old, when he was free to laugh and free to feel, before the dark days following Athena’s death. Gregarious. That was how William de Wolfe had always described his eldest son and, for the first time in four years, Scott was certain he could be that man again. Gregarious – compassionate – and at peace with his life.
At peace with a good woman to love, and to be loved.
“God has been good, Papa,” he agreed softly. “I am back now. I swear I will never leave you again.”
William believed him. When he finally met Avrielle a short time later, who was very surprised to see Scott’s father, he believed it even more. Instantly, he could see why Scott was so smitten with her. She was beautiful, well-spoken, and gracious, and she was extremely kind to young William and Thomas. The boys responded to her politely and with interest. William could already see that the relationship between them was going to be a good one. He just had that feeling.
But he was far more interested in his observations of the behavior between Scott and Avrielle. It didn’t take long for him to see how deeply in love his son was with the woman. There was something between them, an indefinable something, that was rare between two people. It was love, aye, but there was something more to it – a glow about them, perhaps. A glow that made their love for one another obvious, something as pure as it was powerful.
William knew that kind of love because he had it with his own wife, Jordan, for over forty years. He was well-acquainted with a love so strong that it could move mountains.
Or heal hearts.
Definitely, Scott’s heart had been healed, made even stronger by the love of a good woman. As a father, it was the best possible thing William could have prayed for.
A son who had found peace.
A woman who adored him.
And a love story that was stronger than all of the grief the universe could bring.