Ave Lupinotuum Ch. 05

He laid back against the soft mattress, while Morgana laid on top of him. Now in human form, she rested her head against his and looked into his eyes.

"I'm making you my husband." She said, in a surprisingly soft and gentle voice. Her hand reached back and started stroking his hard cock.

"I accept the proposal." He whispered back.

She cupped his face and tenderly stole his first kiss. Their lips planted against each other, he felt a tingly sensation coming from his loins. Feeling her body pressing against him as they tenderly kissed was heavenly. She pulled out of the kiss, before guiding his dick to her pussy. She was just about to let him in, but then he woke up.

He opened his eyes to see the ceiling of their tent. Yet again, he was in his own little corner, so close yet so far from the woman he'd just been dreaming about.

"What is wrong with me?" He thought, rubbing his head. It was then he realized that he'd gotten hard in his sleep. Mercifully the pelt that covered him seemed to hide it well enough, but still, waiting for it to go back down only added to his strange feelings of frustration.

After traveling for about a day, they had moved their camp to another location. This one was a little way down the river and was further from any roads. That made raiding more difficult, but they needed time to recuperate in a safe location. His first night sleeping at this new camp was not a good start.

Once it went down, he finally rose from his makeshift pelt bed and stretched. He ran his rans through his long hair, smoothing out his bedhead. Leaving the empty tent, he saw their new camp bustling with activity. Amid the shuffle and chatter, he could hear the flowing river nearby.

He found a sunny spot to sit in and munched on some bread for his breakfast. The sunlight offset the chill, but it was still cold and the bread was stale. He sometimes second-guessed his decision to stick around; a bandit's life was not easy.

Just as he was finishing his bland breakfast, he heard a familiar voice come up from behind him.

"The forsaken noble finally awakes." Morgana said.

He grumbled, before taking the last bite of bread.

"You had a pleasant look on your face when I woke up earlier. What were you dreaming about?"

His blood ran cold at the idea of telling her about his dreams. "Nothing!" He sputtered.

She just laughed. "Nothing, sure." Getting in front of him, she put her hands behind her back and looked down on him. "Well, now that you're finally awake, it's time we started planning our next move. You said you could help us, now it's time you followed through on your word. I hope for your sake that you'll be of some added benefit."

Swallowing the last bite of old bread, he followed after her as she went to meet with Faidh. He was sitting on a stump and using a rock to sharpen his sword. In all the commotion, stubble had grown on his face, almost looking like a thin beard.

"He woke up finally." She announced, pointing back to the drowsy man in question. "Now, it's time to discuss our next move."

He looked up from sharpening his blade. "I see." He tossed the stone aside, before sliding the sword into his leather sheath. "Well, before we start that discussion again, there is one piece of information that I feel is worth sharing." He reached into his knapsack and pulled a small piece of parchment from it. "We found this note on the captain's body, it's orders from the Duke of York. I would have brought it up sooner, but there was little time that night and I only recently had the time to look at it myself."

"What does it say?" She asked.

"Well, I think it best I hand it to Francis here." He said, before giving it to the noble in question.

He unfolded it and started reading it aloud.

To Sir Caldwell,

I am writing this to inform you that you now have permission to wipe out this so-called She-Wolf and her band. It appears my suspicion was correct and that Francis, son of Lord Crowley of Cumbria, was indeed in that same forest recently and is likely the one in their custody. I have received his personal permission to attack the position, even if it means risking his son's life. He appeared apathetic on the matter, so I am not going to tell you to use caution when attacking the bandits. If you find him alive, all the better, but your main priority is to take care of this nuisance. We will restore peace to these lands.

Signed,

Richard Plantagenet, 3rd Duke of York.

His hands trembled more as he read through it. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"My father... left me to die?" He had to find the nearest chair and sit down. "He could be cold sometimes, but this? This can't be."

"You mentioned something before about him wanting to be rid of you." Morgana said, a rare note of sympathy in her voice. "I guess that confirms your hunch."

"I suppose so..." he rubbed his forehead, trying to make sense of it "that must be why they attacked immediately without even bothering to ask where I was. That's why York was able to send his men here to start with."

Morgana stood silent, as if contemplating what to say. After a moment of stiff silence, she walked to his side and put a hand on his shoulder.

"With a father like that, it's no wonder you came up with that whole lie about being York's son." She said. "I'm never sure what to say at times like this, though I suppose I can relate to having bad parents. Once I got inflicted with lycanthropy, my parents were quick to toss me aside." She chuckled lightly, though whether it was genuine or to hide the pain, he couldn't tell. "I had plenty of brothers and sisters, so it seems I was replaceable in the end."

"I'm sorry." He said, turning his head to look up at her.

"Don't be. I would've been miserable if I'd stayed on that farm. It's dull, nothing but hard work, and the whole time the landlord is taxing you up to your knees. At least now I'm free. But I guess you've got more to lose, eh?"

Francis thought on things further. This all seemed so strange and yet, thinking back on it, it made sense. "Owning land so close to the border with Scotland, and during a time of intermittent conflict with France," he thought "what need does he have for a son such as I? I never had much interest in combat, and even the hunts he took us on often left me squeamish. All that reading I did, he probably thought he'd just send me off to a monastery and not have to worry about me much further after that. Yet, to think he would be so apathetic as to throw my life away. He truly cared for me that little, did he?"

"I'll give you some time to process things." She said, patting him on the shoulder before going to join Faidh. "In the meantime, we need to come up with a plan quickly. We've bought ourselves time, but we're still in a bad position."

The two began deliberating in the background while Francis reflected on things further. Everything around him almost felt unreal, like another dream. One he couldn't wake up from. He almost felt lightheaded, the world around him spinning like a top.

He had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to return home after a point, yet it always felt like an option. Perhaps he could've visited home on occasion when he became a monk, as silly and contradictory as that thought seemed. Perhaps, even after the mess that was their fight with the knights, he could find some way of returning. But now it could not have been more obvious that the door was closed and sealed.

The more he thought about it, the more anger began to well in his heart. As that feeling rose, he began to realize that there was a way to reward his father's apathy. They were a minor noble family to be sure, but his grandfather's frugal spending, combined with the looting garnered from military service, meant that they had a fair amount of wealth. Wealth that would be most enticing to a group of bandits.

There was, of course, the possibility that his older siblings would be home but that seemed unlikely. One had married a duke's daughter, and the other was off fighting the French. Still, he hoped they would understand, because now he was seeing a new opportunity in this darkness.

He rose from his seat and took a deep breath. "Do you remember how I said I could help you?" He asked, finally working up the courage to speak.

"Yes?" Morgana asked, looking behind her. "Do you have an idea?" She sounded intrigued.

He nodded. "Yes, I think I do. Just came up with it now, in fact."

"Well, let's hear it then." Faidh said, sounding amused by the very idea of it.

"I've decided to show Lord Crowley my appreciation for his fatherly affection. I suggest that we raid his castle."

"A castle raid?" Morgana tilted her head. "I appreciate your confidence, but that's a little much for us. Castles aren't easy to break into, and they're more likely to house knights. You already saw how we did against them."

"Perhaps under normal circumstances, but recall that I grew up in this castle. I have spent many evenings wandering its grounds, going back to when I was just a child. I know all the ins-and-outs, and I happen to be aware of several points that will be fairly easy to sneak into. What's more, while our family is not terribly wealthy, we do have some riches worth raiding. Additionally, we have few knights at our disposal. With both stealth and a werewolf on our side, I'm certain we can pull this off."

"Raiding your own home..." she reflected on the idea "seems cold, but I don't blame you. This may well be worth the attempt. This isn't another trick, is it? If you're lying again and you get even more of my people killed in the process, your flesh will be my dinner."

"You have my word."

"Hm..." Faidh crossed his arms and mulled things over. "You really think this will be enough to make up for our previous loss?"

He nodded. "With what's in his coffers, combined with whatever you can pawn off, it may be even more than what you asked for in the ransom letter."

"Even more?" Faidh raised his eyebrows. "You're certain?"

"Absolutely, I have seen it with my own eyes."

"Then this plan has my vote." He looked to Morgana. "Cap'n?"

She crossed her arms and sighed. "It's a risk worth taking. I say we go for this plan, with just one detail." Walking up to him, she lowered her gaze and stared Francis dead in the eyes. "You're coming with us. Boots on the ground, front lines."

"I understand." He said, nodding.

"Now, when should we leave?" Faidh asked, tapping the hilt of his sword. "We'll have to move quickly, a few of the knights fled before we could take care of them. If the Duke of York finds out what happened that night, he'll hunt us down and kill us."

"Yes, we're operating on borrowed time." Turning to face him, she didn't need to think it over for long. "We'll head out tomorrow afternoon. If all goes well, we'll start to disperse the moment we return. Everyone should recuperate and prepare until then." She glanced back at Francis. "By the way, come with me for a minute. You're coming along whether you like it or not, so you'll need a weapon."

He followed her hesitatingly to a wooden rack with various weapons. Observing the options, from swords, axes, hammers and spears, she eventually settled on a polearm. She gave the weapon a look over, the silvery blade glinting in the sunlight. He recognized the spear's jagged end, he remembered one of his brothers calling it a guisarme.

"Here." She handed a spear over to him. "Spears are easy to use, and their long reach will make up for our lack of spare armor. Even you can use a pointy stick, right?"

He held the long wooden staff with a shaky grip. It was heavier than he had imagined. Pointing it forward, he thrusted it with all his strength.

"See? Very simple." She said.

"Thank you. And uhm, I feel like I should ask... what does this mean for us?" He asked, looking up to her.

"What does what mean for us?"

"I mean, this whole operation. I can assure you I was being truthful, and if all goes well, the rest of you can go with the original plan and disperse finally. So, what would that mean for our relationship? Would you forgive me then?"

She went quiet for a moment, as if thinking on what he said. "If this idea of yours pays off, I'll be willing to forgive you." She finally said. "But that is the only condition. Until then, don't expect any more kindness from me. I'm only giving you the weapon so you won't be too much of a burden during the raid."

"I expected as much. But I do wonder if we could possibly run away together?"

"These are all questions for later, don't get ahead of yourself. Just practice with the spear in the meantime." With that, she left him alone.

Standing in silence and clutching the spear's long handle, he began to feel well and truly alone. The autumn breeze had never felt colder.