by Speer, Flora
“Who would ever guess that Magnus is the younger twin?” Desmond remarked to the others in the cell. “How authoritative he is, how certain of his own rectitude.”
“You have been warned,” Magnus said.
Then William spoke and the tension between the brothers eased – but only until they comprehended what William was saying.
“You two have just wasted the few moments when we could have escaped,” William told them. “Now, we are going to have to fight. Whoever is coming down the stairs is nearly upon us, and it sounds like more than one person.”
“Good,” Desmond said. “Is there an extra sword available? I have a score to settle with my guards.”
“You will do as I say,” Magnus stated coldly. Pulling off his cloak, he laid it over Desmond's shoulders before turning his back on his brother to speak to Gilbert. “My lord, I am depending on you to escort your sister and Sir Desmond down to the tunnel and then to the beach. No matter what you hear behind you, don't stop. Lilianne knows where we are to meet Captain Piers. If we don't catch up with you, follow her instructions.”
“Magnus.” Lilianne stretched out a hand toward him. He left the cell before she could touch him, but the look in his eyes told her that she, not Gilbert, was the person he was depending on to see his brother safely out of the manor.
“Come on.” Gilbert caught Desmond by the arm. “We have to go now. You heard what Magnus said. He'll be protecting our backs.”
“Oh, yes.” Desmond let loose a bitter laugh. “Magnus always does what's right.”
“Whatever your problems with your brother are, settle them later,” Lilianne snapped, trying to keep her irritation under control. “If you have any regard for Gilbert, who insisted we must stop to rescue you when we could have gone on to escape with little difficulty, then do as Magnus bids. Down the stairs with you, Desmond, and no more arguments, please.”
“I do admire a fiercely passionate woman,” Desmond said.
When Lilianne scowled at him, he shrugged and went through the door after Gilbert.
By the time they were halfway down the curving staircase, Lilianne knew that Desmond was more seriously injured than she had realized. The same right arm he was using to clutch Magnus's cloak tightly about his half-starved body also supported his ribs. He moved slowly, breathing with some difficulty. Once, he stopped to lean against the central newel post.
“The tunnel isn't far,” Lilianne told him. “If you can make it to the bottom of the stairs, there will be room for Gilbert and me to walk beside you and help you.”
“I don't really need help,” Desmond responded. “I'm just pretending, so I'll have an excuse to put my arm around you. Will Magnus be angry if I touch you?”
“If you don't move now,” she said, “I'll kick you off the steps.”
“No, you won't,” he said. “Not until Magnus orders it.” But he did drag himself away from his stone support to follow Gilbert.
Behind them rose the noise of a serious dispute, of loud exclamations, followed by the sound of sword striking sword. A large chunk of bread and a pitcher full of liquid sailed past Lilianne's head. Desmond's one meal of the day landed on the stone floor below, liquid spilling along the way and the pitcher shattering into pieces.
“Considering the quality of the food they've been serving me,” Desmond remarked, “that does seem an appropriate ending for it.”
A screech from above heralded the arrival of a man-at-arms who stumbled down the steps. As Lilianne shrank back against the wall, the man careened off the staircase to hit the floor.
“My arm!” The man-at-arms sat up, moaning and clutching his wrist.
“Is it broken?” Gilbert asked. He had reached the base of the stairs, from where he watched the man-at-arms with no trace of sympathy on his young face.
“If it is broken, you won't need this,” Desmond said, grabbing the sword the man-at-arms had dropped. Keeping his right arm firmly wrapped around his ribs, he hefted the weapon, testing its weight and balance. “How fortunate that I am left-handed.
“Ah, Magnus, there you are at last,” Desmond said, glancing up the stairs. “I cannot help noticing that you are much slower at this kind of work than I am. Since you claim to be our leader, what do you suggest we do with this wretched fellow?”
“We'll put him in your old cell, along with his friend,” Magnus answered. Catching the man-at-arms by the back of his tunic, Magnus marched him up the stairs. Lilianne heard a door slamming and a bolt being drawn shut.
“Someone will find them eventually,” Magnus said, coming down the stairs again in company with Braedon and William. “The second man has only a minor wound. Lilianne, what's that you have?”
“Desmond's bread.” She held up the half loaf she had retrieved from the floor. “It's not too badly damaged to be edible, and we are going to need food, are we not? Who has the saddlebags?”
“I have.” Braedon took the bread and stuffed it into one of the bags he carried slung over his shoulder.
“Resourceful wench, isn't she?” Desmond said to Magnus.
“You will speak more respectfully of Lady Lilianne,” Magnus instructed.
“Ever the pure-minded, chivalrous knight,” Desmond scoffed.
“It's past time for us to leave,” Magnus said to his friends. “Gilbert, lead the way out of here.”
The last tunnel was a short one. It opened onto the beach near the water, at a place where the cliff curved just enough to hide anyone leaving by the secret opening. The earlier rain had ended and the clouds were breaking up. Sunlight sparkled on the water. As Lilianne emerged from the tunnel she squinted to see against the sudden, dazzling brightness.
“If we can get across the beach and into the sand dunes without being caught,” she said, “we can hide among the dune grasses and the bushes. When it's too dark for the sentries patrolling the manor wall to see clearly we can run across the road and head into the trees. We ought to be safe there.”
“You hope,” Desmond said. “At this time of year, it never really gets dark.”
“Can you think of a better plan?” Magnus asked. He was peering around the rocks, surveying the stretch of sand. “We have a choice of running straight across the open beach leaving our footprints behind us, or of skirting the cliff until we are higher on the beach, nearer to the dunes, so we'll have a shorter run with better chance of concealment.”
“I believe I prefer the cliff route,” Braedon said, “though it will take us uncomfortably close to the manor wall.”
“You're all mad!” Desmond announced as if he had just made an amazing discovery. “It's a wonder you haven't been killed before now. Magnus, your arrangements are unbelievably sloppy. Don't you have someone waiting with a boat?”
“We are a day and a half early for our rendezvous,” Lilianne said.
“That shows poor planning on Magnus's part.”
“In fact,” Lilianne retorted, holding on to her temper with some difficulty, “we arrived at the manor expecting to find Gilbert dead. We planned to stay an extra day to allow time for his funeral. Thanks to your help, my brother didn't starve and our carefully laid plans have changed. I will always be grateful to you for sharing your food with Gilbert,” she finished, hoping a few kind words would silence Desmond's irritating comments.
“You should have considered every possibility before you began your visit to Manoir Sainte Inge,” Desmond insisted. “Spying missions succeed by thorough planning.”
“Is that how you were captured?” Magnus demanded. “By careful planning?”
“I was betrayed,” Desmond said. “Are we going to stand here all afternoon, or are we going to head for the dunes and what little shelter they offer?”
It was by now so late in the day that the sun was beginning its leisurely midsummer descent toward the horizon. On the other side of the promontory, the beach where Norbard and his men-at-arms were presumably still searching would be in full daylight, but Lilianne and her companions were able to
keep to the lengthening shadows cast by the cliffs on their side.
At the highest level of the beach, a little below the spot where the promontory began its thrust into the sea, a few rocks jutted out of the sand, rearing above the long grasses and the scrubby bushes that grew on the last ridge of dunes.
“Magnus, if you think we're going to find adequate shelter there,” Desmond said, gazing at the dunes, “you are greatly mistaken. The men-at-arms will know just where to look, because there’s no other place to hide.”
“I don't plan to stay there long enough for them to find us,” Magnus said. “Lilianne, are you ready?”
“Yes.” She finished kilting her skirt up to her knees, pulling her belt tight to hold the woolen folds in place so she could run if necessary. In defiance of Desmond's carping criticism she gave Magnus a bright smile. “Just tell Gilbert and me what you want us to do.”
“Stay close to me,” he said. With a frown he added, “You too, Desmond. Don't go off on your own. Leave the rearguard to Braedon and William.”
“Be assured, Sir Desmond, that I will do my best to conceal our tracks,” Braedon said. He tugged a small bush from a crack in the rocks. “I'll use this as a broom, to smooth the sand as we go.”
“Any man-at-arms who's worth his bread will notice what you've done,” Desmond objected.
“Have you a better idea?” Magnus asked. “For once, Desmond, stop arguing and do as you're told.”
“Of course, my lord. Whatever you say, my lord,” Desmond muttered.
Lilianne's hand itched to slap him. Reminding herself again that Desmond had almost certainly saved her brother's life, she held her tongue.
“Come on,” Magnus said, gesturing to her to join him.
Moving from rock to bush to high sand dune, they scurried across the upper portion of the beach until they were all huddled together next to the last large dune before the road.
“What do you suggest we do next, my lord?” Desmond snarled at his brother. “Here we lie, in a situation fraught with fatal dangers, and I have no boots. Tell me, Magnus, have you any clever orders for us now?”
“Keep your head down,” Magnus said. “One of the sentries on the manor wall is staring in our direction. We'll have to wait until he moves away.”
They were fairly well concealed by the sand dune and the tall grasses growing on it, but there was no shelter from the brilliant sun, and no relief from the late afternoon heat. Gilbert leaned against Lilianne, looking ill.
“I'm thirsty,” he whispered to her as if he didn't want anyone else to hear him, “and I’m so tired.”
“Just a little while longer and we'll be in the forest, where it's shady,” she promised. “I'm sure we can find a stream for you to drink from.”
“Magnus,” Braedon said, a note of warning in his voice, “I don't think we ought to wait any longer. Someone just stepped around the rocks at the exit we used, and took a long look at the beach. He's back inside now, but if he finds the men we locked into Desmond's cell, Norbard will soon know how we left.”
“It's time to cross the road,” Magnus said calmly, indicating the rutted path that led past the manor in the direction of Boulogne.
“Good luck to you,” Desmond murmured, sounding as if he didn't believe they'd make it to the other side.
“Stay close to me again,” Magnus instructed Lilianne. “You, too, Gilbert. We'll run from here to that tall bush you can see on the other side of the road. From there, we'll keep going, using whatever cover we can find, until we reach the forest.”
“Not if Norbard has archers posted on the manor walls,” Desmond said. “We'll die before we ever get to the trees.”
He spoke of the prospect with such relish that Lilianne gaped at him in shock, wondering if Desmond wanted to be killed, just to prove Magnus was wrong in his plans.
“We are gambling that Norbard is still devoting his full attention to the beach and to the tunnels under the manor,” Magnus said. In a mocking tone he added, “Did you lose your courage in that cell, brother?”
“Neither my courage, nor my good sense,” Desmond answered. “I did lose my boots, in case you haven't noticed.”
“You never possessed any good sense,” Magnus told him. “Which is why you are where you are at this moment.”
With that, Magnus was off, running across the road to the bush he had pointed out to Lilianne. She followed him and was greatly relieved to find Gilbert keeping pace with her. She wished they could stop long enough for Gilbert to have the drink he wanted and eat something, but she knew they'd have to wait until they found a safer place. Obeying Magnus's quiet commands they steadily made their way toward the forest.
“Well, that was a miraculous escape,” Desmond said when they paused in the shelter of the first trees. “No thanks to Magnus, who took a great risk with all of our lives. How long are we to hide in the forest?”
“We need to find a stream as soon as possible,” Magnus said, ignoring Desmond's remarks. “When Norbard doesn't find us and realizes we’ve left the manor, he will very likely send dogs after us.”
“I know a place,” Gilbert exclaimed, sounding as if he was playing a boyish game. “There's a stream just a short distance from here. I've been thinking about it because I’m so thirsty. We can wade through the water and throw the dogs off our scent. If we head upstream for a mile or so, we'll come to an island that has lots of trees and bushes. We can hide there until it's time to meet your friend with the ship.”
“Norbard will know about so obvious a spot,” Desmond objected. “Once he decides to use dogs to track us, an island like that will be the first place he'll look.”
“Not if we separate,” Magnus said. “Not if two of us continue downstream toward the sea, walking beside the stream and leaving our traces along the way, while the others go into the water and travel upstream, with the water washing away their scent. Braedon and I will mislead Norbard and his dogs – assuming he bothers to use dogs – while the rest of you head for the island.”
“Magnus, no!” Lilianne cried.
“We'll double back later,” Magnus said. “Never fear, I will find you again, Lilianne. In my absence, follow William's orders. That means you, too, Desmond.”
“By all means, my lord,” Desmond responded, using the disparaging tone that Lilianne was beginning to dislike intensely.
“Gilbert,” Magnus said, “do you want to stop to eat or rest before heading to the island?”
“No,” Gilbert answered. “I'd rather wait until later. I think you feel the same.”
“I do.” Magnus rested a hand on Gilbert's shoulder. “You’ve proven to be an excellent guide so far. If you will show us the direction of the stream, we'll be on our way.”
Lilianne was grateful for Magnus’s consideration of Gilbert’s need for food and rest, but she wasn’t at all happy with his plan to split the party in two. However, she could see the reason in the plan, and she was resolved not to question every decision Magnus made, as Desmond was doing.
She set off through the trees beside Magnus, with Gilbert in the lead this time. Because she was a girl, she hadn't been allowed the same freedom that Gilbert had enjoyed while their father was still alive, so the woodlands were unfamiliar to her. When they reached the stream she was surprised by how wide it was, and how deep it appeared to be. Gilbert's stream looked more like a river to her, though she could tell by the way a branch drifted lazily past that the current was sluggish.
“It’ll be easy for you to walk upstream,” Magnus assured her. He had given his full attention to Gilbert's description of the meandering course the stream took to the sea, and of the island where his companions would be awaiting him and Braedon. “Just be sure to stay well away from the stream bank, so no one will see you and the dogs can’t pick up your scent.”
“Please be careful,” she begged.
“I will.” He pressed her hand. “Don't worry.”
“I'll take good care of him,” Braedon promised her. “He
re, take the saddlebags. You'll want the food for Gilbert.”
They chose a spot where a flat rock overhung the water. There Magnus helped Lilianne into the stream. Gilbert, William and Desmond followed, Gilbert pausing to drink his fill. Then the four of them began walking through the water toward the island, which Gilbert assured them was out of sight around a bend in the stream.
Lilianne looked back once, but she couldn't see Magnus, or Braedon, either. The shadows were deeper among the trees, with low-hanging branches further obscuring the view.
She judged they waded upstream at least a mile before reaching their goal. Under William's guidance they avoided the muddy edges of the island, instead wading half way around it, until they could climb out of the water using a fallen tree trunk.
“We don't want to leave any footprints for Norbard to notice and investigate,” William explained. “Gilbert, you've chosen our refuge well. We should be safe here.”
They were all uncomfortably wet, and Gilbert and Desmond were clearly exhausted. Desmond had ceased his annoying remarks soon after they entered the water, apparently preferring to divert his strength to the effort needed to trudge upstream. Either that, Lilianne decided, or he saw no point in continuing his criticism of Magnus when Magnus wasn't around to hear him.
They settled on the highest point of the island, where the ground was dry and dead leaves made a soft cushion for sitting. Lilianne opened the saddlebags.
“I'm glad the weather is so warm,” William said. “Gilbert, strip off your clothes and wrap my cloak around you. It'll be drier than your tunic and hose. Desmond, were you able to keep Magnus's cloak above water? It's too dark under these trees for me to tell how wet you are.”
“I have no intention of removing my clothes, so don't ask it of me,” Desmond responded.
“As you please.” William turned his back on Desmond, to help Gilbert with his tunic.
“Desmond, I can wrap your ribs,” Lilianne offered in a quiet voice. “From the way you've been holding them, I think one or two are cracked. It must hurt you to breathe.”
