by Speer, Flora
“Good idea.” Magnus stepped through the doorway, his large form blotting out the light from the storage room.
Lilianne was by now well down the passageway. Braedon was correct; the low roof was draped with cobwebs hanging from the wooden beams placed long ago to brace the roof and the sides of the tunnel. The floor was clear, except for one spot where rocks had fallen from the roof, cluttering the way.
“I had forgotten how low the ceiling is,” Lilianne remarked. “Don't be afraid, Alice.”
“I am not afraid,” Alice responded. “This is an exciting adventure.”
“Now that,” said Braedon with a laugh, “is not a remark I'd expect to hear from a novice nun.”
“I was never a willing novice,” Alice told him.
Braedon paused to assist Alice cross the fallen rocks, using one hand while with the other hand he held the torch high to shed as much light as possible on the scene. Lilianne hiked up her woolen skirts and scrambled over the rough patch without any help.
“Magnus,” Braedon called, “take care here.”
“I see the problem.” Magnus had reached the rock fall. He was bent almost double to avoid cracking his skull on the ceiling, and Lilianne could only wonder at the apparent ease with which he continued to carry her uncle.
“Go on ahead,” Magnus ordered. “I'll wait here for William. He's not far behind.”
“Are you sure it’s William coming after us?” Alice asked.
“Who else could it be?” Lilianne asked. “All of Uncle Erland's people are still asleep.”
“I do hope so,” Alice said nervously.
“I thought you weren't afraid,” Lilianne teased.
“I'm not,” Alice asserted. “I just want William to be safe.”
“Well, well!” exclaimed Braedon, straightening to his full height. “Look at this.”
The tunnel ended in a wide, high cave that had been carved by the sea centuries in the past. A few chests and baskets stood about on the sandy floor of the cave and the burnt-out ashes of an old fire lay near a pool of brackish water that showed green in the torchlight.
“It would appear,” said Magnus, looking around as he reached the cave, “that the lords of Manoir Sainte Inge once engaged in smuggling. And possibly still do,” he added with a glance at one of the large chests.
“Actually,” Lilianne said, “I believe the local folk did the smuggling, while the lords pretended not to notice.”
“And took a portion of the smuggled goods as payment for their silence?” Magnus suggested, smiling a little.
“Very likely,” Lilianne agreed, not at all abashed by the idea. Smuggling was an old tradition with its own code of honor. But her thoughts were on more recent business. “You know, Magnus, after we came through that supposedly unused door so easily, I have to wonder if some of Erland's mysterious visitors use this cave as a secret way into the manor when they meet him. I have occasionally noticed him in the kitchen, and once in the storeroom when he had no reason to be there. I can't be positive, of course. I know better than to question Erland about what he’s doing. His temper is always short.”
“A charming man, from all I've heard and seen of him,” Magnus said sarcastically. He shifted the inert man lying over his shoulder, redistributing Erland's weight. “Let's not dawdle here. We don't want to meet any of your uncle's associates. They would most likely ask embarrassing questions.”
By this time William had joined them in the cave. Lilianne did not fail to notice how Alice blushed when William offered her his arm for support.
Lilianne could hear the surf crashing outside the cave even before she saw the foaming waves and the pearly sheen of the beach. Memory pierced her heart as she recalled her father standing beside her to watch the sun set. Tears prickled at her eyelids, but she refused to give way to the old grief.
She bent her head and stepped out of the cave. Magnus grunted as he also stooped low to join her. Sudden blackness loomed behind them when Braedon and William doused their torches in response to Magnus's command. Then they were all outside, blinking a little while their eyes adjusted to the dimming light of a midsummer evening.
The tide was low, so the beach stretched before them in a damp, silvery swathe. The full moon was lightly veiled in mist and a short distance out to sea a bank of fog lurked. Having grown up beside the water, Lilianne knew the fog would move inland until Manoir Sainte Inge was muffled in it.
“We'd best hurry,” Magnus said quietly. “The Daisy is waiting out there and I mean to be safely aboard ship while we can still find her.”
He started off across the dry upper part of the beach. Directly below the manor, in a spot where it couldn't be seen from above, a rowboat lay tucked into the tall grasses that grew on the sand dunes. Braedon and William each caught a side of the little craft to pull it out of the grass.
“You cannot expect to carry all of us in that tiny thing!” Alice exclaimed.
“We didn’t expect to carry you and Lilianne at all,” Magnus responded. “You may stay behind, if you'd rather take your chances with Erland's men.”
“No.” Alice swallowed hard. “I will go with you, Sir Magnus. Just tell me what you want me to do.”
“Stay out of the way until the boat is in the water,” Magnus commanded. “You, too, Lilianne.”
Magnus dumped Erland into the bottom of the rowboat. Then he and the other two men began to drag the boat across the beach to the sea.
Lilianne lifted her skirts high, tucking the folds of wool into her belt. She removed her cloak, tugged off her shoes and stockings, and tossed everything into the rowboat on top of Erland. Thus prepared, she caught the side of the boat to help the men pull it along.
“Stand back,” Magnus ordered when he noticed what she was doing.
“I grew up here by the sea,” she protested, still digging her feet into the sand as she continued to haul on the side of the boat. “I’m taller than most men, and as strong as many. I know how to swim, and I can row, too, if you'll let me.”
“Let her help, if she wants,” Braedon said. “We don't have time to stand here arguing. The fog is moving in fast.”
Magnus made no reply to Braedon's urgent remarks, but neither did he refuse Lilianne's assistance, so she kept pulling on the side of the rowboat until they reached the water.
“We're almost deep enough to clear the bottom,” Braedon said to her, his teeth flashing in a quick smile.
Lilianne smiled back at him just as an incoming wave caught the rowboat, lifting it high. The men held fast, but Lilianne was distracted by Braedon. The wooden rail slid along her palm and a splinter rammed into the base of her thumb. Smothering a cry of pain, she let go of the boat.
William had left the boat, too. Striding back up the beach he caught Alice in his arms and carried her across the wet sand and into the water, to place her gently on the forward bench. While Magnus and Braedon steadied the craft, William climbed in and picked up an oar.
Lilianne was standing in swirling water up to her knees, with her injured hand at her mouth when Magnus stepped to her side and swept her off her feet. Forgetting her sore thumb she clutched at him, wrapping both arms around his neck. She was so close to him that she could see the bristly beginning of his dark beard. She was intensely aware of his body warmth and of the clean, masculine smell of him. A feeling of lightness and of feminine delicacy pervaded her entire being while she lay cradled in his embrace. For tall, sturdy Lilianne it was a lovely and unfamiliar sensation, and it was over too soon.
Magnus lowered her into the bow of the rowboat next to Alice. Then he grabbed the rail and vaulted over the side. Braedon and William were already rowing, sitting together on the aft bench with one man to an oar. With the lithe grace that Lilianne had noticed earlier that evening, Magnus settled himself on the bench directly in front of her to work the second pair of oars. Seizing an oar in each of his big hands, he began to row.
In fascination Lilianne watched his hands grasping the thick oars.
With his back to her she was able to see how his straining muscles pulled the fabric of his tunic tight across his shoulders at every stroke he took. He was so large, and so very strong. Remembering the strength of his arms supporting her, she shivered.
“Put your cloak on again,” Alice said, “before you catch a chill.”
“Here you are.” Braedon took one hand off his oar to toss her bundled-up garments back to her.
“Keep your voices down, all of you,” Magnus warned in a rough whisper. “Sound carries across water. I'd like Erland's disappearance to remain a mystery for as long as possible.”
“His men-at-arms have already noticed something amiss,” Lilianne said, leaning forward to speak softly into Magnus's ear. “I see lights on the manor walls and you are right about voices carrying. I can hear men talking.”
“Yes, they’re all awake by now and wondering what has happened.” Magnus turned his face toward Lilianne. “Thanks to your quick thinking, they won't find us.”
His lips were so close to hers that by moving an inch or so forward when he moved back while rowing, she could have kissed him. If she were daring enough. But she wasn't quite that adventurous. To cover her confusion at the realization of how very much she wanted to kiss Magnus and to taste his response, she spoke the first sensible thought that came into her mind.
“If they know of the passage and think to investigate it, they'll see our footprints on the beach, and they'll notice where the boat keel was dragged across the sand to the water.”
“True, if they know about the passage. Most likely, your uncle has kept it a secret. You saw how the barrels were blocking the door. As for the beach, they can't see much until dawn, and by that time the tide will be high. Then, there’s the fog to reckon with. Even a man in the tower looking out on the seaward side won't be able to see through the fog.” As if to emphasize his words a wisp of fog drifted over the rowboat.
“Oh, no one ever goes to the tower,” Lilianne said. “Not since my father died. You'd think Erland would keep watchmen on duty there, but he doesn't.” Glancing toward the tall structure that crowned the walls of Manoir Sainte Inge, she noticed a thin line of something pale extending downward along the side of the tower that faced the sea. It looked almost like a wide crack in the stone or, perhaps, a heavy cord. She squinted, trying to see better, but the odd effect vanished in the gathering mist and Lilianne discounted what she had seen.
Magnus took another mighty stroke with the oars, leaning backward as he pulled. “Lilianne,” he said, very softly.
“Yes?” She kept her voice as low as his.
“Sit back, stay quiet, and let me row without distraction.” He leaned forward, preparing to pull again.
“Do I distract you?” she asked in some surprise, and waited for his reply until the rhythm of the stroke brought him closer.
“You know you do.” His whisper was fierce. “I have a ship to find, and with this fog coming in, it won't be easy. Now, stop talking.”
Lilianne could see why locating the ship wasn't going to be a simple task. The fog bank rolled right over them, blotting out all trace of Manoir Sainte Inge, though the voices of her uncle's men-at-arms still sounded remarkably loud.
She pulled her second-best cloak around her shoulders and sat back on the bench as Magnus had ordered. Alice took her hand and the two of them stayed silent, gazing into the thick, damp grayness.
Chapter 3
Because it was June, daylight lingered until late, and on clear evenings a soft glow suffused both land and sea. Even foggy weather did not produce complete darkness. Still, the fog through which they were passing was so thick that Lilianne was soon confused as to which way they were heading. She began to fear they would miss the ship they were supposed to be meeting and Magnus and his friends would continue to row straight out into the middle of the Narrow Sea that lay between France and England – or, worse, they'd row back to land without knowing it and her uncle's men would be waiting to capture them as soon as they reached the shore.
She was distracted from her worry when Alice groaned and made a sudden movement on the bench.
“What's wrong?” Lilianne asked, reaching to draw her friend back to the middle of the bench. Alice fought her off, leaning away from Lilianne so she could hang her head over the side of the rowboat.
“I knew this would happen,” Alice gasped. “Every time I venture onto the water, even just crossing a river by ferry—”
“Keep quiet and sit still,” Magnus snapped. “I'm trying to get our bearings and I have to do it by sound.”
“Alice can't help it,” Lilianne told him. “She suffers from mal de mer. This is the first time she has agreed to board a boat since she came to Manoir Sainte Inge.”
“Wonderful,” Magnus retorted with scathing sarcasm. “This mission grows ever more delightful.”
“Have you no sympathy?” Lilianne demanded.
“Not at the moment. If you two don't stop making so much noise, I'll toss both of you overboard.”
“You wouldn't!”
Magnus didn't answer. He stopped rowing and sat very still. Braedon and William stopped rowing, too. Alice temporarily ceased retching and leaned her head on Lilianne's shoulder. An eerie silence descended as the fog wrapped ever more closely around them.
At first Lilianne heard nothing. It was so quiet that she was aware of William drawing a long breath and of the slight creak of the bench he was sitting on when he turned to look at Alice. Then a low voice sounded across the water. Someone was singing a decidedly off-color sailor's chant that was similar to a tune Lilianne had occasionally heard French fishermen sing. She also caught a faint whiff of fish. Finally, she heard Magnus's soft laugh of relief.
“I believe we’ve found the ship,” she said. “Is the song a signal? What a clever idea; anyone who is pursuing us won’t suspect they are calling to you.”
Magnus didn’t respond. He and the other men began rowing once more, quickening their strokes until the rowboat seemed to fly across the water.
Still with one arm on Alice's shoulders, Lilianne turned to peer through the fog ahead. The soft chanting grew louder and soon she could discern a dark shape looming before them. The fishy smell became stronger.
“Captain Piers has apparently taken advantage of the fog to move the Daisy closer to shore,” Braedon announced after a quick look over his shoulder. “The ship is directly ahead.”
“Good,” Magnus said, never breaking his steady, stroking rhythm on the oars.
“We're almost there,” Lilianne reported a few minutes later.
Magnus just grunted in reply.
By the time the rowboat drew alongside the larger vessel the smell of fish was almost overwhelming even to Lilianne, who possessed a strong stomach. Alice was groaning repeatedly. It was obvious that the owner of the ship had a wry sense of humor. The Daisy was anything but fresh.
In the thick fog Lilianne could see little of the ship except that her sides were draped with nets against which the rowboat bumped when the men shipped the oars. Someone above hailed them in a muted voice, to which Magnus responded with equal softness. A line was thrown down to them, which Braedon seized and used to secure the rowboat.
A second line appeared, and this Magnus fastened around Erland's chest under his armpits. Erland moaned as Magnus shifted him around, but otherwise he gave no indication he was aware of what was happening.
“He will be hoisted aboard,” Magnus explained to Lilianne. “It's easier and safer than trying to carry him. He won't be harmed. There's a bunk waiting for him, where he'll remain until we reach England. Can you climb the net?”
“Yes, of course,” she answered, not wanting to reveal that, for all her years of youthful play on the water, she had never boarded a ship by way of a net.
“I can't,” Alice whispered. Meeting the hard look Magnus sent her way, she revised the statement. “I mean, I've never tried. Perhaps, I can.”
“I'll help you,” William offered.
“It's easy,” Lilianne assured her friend. Grabbing her shoes, she stuffed her stockings into them, used the laces to tie them together, and secured them to her belt. With the purse already fastened to her belt and her damp skirts still tucked up, the weight around her middle was growing heavy, but she wanted her hands free.
“Braedon will go first,” Magnus instructed. “Alice will go next, with William behind her in case she needs help. Then Lilianne. I'll go last, so I can watch over Erland and make sure he isn't injured on the way up. We need him healthy and able to talk,” he said to Lilianne.
Braedon scrambled up the net as if he’d been doing it all his life. William sent Alice immediately after Braedon and a little to one side of him. When she froze halfway up the net, Braedon reached down his hand for her to clasp, while William gently urged her onward from below. Alice gave voice to just one terrified sob before she continued on her way.
Meanwhile, Magnus held tightly to the net, keeping the rowboat in place at the side of the Daisy.
“Your turn,” he said to Lilianne. “Get on board as fast as you can. Captain Piers will want to depart as soon as possible.”
Lilianne threw the folds of her cloak back over her shoulders. Stretching both arms up as high as she could, she grasped the net. She placed her bare feet into the net, curling her toes around the crosswise ropes and slowly lifted herself upward.
“Don't look down,” Magnus warned. “Just keep moving.”
Raising his voice, he gave an order to someone on the deck above and the line holding Erland tightened. Lilianne disobeyed Magnus to look down as Erland's unconscious form was lifted out of the rowboat. She was only a few feet above the little craft and looking back wasn't at all frightening. Magnus began to climb along with his prisoner, using one hand as needed to steady Erland's body and keep him from banging against the ship. Quickly, before Magnus could notice she had stopped, Lilianne continued upward.
