Cast Love Aside

by Speer, Flora

  Ahead of Lilianne, the rowboat skimmed through the surf. Safety was so tantalizingly close.... Lilianne willed her legs to pump faster. She was already on wet sand, and Gilbert was almost at the boat. William caught the bow, holding the craft steady.

  Braedon grabbed Gilbert around the waist, lifted him and dumped him into the boat. The next thing Lilianne knew, Magnus swooped down on her, catching her and tossing her almost on top of Gilbert, who quickly scrambled out of the way.

  By the time Lilianne had righted herself, the men on shore were engaged in a fierce battle. Even Desmond was involved, using the sword he had snatched up back at the manor.

  A cry from William caught Lilianne's attention. She watched in horror as a streak of red appeared on the left side of his tunic. Gilbert leaned out of the rowboat to seize William's sword from his failing hands and Lilianne, without a second thought, twisted both of her own hands into William's clothing and dragged him aboard. He fell into the bottom of the rowboat, where he lay unmoving.

  “We ain't stayin' here to be slaughtered,” yelled one of the rowers.

  “Braedon, stop them from leaving!” Lilianne screamed to the nearest of the battling men.

  Braedon heard her and laid a heavy hand on the side of the boat to prevent the rowers from departing. An incoming wave aided his effort, but Norbard and the men-at-arms were determined that no one should escape. Lilianne saw a slashing broadsword strike Desmond's left arm.

  “Desmond, get on board!” Braedon shouted. He was still holding the rowboat steady with his left hand while he used the sword in his right hand to fend off two men at once.

  In the next instant Lilianne watched in frozen horror as Norbard splashed through the water to confront Magnus. With grim determination on his face, Norbard raised his sword to deal a killing blow. Magnus lifted his own sword to parry the strike. Desmond joined him and together the two brothers smote Norbard, slashing each of his arms.

  Norbard went down, submerged in salt water until his men hauled him out and dragged him to the beach.

  Meanwhile, Desmond hung white-faced against the rowboat. A moment later Magnus heaved his brother over the side.

  “You next, Braedon,” Magnus ordered in a remarkably calm voice.

  Braedon didn't argue; he threw his sword into the boat and jumped in after it.

  Magnus shoved hard on the bow of the boat, using his mighty strength to turn it and push it so far into the surf that Norbard's men were unlikely to venture after them.

  “Row, damn you!” Magnus shouted to the men at the oars. Slowly, painfully, he dragged himself up and, with Lilianne and Braedon both helping him, he climbed into the rowboat.

  “One of the oarsmen is wounded,” Gilbert cried.

  “How the devil did that happen?” Magnus gasped.

  “I didn’t see,” Gilbert answered, “but his shoulder is bleeding.”

  “Then, I'll row,” Magnus said, shoving the injured man aside and sliding into his place.

  “You’re bleeding, too,” Gilbert objected. “Magnus, I can row. I'll help you.”

  Gilbert sat next to Magnus and placed his hands on an oar. From the look he sent in Lilianne's direction she knew better than to tell him to stop. Having been denied a chance to fight, Gilbert wanted to contribute as best he could to their escape.

  Magnus smiled at her in silent reassurance and Lilianne felt tears stinging her eyelids. They had done it; they were safely away from France.

  But at what cost? Seeing the bleeding men slumped in the bottom of the rowboat, Lilianne could only pray they would all survive.

  * * * * *

  It took some time to hoist the wounded onto the Daisy. Once again Lilianne climbed up the net, with Gilbert scrambling nimbly in her wake and swearing manfully at the blisters on his palms.

  “Well, you would insist on rowing,” Lilianne told him.

  “I'd do it again,” Gilbert said. “Do you need help?”

  “I can manage. I’m fast becoming an expert at net-climbing.” She swung her legs over the rail and tumbled onto the deck to face Captain Piers.

  “Good heavens!” she exclaimed, staring at the captain's blackened and swollen eye and his split lip. “What happened to you?”

  “'Twas my other passenger did this, shortly after ye left me,” Captain Piers explained. “That cursed Norbard fellow wanted ta know why ye were aboard and what ye were plannin' ta do once ye got ta France.”

  “Norbard beat you?” Gilbert asked. “That cowardly cur!”

  “Aye, yer right about that, me lad,” Captain Piers said. Turning to Magnus, who had come up the net just after Lilianne, the captain added with barely controlled fury, “No man is goin' ta tell me what ta do or who ta carry on me own ship, and ye can so inform Lord Royce when next ye see him. 'Tis a matter o' honor wi' me, and if his lordship doesn't like it, he can bloody well find other transport for his people!”

  “After Royce hears our report of Norbard’s treachery, he'll never want to use the man again,” Magnus said, “so you won’t be troubled to deny him passage or quarrel with Royce about him. Norbard has been secretly working for the French.”

  “Well, then,” Captain Piers responded, looking only slightly mollified by Magnus's explanation, “will ye kindly tell me what’s goin’ on here? One o’ me men is wounded, and ye’ve brought two extra passengers with ye fer the homeward voyage.”

  “Captain,” Lilianne said, placing a hand on Gilbert's shoulder, “this is my brother, and the other new passenger is Magnus's brother. Norbard was holding both of them prisoners, until we rescued them.” It wasn't the entire truth, but she thought the explanation would satisfy Captain Piers.

  “We acted on Lord Royce's orders,” Magnus added.

  “An' I suppose Lord Royce is willin' ta pay a double fare for each o' them?” Captain Piers asked.

  “Of course, he will,” Lilianne told him.

  “An' extra fer the bandages and wine ye'll be needin' ta treat all the wounds?”

  “Certainly,” Magnus said. “Lord Royce will be so glad to see these two men that he will happily pay their fares.”

  Lilianne watched Gilbert stand up a bit straighter at being called a man. She also saw how Magnus was struggling to keep himself upright while a puddle of reddish salt water formed around his left foot. Magnus's hose were slashed just above his left knee, revealing a wound that could prove to be seriously debilitating – or life threatening, if the cut should fester.

  “Has Braedon has taken the wounded men below?” Lilianne asked, keeping her voice steady so as not to reveal how concerned she was about Magnus.

  “Aye,” Captain Piers said. “I sent them ta the same cabins as before. I expect ye ta take care o' yer own people.”

  “We'll do better than that,” Lilianne promised. “We will also care for your man who was hurt in our cause. My brother will help me.”

  “Yes,” Gilbert spoke up, “I will.”

  Over the next hour, while Magnus insisted the others must be tended before his own wounds were treated, Gilbert proved to be a fine help. Told to hold William down so Lilianne and Braedon could sew up the gash in his side, which was the wound most urgently in need of care, Gilbert did not flinch. His youthful hands were firm and steady on William's shoulders until the job was done. Afterward, Gilbert wiped William's clammy face with a damp cloth and offered him a bit of wine.

  “William, I expect you to heal soon,” Lilianne told him. “Alice will have my head if you don't.”

  “I'll try my best,” William promised. “How I long to see Alice again.”

  “You will be at Richton by tomorrow afternoon,” Lilianne promised.

  The oarsman was next in line for treatment. He had sustained a minor cut on his shoulder, which Lilianne bathed in wine and bandaged with a strip of clean linen before sending the sailor to his bunk with orders to sleep for a time.

  Meanwhile, Braedon and Gilbert were tending to Desmond. The wound to his arm wasn’t deep, but Desmond was so seriously debi
litated by hunger and imprisonment that his recovery was likely to be prolonged. When Braedon told him to lie down on one of the bunks and try to sleep, Desmond made no protest.

  “It will be a pleasure to rest on something other than a damp cell floor,” he remarked, stretching out and closing his eyes.

  “Magnus, you need a bandage, too,” Lilianne said. “You've been standing all this time.”

  “Take him into the other cabin,” Braedon advised. With a teasing grin he handed the remaining wine and linen to Lilianne. “Call me if he causes any trouble. I'll be glad to hold him down for you. But if you don't need me, I'll stay here to watch over William and Desmond.”

  “So will I,” Gilbert offered. “It's only fair for me to help Sir Desmond now.”

  Lilianne could think of no reason to object. Her little brother was growing up even as she watched. After the dangers of the past two days, she yearned to put her arms around him and hug him, but she didn't think the newly mature Gilbert would care for so emotional a gesture. She contented herself with a smile at him before she followed Magnus to the smaller cabin.

  “I forbid you to cut off my hose,” Magnus warned her. “I neglected to bring a second pair along and I refuse to ride into Richton Castle looking like a barelegged stableboy.”

  “Very well. I'll sew up the tear after I see to your wound,” Lilianne said, repressing a giggle at the pride of males both young and full-grown.

  Out of deference to Magnus’s masculine pride, she did not offer to help him, but let him remove the hose by himself. Keeping her back turned she set out the flask of wine and the linen, waiting until he sat on the bunk where they had made love less than two days ago.

  Magnus’s uncovered legs were long and straight, and powerfully muscled. Except for the seeping gash above his left knee, those legs were the very perfection of manly strength and beauty. She squatted before him, frowning at his injury.

  “It could have been much worse,” he said, sounding indifferent to the pain and the damage.

  “Yes.” Lilianne swallowed hard and sent up a silent prayer to heaven that he was right. In her attempt to clean the wound thoroughly she poured most of the wine into it.

  “Are you bent upon a permanent maiming?” Magnus asked.

  He sounded as if he was joking, but when Lilianne finished tying the bandage and glanced up at him, she saw how pale he was.

  “Lie down and rest,” she ordered.

  “Nonsense.” Defying her, he stood, weaving a bit. “I'm going to look in on the others, and then I am going on deck.”

  “William and Desmond need to sleep undisturbed.” Lilianne eyed him with concern. “And I do believe Captain Piers is capable of finding the port of Hythe without your assistance. Furthermore, in case you’ve forgotten, you are not wearing hose. Lie down, Magnus.”

  “Only if you lie down with me,” he responded. “You really ought to remove that wet dress before you catch a chill. If you do, I'll take off my tunic, and we can keep each other warm while our clothes dry.”

  The look in his eyes and the upward curve of his lips warmed Lilianne's heart. When Magnus smiled at her, she forgot her concern over Gilbert's future and her own. All she could think of was how much she loved him. She tugged her sodden wool gown over her head and hung it from a peg on the wall.

  “This, too,” Magnus said, pulling at her shift.

  By the time she stood naked before him, his remaining garments were gone and it was plain to see that rest was not his immediate intent.

  “How bold we are,” she murmured, reaching to caress the three-day stubble of his black beard. “How utterly shameless.”

  “After what we've achieved, we deserve an hour or two of peace.” His arms were tight around her and his voice was a soft growl in her ear. Lilianne sighed with happiness.

  She very quickly began to appreciate the advantage of a small cabin. All she had to do was lean backward until she fell upon the bunk, pulling Magnus down on top of her. She heard him wince as his knee struck the mattress.

  “I’m sorry,” she cried.

  “Forget it,” he said. “The wound doesn't matter. There were moments during the last few days when I feared I'd never hold you this way again, never feel your warm skin against mine. Now that I have you alone, I mean to enjoy you.”

  His mouth descended on hers in a deep and urgent kiss. His great size and strength crushed her into the thin mattress of the bunk. Desire rose in Lilianne, hot and sweet. She began to caress him, her fingers stroking over his broad shoulders and down his spine. Magnus shuddered under her touch, holding nothing back from her, letting her know how much he wanted her. His mouth and his hands cherished her until Lilianne was half mad with longing. As his hardness pressed against her moist warmth she opened her eyes to find him gazing at her with mingled tenderness and sorrow.

  “Magnus?” She tried to form a question, to ask him what was wrong, but she was hovering too close to the edge of ecstasy. She couldn't think clearly while Magnus was moving into her, his body filling hers in a slow, delicious possession. When he caught her face between his hands and stared into her eyes, she couldn't speak a single word.

  “Lilianne, my love,” he whispered. “My dear, dear love.”

  Passion captured her, shattering her senses as Magnus drove into her again and again, his mouth catching her wild cries. Eagerly she met his every thrust until she shattered into a thousand flaming pieces. He surged against her one last time and went still.

  “Lilianne!” He collapsed upon her, burying his face in her neck.

  Only then did Lilianne realize that she was weeping. Awkwardly, reaching around Magnus's shoulders, she wiped the tears away. He didn't move. It took a moment or two before she realized he was asleep, worn out by the responsibility of keeping his comrades alive and of getting all of them safely out of France. She thought he had expended the very last of his strength in making beautiful love to her.

  Fresh tears poured from her eyes. Not wanting to disturb his rest, she bit her lips to stop the sobs. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, knowing it might well be her last opportunity. After a while she drifted into sleep, too. She didn't waken until the shouts of sailors on deck told her they had reached Hythe. By then, Magnus was gone and she was alone.

  Chapter 18

  When Lilianne reached the cabin where the wounded men were, it was immediately apparent that an argument was in progress. Gilbert saw her and shrugged his shoulders in a gesture that told her he had decided to stay out of the dispute.

  “I believe we can find a cart for hire at the stable where we left our horses,” Braedon was saying to Magnus. “Despite what they claim, you can see for yourself that neither William nor Desmond is strong enough to ride all the way to Richton.”

  “I refuse to be dragged about the countryside like the carcass of some half-dead animal!” Desmond exclaimed. “I will enter Richton Castle on horseback, or not at all.”

  “I refuse to alarm Alice by arriving on my back,” William insisted. “If Desmond can ride, so can I.”

  “William, any fool can see how weak you are,” Braedon told his friend. “If you try to control a horse, your wound will tear open again before you even reach the outskirts of Hythe. As for you, Desmond, your feet are badly swollen and you are feverish.”

  “I don’t intend to use my feet,” Desmond said. “I shall ride a horse, like any other knight who’s worth his bread.”

  “Until you reach Richton and I hand you over to Royce, you will do as you’re told,” Magnus reminded him with a cold glare.

  “Why don’t you both ride pillion?” Lilianne suggested.

  “Like a woman, or a servant? Never!” Desmond responded with a snort of disgust.

  “I’m sorry to hear you say so, because I intended to ask a favor of you,” Lilianne said. When Desmond turned his head away from her with an affronted air, she ventured a wink at Gilbert, hoping he would understand what she was trying to do and cooperate with her. “Sir Desmond,
I wish you would consent to ride behind Gilbert, to hold him in the saddle. My brother is a fair horseman, but I fear he’s not yet recovered enough from his ordeal to be able to sit a horse for more than a few minutes.”

  “That sounds like a very good idea,” Gilbert responded to her remarks with a perfectly straight face. “I do, indeed feel a bit weak today.”

  “Erland deserves a severe punishment for what he did to you,” Desmond said, regarding Gilbert with frowning concern. “Of course, I’ll be glad to help you, lad.”

  “I will be most grateful,” Gilbert told him. To Lilianne, he added in an innocent tone, “Perhaps, dear sister, Sir William will kindly agree to keep you in your saddle, since you have never been much of a horsewoman.”

  William knew perfectly well that she was a fine horsewoman. By the look on his face, Lilianne could see he didn’t believe a word of any of Gilbert’s claims, or hers, either. But Braedon exchanged a glance with Magnus and spoke before William could say anything.

  “Well, then,” Braedon declared, bestowing his most charming smile on the two wounded men, “that’s settled. As soon as I can leave the ship, I’ll take myself off to the stable and retrieve our horses. I’ll bring them here to the dock so no one will have to walk more than a few paces from the gangplank. In the meantime, Magnus, I believe Captain Piers has a rather pithy message for you to deliver to Royce.”

  Braedon went out. Magnus followed, but he paused at Lilianne’s side to catch the hand she was holding fisted in the folds of her gown. Gently he unclenched her fingers so he could rub his thumb across her palm. The unhappy look in his eyes made her want to weep. On the day when they should have been rejoicing over the success of their mission, the knowledge that they would soon be parted, that Magnus must return to his duties as a knight in King Henry’s service while she was facing a most uncertain future, tore at her heart. Though Gilbert’s life was safe, his lands remained in French hands, and Lilianne possessed no dowry. The lord of Sainte Inge and his sister were paupers.