The White Wolf (Half-Breed Book 1) (20 page)

“Look's like we've lost them for now.”

Conley appeared into the clearing first just after Milea moved away from Varg. She knelt beside him and looked nervously away as if she'd committed a crime. Soon everyone else followed behind the Count. Conley and Oliva approached Varg just as he was trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

“Good, it looks like you're healed,” Conley said.

Varg shifted his position and felt his newly closed wound. “Milea's quite the healer.”

“We should be safe here for the night, so you just focus on regaining your strength until we move in the morning,” Conley told him.

Varg disobeyed and tried to stand. “What if Alastor's men or the Shadow Hand find us?” Varg's head began to rush, prompting him to sit back against the tree.

“Don't be stubborn, Varg. Rest,” Oliva scolded.

Varg grudgingly nodded and complied.

Once Tain and Erril returned and informed everyone that the area was clear and they were safe to set up camp, Milea went into the woods to hunt and later returned with fresh game. Conley and Tain set up a fire pit and Milea roasted the meat into a stew. She helped Varg eat in silence, and avoided his gaze. He felt a bit stronger once his belly was full and after he clad his torn cuirass, he dared to stand and stretch his legs.

Fortunately, the half-blood recovered quicker than usual and paced for a bit before he felt dizzy again. He noticed that Milea avoided his gaze, but he'd hoped it was only because she was as anxious and confused as he was, and not that she felt regret for their experience. As fatigue set into his weary body, Varg lay down on his sleep sack next to the campfire and watched Milea as she tended the flames. His heavy eyes got the best of him and he began to fall asleep, but not before he felt the soft touch of a woman's hand brush the hair from his face.

CHAPTER 18

WITH THE MORNING LIGHT, Varg had enough strength for the party to begin their march away from the wood and onward to Ironbarrow. They reached the forest edge by the afternoon, and fortunately there were no guards waiting for them, so they continued onward until they safely reached the county border. By the evening the next day, they finally reached the welcoming gates of Ironbarrow and went straight to the castle to tell Catrina what they had learned. Then, after a brief rest in the castle, Varg suggested a trip to the tavern for a round of drinks.

Conley, Milea, and Tain all joined Varg around the table in the corner of the busy tavern as they began to discuss the next move.

Conley in particular was quite on edge and didn't bother to conceal it. The Count shook his head and rested it on his fist, then said, “I just pray the King hasn't been influenced by the Shadow Hand yet.”

Milea was the first to offer the Count solace in the matter. “If that were the case, then Jin wouldn't need Alastor to take the throne.”

“I hope you're right,” Conley replied.

“What do we do now, then?” Varg wondered aloud.

“Obviously we need to warn the King about Alastor and the Shadow Hand,” Conley said. “Considering we are going to be accusing the King's own nephew of treason, our best case scenario includes a lifetime of prison and torture.”

“I say we go to the castle and just tell the King about the cult without mentioning Alastor. Then if he does decide to investigate, we can help prove the bastard guilty and watch him hang,” Varg said.

“We won't get past the front gate without being granted an audience,” Conley somberly replied.

“There has to be something we can do,” Milea said.

Before Varg could say anything else, a tap on his shoulder prompted him to turn around. A tavern wench who balanced a tray in one hand held out a folded piece of paper to him with her free hand.

Varg accepted the paper, then asked, “What's this?”

“A patron pointed you out and asked me to give you this,” the girl replied.

“Thanks, I guess,” Varg said as the wench walked off and carried her tray to another table. Varg unfolded the paper and looked it over in silence. After he looked up again and saw the curious looks on his comrades' faces, read it aloud, “'I know how to get rid of the Shadow Hand. Meet me in my private booth upstairs in ten minutes. Come alone and unarmed.'”

“Who do you suppose it could be?” Milea asked.

“And why do they want you to go alone?” Conley pressed.

“Not to mention unarmed,” Tain added.

“I don't know, but I have a feeling this is the only way to get answers,” Varg said.

“Varg, we are in a desperate situation here. This isn't the time for gut instincts and hunches,” Conley argued.

“Conley, Varg's instincts have never been wrong. If he thinks it is worth checking out, then we should trust him,” she said.

“Fine, but we should wait down here for any signs of foul play,” Conley said.

Varg took one final gulp of his pint, slapped the mug on the table, and said, “Well, I'd better not keep our informant waiting.”

Varg climbed the stairs of the pub and came across a couple of vigilant guards. They took one look at him and though Varg expected to be turned away, one of them said, “His Lordship is expecting you.”

The guards moved aside and opened the door for Varg. The upstairs room appeared to be reserved for high class guests. Several wealthy men sat in comfortable booths and were waited on by finely dressed bar maids.

“Over there,” said one of the guards.

The guard pointed to a small booth in the corner where Varg saw a man sitting facing away from him. Though he couldn't see the nobleman's face, Varg's blood boiled and he realized exactly who it was.

Varg marched to the table, looked his informant in the face, and spat, “Greenwood, you sack of dung.”

Edric Greenwood looked up at Varg and answered, “Lovely to see you again, too.”

“What do you want? Is this one of your tricks?” Varg accused.

“This is just you and me talking, hunter. No ambushes, no tricks, just a chat. Now sit,” Edric said.

Varg glared at the Count, but sat anyway. “You said in your note that you know how to defeat the Shadow Hand. Tell me.”

“Not here,” Greenwood replied.

Varg breathed deeply to control his fists, then said, “Why did you call me up here if you weren't going to tell me anything?”

“I figured you already told Conley about my involvement in Lionel's death. I reasoned that if I had simply strolled up to the gates of his castle, he would have had me killed on the spot,” Edric explained.

“Give me just one reason why I shouldn't do the same?” Varg growled.

Edric straightened up and held out a hand in protest. “Just calm yourself and think for a moment. I have a proposition for you and I know it's your only option at the moment, so I suggest you comply.”

Varg didn't like this at all, but he grudgingly admitted to himself that the Count was right. “Fine, what is your deal?”

“Like I said before, not here. I only wanted you alone so you could convince Conley to allow me into his castle and make plans there. I don't expect you to trust me, but perhaps you would be inclined to listen as you have no other way of getting into the King Reman's castle,” Greenwood remarked.

Varg straightened up and countered, “How did you know we needed to get to the castle?”

The Count stared a moment and then shrugged and said, “What other option would you have? I'm sure you've discovered that the Shadow Hand has more influence in Fellen than you realized, so Reman would be the only person who could take action at this point. I expect you will listen to reason?”

“On one condition,” Varg said. When the Count gave him a curious look, Varg continued, “You are to look Oliva and Catrina in the eyes and admit to them that you killed Lionel.”

“They already know I did—”

Varg boldly cut off the Count to speak again. “They know you are a liar and a coward, but you are going to face them and allow the look on their faces to burn into your mind forever. I want you to think of that every time you close your eyes. I want you to imagine the bloodied corpse of the man you once called your friend when you look at his daughter and granddaughter and tell them what you've done.”

Edric sighed. “If that will satisfy you. Leave your response with the barmaid downstairs. Good evening to you.”

Varg then rose from his seat and marched for the door, but not before giving one last icy glare to the deceitful and murderous Count of Rivershire.

When Varg returned downstairs, he told everyone about his conversation with Greenwood. Conley in particular grew agitated by this revelation.

“He doesn't actually expect me to allow him into my castle,” Conley growled.

“I know, Conley, but he knows how we can stop the Shadow Hand,” Varg said.

“I hate to accept help from him, but Varg is right,” Milea agreed.

“I doubt the rat is worth the trouble,” Tain argued.

“Tain is right. I cannot allow Catrina or Oliva to be in the same room as that man!” Conley said. “It would be an insult to Lionel's memory.”

“Conley, Oliva and Catrina are far stronger than you give them credit for,” Milea said. “If it will satisfy you, let them decide whether or not we listen to what Greenwood has to say.”

Conley sighed. “I won't lie, I don't like this at all. First the two of you tell me Edric Greenwood murdered my father-in-law and framed Milea for it. Then you tell me he was responsible for the Shadow Hand gaining entrance to Balik, where they abducted Oliva. Now you want me to forget all of that and make him a guest in my home? In Catrina's home?”

Varg shifted in his seat. “I want Greenwood's head on a platter as much as you do, but if we have a chance of defeating the Shadow Hand because of his cooperation, I'm willing to form a temporary alliance with him. I don't know why he's suddenly working against the people he killed for, and frankly I don't care. All I know is that we may need his help, and not a single attempt at pleading or bribery can spare him my wrath should he betray us.”

Conley took a deep breath. “I want to at least discuss this with Catrina and Oliva first.”

“That's fair,” Varg concurred.

Conley rose from his seat and left his tip on the table. Then he announced, “Then tell the Count he shall receive confirmation within the hour.”

After Conley was out of earshot, Tain faced Varg and asked, “Do you really think this is a good idea?”

“No, but we have no other choice,” Varg admitted.

“We need to take every precaution with him around,” Milea said.

Varg nodded. “Agreed.”

Varg took a sip from his goblet of mead as he watched Edric stare silently across Conley's study at Catrina and Oliva. When Conley had told them the Count's proposal, they were surprisingly willing to listen to him. After their confirmation, Conley then had a courier bring the message to Greenwood to meet him in the castle, and now it was his turn to fulfill a bargain.

With watchful eyes, Varg lowered the goblet from his lips and said, “Say it, Greenwood.”

The Count of Rivershire cleared his throat and spoke. “I . . . killed Lionel Lerington. . . . because he knew too much about the Shadow Hand . . . and I was afraid the King would soon discover my involvement.”

The room grew silent, which ended with Catrina. The brave Lady stepped forward, held her head high, and spoke. “You tell me you murdered my father for the favor of the Serpent, yet now you offer to help us fight him. Tell me, why should I trust your intentions are pure?”

Greenwood caught his breath. “The Serpent sees my actions as a liability to the Shadow Hand, since the murder of Lionel prompted all of you to investigate their dealings. He may not want to admit there's a problem, but the Serpent has had his hands full trying to rid himself of the lot of you. I learned from one of my sources that he and plans to have me disposed of once Alastor takes the throne. I plan to make sure that does not happen.”

Catrina had already heard the story about what had happened to everyone in Eastwold, but she still asked, “What would placing Alastor on the throne of Fellen accomplish for the Shadow Hand?”

Greenwood continued his story. “Isn't it obvious? With a King in Jin's control, the Shadow Hand could have unlimited resources and power to do whatever they want. They could eliminate anyone who tried to stop them and if there's a problem with witnesses, a King could easily cover the truth.”

“How do they plan to place Alastor on the throne?” Varg asked.

“The Serpent is leading legions of his cultists to launch an attack on the city of Whitspire. They plan to infiltrate the castle and kill the royal family as well as Duke Rainald,” Edric explained.

“They're just going to march into the city and attack full force?” Milea asked. “Wouldn't they normally work in secret?”

“I don't know for sure, but I believe they want the public to think they were just an unorganized crime ring and they hope that once Alastor takes the throne, it will appear that he's cleaned up everything. I am willing to wager that Alastor persuaded his father to go so that it would look like he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Alastor will be able to take the throne with no questions asked and no investigations against him. After all, who would suspect a grief-stricken son who was miles away from the site of the attack of cold-blooded murder?” Edric said.

There was a brief silence that was broken by Conley. “Well then, we know what Jin is planning, but do we know when?”

Count Greenwood cleared his throat and answered, “In four days.”

“It will take three days to arrive in the castle, so we should leave tomorrow,” Varg said.

“I told you, that castle is a fortress,” Conley said. “We will not be allowed insi—”

“I would be,” Edric interrupted. Once all eyes were on him, he continued, “I can get into the castle and warn the King and Duke.”

“Oh yes, I forgot. The King is your brother-in-law, correct?” Conley asked.

“Yes. The King's sister was my late wife. If I say it's important, he will see me without question,” Edric replied.

“Then why do you need us?” Varg asked.

“No one has proven themselves a match to them except for the lot of you. The King's army knows not what they would face, so you are the kingdom's greatest defense,” Greenwood replied.

“We cannot hope to fight them alone. As you said, there will be an army of cultists,” Milea said. “We don't have enough fighters who know what they are dealing with.”

“Yes we do,” Varg countered. All eyes were on him now, and he added, “Tollack and his merry dwarves have a score to settle with the Shadow Hand, remember?”

“It's an unlikely plan, Varg, but will we get to the dwarves and back to Whitspire in time?” Conley asked.

“I have the map here,” Milea said. She took out the large roll of parchment and examined the markings, then, “The mountain is only half a day's detour on the way to Whitspire. We could still make it.”