Page 76 of Wolfehound
“I am coming,” she said, emerging from the solar and shutting the door behind her. “Quickly, now. Show me where the pup is.”
Since there was only one way in and out of the keep, they could only go through the keep entry that faced the bailey, and Cambria was close on the heels of the servant as they raced down the stairs. The kitchens were to the south of the keep, with a covered passageway that went from the kitchens to the hall, but in order to get to the yard, they had to go outside of the keep’s perimeter. Cambria was practically running by the time she hit the dirt of the bailey, picking up speed as she headed for the kitchen yard. She rushed past the stables and into the yard, which was behind a stone wall and a gate.
Once she was inside, she was able to breathe a little.
She knew she shouldn’t be out. Liam had told her to stay in the solar, but she simply couldn’t stay there while one of her puppies suffered. She had to keep telling herself that, telling herself that no harm was done. There were so many soldiers in the bailey that surely she was safe for the quick dash into the yard. She ran straight to the series of pens and dens she had for the puppies only to see another young servant boy there, holding the wounded puppy.
Cambria climbed right inside the pen.
“Let me have him,” she said.
Reaching out, she scooped the pup off the lap of the servant. The boy laid out a piece of cloth he had, one a kitchen servant had given him to stem the blood, and Cambria put the puppy down on the cloth to inspect him. He was yelping in pain and she could see two distinct puncture marks and a big scrape. The mother dog, lured by the sounds of her injured puppy, came out of her den and began to lick the injured pup as Cambria critically assessed the situation.
“I am going to need wine and honey,” she told the servant hovering over her, the one who had fetched her. “I will also need my sewing kit, something to sew up the cut. Hurry!”
The servant fled. Meanwhile, the mother dog was very concerned with the puppy, so Cambria coaxed the dog back into her den and then put the injured puppy against the mother. The puppy began to nurse, and the mother dog licked the wounds, and that was the best they could do until Cambria received the things she’d asked for.
At that point, all she could do was wait.
*
Tyrus thought hewas seeing things.
He was in the stable yard, which was next to the kitchen yard, tightening up his saddle when a woman with coal-black hair and a finely featured face ran past him into the kitchen yard. She had been with a servant, focused on what was ahead of her, so he only saw her in profile. He thought he might have caught more of a broad view of her face, just a flash of it, and it seemed to him that her eyes were light.
Blue eyes.
Black hair.
Suddenly, the cold light of suspicion dawned.
So did a rising anger. He was starting to think that, somehow, therewasa woman with black hair and blue eyes at Folkingham and he’d been convinced otherwise by those who lived here. Therefore, he was going to do more investigation on the subject that didn’t involve the lord or his complicit friends. He looked around for the nearest stable servant and found an old man bent over one of the horses inside, picking stones out of a hoof.
Tyrus was, if nothing else, cunning. He was going to have to be discreet about what he wanted because that usually achieved the desired results. Demands and going straight to the point would only cause fear and, perhaps, even reserve and suspicion. And he didn’t want that.
Therefore, he was going to have to be subtler about it.
“I was wondering,” he said to the servant, “where’s the nearest tavern around here?”
The man paused what he was doing, pointing with the metal pick he had in his hand. “There’s a small one in the village,” he said. “They don’t have rooms, but they’ll let you a bed if you pay. You’ll just have to sleep in the common room or in the barn.”
“Are there better inns within a few hours’ ride?”
The man nodded. “Go on the road to the east and you’ll run into the village of Billingborough,” he said. “They have an inncalled The Fish House. You can find a room there and the food isn’t bad, so I’ve heard.”
“Thank you,” Tyrus said. Then he paused a moment, looking to the bailey beyond the stable. “Everyone seems very excited for the wedding.”
The old man grinned and went back to the hoof. “It’s been a long time in coming,” he said. “I’ve watched that little lass grow up. It’s time she was married. No pretty lass should be left unmarried at her age.”
Tyrus smiled weakly. “Pretty, you say?”
The old man snorted. “Don’t get any ideas about her,” he said. “Liam Herringthorpe will run you through.”
“Is that so?”
“’Tis,” the old man said. “He’s been waiting for this longer than anyone.”
Tyrus was still smiling, though it was an act. “I’ve got a woman of my own,” he said, though it was a lie. He was making a calculated statement to get the answer he wanted. “I do not need another one, though I suspect mine is the prettiest. Blonde like an angel.”
