WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2) - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,33
thinking that perhaps she should find some shelter because she didn’t want to ruin the red damask she was wearing. Across the courtyard, where the horses were tethered, was a doorway that led inside and she headed in that direction.
But that path took her by Tor’s fat horse and something made her pause next to the animal. Maybe she simply wanted to get a good look at the horse, an animal he would have undoubtedly taken into battle. In London, she wasn’t exposed much to the warlords or knights, so battle to her was more of a concept than something she had any experience with. Bloodthirsty knights who fought with barbaric Scotsman or uncivilized Welsh were about all she knew of the fighting class. Her world had always been a somewhat sheltered and civilized existence, where things like that didn’t much exist.
She had never shown much interest in that world but, suddenly, she was.
That world had Tor in it.
At that point, Isalyn was standing at the horse’s head and the animal noticed her, lifting its muzzle out of the water. It was a very pretty horse, even if he was big and hairy and strange-looking. There was something in his eyes that looked almost gentle and, on impulse, she reached out to pet him.
It was the wrong move.
The horse, startled by the hand in its face, jumped back and reared up. It was enough of a jolt to knock that enormous bundle on its hindquarters onto the ground and as Isalyn watched, the bundle became undone and part of an arm was exposed. Curiosity turned to horror as she realized that the wet blanket concealed a corpse, but that wasn’t the worst of it. A big gust of wind lifted up part of the horse blanket that the corpse was wrapped in, revealing its head.
She recognized the hair and the somewhat distorted features. Even though she hadn’t seen him in a few years, still, she never forgot a face.
Isalyn found herself looking at her very dead brother.
Her screams filled the air.
By the time Tor hit the bailey along with Gilbert, Nat, and Fraser, everyone seemed to be in an uproar and it all seemed to be centered around Enbarr. There was more screaming going on and, quickly, Tor pushed through a crowd of soldiers to see what they were looking at.
Then, he could instantly see what happened.
Somehow, some way, Steffan’s body had been dislodged from the back of his horse. It now lay up on the ground, in the mud, and the horse blanket that had been tightly wrapped around it had partially come off. But that wasn’t the worst part – Enbarr, startled by the surge of the crowd and the screams that seemed to be echoing off the walls of the manse, was dancing around in a jittery fashion. In the process, he had stepped on Steffan’s body repeatedly.
What they had was a mess.
“God,” Tor groaned, shoving some soldiers aside as he hastened to calm his panicking steed. He grasped the horse’s head, struggling to calm the beast. “Easy, Enbarr. Be easy, lad.”
Quickly, he untied the reins that had the animal tethered to a post, pulling the animal away from the body on the ground. There were horrified stable servants standing around, watching the spectacle, and he grabbed the nearest man by the collar and yanked him over to the horse.
“You will tend my horse,” he growled. “Your life depends on how well you tend him. See that he is calmed and fed and watered. Is this in any way unclear?”
The petrified servant nodded, quickly taking Enbarr and leading him off towards the stables. Tor would have liked to have tended his horse personally, but he had a bigger matter on his hands. He made his way back to the trampled body on the ground, now as Gilbert bent over it, trying not to weep.
“My son,” the man said tightly, looking at the rotting remains. “My poor boy.”
He didn’t seem to know what to do other than stand there and grieve, so Tor swung into action. He snapped his fingers at Nat and motioned to the body. Taking the hint, Nat bent over and flipped the blanket back over the body to cover it, as least as much as he was able. The blanket was matted and filthy from having been stepped on. Both Tor and Nat lifted the edges of the horse blanket and used it like a litter.