WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2) - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,72

said. “Your chamber is now prepared, as is your father’s. If you would like to rest, I will happily show you to your chamber.”

It sounded innocent enough. Isalyn turned to her father, still sitting with Tor and Blayth. “Father?” she said. “Your chamber is prepared. Would you like to rest?”

Gilbert waved her off, still talking to Tor. Isalyn shrugged and returned her attention to Barbara.

“It seems that he wishes to remain, but I will go with you,” she said. “My father’s knight should have my satchel.”

“I will send someone for it.”

Isalyn stood up and moved to follow Barbara and Lenore, but Isabella was suddenly by her side.

“I will go with you,” she said, looping her arm through Isalyn’s companionably. “I would like to hear more about London. Will you tell me?”

Isalyn nodded, feeling some comfort that Isabella was going with her. She was feeling uneasy with Tor’s two wards for reasons she couldn’t explain.

Perhaps it was only nerves.

The four women headed out of the hall, out into the bright day. Now that the fog had burned off, the view was limitless and Isalyn found herself looking at the inner bailey with interest. There was a massive, square keep nearly dead center in the middle of it and several large outbuildings.

“This is such a large place,” she said, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up at the keep. “I had no idea that it would be so big.”

Isabella looked to see what had her attention, squinting in the sunlight. “It is a very big keep, but each floor only has one large chamber,” she said. “That is why guests stay in the apartments.”

She was gesturing towards a two-story stone building built close to the wall. There were a few outbuildings near it, but Isalyn noticed that the apartment block butted up next to the kitchen yard.

“Do you come here often, my lady?” she asked Isabella.

Isabella shook her head. “Not too often,” she said. “My father divides his time between Castle Questing and Roxburgh Castle.”

“And you travel with him?”

“Sometimes,” Isabella said. “I like Roxburgh a great deal, but it is a dangerous place. The Scots are always trying to gain control of it, so my father prefers that I stay at Castle Questing with my mother.”

“And the Scots are not always trying to gain control of that one?”

Isabella grinned. “Not that one,” she said. “Castle Questing is impossible for them to get close to. It is the safest castle in the north, you know. It has never known a serious siege, mostly because the Scots would have to climb a mountain to get to it and, by that time, they would be too exhausted to fight.”

Isalyn’s eyes twinkled. “Given that I was born in Northumberland, one would think I would know a little something about these big border castles and military tactics, but alas, I know nothing.”

“Do not worry,” Isabella reassured her. “While you are here, I will teach you. The first rule is to never go outside of these walls without an escort. This far north, the Scots linger everywhere. They would be thrilled to pluck a ripe English lass and take her home.”

Isalyn remembered what Tor had said to her; do not leave Blackpool unescorted. Now she was coming to see what he meant. A lass like Isabella, who spent all of her time in the north, knew not to wander away alone. Isalyn had done it from Featherstone, but Featherstone wasn’t quite as far north as Blackpool was. Here, they were very close to the border.

Isalyn would have to remember not to wander alone and resist her natural instinct.

She didn’t want to be plucked like a ripe berry.

“You are kind to take the time to teach me,” she said. “You can teach me about the north and I can teach you about London.”

Isabella liked that idea a great deal. “An excellent suggestion,” she said. “Teach me everything so that when I visit London the next time, I will look as if I belong there.”

They grinned at each other, quickly becoming fast friends, when a shout came from behind. They paused, turning to see a big knight with black hair on the approach.

Isabella’s eyes widened.

“Who is that?” she asked.

Isalyn lifted her hand again to shield her eyes from the sunlight. It was a very bright day. “That is my father’s knight, Fraser,” she said. The same hand at her eyes waved at him. “Here, Fraser!”

Fraser was carrying a satchel with him. Clad in a mail coat, tunic,