by Speer, Flora
“Lady Lilianne,” Magnus said, still in that same quiet tone, “I am sure you would like to step into the kitchen and give your personal orders to the servants there to come and clean up the dishes and the spilled food. Sir Braedon will be happy to accompany you, just in case there is any question about the need for prompt action.”
Now she knew what Magnus expected. He wanted her, and Gilbert, to take the tunnel exit out of the manor, with Braedon as their guard. Though she didn't like the idea of leaving Magnus and William behind to face Norbard and the men-at-arms, she did understand that Magnus wanted to know she and Gilbert were safely away. Common sense told her this was not the time to argue.
“What a good idea, Sir Magnus,” she said. Still with her arm on Gilbert's shoulders, she headed for the rear of the hall and the kitchen.
“Halt!” Norbard shouted, as if he had the right to issue orders to Lilianne and Gilbert. “Lady Lilianne, you will be escorted to your bedchamber, where you will remain until Count Erland returns. Since you are so bent upon keeping your brother near, he will stay with you.”
“Go now, Lilianne,” Magnus said.
“No! We will stay and fight,” Gilbert declared, pulling away from Lilianne.
“Will you behave?” she hissed at him. Clamping her fingers tightly around his wrist, she dragged the unwilling boy toward the kitchen door. Gilbert dug in his heels and refused to move.
While Lilianne continued to tug at her brother's wrist, William grabbed Gilbert's other arm. Still holding his sword in his free hand, William gave a hard jerk that propelled Gilbert into the kitchen. Magnus backed slowly toward the kitchen doorway, keeping a wary eye on Norbard.
Upon seeing armed men bursting in on them, the servants scattered out of range of the broadswords. Braedon raced through the kitchen like a human whirlwind, pausing only to snatch a lighted torch from the wall on his way to the steps leading to the storeroom. Down the stairs he ran, to begin heaving baskets and barrels aside in his haste to reach the tunnel entrance before Norbard could catch them. Lilianne and William followed, both still holding onto the protesting Gilbert.
“You cannot make me leave!” Gilbert yelled at the top of his lungs. “This is my home, and I will defend it against Norbard and his minions!” He tried again to break free, nearly knocking his sister and William off the steps in his frantic efforts.
Somehow, the three of them reached the bottom of the staircase without falling and with Gilbert still held tightly. Magnus came just behind them.
“Guard our backs,” Magnus said to William.
“Aye, gladly. This boy is naught but a nuisance.” William released Gilbert, who promptly wrenched his arm out of Lilianne's grip. With tears streaming down his face, Gilbert tried to push past Magnus.
“Gilbert, what’s wrong with you?” Lilianne cried. She lunged toward him, but he slipped away from her.
Magnus caught him before he could reach the steps to the kitchen, stopping the boy in his tracks, enfolding him in strong arms and holding him close, though Gilbert was screaming and pummeling the large man with both fists.
“I don't know why he’s being so naughty,” Lilianne said. “I’ve never seen him like this. Oh, Gilbert, do be quiet! Magnus is trying to help us.”
Braedon tore open the tunnel door, pushed Lilianne through the doorway, and handed her the torch he had seized during his rapid sprint through the kitchen. Magnus went through next, with the still-struggling Gilbert clamped against his side.
From the kitchen above came the sounds of booted feet, and of Norbard's voice, issuing orders.
“He has rallied the men-at-arms,” Braedon noted. “If we don't hurry, we'll have to fight in the tunnel, which I would rather not do. There's little space in there to swing a sword.”
“William!” Magnus called. “Shove a few of those storage barrels into the tunnel. We can use them to block the door.”
By now Gilbert hung limply in Magnus's grip, weeping and shuddering.
“Take him,” Magnus said, handing the boy to Lilianne. He returned to the tunnel entrance to help Braedon and William. Before Norbard and the men-at-arms could reach the tunnel door, it was barricaded by as many barrels as William had been able to thrust into the tunnel. Someone began to pound on the latched door, the sound echoing along the tunnel.
“I think Gilbert has fainted,” Lilianne said as Magnus rejoined her. “Can you carry him? He's too heavy for me. Magnus, I am sorry for the way he keeps delaying us.”
“He has reached the end of his endurance,” Magnus said. “He's weakened by lack of food, and I'm sure he spent every day of his imprisonment thinking of ways to wrest his rightful inheritance back from Erland. No wonder he doesn't want to leave. He fears he'll never see his home again.”
“You are remarkably understanding.” Lilianne watched Magnus pick Gilbert up and cradle him against one shoulder as lightly as if her brother were still an infant.
He glanced from his companions to the tunnel door, where Norbard's men were still pounding so hard that one of the stacked barrels suddenly broke loose and rolled down the tunnel.
“That is just the first piece of the barricade to go,” Magnus noted. “The rest won’t hold for long. Still, Norbard should be delayed long enough for us to get away, provided we don't linger. We'll head for the beach and hide among the dune grasses until we can reach the woodland beyond. Pray that the sentries at the gate are directing their attention to the road and not to the seashore.”
Chapter 15
“Magnus, wait.” Lilianne caught his sleeve to slow his progress along the tunnel to the beach beyond. “Either Norbard knows about the main tunnel, or he knows enough to make an accurate guess, but he cannot be as familiar with the tunnels as I am. He didn't grow up at Manoir Sainte Inge. I did.”
“Tunnels?” Magnus repeated. “You did mention once before that you played all over the manor as a child. Are you saying there's more than one tunnel?”
“This is the largest and the easiest to use, but there are others beneath the manor. It's a very old house, after all. I remember a passage that opens on the opposite side of the manor from the exit we used the last time. If we take that alternate way out, and Norbard thinks we've left through the cave, he and his men will be searching the wrong beach while we escape. The cliff will stand between us and him.”
“Show us the other tunnel,” Magnus responded.
“As soon as we are inside it, we ought to douse the torch, so the light doesn't shine through the entrance and alert Norbard,” Lilianne said. She was already walking forward along the main passageway, looking for the opening she recalled from earlier years. “We'll have to hold onto each other so we don’t get lost, but I'm sure I can find the way to the outside.”
By this time Braedon and William had joined them and Lilianne could see their tense faces in the flickering light of the torch she was holding. Another barrel rolled down the tunnel.
“You expect us to get out of here in total darkness?” William exclaimed. “I prefer to make a stand where we are, where only one or two men can attack us at once.”
“This tunnel isn’t wide enough for a decent swordfight,” Braedon objected. “If Norbard sends men down to the beach to come into the tunnel through the cave, we’ll be trapped between two forces.”
“We don't have time for a discussion about this,” Magnus said, his firm voice reminding them who their leader was. “The decision is made. Lilianne, put out the torch.”
“I'll do it in just a moment,” she said. While Magnus and the others waited she moved ahead, lifting the torch to illuminate the tunnel wall. “The side tunnel we want opens just beyond a fold in the rock. But there are several openings along here, and I want to be sure I've found the right one.
“Here it is,” she called softly. “Magnus, the opening isn't very large. You will have to squeeze through.”
“I'll take Gilbert,” Braedon offered, “and pass him into the opening after you are inside.”
The en
trance to the secondary tunnel was twice as tall as Magnus, but extremely narrow. He had to wriggle his way through, and at one point his sword got stuck. Lilianne heard a few choice oaths before he called back that he had reached a larger space. Braedon handed Gilbert through the opening and Lilianne followed. She held the torch high, letting the men see the tunnel and get their bearings until William joined them.
When a loud rumbling sound indicated that the rest of the barrels were rolling down the main tunnel to the cave at its end, Lilianne extinguished her torch against the damp wall, plunging them into near darkness. Only a faint, wavering light shone through the narrow aperture they had just used.
“Norbard's men have brought their own torches,” Braedon murmured.
“To find us, they'll have to know exactly where to look,” Lilianne whispered back. “If we stay quiet, they won't guess we are here.”
Gilbert chose that moment to begin moaning rather loudly.
“Silence that brat,” William muttered, “before he gives our location away.”
“Gilbert?” Lilianne felt her way past Braedon to reach her brother. When she touched him, Gilbert moaned again. She caught his head against her bosom to soothe him. “Hush, my dear. Please, be quiet. We don't want anyone to find us.”
They all froze as footsteps pounded past the opening to their hiding place. Mercifully, Gilbert made no more noise.
“I think they've gone,” William said after a few moments of silence.
“We should move along before they return,” Magnus said. “Lilianne, lead the way. I'll take care of Gilbert.” He lifted the half-conscious boy from her arms.
Placing one hand on the tunnel wall, Lilianne began to walk. Magnus wound his fingers into her belt and followed her. Years had passed since the last time she was in these smaller tunnels, which were intended for escape in time of war. She wasn't surprised that Norbard knew about the main tunnel leading out of the manor. He and Erland probably used it during their spying activities, since the cave provided a convenient meeting place that was secure from suspicious eyes. But she could think of no reason why Norbard should have been told about the secret route she was presently taking. She wasn't even sure if Erland knew about it. Thus, she felt reasonably safe so long as no one made a noise loud enough for Norbard to hear, and the farther away from the main tunnel they were, the less likely it was that any sound would carry back to it.
Lilianne's confidence grew with every step she took. They would leave the manor, escaping Norbard, and Gilbert would be safe. It was far more than she had dared to envision when she returned to her old home to bury her brother. Her heart swelled with joy.
Their way led downward and the stone walls and floor were slippery with seeping moisture. Caution was required if they were to avoid slipping and falling. Lilianne could hear nothing but the soft footsteps and quiet breathing of her friends. In the darkness her senses were so heightened that she felt Magnus’s sudden shudder as if it were her own body’s movement.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, stopping so abruptly that he bumped against her.
“Nothing,” he said, “just the dampness. Keep going.”
“Where is Gilbert?” she asked.
“I'm here.” Gilbert sounded remarkably natural. “Magnus is holding on to me. Will we reach the light room soon?”
“I think so,” she said. “You have a good memory. You were just a little boy when last we came this way.”
“What light room?” Magnus asked.
“There’s an opening in the rock, just big enough to let a little daylight in,” Lilianne explained. “If you like, we can stop there to rest and discuss what to do next.”
“Why did you bring Gilbert down here when he was small?” Magnus asked.
“She didn't,” Gilbert said. “Our father brought us. As the next lord of Sainte Inge, I had to learn the escape route. Father wanted Lilianne to know it, too.”
Lilianne stayed silent, recalling the day when their father had shown them through the tunnel. He had used a torch, but she had kept her eyes closed as he instructed, so she would know how to find her way if ever she needed to use the tunnel in darkness.
They came to a curve in the tunnel and a few moments later they entered a wide, low-roofed chamber. A narrow shaft of daylight shone through a hole in one wall, down close to the floor. The light revealed moisture on the rocks and a bit of seaweed near the opening.
Magnus halted, shuddering, and wrapped his arms around himself. Lilianne watched him with growing concern.
“Interesting,” Braedon said, looking around. “Lilianne, am I correct that this room was once open to the sea, until a rock fall blocked the opening, except for this one hole?”
“I think so,” she answered. “We are down at the very base of the promontory, with the manor house directly above us, on top of the cliff.”
“I gather from the seaweed that the hole is low enough for the sea to enter during a storm or a very high tide,” Braedon said. As if to emphasize his words, a gush of water burst through the hole. “A storm such as the one we’re having today,” Braedon added.
“Dear heaven, it’s cold in here,” Magnus complained. He shivered and rubbed his arms.
“It’s not cold enough to make you quake like that,” William said. “I hope you haven’t contracted an ague.”
“How do we get out?” Magnus asked Lilianne, while ignoring William’s remarks. “Where is the exit tunnel?”
“I remember,” Gilbert exclaimed. He started for the far side of the rock chamber.
“Magnus, are you sure you aren’t ill?” In the dim light, Braedon’s handsome face was worried. “Can you walk, or do you need help?”
“I can walk.” Still rubbing his arms for warmth, Magnus hurried after Gilbert. “Nothing is wrong with me.”
“Anyone can see you aren’t well,” Lilianne objected, rushing to catch up with him.
“Just show me the way out of here,” he ordered. “Let me smell fresh air again and I’ll stop shivering.”
“Lilianne,” Gilbert said, pausing at an opening in the chamber wall, “aren’t the dungeon stairs just inside this tunnel?”
“Why, yes,” she said, surprised again by her brother’s remarkable memory.
“I thought we were trying to leave,” William grumbled, “not visit the dungeon.”
“The stairs that Gilbert remembers will take us down to the lowest tunnel of all, the one that opens out of the cliff,” Lilianne explained. “To visit the old dungeon, we would have to climb up the stairs.”
“That's an odd arrangement,” William remarked.
“If you consider the original purpose of the stairs, it's not odd at all,” Lilianne said. “When the manor was built several hundred years ago, prisoners who died in confinement were carried down to the tunnel and the beach beyond. According to my father, the bodies were put into boats and rowed out to sea for burial.”
“How pleasant,” Magnus said with heavy sarcasm.
“My father was a most lenient lord, and so was his father before him,” Lilianne responded hotly. She was speaking to Magnus’s back, for he was pacing around the rock chamber and stamping his feet as if they were freezing. Nevertheless, she continued her protest of his disparaging remark. “No prisoner as been cast into our dungeon for half a century or more.”
“That's not true,” Gilbert interrupted her heated defense of their forebears.
“Of course, it is,” Lilianne told him. “I have Father's word on it.”
“A prisoner is in the dungeon right now,” Gilbert informed her with smug assurance.
“No, that cannot be,” she began. Her objection to Gilbert's claim ceased when he folded his arms across his narrow chest and shook his head at her. For a moment he looked so much like their father that she couldn't speak.
“I wish we could sneak into the dungeon and free him,” Gilbert said.
“Free whom?” Magnus demanded. He continued to rub his arms as if he would never be warm again, bu
t now he began to pay more attention to what Gilbert was saying.
“When you found me in the tower room, I told you about him, but you didn’t listen,” Gilbert said with exaggerated patience.
“What man?” Lilianne asked, trying hard not to give in to her urge to shake the boy. Impatience never worked with Gilbert. She would just have to hold her tongue and listen while he explained in his own way.
“The man who fed me,” Gilbert said. Abandoning his pretense of lofty self-assurance, he added in a doubtful tone, “At least, I think it’s a man. I suppose it could be a woman. I’m not sure because I don’t know his name, but I just assumed a prisoner would be a man.”
“That’s not always the case,” Braedon said.
“Gilbert, I think you should tell us the entire story now, so we can decide what we ought to do about this prisoner,” Magnus said. Slowly he unwrapped his arms, moving as if he was forcing his hands downward unwillingly, until one rested on the hilt of his sword and the other hung stiffly at his side.
Lilianne watched him with deep concern, afraid that William was right and Magnus had contracted an illness. Certainly, his face was oddly pale, but perhaps it was only the effect of the muted light. She hoped so. Then Gilbert began to speak and she gave her full attention to her brother.
“After Uncle Erland left me in the tower room,” Gilbert explained, “he didn't provide much food, and I never saw anyone except him. But I was sure that sooner or later Lilianne would start looking for me, so I vowed to stay alive until she found me.”
“Oh, Gilbert,” Lilianne whispered as she thought of Gilbert's delicate health and their uncle's cruelty.
“I decided to try fishing for food,” Gilbert said. “I tore my sheet into strips and tied them together to make the long rope I knew I'd need, because the tower room is so high above the water. Then I bent a pin into a hook and fastened my last crust of bread onto the end of the strip for bait, and I hung the line out the window.”
“Ingenious,” said Braedon, smiling his approval.
