Page 38 of Wolfehound
This is to inform you that on the twenty-first day of April, Year of Our Lord 1302, Paris de Norville, Lord Bowmont,peacefully passed away. Please inform my nephew, Cassius, of this family matter. He will want to know.
Scott de Wolfe
Earl of Warenton
It was short and to the point, as an informational missive would be. No sentiment, no mention of mourning or pain or sorrow. No mention of how much the man was loved or how much he would be missed.
Cassius was so grieved with the news that he didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t as if it was his father or even his grandfather, but Paris de Norville had been a constant in his life. He’d called him uncle, and even though he wasn’t by blood, he was in heart and spirit. Paris de Norville was one of a kind, a powerful knight, a dedicated friend, and a revered father and grandfather. Cassius could only imagine what Paris’ family was feeling. If it was half of what he was feeling, then it was terrible, indeed. It was the end of a generation.
Now, they were all gone.
Edward, in a surprising show of sympathy, put his hand on Cassius’ arm.
“Go,” he said quietly. “Go to the cathedral if you wish and pray for de Norville. I know what he meant to your family.”
Cassius didn’t even argue with him. He simply nodded in agreement. Somehow all of this conjecture about missing princesses and deception didn’t seem all that important anymore. Not now. With the missive still in his hand, Cassius headed out of the chamber. Edward caught Denys’ eye and pointed to Cassius, indicating for him to follow the man and provide any support needed. Denys did, without hesitation, following Cassius into the corridor before he caught up to him. Silently, the two of them headed out into the midmorning sunshine.
As Denys quickly discovered, all Cassius wanted to do was wander. He didn’t go to the cathedral, but rather walked around aimlessly in the bailey, all the while clutching the missive in his hand. Denys finally had enough of wandering in circles and directed him out of the main gatehouse that faced north. There was a wide street out there and businesses lining the avenue, and Denys grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward an area called White Hall where there were several businesses, including a tavern. Denys directed Cassius inside, ordered food and drink for them both, and then planted the man at a table by the window overlooking the street.
Until the food and drink came, they simply sat in silence.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Cass,” Denys finally said. “The old guard has died away, one by one. It’s a sad day when the last of them goes.”
Cassius seemed to snap out of his trance. “Sad, indeed,” he said. “I was just thinking about the last time I saw Uncle Paris.”
“When was that?”
“Almost two years ago,” Cassius said. “I was trying to remember the last words we had. I remember that we were celebrating the day of birth for my grandmother.”
“Matha?”
Cassius smiled weakly. “Aye,” he said. “Matha. That small woman who bred a host of giant sons. I think my last words with Uncle Paris were those of farewell, just normal words, but I did tell him that I loved him. Just like the last time I saw my grandfather. I told him that I loved him, too. I was just thinking that those words seem so simple, and simple words do not reflect the totality of a relationship, yet when the words speak of love, they do. I loved my grandfather my entire life, as I loved Uncle Paris, so those words defined the totality of a relationship built on love.”
Denys smiled faintly. “I never met Paris de Norville, but I met William de Wolfe once,” he said. “I was younger. Much younger. I remember a very large man with a patch over one eye. He came to Norwich Castle and supped with my father.”
“He lost his eye in a battle in Wales,” Cassius said. Then he cocked his head as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Doesn’t the Bible say something about restoring a body after death?”
Denys nodded. “I think so,” he said, picking up the pitcher of wine for the first time and pouring it into the cups that had been brought alongside it. “It says that God will restore the body and soul of believers.”
“Then the day my grandfather died, he awoke in heaven and saw with two eyes for the first time in more than sixty years,” he said. “Strange I didn’t think of that until now. And on the twenty-first day of April, he saw the best friend he ever had for the first time in six years. What a reunion that must have been.”
Denys pushed a cup in his direction. “That’s a lovely thought,” he said. “I hope that brings you comfort.”
A lump formed in Cassius’ throat. “It does,” he said. “But I’m also jealous. Jealous that Paris is seeing my grandfather and I am not. I had to stand through that conference today and listen to Canterbury spout lies about my grandfather and there was nothing I could do to stop him. How dare that man insinuate that my grandfather somehow behaved ignobly. How dare he intimate that he betrayed the king somehow. I should have ripped that bastard’s head off.”
Denys could see the grief rising, the anger. “William de Wolfe was a man of honor and integrity and everyone knows it,” he said firmly. “Do not be troubled by it, Cass. It’s just Canterbury spouting his vitriol again.”
Cassius shook his head. “But I am troubled by it,” he said. “How can I not be? To attack a dead man like that, who is not even able to defend his good name.”
“But you will. Your family will.”
Cassius sighed heavily. “Aye, I will,” he said. “I’ll defend it to the death. And now with Uncle Paris’ death… it just emphasizes the fact that my grandfather is no longer here. I miss him more than I can express, Denys. It just… hurts.”
Watching Cassius wrestle with his grief, Denys lifted his cup. “Then let us honor him,” he said softly. “Let us remember those men who have gone before us. To Kieran Hage, to Paris de Norville, and to William de Wolfe. Long may their stories be told.”
Cassius lifted his cup in return, acknowledging the tribute, before draining the contents. Then he lowered his head and let the tears fall, just a little. Like most of the de Wolfe grandchildren, Cassius had grown up with three grandfather figures in his life. Kieran Hage was one such figure, and they’d lost Kieran the same year his Uncle James had returned from the dead. Then William’s death came six years ago and Cassius still hadn’t recovered from that. Now… now, Paris had finally slipped away, ascending to the heavens, and Cassius felt as if a big piece of his life was gone.
Pieces of the past, all fading into memory.
