by Speer, Flora
“That’s not our doing,” Braedon said.
“No, it isn't,” she admitted. “But Lord Royce holds the power to force Erland to reveal where Gilbert is confined.” She fell silent then, and spent the rest of the journey formulating the appeal she intended to make to Lord Royce.
* * * * *
They came upon Richton Castle without warning. The road dipped low between rolling, heavily forested hills. Then, abruptly, the trees were gone, cut down to clear the area immediately surrounding the castle for farming and to prevent an enemy from approaching too closely without being seen. Richton was built of grey stone, with a wide moat of dirty water and a full force of sentries posted along the battlements. More armor-clad men guarded the gatehouse.
Lilianne heard the portcullis falling shut behind them and the slam of the gatehouse doors closing. She could not help thinking about a captive’s feelings upon being shut into Richton, to be imprisoned there for an indefinite time. Yet no sympathy for her uncle intruded on her thoughts.
As soon as they reached the inner bailey, Erland was pulled off his horse and hustled up the steps to the keep. Lilianne made haste to follow.
Once inside the keep, Magnus did not tarry. The men-at-arms who were gathering for the midday meal made way for the tall knight who led his prisoner down the length of the great hall and up a short flight of stairs at the rear. Braedon and William stayed close beside the ladies, guiding them in Magnus's tracks.
Lord Royce awaited them in the solar at the top of the stairs. Lilianne was certain he had been apprised of their arrival, for he stood with his back to the three narrow windows that provided light to the solar. It was impossible to see his face clearly, and she would have wagered any sum that he deliberately stood where he did. Erland would have done the same, were he receiving a prisoner.
She had an impression of a tall, broad shouldered man with red-gold hair on which the sunlight glinted. She noticed the quick turning of his head when she reached the final step to the solar, and she concluded that he was surprised to see a woman.
The baron of Wortham wasn't as tall as Magnus. Still, his physical strength was readily apparent and Lilianne sensed something more in him, a power of his mind that compelled others to do his bidding. It was the kind of power Erland liked to pretend he possessed. Lilianne understood at once, even before she saw him clearly that, unlike her uncle, Lord Royce did not require men-at-arms to back up his orders. His strength of will was enough.
“Here he is, my lord,” Magnus said, pulling Erland forward with a firm hand on his arm.
“Well done, Magnus. Welcome to Richton, Count Erland. I trust you will enjoy your stay here.” Royce's voice was as pleasant as if he was a host greeting an honored guest. He turned his head again as Alice and William entered the solar. In that moment Lilianne saw the cold glitter in his grey-green eyes and knew, as Erland must also have known, that Royce was more jailor than host. Braedon was right to say Royce would never allow her uncle an opportunity to escape, or even to send a message to France.
“Your henchmen have used me badly,” Erland complained, scowling at Royce. “One of them struck me. My head still aches from the blow.”
“I assume he resisted you?” Royce said to Magnus.
“Though Erland plainly meant to fight, we didn't give him the chance,” Magnus replied. “We were pressed for time and we wanted him quiet.”
“Understandable,” Royce said, nodding.
“Furthermore,” Erland continued as if the interruption to his complaints had not occurred, “your hirelings seduced my foolish niece into helping them.”
“Indeed?” Royce raised an eyebrow and looked at Lilianne.
“I was not seduced,” she stated firmly, “nor was my companion. Sir Magnus and his friends have been far more kind to us than Uncle Erland ever was.”
“Lilianne, you nitwit, be silent!” Erland shouted. “You are a disgrace to the name of Sainte Inge. I intend to see you severely punished for what you've done.”
“Your family disputes will have to wait, Count Erland,” Royce said, all trace of politeness gone from his voice. “Sir Magnus and Sir Braedon will conduct you to the rooms prepared for you. I will speak with you again, later.”
At a gesture from Royce the two men escorted Erland down the stairs. Once they were gone, Royce moved away from the window to lay a hand on William's shoulder and Lilianne was able to see him clearly at last. She marveled at his good looks and ready smile – and she realized with considerable surprise that she greatly preferred Magnus's dour darkness to this older man's bright charm.
“I will hear your report now, William,” Royce said in a friendly way. “Kindly include a suitable explanation for the presence of two ladies in your party.”
“I can explain that,” Lilianne offered.
“So you will, after William has spoken,” Royce told her, fixing her with a cool glance that invoked silence until he was ready to hear her.
William recounted the tale in quick, simple sentences, leaving nothing out while not embroidering the facts with conjecture or supposition. Listening to him, Lilianne realized why Royce favored him as captain of the men-at-arms at Wortham Castle. William was honest and straightforward enough to meet any lord’s requirements for important service.
“It’s your turn now, Lady Lilianne,” Royce said. He listened without interruption to her more emotional version of events, which included Alice's story, as well as her own and her brother's.
“My lord,” Lilianne said at the end, “I do implore you to use your influence to convince my uncle to order Gilbert's release. Failing persuasion, I beg you to force him to tell me where he’s holding Gilbert, so I can rescue my poor brother before it's too late.”
“I will do what I can, but I make no promises,” Royce said.
“From the little Count Erland has revealed,” Alice told Royce, “I fear Lilianne is correct. Gilbert's life is in grave danger unless someone acts quickly.”
“I will hear what Magnus and Braedon have to say on the subject when they make their reports to me,” Royce responded. “Now, I must ask you to excuse me while I prepare a letter to King Louis. William, will you see the ladies to the guest chamber on the floor above this?”
Lilianne could tell it was useless to try to argue with Royce. He had his own duties and loyalties, and Gilbert was not one of them. She would have to find a way to help Gilbert on her own.
Richton Castle was intended to confine prisoners securely, not to provide luxurious quarters for noble guests. The room to which William conducted Lilianne and Alice was so small that the curtained bed took up most of the space. A table with a basin on it sat beneath a narrow slit of a window that looked out over green farmlands beyond the castle walls. There was no other furniture, not even a clothing chest. That didn’t matter, for neither woman had any clothing except what they were wearing.
Shortly after William left them a maidservant appeared bearing a pitcher of hot water and two linen towels. These she placed on the table and then departed without offering answers to Lilianne's questions about mealtimes or what she and Alice were expected to do next.
“Someone will come for you,” the woman said as she closed the chamber door.
“Well,” Alice said cheerfully, stretching out atop the bed, “this room is larger and much nicer than my cell at the convent, and the bed is more comfortable than the one Count Erland provided at Manoir Sainte Inge.”
“I cannot stay here,” Lilianne muttered. “I have to find Gilbert.”
“Do, please, be sensible. Lord Royce won't allow you to leave. Even if he would, you cannot go wandering about a strange countryside, all alone.”
“I think Captain Piers liked me. If I could just reach the Daisy, I could sail back to France with him.”
“Not without money.”
“I have some coins.” Lilianne touched the purse secured to her belt.
“You don't know where Gilbert is, so how can you expect to find him?” Propping h
erself on her elbows, Alice sent a shrewd look at Lilianne, then smiled as if she'd had a clever thought. “Why don't you ask Sir Magnus to help you?” “Magnus?” Lilianne could feel her cheeks turning red. She wished Alice would stop smiling at her. “Why should I ask anything of Magnus? He will only command me to obey Lord Royce.”
Alice didn’t answer. She just leaned back against the pillows with her ankles crossed, smiling.
In exasperation Lilianne went to the table and poured water into the basin. It felt good to wash her face and hands, and if her cheeks grew any hotter she could blame it on the steaming water.
“I wish I had a comb,” she murmured.
“Ask Magnus,” Alice said again.
Chapter 7
“That's all of it.” In the solar Magnus finished his report to Royce while Braedon and William listened. “We saw no other choice but to bring the women to England with us. Erland's men-at-arms are a rough crew. I don't like to think about what they'd have done to Lilianne and Alice without Erland present to control them.”
“You did the right thing,” Royce said, “and from what you say, Lady Lilianne did repay you by helping you to leave the manor as quickly as possible.”
“She’s a most resourceful lady,” Magnus agreed, thinking of the amethyst ring Lilianne had tried to bribe him with, the ring that presently lay nestled between her voluptuous breasts, where he would dearly love to rest his face. At the image of his lips and hands caressing Lilianne’s richly rounded flesh, he felt his body quicken. He had to make a serious effort to drag his lusty thoughts away from Lilianne and back to what Royce was saying.
“I have sent a letter to King Louis by way of the Daisy. Captain Piers will leave for France on the evening tide and put my courier ashore at dawn,” Royce said. “Barring some unforeseen mishap, the courier should reach Paris within two or three days. We are fortunate that the calm weather has held, with no storms to disrupt traffic across the Narrow Sea.”
“How soon do you expect a response from King Louis?” Magnus asked.
“Not for two weeks at least, and possibly much longer. But from the moment when the courier places the letter into Louis's hands, we can count Desmond safe from mistreatment. King Henry's avowed interest in Desmond will serve as protection for him.”
“You’re assuming he hasn't already been mistreated,” William said.
Magnus shivered at the words. The involuntary movement produced a faint crackling sound that jogged his memory. To conceal his momentary weakness, he reached beneath his tunic and drew forth the bundle of folded parchments.
“You didn't ask us to purloin documents, but I took these from Erland's desk anyway,” he said, handing the packet to Royce.
“I never quibble when my men exceed their orders by making an intelligent decision.” Royce began to unfold the documents, bestowing a first, cursory glance upon the contents. He went still, frowning in concentration.
“I hope it's useful information,” Magnus said, his imagination stirred by the close way in which Royce was perusing the pages.
“I think so, though at the moment I can't be sure,” Royce said. “These documents are written in code. One sealed note is addressed to Sir Norbard, who, as you know, is my contact at Manoir Sainte Inge.”
“We are almost certain that Norbard is a double agent,” Braedon said.
“I’ve suspected as much for some time,” Royce told him with a quick glance of approval, “so I’ve been using Norbard to feed false information to the French.”
“You could have told us of your suspicions,” Magnus noted.
“You didn't need to know,” Royce said, his gaze still on the documents. “I wonder what Erland wrote to Norbard?”
“Can you break his code?” William asked.
“Given enough time and thought, any code can be broken,” Royce said. He refolded the sheets of parchment and tucked them under his own tunic. “Was Erland unconscious when you took these?”
“Yes. He doesn't know we have them,” Magnus answered, adding, “Lilianne saw me remove them from her uncle's desk, but she hasn't mentioned them since. As for Alice, I'd be surprised if she ever set a foot in that room.”
“Good. Say nothing about the documents to anyone. If Lilianne speaks of them, refer her to me. She’s so worried about her brother that she may have forgotten them.”
“What do you want us to do next?” William asked.
“If you wish, I can send you back to Wortham Castle.”
“No,” William said promptly. “I want to remain here until the mission is ended and Sir Desmond is safely returned to England. You may need me again.”
“Then stay at Richton. I'll be glad to have you here.”
To Magnus's sharp eyes, Royce seemed to be trying not to smile at William's excuses for remaining at the castle. He didn't doubt that Royce had noticed the young man's interest in Alice.
“I’d like to stay, too,” Braedon said, flashing his broadest grin. “After the excitement of the last few days, I find the idea of returning to the royal court too boring to contemplate.”
“Somehow, I thought you'd feel that way.” Royce returned Braedon's smile. “Just remember to guard your every word. The men-at-arms here are carefully chosen and generally trustworthy, but a man who’s in his cups may reveal facts that are better left unspoken. I will tolerate no loose tongues among my agents.” Royce's assessing glance encompassed William as well as Braedon.
“Understood.” Braedon spoke with a crispness at odds with his usually relaxed demeanor. “You may depend upon our discretion, my lord.”
“I intend to take the evening meal here in the solar, with the ladies,” Royce said. “All three of you are welcome to join us. You may go now, except for Magnus.”
When the others were gone Royce patted his tunic until the parchment crackled.
“I must confess,” Magnus said, wondering about the meaning of the amusement he saw in Royce’s eyes, “that I am curious about the contents of those documents.”
“Have you ever tried to break a code?” Royce asked.
“Not a written code. When Desmond and I were children, we invented a secret language to keep the grownups from knowing what we were saying.” Magnus paused, recalling the long-ago time when he and his twin were inseparable.
“Would you like to help me work on this?” Royce asked, his hand still over the parchments.
“Will I be a help, or a hindrance?”
“Let's find out,” Royce said. “Tonight, after the ladies have retired, we will begin.”
* * * * *
Lilianne was feeling untidy, disgruntled, and very hungry. Alice had fallen asleep, and Lilianne tried to be quiet so as not to disturb her. Still, she was so unsettled that she began to pace restlessly back and forth across the small room.
Thoughts of Gilbert, absent from his home for weeks, alone, frightened, and perhaps ill, competed in her mind with more recent impressions of the size and strength, and the obvious good health and vitality of Magnus. She relived again the moments when he had picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all and held her close to his chest. She knew an honest knight when she met one and she believed she could depend on him to help her learn Gilbert’s fate. He’d help her rescue Gilbert, too, if it came to that.
Eventually, worn out by intense and conflicting emotions, she stretched out on the unoccupied side of the bed. She slept until her growling stomach wakened her late in the day. Apparently, the loud sounds emanating from the region of her stomach had also wakened Alice, who rose and went to the table to inspect the basin and the water pitcher.
“It's obvious this castle has no chatelaine,” Alice said, shaking her head in disgust. “In my father's house, guests were always provided with plenty of hot water for bathing and with clean clothes if needed. The single pitcher of water the maidservant brought us is cold now, there is no soap, and my gown is so dirty and wrinkled that it ought to be given away to the poor.”
“Such vanity for a near-
nun,” Lilianne said, chuckling at Alice's vehemence.
“I have no intention of ever becoming a nun.” Alice's retort was sharp. “Nor do I think I am particularly vain. I know I’m no beauty, though I would like to appear to be a respectable maiden.”
“William won’t question your virtue, however wrinkled your gown.” Lilianne got out of bed to join Alice at the table. “We will just have to make do with what we have. There’s a little water left in this pitcher, enough to wash our faces and hands, if we share it carefully. I'll braid your hair if you will braid mine, and we can smooth out each other's gowns with our hands.”
Despite their best efforts, when they reached the solar again Lilianne knew she and Alice looked more like bedraggled beggars than the gently born ladies they were. Nor was her dissatisfaction with her unkempt appearance improved by the frequent rumblings of her empty stomach. Even more annoying was the sight of Magnus, bathed, combed, and looking splendid in clean, unwrinkled garments.
“You're late,” he said in greeting.
“Late for what?” Lilianne asked irritably. “You are the only one present.”
“The others will be here soon,” Magnus promised.
“Dare I hope some of those others will come bearing food?” she snapped. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday noon. Neither has Alice.” Her claim was emphasized by a loud growl from the area of her midriff.
“Why didn't you say something?” Magnus exclaimed.
“You’ve been too busy ordering me about to give me a chance to plead for a crumb of bread.”
“The serving woman whom Royce sent to bid you to the midday meal reported that you and Alice were in bed and fast asleep.” The thought of Lilianne lying relaxed in slumber tugged at Magnus's heart and warmed a part of his body he'd rather not have stirring at the moment. “We decided not to disturb you.”
“We were not asleep at all,” Lilianne informed him. “Alice and I fainted from lack of nourishment.”
