Andreas glanced over at Brodie.
“He reminds me of you at that age, Dray,” Brodie said, grinning. “So eager. So ridiculous.”
Andreas had known Brodie most of his life. The man was about eight or nine years older than Andreas was, so they’d done much growing up together, as Brodie had served Troy since he had been newly knighted. If Andreas had ever had an older brother, Brodie would be it.
“Ridiculous or not, I’m still better looking than you are,” he said. “I still cannot believe my cousin married you. I thought we’d warned Uncle Scott sufficiently about you.”
Brodie laughed, low in his throat. “Your poison did not take root, thank God,” he said. “Sophia and I are quite happy. I should be an inspiration to you, in fact.”
Andreas looked at him as if he’d said something utterly ridiculous. “Inspiration?” he repeated. “For what?”
“Because I married late in life and I married for love,” he said. “You can, too.”
That stripped Andreas of any hint of humor he might have had. He shut his mouth, facing forward as they drew closer to Falstone. Brodie may have been sociable and outgoing, but he wasn’t insensitive. Like everyone else in the de Wolfe ranks, he knew what had happened to Andreas in London those months back.
He hadn’t meant to hurt the man.
“Dray,” he said softly. “You know I love you. I did not mean that as a flippant comment.”
Andreas nodded. “I know.”
“I meant it as encouragement.”
“That is not necessary,” he said. “Send word back along the lines. I want the wagons moved forward. I want to get those into Falstone’s bailey sooner rather than later. If they’re last in the line, then we may not be able to fit them in at all.”
He was changing the subject and Brodie went along with it, though he felt badly about it. He whirled his horse around and headed back along the column towards the six provisions wagons they’d brought with them. That left Andreas riding point with Will mid-pack and Corey and Reed covering the rear. They weren’t full-fledged knights, but they were properly armed and quite skilled even at their young age. They were so damned excited to be riding with the army that they had obeyed every order Andreas had issued down to the last letter.
They didn’t want to chance being sent home.
Riding alone, Andreas tried not to let Brodie’s comment bother him. He knew the man had meant well. Therefore, he shook it off, as it was becoming easier to shake off those things these days. Thoughts of that woman from London leaving him sitting alone at The Fox and The Wolf were easier to push aside.
He just tried not to think of her at all.
He couldn’t even bring himself to remember her name.
It was better that way.
The storm from the east was moving fast and Andreas had the army pick up the pace as Falstone drew closer. With darkness on the approach, he could see that the gatehouse was open wide because there was a good deal of light from within. The entire fortress glowed against the night sky, the silhouettes of soldiers standing at the gates.
Andreas pushed his men until they were essentially running and they began pouring in through the gatehouse. The wagons, with the horses running, charged up through the column and into the open bailey, with Corey and Reed on their excitable horses escorting the charge.
Very quickly, the bailey of Falstone began to fill up, but the Falstone men were ready. They had the wagons continue to the stables while the men were organized into groups, each group with several Falstone soldiers to assist them. By the time Andreas came to the gatehouse, the last of his army was pouring in, with Will yelling encouraging insults to keep them moving. The man had quite a talent for bellowing insults, getting the men moving but in a way that was both threatening and encouraging. That was his gift. When the last man entered the bailey, Andreas and Will followed.
The massive gates shut behind them.
Andreas was met by Gareth and another knight he didn’t recognize.
“Dray,” Gareth said. “This is Sir Lukas de Dere, commander of Falstone. De Dere, this is my half-brother, Andreas de Wolfe. Our father is Troy de Wolfe, Lord Braemoor.”
Andreas dismounted his steed, greeting the blue-eyed, handsome young knight. “My lord,” he said. “You received my missive?”
Lukas nodded. “We did, earlier today,” he said. “We are grateful for your presence, of course, but will you provide me with the details of what is occurring that we should need such reinforcements? We’ve seen nothing at all in our lands that could be interpreted as threatening.”
Andreas handed the reins of his horse over to Gareth. “I would be happy to tell you everything,” he said. “May I make sure my men are well-tended first? It looks as if a storm is approaching from the east.”
Gareth answered, “We have the men pitching tents already, Dray,” he said. “De Dere showed us where we could set up our encampments.”
“We are going to be crowded, but manageable,” Lukas said. “Food is being prepared for your men and they will have a hot meal within the hour. We’re moving the horses and wagons into the stable yard as we speak.”
It sounded like everything was being taken care of and Andreas nodded. “You have my thanks,” he said, returning his focus to Gareth. “I will go with Sir Lukas. Tell Brodie I want him to oversee the settling of the men and send him and Will to me when they are finished.”
Gareth nodded. “Where will you be?”
Andreas looked at Lukas for that answer. “In the great hall,” he said. “It is on the other side of the keep. Some of your men may sleep there if they wish. It will probably be warmer than the tents.”
Andreas nodded. “That is appreciated,” he said, glancing at Gareth. “Go about your business. I will see you later.”
With that, he followed Lukas towards the great hall as the wind began to pick up. Already, little white flakes of snow were blowing around, indicative of the incoming storm.
“This weather has not stopped the Scots?” Lukas asked.
Andreas pulled off his helm before they reached the enormous doors to the hall, running a gloved hand through his damp hair.
“Nothing stops them,” he said ironically. He took a second look at Lukas. “I do not believe you and I have met before.”
Lukas nodded. “I do not believe so, either, though we may have attended a few battles together,” he said. “Falstone never seems to be involved in much. We’re not as large as the de Wolfe properties and the Scots do not seem to be much interested in us.”
They entered the hall at that point, met by the warm, stale air from two large hearths blasting out flames and sparks. When they reached a table next to one of the hearths, Andreas set his helm on the tabletop and began to remove his cloak.
“That is a fair assessment,” he said. “I’ve never heard of much action at Falstone. You’re in your own little valley here, which is a good thing unless the Scots decide to use it in their trek south.”
“And that is what you are afraid of?”
Andreas hung his cloak on a peg next to the hearth. “Possibly,” he said. “You asked for the details of what has happened and I can tell you this – we have a clan war on our hands with Clan Maxwell against Clan Elliot and Clan Johnstone, and anyone else they feel who has wronged them. It’s a situation that seems to be growing until no one will remember how it even started. Eight days ago, they burst over the border and we spent almost a week chasing them back over. My grandfather has twenty-five thousand men in and around Castle Questing, enough to send a serious message to the Scots. We will not tolerate their foolery. I am here in case they decide to head into England via this route. We do not want Falstone to fall victim to their rampage.”