Free Renegade Heart by Kay Ellis Page A

Wolf replied. “I am Wolf of the renegades.”
    “Wolf? An interesting name.” Trobard looked him up and down speculatively. “A strong name for a strong man I’ll wager. You are young to be a leader, Wolf.”
    “I’m no leader.”
    “Is that so? The men look to you for support and guidance. They respect you. I have already seen you put their welfare before your own. Are these not the traits of a leader?”
    Wolf shrugged. “If I was their leader we would not be here.”
    “Ah, you think there is glory to be found only in dying on the battlefield?”
    “More so than swinging from the gallows!”
    Trobard laughed, a strange sound in the dark and miserable dungeon. Several men turned their heads to stare at him surprise. How could a man find anything humorous in such a situation? Unless thirty turns in the depths of the castle had sent the poor fool mad.
    “I like you, young Wolf,” Trobard said, unconcerned by the bemused looks from his fellow prisoners. “Whether you like it or not, you are a leader. And who knows, maybe you will prove to be the salvation of us all.”
     

.11.
     
    I nstructing the whores to stay behind him and allow him to do the talking, Rixley guided the wagons through the forest in search of the renegade camp. Before they reached it, a small group of armed men emerged from the trees and although they greeted Rixley amiably enough, they regarded the second wagon with undisguised suspicion.
    “Back so soon?” one of the men asked frowning up at Rixley. “And leading strangers to our camp too?”
    “They are whores from The Walled City,” Rixley said by way of explanation. “They can do you no harm, Fairac.”
    “Whores? Rixley we have no need of whores. Barely sixty five men survived the battle with the King’s Army. Of those, close to forty are injured, some of them seriously so.”
    “Then we will help you care for them,” Magnosa addressed the renegade, her tone bearing no argument. “We are not simply whores. We can cook and sew and some of us have healing skills. Allow us to tend the wounded while those of you who are able bodied concentrate on getting back the men who were taken prisoner.”
    Fairac studied Magnosa, undecided and unhappy. The truth was the renegades were floundering, having found themselves leaderless. Tregaar and Garstan were among the dead, Saker and young Wolf captured. With so many men injured, Fairac reasoned, they would need all the help they could get even if it did come from a bunch of women. And a child! Women were bad news enough, but a small child in camp was out of the question. He would allow the whores to stay, but Rixley would have to take the child away with him.
    Enola saw the renegade’s expression as he looked at her son and she pulled Hawk to her protectively.
    “This is the son of the renegade Wolf,” Magnosa said, and an audible murmur rippled through the small group of Renegades. “Is he among you?”
    “No,” Fairac shook his head and eyed Enola with sympathy as her face fell with sharp disappointment. “So far as we know he is alive, but he was among the prisoners taken to the King’s City.”
    “Then as I said,” Magnosa stared down her nose at Fairac and he shrank visibly beneath her steely gaze. “Allow my girls to care for the wounded while the rest of you work on a plan to free the captured renegades.”
    With a reluctant nod, Fairac turned and signalled to the other men. They fell back and allowed the wagons to pass, silently observing the women with suspicious glares.
    As soon as they reached the main camp, the girls disembarked and instantly set about making themselves useful. They relieved the men nursing the wounded, who were mostly exhausted and in need of some care themselves. Taola and Krisha took over the camp fire and soon had a cauldron of mouth-watering rabbit stew bubbling furiously over the flames.
    By evening the men were fed and rested, and a strange sense of calm had settled over the camp. A group of