The Birth Of The Beta

20. DANGERS, HOMES AND BLESSINGS

The incident wasn’t mentioned again by anyone, though Pepin and Aoife hadn’t forgotten about it. Thankfully, Antonia had taken Magnus’ words to heart and avoided Aoife at every turn. Unfortunately, the wedding was still being arranged and was planned to take place in three months’ time, so that her father could invite the more influential members of his social groups. The best outcome of all was that, as instructed, the locks had been torn from the gladiator doors. Aoife and Pepin had taken the iron from the locks to the blacksmith, and two new swords had been made from them. Aoife was sure there was some symbolism in this act somewhere, but either way, she felt satisfied when she saw them.

Aoife headed towards the office to give her report to Cornelius. She was glad to have this part of their routine back. She had missed him while he was convalescing. Suddenly, his maniacal screaming from the office made her pause. She wanted to see if Cornelius needed her help, but Antonia’s screeching wasn’t something she wanted to agitate further with her presence.

“I am bringing money, connections, political influence, and many other things to this marriage, for the betterment of your family. How dare you say I’m not right for your son, or Ludus? Your Ludus is this city’s joke. You treat wolves as equals, when we all know that by the end of this year, wolves will either be slaves or dead! That b***h you treat as a daughter, whereas I have suffered nothing but disdain from the moment I came through those doors. You treat that she-wolf better than your own son, and you should be on your knees thanking me for even considering elevating your family to mix with mine!” Antonia ranted.

“If you feel your favours aren’t being appreciated here, Antonia, you are welcome to offer them to a family that has the same limited perspective as your own,” Cornelius sarcastically responded, ignoring her previous diatribe.

“I will be marrying Magnus, who, fortunately, has managed to overcome your inexplicable ideologies. You won’t live forever, Cornelius, and your provocative perspectives will putrefy with you!” Antonia’s raised voice sounded sinister in comparison to her earlier screaming. She slammed the door as she left, so angrily, that she didn’t notice Aoife.

Waiting a moment, so that Cornelius could compose himself, she took a deep breath as she pondered on her words, ‘In a year’s time all wolves will either be slaves or dead’. It was a daunting thought. She went into the office, sitting on the table as usual. The silence was uncomfortable and Aoife had to break it.

“That went well.”

“Don’t,” Cornelius replied, rolling his eyes, clearly thinking he had spent enough time on his soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

After catching upon all of the gladiators’ progress, and discussing who should be selected for which discipline in the arena, Aoife asked the question that had been annoying her since Antonia left.

“Do you think Antonia was right about us all being slaves in a year’s time?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It is possible,” he admitted.

“When we picked up Madla there was a problem at the inn. The tavern keeper wouldn’t let us stay. I told him you wouldn’t buy his wine from him anymore,” Aoife admitted.

“You were right, I won’t”. Cornelius smiled, “We will worry about this tomorrow, tonight let’s celebrate Madla joining us,” Ending the concern, by focussing on the joy. This was always his way.

Madla hadn’t had his welcome party yet, because Cornelius had been sick, so that evening a feast had been prepared to uplift all of the wolves. Cornelius had always said, “when the family comes home you don’t commemorate it with bread and water!’. Aoife had regretted not being able to organise this in Cornelius’ absence when Madla first arrived, but tonight he would get the welcome he deserved.

Winnifred was cooking in the kitchen. She had plenty of help, but was hovering over every cooking pot and fire pit. Her rushed movement and occasional hair pull were the only things suggesting that she found it stressful at times. However, the beaming smile on her face made it clear that she was at her happiest: bossing people about and cooking food. Laid out in the centrepiece was a boiled octopus, stretching its glorious tentacles across the work top. In each segment there was a different ocean delicacy. An entire wooden plank was crowned with an array of cheeses, and the chicken, pheasants and songbirds were being pulled off the spit from the fire pit. It was fit for an emperor. Aoife’s stomach groaned in response to the culinary artwork. She knew the wine would flow in abundance, and laughed at cabbage soaking in vinegar, which was a sworn hangover remedy. Winnifred poured a pan of boiling water down the drain, and the stench of fermented eggs consumed all the fresh air in the culina. Aoife tasted fresh saliva in her mouth before her stomach lost all of its weight, and she vomited into the nearest bucket on the floor. Winnifred ran over with a wet cloth and handed it to Aoife.

“What’s in that? I think your eggs have spoiled, they have poisoned the air,” Aoife informed her.

“They are fresh from this morning, and the air smells of the octopus and ocean more than anything else,” Winnifred frowned in her own defence, although the frown turned into concern when Aoife heaved again.

“Are you OK?” She asked her friend.

“I’m going to get some fresh air. I don’t know what’s wrong. To me, the air smells foul,” She explained, with a shaky smile.

Aoife walked out on to the sands, and sat on the log outside the woodshed. The night was cool and crisp and the nausea was abating as she gulped in the air like fresh water.

“Neve, what was that? Have we eaten something spoiled? Did that b***h, Antonia, finally poison us with wolfsbane to get rid of us?” Aoife began to panic, she was scaring herself because, for the first time ever, she didn’t feel safe at Heaton House.

“We are fine, Aoife, although you might want to start being more careful for our pup,” Neve gushed with exultation.

Tears slowly crept from the corner of Aoife’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks in single file. Quickly, she blocked her link with Pepin, she wanted to tell him when they were alone. She knew he would come looking for her to try and fathom the entanglement of emotions she was experiencing. She was mostly happy and shocked. Most she-wolves were mated in their youth and had many pups at a young age. Aoife was in her thirtieth year, and although she had longed for a child in her life, she had thought that in the absence of a mate (and the fact she had never become pregnant from her previous distractions) that the Goddess had other plans for her. She had been hurt that pups wouldn’t be in her future, but had accepted it over time.

“Neve, our pup is a true blessing. We are so lucky. Is everything OK?” She asked her wolf.

“Everything is perfect, but we need to eat to keep strong,” Neve advised.

In the atrium, the tables were piled with copious amounts of food. Conversations overlapped each other with infectious bursts of laughter breaking through the melody of happiness. She looked over at Madla, who was having his plate filled by his fellow gladiators, while Cornelius filled his goblet with the best wine from the cellar. Madla seemed caught between trying to decide if this was a dream, or reality. Aoife sat next to Pepin, who quickly placed his hand on her thigh as he had done since their first meal together, and she placed her hand atop of his, beyond excited to tell him their news. Cornelius stood up and raised his goblet to Madla. The noise slowly faded as the gladiators turned their attention to him.

“Heaton House is more than a gladiator school. It is a home! Many of you choose to come here because you have nowhere else to go…”

“And you pay us well!” A gladiator called from the table, causing roaring laughter.

“That too,” Cornelius laughed, before continuing, “After a while you stay because this is your new family. Today we welcome a new brother home. You are welcome and you are loved here, but we are not a pack, because there is no alpha. Sometimes Aoife thinks she is one when she makes you run the obstacle course over and over, but you are all free. Never look to me as your master, only as your friend. Madla, I am sorry we couldn’t do this when you first arrived, but from all of us, welcome home!” Cornelius raised his goblet, as the gladiators cheered and slammed their hands on the table.

Madla seemed moved by the speech and the words had resonated with the loneliness he felt. Regretfully, Aoife didn’t feel the same confidence in Cornelius’ words as she used to. Magnus and Antonia were a sickness in this family, and it wouldn’t be long before they infected them all with their hatred.