Serpent (6 page)

Penelope clawed a hand at him. “Be still, else I will turn you into a fish and throw you into the marsh over near those trees.”

His grin broke through. “So you think yourself a witch, do you?”

Penelope lowered the hand and giggled. “Nay, I am not a witch,” she said, her smile fading as she gazed upon the silvery landscape of the unfamiliar country. “If I was, then I would cast a spell so that I would not have to marry
The Serpent. Why is he called The Serpent, anyway? Can no one tell me this?”

It was difficult for
Kevin to bite his tongue. “He is said to be a great warrior and a great commander,” he said, feeling his heart tug with sorrow. “He is called The Serpent because his strike is deadly. He was at Llandeilo in the battle where we lost your brother, James. We were told he masterminded the battle. It was a vicious fight, to be sure.”

Penelope looked at him, sadness in her expression
as she remembered that terrible time. “James died in Papa’s arms,” she murmured. “Papa has not yet recovered from it.”

Kevin
nodded faintly. “Nor I,” he said. “James was a good friend. I miss him every day.”

Penelope thought on her tall, blond brother a moment. “That is why Papa has brokered this marriage,” she said
, sounding as if she were trying to talk herself into the favor of the situation. “He does not want to lose another son in battle against the Welsh. I understand his logic although it does not make me happy to be the peace offering. Why could he not offer your sister, Rose? Why must it be me?”

Kevin
had asked himself that same question a dozen times although he knew the answer. “Because you are the daughter of The Wolfe,” he said simply. “Rose is the daughter of a mere knight. It would not have the same impact.”

Penelope knew that
. She grunted unhappily. “But Rose wants to remarry after James died last year,” she said. “She would make a much more willing bride than I do.”

Kevin
was silent, his gaze moving out over the marsh to the north. “Do you not want children and a family of your own someday?”

He should
not have asked it because the answer, either way, would hurt him. Still, he had foolishly asked. Penelope’s lips twisted wryly.

“
I would not know how to be a good wife,” she said. “I have never had an interest in such things. Katheryn and Evelyn did, but not me. Never me.”

Kevin
glanced at her, studying her glorious beauty in the moonlight and thinking of William and Jordan’s two other daughters. Katheryn, the eldest, was in Jordan’s image, blond and lovely, while Evelyn, the second daughter, took after the Scots side of the family with her pale skin and red hair. Penelope, however, was all William; she had his dark brown hair and hazel-gold eyes, giving her a most striking countenance.

It was
widely accepted that Penelope was the most beautiful out of all of The Wolfe’s daughters except for the unfortunate habit she had of dressing, and generally acting, like a knight. It was that lifestyle that her mother had been fearful of, but one Kevin understood completely. He wondered if The Serpent would understand, too. After a moment’s reflection of a marriage to the woman he loved that would never be, he sighed sadly and looked away.

“
Your marriage will be more prestigious than your sisters’,” he said, trying to sound positive when all he really wanted to do was beg her not to do it. “Katheryn married my older brother and Evelyn married Hector, but neither one of them will marry a warlord with such great stature. It is something you should be proud of.”

Penelope opened her mouth to speak but something in the distance caught her attention
. There seemed to be something moving in the shadows of the marsh, something she couldn’t quite make out. It seemed to flicker and roll, and just as she narrowed her eyes to get a better look at it, it quickly vanished. Thinking it was a trick of the moonlight, she returned her attention to Kevin only to see her father strolling up in the darkness.

“Greetings, Papa,” she said as William approached. “All is well.”

William came upon the pair, glancing at Kevin to see if he could determine the course of the conversation and the mood in the air, but Kevin met his gaze steadily. There was nothing in his expression suggesting anything other than a normal situation and William was relieved.

“
That is good to know,” he said, pausing as his gaze moved out over the ghostly landscape. It was indeed still and quiet. After a moment, he looked at his daughter. “Leave the night watch to Kevin. You must get some sleep. You have an important day ahead of you.”

Penelope frowned. “I will retire soon,” she said, trying to ignore her father now that she knew why he had come. “A few more hours and I will come to bed.”

“Nay,” William said, more firmly. “You will come now. Kevin can handle the north perimeter. Scott and Troy are off to the west while the rest of the knights are spread out. You are not needed.”

Penelope’s frown deepened. “Papa, truly, I am not tired in the least,” she insisted. “I do not want….”

She was cut off by an unearthly howl that came from the direction of the marsh. It was so loud that it literally reverberated off of the trees, tents, or anything else that happened to provide a measure of sound resistance. Penelope whirled in the direction of the marsh, as did Kevin and William. Penelope was armed, as was Kevin, and the broadswords came out.

It had been a terrible and shattering sound, one that sent hearts to racing with apprehension. In this vast and unfamiliar land, it was an unwelcome and unsettling noise. They stood there, watching and waiting, as the entire camp began to stir.

“What
was
that?” Penelope asked, rather breathlessly.

William was characteristically calm, his one good eye scrutinizing the moonlit lands
. He slowly shook his head.

“I do not know,” he said. “A creature of some kind, I suppose.
Hopefully the fires will keep it away.”

Penelope looked at her father
with some fear in her expression. “A creature?” she repeated. “I have never heard any creature make that kind of noise.”

William wasn’t inclined to get worked up about
it; the man was not easily spooked. He had learned long ago not to get agitated over things he could not control.

“If it shows itself, then we shall know what it is,” he said, his gaze lingering on the marshy area
a moment longer before returning to his daughter. “Meanwhile, you will come with me and get some sleep. If you resist me, know that I will carry you over my shoulder.”

Penelope still had her sword up in front of her, defensively. The otherworldly howl still had the hair on the back of her neck on end.
Before she could respond to her father, she could see a pair of men making their way towards them from the darkness of the camp. The first face she could make out was Kieran, looking as if he had just awoken from a deep sleep. He slept heavily and long these days, an old man whose health had seen better times. Next to him came another familiar face, a big and handsome man with graying blond hair. Penelope fixed on him.

“Did you hear that noise, Uncle Paris?” she asked
eagerly. “Could that be the creatures you have told me lurk in these lands? The ones that followed the Northmen here those centuries ago?”

Sir Paris de Norville scratched his head as he glanced at William; William and Paris had been the best of friends since their days as squires, having served in the north and fought against the Scots side by side for more years
than they cared to remember. Closer than brothers, they could generally read each other’s minds. At the moment, Paris was fairly certain that William was unhappy with him for filling Penelope’s head with wild tales of Wales. He tried not to look too guilty.

“It was an interesting sound, to be sure,” Paris said, avoiding her question. “We thought we heard it
come from this direction.”

William nodded. “I believe so.”

“You did not see anything?”

“Nay.”

All eyes were trained on the marsh beneath the full moon. Paris pointed in the direction of the swampy and dark lands. “I saw a small lake to the north of the marsh when we rode in,” he said. “There is not much land in that direction. It all seems to be water.”

Kieran came to stand next to his son as Paris and William tried to calm Penelope
. She had been trained as a knight, that was true, but she tended to get excited due to her young and passionate nature. As Kieran and Kevin scanned the silvery landscape for any hint of what might have made such a terrible sound, it was Kevin who finally spotted the source. He pointed a big finger towards the north.

“Father?” he said to Kieran, struggling to maintain a calm demeanor. “Do you see
that?”

Kieran, old as he was, still had sharp eyesight
. He was starting to see what his son was pointing at and he didn’t like it one bit. At first, he wasn’t sure he was seeing clearly but as the thing began to move and its form became clearer in the moonlight, Kieran fought down a sense of shock. He could hardly believe his eyes.

“Aye,” he muttered. “
What in the hell
is
it?”

“I do not know.”

Kieran gazed at the sight a moment longer before turning to William, his expression grim. “How far is Rhydilian Castle from here?”

By now, William, Paris, and Penelope were also straining to catch a glimpse of what had Kieran and
Kevin’s attention. They all saw it at nearly the same time, a very large and horrific vision that seemed to displace entire mounds of earth and swamp as it moved. Water sloshed and trees were uprooted in its path. It was, in truth, a terrifying and startling sight, and quite difficult to comprehend.

“
Too
far,” William growled. Still, he was on the move. “Too far but we have no choice. Rouse the camp and tell them to take only what they can carry on horseback. Leave everything else behind. Knights will hang back and form a line to give the others time to reach the castle. Kieran, Kevin;
move
.”

He didn’t even wait for the men to swing into action, knowing that they would
without question. As Penelope stood there, eyes wide and mouth agape, William grabbed her and pulled her away with him.

The last thing Penelope heard as her father hurried her across the camp was another horrifying, une
arthly howl, this one closer than the last. It was coming for them, this nightmare from the mysterious lands of the Welsh, looming closer and closer, perhaps attracted by the smell of human flesh. It was difficult to know why it came, only that it had, and all Penelope could think about was reaching her mother. She couldn’t even think about herself; all she knew was that she had to get her mother to safety.

Death approached.

⌘

By the time William and Penelope reached their tent, they could hear the sentries on the south side of the camp take up a common cry
. It was enough to give William pause as, suddenly, men on horseback were charging through his encampment. Shoving Penelope into the tent, he went for his broadsword. Now, he was in battle mode and The Wolfe would spare no one. With his family at stake, especially his wife and daughter, he was in full warrior form. Old as he was, it was still an impressive sight to behold.

“Stay with your mother,” he commanded
Penelope. “You will protect her, do you hear? Stay here.”

Penelope didn’t argue; she was in mail, with her broadsword in hand, and she pushed her startled mother to the ground near the brazier.
There were a few other candles in the tent, giving off light, and she quickly doused them so they would not throw shadows against the hide walls of the shelter. If the enemy was upon them, she didn’t want them to be seen.

There was a good deal of shouting going on in the darkness and she could hear the clash of sword
s. Most definitely she heard weapons being produced. She could also hear the thunder of horses and the roar of the approaching horror. Men were shouting and she could hear lines being formed. Suddenly, another woman appeared in their tent. She was small and rather round, but she was feisty and quick. Wrapped in a heavy cloak, with her dark hair escaping its net, the Lady Jemma Scott Hage was making an appearance.