Hugs,
De Wolfe Pack Generations
The grandsons of William de Wolfe are referred to as “The de Wolfe Cubs”. There are more than forty of them, both biological and adopted, and each young man is sworn to his powerful and rich legacy. When each grandson comes of age and is knighted, he tattoos the de Wolfe standard onto some part of his body. It is a rite of passage and it is that mark that links these young men together more than blood.
More than brotherhood.
It is the de Wolfe birthright.
The de Wolfe Pack standard is meant to be worn with honor, with pride, and with resilience, for there is no more recognizable standard in Medieval England. To shame the Pack is to have the tattoo removed, never to be regained.
This is their world.
Welcome to the Cub Generation.
De Wolfe Motto: Fortis in arduis
Strength in times of trouble
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Author’s Note
De Wolfe Pack Generations
Prologue
Chapter One
PART ONE: LONDON
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
PART TWO: THE SCOTTISH MARCHES
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
The parents, children, and grandchildren of de Wolfe
Holdings and Titles of the House of de Wolfe and close allies as of 1292 A.D.
Kathryn Le Veque Novels
About Kathryn Le Veque
PROLOGUE
Castle Questing
1255 A.D.
He saw him coming.
William de Wolfe, the greatest English knight on the Scottish border, was all-seeing and all-knowing when it came to matters of northern England. He had the pulse of the politics and the players but, unfortunately, he had missed something occurring within his very own family. He was still kicking himself because of it.
The truth was that his sons were becoming young men.
Young men with the natural needs of young men.
His twins, Scott and Troy, had just turned twenty-one years of age and their brother, Patrick, was fourteen months younger and a full-fledged knight. All of them were back with their father at his seat of Castle Questing after having spent years training at Kenilworth Castle, Norham Castle, and then Bamburgh Castle when the lord of Bamburgh lost several men to an illness. It was only temporary, but it had been good experience. Now, they were some of the most highly trained knights in all of England, a tribute to their magnificent father.
The rest of his sons – James, Edward, and Thomas were in various stages of training. All of them growing up, all of them turning an eye to young women.
And one son in particular, he had just found out, had done more than simply turn an eye.
Now, there was trouble.
“Papa!” Patrick de Wolfe was in the doorway of his solar. The tallest man in the family at several inches over six feet, he’d reached that height at an early age and was still growing. “Uncle Paris is here!”
William was calm, watching his oldest and dearest friend, Paris de Norville, ride in through the massive Castle Questing interior gatehouse astride a fat, gray war horse. A few of Paris’ soldiers followed, but they remained back by the gatehouse in an uncertain bunch. They didn’t follow their liege towards the keep.
There was a reason for that.
“I know,” William said steadily.
Scott, the first-born twin, was suddenly in the doorway next to Patrick. “Papa?” he said, sounding anxious. “Did Atty tell you?”
Atty was what the family called Patrick, a childhood nickname for the little boy who couldn’t pronounce his name correctly.
William nodded.
“He did,” he said. “I can see him from here.”
Patrick and Scott looked at each other, trying not to appear too panic-stricken.
“Papa,” Scott hissed. “He’s here. You know why!”
William turned to his sons. “You will keep your apprehension under control,” he commanded quietly. “Seasoned men do not let their emotions show. You know this.”
Scott was trying not to, but he was an emotional man to begin with. “I do not think you understand the seriousness of the situation,” he said. “We have tried to explain it to you. Troy has explained it to you. You know why Uncle Paris is here and yet, you stand there calmly? I do not understand.”
“What would you have me do?” William asked, looking between them. “Run out there and beg for mercy? Better still, draw my sword against him? He has every right to come here and you both know it. I understand the seriousness of the situation fully. But we will discuss this calmly, like men. There will be no bloodshed this day and most especially not between Paris and Troy.”
He meant what he said even if Scott and Patrick didn’t look convinced. He returned his attention to the bailey, completely calm until he caught movement. His son, Troy, was making his way out into the bailey, dressed for battle. The man was armed to the teeth, everything dark and deadly reflecting the light as he walked.
So much for composure.
William bolted.
He pushed in between Patrick and Scott, charging towards the entry of Castle Questing’s massive keep. He’d nearly reached the door when his second in command, and another old and dear friend, came off the stairwell.
“Paris is here,” Kieran Hage said grimly. “He just came through the gatehouse.”
William threw open the door. “I know,” he said. “Worse still, Troy knows. Come, Kieran. I will need your help.”
Kieran didn’t hesitate. A massive man with dark blond hair and dark brown eyes, he was William’s right hand at Castle Questing. Kieran and William and Paris had known each other since they had been squires and they’d bonded over adventures, misadventures, and everything in between. There were no bonds stronger in England, so much so that William, Kieran, and Paris had married three women who were cousins. Now, they were family and those family bonds were unbreakable.
But those bonds were about to be tested.
William knew that. God help him, he did. Kieran knew it, too. Unfortunately, they’d been so focused on Paris and Troy that they didn’t notice they’d lost Scott and Patrick. The brothers
