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The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One) Page 5

“Sir Templar,” the Abbess said with an impatient smile. She was still angered by being made to wait outside. “What did she say?” she moved towards him and Galeren found himself trying to avoid her proximity. He stepped around her to create distance and meeting her eyes smiled to reassure her as was necessary.

  “Poor child,” he said, “’twas as I suspected, a harrowing experience that thwarted her memory of it.”

  “What did she tell you happened then?” the Abbess said hungrily, her eyes gleamed zealously. Galeren took a deep breath; he wanted out of this place and away from this crone but knew he would leave suspicion if he left without offering the Abbess some explanation to quell her interest. “A fiend with a vicious companion, no less,” he shrugged, “’tis a tale in itself.”

  “Pray, sir, explain yourself. I am a woman who does not, thankfully, have the imagination of young Catherine.”

  “It is true she was attacked and by a man who was accompanied by a large and viciously trained hound. This creature is most likely the brute’s protection and may be used in his misdeeds to deter the intervention of others. The tanner was not deterred and to his detriment, I am afraid.”

  The Abbess put her hand up to her mouth. “’Tis a true horror!” she said aghast. “And what is to be done?” her voice was full of concern.

  “This is a matter for the Temple to settle and it will be settled swiftly,” Galeren said, “pray do not fear or fret, expel it from your mind. Only,” he said with caution in his voice, “keep Catherine in her present confinement and do not let her leave the convent under any circumstances.”

  “Of course,” the Abbess said, “I should think that none here would wish to leave the safety of the convent with such a villain free to roam. I pray that you will inform us as soon as the matter is settled for no less than our own peace of mind.”

  “Have no doubt I will inform you first.” Galeren said with an earnest smile and the Abbess returned a smile of thanks. “If you need to speak with Catherine again –”

  “I will not.” Galeren said cutting her off. “My questioning was thorough. Just keep her within these walls. Now, we must make haste. Thank you, Abbess, for your time and patience and God be with you.”

  “And also with you.” The Abbess smiled. Galeren turned swiftly and motioning to Parsifal with a curt nod he swept away down the hall like the wind. Parsifal broke into a jog to catch him up and only when they were outside said, “If I may ask, sir, what was all that about?”

  “Christ on the Cross!” Galeren cried out as he mounted his horse, “Damn!” he said wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Parsifal looked at him bemused yet eager to know what was afoot, “Master Galeren, are you alright?”

  “No,” Galeren said reining his horse forward, “let’s get out of here.” He spurred his horse into a gallop and tore away down the dirt road leaving Parsifal once again behind, uninformed and forced to catch up.

  “Where is the nearest convent to here?” the dark knight shouted as he downed his ale and raised his tankard into the air motioning for another. The inn keeper quickly refilled his cup and looked at him slightly amused but instantly knew that it was a mistake. The knight’s eyes were green but had a deep darkness, which like an abyss, offered no hope of light.

  “Did I say something to amuse you, you fat fuck?” he raised his eyebrows waiting for the inn keeper’s answer.

  “Nay, sir, just it seems…well a little…um…” he chuckled nervously.

  The dark knight frowned, “Spit it out dullard before I do something you’ll regret.”

  “No offence sir but you and your men have enjoyed every whore in the place, time over. The whereabouts of a convent seems, well…”

  “Cannot a loving brother pay a visit to his beloved sister?” the stranger said to the whole room, his voice was sinister and revealed that he was anything but a loving brother. His men, the only other company, laughed at this which only added to the inn keeper’s unease.

  “Please sir, I meant no offence.” He almost stuttered.

  “I’m sure not and here’s to prove it. I’ll have that dark haired wench again this eve, what was her name, Alais? That may ease the insult.”

  “If it pleases you.” The inn keeper said nervously.

  “A little,” he banged his tankard down, “if the bitch does my bidding. Even so,” he bellowed to his men laughing like a jackal, “it’s not like the real thing, eh?”

  His men cackled back their agreement in their drunken stupor.

  “I am not sure what you mean, sir.” The inn keeper said quickly refilling his cup and moving to do the same for his men.

  “Better you do not. Just keep the ale flowing, the whores eager and your mouth shut. Your coffers will be well filled for your trouble. Oh,” he said slurping his ale, “and tell me where that convent is.”

  “’Tis on the road back towards Temple Bruer. St Catherine’s is the name. Your sister is there?”

  “Yes,” the knight said, “it’s a surprise.” He looked up at the inn keeper and winked. His smile was like pure evil, the inn keeper shuddered for he was sure that he had no sister there. He could have lied about the name and whereabouts of the convent, but the sooner this dog and his brutish men were gone the better and he didn’t want to give them an excuse to return.