Jilliana stood up, tears swimming in her eyes. "I do not care what happens to me. I died a little the day Ruyen died, and I died again today when they took our daughter."
Weakly, Jilliana fell back on the bed. "I have failed, Netta, in all that was expected of me. What will become of Talshamar?"
"Here, now, Your Majesty," Netta said gently, "I have something to tell you that will give you hope. Princess Cassandra has said that help is near."
Jilliana stared out the window at the bleak sky. "There is no hope for me."
31
Cassandra hurried toward the dining hall, where her mother was entertaining an emissary who had arrived from Castile the day before. She had run all the way from the woods, and she slipped into her chair, trying to catch her breath.
"You are late, Cassandra," Melesant accused.
The lie came easily to the princess's lips. "I was in the nursery with the baby. She likes to have me rock her and sing to her."
This seemed to pacify the queen. Cassandra had to be careful so her mother would not suspect her. Sir Edward had come this morning and she had been with him while they plotted Jilliana's escape.
Cassandra noticed that her mother was wearing one of Jilliana's gowns. Since Jilliana was smaller than the queen, the seamstress had been instructed to let the dress out. Cassandra ground her teeth, attempting not to show her anger, for her mother was also wearing Jilliana's jewels.
The girl's eyes moved to the Castilian emissary, Count Renaldo Ortiz, who had been placed on her mother's right. Cassandra observed her mother's exaggerated movements and her girlish laughter. She had seen this all before and she recognized the posture—it was always the same when her mother took a new lover. She would ply him with attention, then tease and taunt her poor victim with the audacity of a milkmaid.
Count Renaldo had a wife and seven children in Castile, but that did not seem to matter to either of them. Her mother could be very charming when it suited her, and it was easy to see that Count Renaldo was flattered by her attention.
"Your Majesty," he said, "allow me to offer you my condolences for the death of your son. It is a tragedy."
"Yes," Melesant answered with two bright spots glowing on her cheeks. "He was slain by that rabble who would see war come to our island."
"My illustrious Majesty bade me assure you that he will send troops to help you stop the rebellion, although we ourselves are having our own troubles with the Moors."
Melesant placed her hand on the count's. "I know who my friends are, and I will not be ungrateful."
Cassandra raised her wine glass to her lips and paused. "Count Renaldo, did my mother tell you that she has only last week become a grandmother?" she asked softly.
The man looked startled. "But, Your Majesty, surely you are much too young to be a grandmother."
The look Melesant cast her daughter was pure poison. "After you have finished your meal, you may be excused, Cassandra," she said in a hard voice.
"I would have a word with you first, Mother," the princess persisted.
There was a warning in Melesant's eyes. "Anything you have to say can be said later."
Cassandra was having a hard time hiding her dislike for her mother. She would never forgive her for Ruyen's death. "But, Mother," she said smiling, "the matter concerns the woman upstairs. You know she—"
"Cassandra!" Melesant interrupted, coming abruptly to her feet. "I command you to say nothing further on this matter."
Her daughter blinked her eyes, managing to look innocent. "This matter will not wait, Mother."
"You will excuse us, Count Renaldo. It seems my daughter has something of import to relate to me—" Her eyes burned into Cassandra's, "that cannot wait."
The Castilian rose and bowed, raking the queen with his dark eyes. "Of course. I shall await your return, Your Majesty."
Melesant led the way to the small chamber off the dining hall. She was livid when she closed the door and turned to her daughter.
"What, pray you, was the reason for your behavior just now?"
"I did not think it was wrong to mention the baby or Jilliana. Does not the count know of them both? Everyone else in Falcon Bruine does."
Melesant tapped her foot in irritation. "To be cursed with such a daughter," she said to no one in particular.
"I merely wanted to ask something of you. Perhaps it can wait."
"Now that we are here, tell me what it is," her mother said in an intolerant voice. "But be quick about it."
Cassandra gathered her courage. "The cook has sent word to me that Netta has asked for a priest to attend Jilliana. Will you allow it?"
"I have no time for this now. Why do you bother me with such foolishness?"
Cassandra shrugged, as if it made no difference to her. "Very well, but I am told Jilliana is very weak, refusing to eat again. I believe she wants to starve herself to death. Would it not be wise to allow a priest to see her? If she should die, he can later say it was from her own will."
A smile slowly spread over Melesant's face. "I see . . . yes, what a clever girl you are, after all. You can take care of the details, Cassandra. Get a priest from the village."
Now Cassandra's heart was thundering inside her. "Someone will have to alert the guard at Jilliana's door to admit him when he arrives."
"Yes, yes, I shall have Escobar tend to it." Melesant's mind was already on the handsome man who was waiting for her in the dining hall. Tonight she would invite him to her bed, and he would eagerly comply. "Find Escobar now and send him to me. I shall tell him what to do."
"Yes, Mother."
Cassandra turned away, forcing herself not to run. She had not been able to save her brother, but she would save Jilliana or die trying. She smiled at her own daring. Her mother was not even suspicious of her motives because her mind was occupied with her new lover. The first obstacle had been overcome, but the most difficult one lay ahead.
Jilliana was very ill. Her cheeks were pale, her eyes had dark circles beneath them. Netta knew it was because she had given up all hope and did not want to live. She did not even move or take notice when the door was opened and someone entered.
A priest and a nun stood just inside the door, waiting for the guard to close it, but the guard seemed interested in observing them.
Netta rushed forward, dropping to her knees and taking the priest's hand. "Thank God you have come, Father. My queen needs your spiritual guidance."
The priest withdrew his hand and turned to the guard. "Close the door, my son, so that this poor woman may have her privacy."
When the door slammed and locked, Sir Edward threw off his hood and so did Cassandra, who wore the habit of a nun.
Sir Edward rushed to the queen. Dropping down on his knees, he looked into dull eyes that had once been so brilliant and was stunned. "Your Majesty, I have come to take you away."
It took Jilliana a moment to focus her eyes. When she saw Sir Edward, she clutched his sleeve. "My baby," she moaned, "they took my baby."
He looked at Netta and Cassandra. "We must hasten. Help her into the habit." He moved away and turned his back while they were dressing the queen. He had come just in time. She would not live long if he did not get her away from here.
Jilliana tried to push Cassandra's hands away. "No, I just want to lie down. I do not want to leave. Do you think me so craven that I would desert my imprisoned people or my child?"
Cassandra grabbed Jilliana's face between her hands and whispered harshly. "Someone has to stop my mother, Jilliana, and it can only be you. You cannot think of yourself. You must think of the people of Talshamar and Falcon Bruine. They need you."
Jilliana's vision seemed to clear and at last she nodded. "I will try. Help me stand."
In no time, she was dressed in a wimple and robe. She reached out her hand to Cassandra. "Thank you for what you have done. But will you be punished?"
"Do not think of that. My mother has a new lover who occupies her attention. Netta and I will keep up t
he pretense that you are still here for as long as we can, and give you all the time you need to escape. If we are fortunate, they will not discover the deception until you are away from the island."
Jilliana took Netta's hand. "I am loath to leave you. You have become my trusted companion."
Sir Edward took her arm and supported her weight. "We must hurry, Your Majesty. If you delay, all may be lost. You must walk past the guard without my help so he will not become suspicious. Are you able to do that?"
Jilliana drew in a steadying breath and took a tentative step. "I am."
Sir Edward glanced at Cassandra. "I have never known anyone quite like you. 1 wish we could have known each other better."
She smiled sadly, wondering if she would ever see him again. There was no time to tell him how she admired his courage. "I shall get into bed and pull the covers over my head, so the guard will believe I am Jilliana."
Sir Edward rapped on the door and waited for the guard to open it. "Lower your head," he instructed Jilliana, "and poise your hands as if you are praying."
She followed him out, hoping her legs would carry her.
Sir Edward paused before the guard. "Peace be with you, my son."
As they moved away, Jilliana expected the guard to discover the deception and come after them. When they reached the stairs, she breathed easier. But when she took several steps, her legs went weak and Sir Edward took her arm.
"Keep your head low," he whispered. Then he raised his voice so anyone who might be about could hear. "You should not be sad for Queen Jilliana, it is a far better place she goes to than this troubled world, Sister Mary."
Each obstacle was met and overcome, and at last they were outside the castle walls.
A bitter, cold wind stole Jilliana's breath, and she braced herself against its onslaught. With forced steps, she followed Sir Edward, startled when she saw the two donkeys they were to ride. He helped her onto the shaggy animal's back, and he mounted the other.
For a moment, Jilliana thought she might burst out laughing. He looked so ridiculous with his long legs dangling from the donkey's back and almost touching the ground.
"It would look suspicious if a humble man of the church rode a fine steed," he told her.
It had snowed earlier, but now the sky was clear. On the back of the gaunt little donkey, she rode with her head down, through the village, and no one seemed to pay them any heed.
Several times Jilliana felt weakness wash over her, but she kept a tight grip on the reins, praying she would not fall. On they plodded, past fishing boats that had been moored because of the rough sea.
At last they rounded a cove and several men came forward. Without ceremony, Sir Edward dismounted and took Jilliana in his arms. "You can cling to me now, Your Majesty, we are almost safely away."
She laid her face against his shoulder, wanting to cry, but she was just too weary. She tried not to think of the daughter she was leaving behind, not to mention Humphrey and her other knights imprisoned in the dungeon. She thought about faithful Netta. How would she forgive herself if anything happened to her? And brave little Cassandra had put her life in danger for her sake. Jilliana wondered what she had done to deserve such devotion.
She remembered Ruyen's last words, beseeching her not to forget him, as if she ever could. She would return to Falcon Bruine to get her daughter, and at that time, she would show Melesant no mercy.
Jilliana was wrapped in warm furs and placed in a boat while several men rowed to the ship that was riding the restless waves.
When she was on board, the sails dropped and pride surged through her when she saw the flag of Talshamar snapping in the wind.
She had escaped!
Sir Edward saw her swaying on her feet and again lifted her in his arms.
"We have provided warm quarters for you, Your Majesty." He smiled. "You sail for home."
She pressed her face against his, loving him not as a man, but as a loyal subject who had endured many hardships for her sake.
"Yes," she said weakly, "take me to Talshamar. There I shall find a way to free the others and take my daughter home where she belongs."
"We shall return with such a force that Falcon Bruine will tremble beneath the onslaught of our army," Sir Edward stated fervently.
He carried her below and gently laid her among the soft furs. "I regret you will have no lady to attend you. Should you need anything, I shall be within hearing and you have only to call."
Jilliana closed her eyes, too weary to even thank the young knight who had risked his life to rescue her.
Above deck, the crew was clambering about, tying off sails and bringing the ship into the wind. The storm was worsening. It was as though the heavens opened and sleet pounded the small craft. Violent gusts of wind made the sailors' lot miserable, for it was bitterly cold.
But within the heart of each man, there was gladness. Their queen was at last on her way home to Talshamar, where she belonged.
For the first week of the voyage, Jilliana was so ill and sick at heart that she lay upon her bed, wishing she had been left to die. But under the gentle care of the men on board, she began to throw off her gloom. She forced herself to eat so she would regain her strength.
Amazingly, by the second week, there was color in her cheeks, and she joined them on deck.
At this time, Sir Edward handed her a letter from Cardinal Failsham explaining to her what would occur when she finally reached Talshamar. He explained how her subjects' fervor had risen to a crescendo upon learning of her imminent arrival, and many were already celebrating in the streets. He admonished her to keep faith and be diligent in her prayers.
Jilliana wondered how she could face her people when her heart was breaking.
32
Melesant's black eyes were pinpoints and her hands were claw like as she grabbed Netta and flung her against the wall. The maid crumpled to the floor and Cassandra dropped down, protecting her with her body.
"Do not touch her again, Mother!" she said threateningly. "I will not allow it. None of this is her doing."
Melesant was taken aback. Cassandra had never shown such spirit. She had not thought she was capable of it.
"You are no daughter of mine, if you side with my enemies," Melesant said with a snarl.
Cassandra helped Netta stand. "I have never been anything to you. I was my father's daughter and you killed him. I was my brother's sister and you killed him. You are the betrayer, Mother. You have even made a prisoner of your grandchild, though you have not seen her since the day of her birth."
Like a caged animal caught in a trap, Melesant raged at her daughter's duplicity. "Quickly, fetch the guards," she told Escobar, who had discovered the deception. "Jilliana may still be stopped."
"She is safe from your clutches, Mother. She left the island three days ago."
"Enough, Cassandra! I will have you placed in chains if you continue to defy me."
"Will you have the whole world placed in chains, Mother? All your enemies will come against you now, you know. I can almost feel pity for you."
"Ingrate!" Melesant cried. "I gave you birth and you have no feelings for me. I should have locked you away, but no, I trusted you. That is a mistake I will not repeat."
"You did not trust me so much as you thought me incapable of deceiving you."
Melesant did not deny Cassandra's accusation.
"I have remained in this chamber three days and nights to allow Jilliana time to escape. The simpering smile of your new lover engaged your attention, or you would have known that something was amiss."
For a moment Melesant was speechless. Her daughter had never defied her, and she had certainly not spoken to her with such contempt. "I am warning you, Cassandra, do not continue."
"What will you do, Mother, lock me in the dungeon?" Cassandra withdrew her jeweled dagger and tossed it on the floor. "You once gave me this, and now I give you leave to use it on me if you dare. You took my brother's life, now take mine!"
Melesant glared at her daughter. "I leave the knife so you can use it on yourself. Your flesh will rot on your bones before you leave this room."
She turned to the guards. "Take the Talshamarian woman below and throw her in the dungeon with her countrymen. As for my daughter, she will remain here alone, until she's had time to think about her actions."
"I am sorry, Netta," Cassandra said, as two men roughly led the maid away. "I'll pray for your safety."
Melesant was watching her daughter with a strange expression on her face. "You would do better to pray for yourself. Ask me to free you, and I may consider it," she said.
Cassandra raised her head. "I would never ask anything of you. You killed any feelings I had for you when you killed my brother."
"How come you by this haughty manner?"
"It is nothing you would understand. It's called honor, Mother. It is putting another's welfare before your own. I learned it from Jilliana."
Melesant sneered. "You might as well enter a nunnery. I have no use for you, and from this day forward, I shall take no interest in your future."
"You never have, Mother."
Melesant left the room and ordered the door locked behind her. Her children had been a disappointment to her, and Jilliana had escaped. Well, she was not beaten. She had the baby, and as long as the child was under her care, she still wielded the power.
It was still dark when Jilliana began to dress herself. Fine gowns and trappings had once more been provided for her by her generous people. This was the day she had long awaited. Soon she would step onto the soil of her beloved Talshamar, and in honor of the occasion, she wore a shimmering white silk gown and golden surcoat.
When she appeared on deck, rough-faced sailors dropped to their knees, paying homage to their young queen. Many gazed at her adoringly.
Sir Edward bowed to her and offered her his arm. "Never has a queen been more worthy," he said with feeling.
Jilliana looked out upon the sea and thought of Eleanor, who had hatched the plan to smuggle her out of Falcon Bruine. So many people had helped her, and at great risk to themselves.
Once Upon A Time (Historical Romance) Page 26
