by Lynsay Sands
Shrugging that worry away, she took the reins to both Conn’s and Rory’s mounts to free their hands even as Elizabeth took Inan’s reins. They both waited patiently as the men quickly donned their blindfolds, and then returned their reins. Elysande then grasped Conn and Rory each by an arm, and urged them to follow Elizabeth and Inan and his horse when they moved toward Robbie. She did check to be sure Tom and Simon were following with their horses and her mare first, but after that, Elysande kept her gaze forward, and concentrated on steering Conn and Rory in the right direction, which was surprisingly difficult to do. Neither man seemed capable of walking in a straight line, but kept veering away or, alternately, toward her, so that she was always having to tug them back, or steer them away to keep them going.
“I do no’ like this,” Conn muttered suddenly.
“Aye,” Rory agreed grimly. “I feel helpless as a babe without me sight. How much farther is it?”
“Not far.” Elizabeth answered the question with a quick glance over her shoulder at them, and Elysande was grateful for the response. Partly because she hadn’t known the answer to the question, but also because she wasn’t caring for this herself. The muscles in her back and arms, already painful before this, were now screaming from the strain that directing the men was putting on her muscles. She would be glad to reach the gate.
“How are we going to ride blindfolded?” Conn asked suddenly.
“You will all just have to sit on your horses and let Tom, Simon and I take the reins of a horse apiece to lead you out,” Elysande said, her jaw a little tight as she fought the pain.
“Are ye all right, lass?” Rory asked. “Yer back’s paining ye, is it no’?”
Elysande glanced at him with surprise that he’d picked up on that, but then sighed and admitted, “You are both showing a distressing tendency to weave about like a pair of drunken fools without your sight, and ’tis a bit of a strain on my back and arms.”
“Oh.” Rory hesitated, and then asked, “Would it help if we held yer hand instead of ye trying to steer us by our arms? That way, ye could just squeeze our fingers and move our hands in the direction ye wanted us to go. It may be less o’ a strain fer ye.”
“That’s what I thought the plan was to begin with,” Conn commented, obviously having heard Rory’s suggestion.
“Aye, it was, and it may help,” Elysande agreed, and released first Rory’s arm to clasp his hand instead, and then did the same with Conn. Both men had huge hands, she noted as her fingers stretched almost painfully wide to slide between theirs. But it actually was a little easier that way, it certainly hurt her back and arms less, she acknowledged as Robbie turned left and led them along the front of the church.
“Better?” Rory asked after several minutes.
“Aye. Thank you,” she murmured, and then smiled with amusement and said, “Although I fancy it looks odd to anyone watching to see a woman walking down the street holding hands with two men.”
“And the blindfolds do no’ look odd?” he asked dryly, and then still in that dry tone added, “But then most people ken why we’re blindfolded.”
Elysande grimaced at the comment. She’d known he’d be irritated by Elizabeth’s words about most people knowing what was happening. But she was just glad there were so many people willing to help. She only hoped everyone who knew was on their side and there wasn’t a Judas among them who might approach the English soldiers to exchange the knowledge for coin. Elysande wasn’t a fool and knew that was a possibility with so many holding the knowledge. But she also knew there was nothing she could do about it if it happened, so tried not to think about it. Her life was in God’s hands at the moment.
“Is anyone following us?” Rory asked suddenly.
“Nay, I am sure— Oh,” Elysande said with surprise when she looked over her shoulder. Actually, there were several people following them, and several more joining every moment. Mildrede had mentioned to her that Carlisle had a population of two thousand people. It looked to her like half of them were now following them to the gate. They seemed to be coming from everywhere and filling the road behind them, trailing them past the church. The street was full of children and adults both . . . and every single one smiled and nodded reassuringly when they saw her looking.
“What is it?” Rory asked tensely, his hand jerking in hers as if he would pull off his blindfold.
“Nothing.” Elysande tightened her hold on his hand and flashed the crowd a smile before facing forward again. She was quite sure he wouldn’t be happy knowing they had what looked to be almost half the city following them this last stretch to the gate. She wasn’t sure she was either actually. Who was distracting the soldiers searching for her if half the city was following them to the gate? The other half of the city, she hoped.
Robbie turned right next, leading them down a slightly angled street with perhaps ten dwellings on the left and eleven on the right. Much to her relief she could see the city wall now at the other end, running at a slight angle to the street they were on. She thought the gate couldn’t be far now.
“I ken ye only told Mildrede and Elizabeth about de Buci here and that they then spread the news far and wide, but once we’re in Scotland, I suggest ye no’ be so free with the tale o’ de Buci, lass.”
“Oh, nay, I will not be,” she assured him firmly, glancing over her shoulder to see the crowd still following. When they all smiled and nodded, some waving, she smiled again before facing forward once more and adding, “I will not be telling anyone in Scotland. Not a single person.”
“Good,” he said, sounding relieved. “Then I’ll say no more about it.”
Elysande murmured agreeably to that, but her wide eyes were taking note of the people now coming out of the dwellings they were passing to watch them parade by.
“Why are ye no’ going to tell anyone in Scotland?” Conn asked suddenly, curiosity filling his voice.
“Well, they are Scots, and I suspect most Scots would be pleased to see the English king die, or at least would not care if he lived, so would not be likely to help,” she pointed out, and then added under her breath, “Besides, it appears information spreads like seeds on the wind.”
“Oh, aye, it does,” Rory assured her. “Just look at how many here know about de Buci already.”
“Oh, I am,” she muttered, glancing over her shoulder again.
Elysande breathed a sigh of relief when they finally reached the end of the street and she saw Robbie walking toward the wall. She was near enough now to see the gate. It was much smaller than the main gate, but big enough to walk the horses through without problem. They could even ride them through two apace.
“What is that noise behind us?” Rory asked, his voice tense, and Elysande glanced back to see the crowd had drawn closer to watch them leave.
“Just children playing,” she said. She wasn’t really lying—some of the children were playing as they followed. “We are approaching the gate now. Robbie is opening it.” She didn’t mention that another man was helping him.
“Thank God,” Rory said, relief heavy in his voice. “I canno’ wait to take this bloody blindfold off.”
“Aye,” Conn growled in agreement, and she almost felt guilty that they’d had to wear the blindfolds. Elysande did feel responsible. It had been at her suggestion, after all. But she hadn’t wanted Mildrede and the others fretting over their secret gate being common knowledge to men whose countrymen they considered their enemy.
“Why are we stopping?” Rory asked a moment later as she drew them to a halt behind Inan’s horse.
“We are at the gate,” she explained, and glanced from Robbie to Elizabeth as they both suddenly looked to her as if for instructions on what should be done next. Realizing that was exactly what they were waiting for, she glanced around at the men and horses and then back to Elizabeth, still holding Inan’s arm. She doubted the woman wanted to walk them out the gate, so . . .
“I guess we should get them on their mounts,” she suggested
to Robbie and Elizabeth.
When Robbie nodded and then moved to Elizabeth and Inan to help the warrior mount, Elysande glanced back toward her soldiers. “Tom, give Simon my mare and mount up. You will lead Inan’s horse until we get to the woods.”
“Should I help Conn and Rory mount first?” Tom asked as he passed her mare’s reins to Simon.
“Nay,” Rory said firmly. “Ye should help yer lady onto her mount. Conn and I can manage on our own.”
Conn grunted his agreement to that and then both men looked expectantly in her direction. Elysande didn’t realize what they were waiting for until Rory squeezed her hand gently.
“Oh,” she gasped, and released their hands. She watched with interest as Rory and Conn then followed the reins they held to their mounts’ heads, and felt their way along the horses’ sides to their saddles. She was rather impressed when both men then felt for the stirrup, inserted a foot and mounted without any aid at all. Truly, it was as if they’d practiced the maneuver.
“M’lady?”
Elysande turned to find Tom and Simon waiting next to her with her mare and sighed with resignation. They were going to have to help her mount in front of all these people. Had she had the chance to reapply her liniment this morning, she might have managed with just a leg up from one of the men, but without it . . .
Setting her mouth, she nodded grimly and stepped up beside her mare. Tom and Simon immediately moved to either side of her, clasped her elbows and lifted her as high as they could, which was just high enough for her to place her foot in the stirrup. The minute she did that, Simon released her side closest to the mare, and slid quickly out of the way and around to the other side of her mare so that she could swivel her body with Tom’s help and pretty much half throw and half drop herself sideways onto the saddle. At least that’s how it usually went, but this time, self-conscious about so many people watching, Elysande misjudged and nearly toppled herself over the horse. Tom’s hand tightened on her arm, and Simon immediately reached up to grab for her to keep her in the saddle, catching her with one hand at her lower back and one on her stomach. It was the hand at her back that was the problem. It sent a shaft of intense pain through her that had her arching her back, her face tipping skyward as she sucked in a gasping breath and struggled against the agony vibrating through her.
“Lass? What’s happening?” Rory barked with sudden panic. Elysande saw him reaching for his blindfold out of the corner of her eye, but couldn’t do a thing about it. She didn’t have air to breathe let alone speak at the moment, and Tom and Simon were too busy trying to keep her from tumbling out of the saddle to pay attention to what he was doing.
Fortunately, Elizabeth rushed to his side, and grabbed his leg, saying, “All is well. One of her men just touched her back while trying to put her in the saddle. Give her a minute and she will tell you herself she is fine.”
Elysande saw Rory’s hand drop from his face, and then closed her eyes as Simon finally removed his hand from her back to grasp her elbow instead, and the frenzied agony in her back began to calm to a dull throb. Sagging with relief, she made herself take several deep breaths.
“M’lady?” Tom asked when her breathing normalized.
Nodding, Elysande opened her eyes and then paused. The people who had been following them had rushed forward and now surrounded the horses, those closest reaching up as if to help catch her if she fell. But it was the anxiety and horror on some of their faces that caught her attention most. It made Elysande realize the plaid had fallen away from her face, leaving the bruised side on view.
Unable to cover it up at the moment with both of her men holding her arms, Elysande sighed and carefully shifted on the saddle, lifting one leg over it to sit astride the mare. The move hiked her skirts up, briefly revealing the men’s breeches she wore under her gown to everyone, before the cloak she’d pulled on over the plaid slid forward to cover it.
Once she was settled, Tom and Simon released her and only then was Elysande able to quickly pull the top of the plaid back up over her head and around the one side of her face to conceal the damage de Buci had wrought.
When Tom then gathered her mare’s reins for her and held them out, Elysande murmured, “Thank you,” and took them before looking toward Rory.
He was stiff and still in his saddle, tension in his body and expression and she realized he must be aware there was a crowd around them. They were pressing up around all the horses on all sides. Elysande was surprised he wasn’t commenting on it until she realized several of the people nearest him were giving him commentary.
“There, she’s in the saddle now and quite recovered,” an old crone was telling him soothingly at that moment.
“Aye, but gor, that de Buci fella sure did her face something awful,” someone else said, and Elysande felt her face flush with embarrassment.
“That’s not the worst of it,” someone else said. “I heard the alewife was weeping when she was telling Mrs. Elizabeth what he done to her back, arse and legs. ’Tis no wonder she needed help getting on her horse. I’m amazed she can ride if ’tis as damaged as her face.”
“M’lady?”
She glanced down at that soft voice to see Elizabeth holding out the reins to Rory’s horse.
“They mean well,” Elizabeth said quietly as Elysande took the offered reins. “But Mildrede was weeping when she told me. Bless these Scots for taking ye away to keep ye safe from him.”
Elysande managed a smile but then startled with surprise when Robbie roared, “Away with ye. They’re mounted and ready to go. Get out of the way and let ’em leave ere de Buci’s men decide to come see what the to-do is back here.”
Elysande glanced around then for the other men and saw that Simon was mounted and holding Conn’s reins, and Tom was mounted and trying to move his horse through the crowd to reach Inan to take his reins from Robbie. A task that was made much easier after Robbie’s irritated bark, as the people began to back away to give them space.
“Good luck and Godspeed, m’lady,” Elizabeth said, moving to the side to get out of the way. The sentiment was repeated by many others as their party finally started moving. Tom led the way. After glancing back to receive a nod from her, he urged his horse through the gate, pulling Inan’s mount behind. Elysande was next, leading Rory and Simon, and Conn brought up the rear. Tom kept them at a sedate walk until they heard the gate close behind them and then urged his horse to a trot. This obviously wasn’t a much-used path. Actually, there was no path to follow that she could see, and there was still snow on the ground here, but it was melting, the ground soft beneath it. She supposed that combined with the fact that the men were blindfolded was why Tom didn’t immediately break into a gallop.
“Are ye all right, lass?”
Elysande glanced around at that question from Rory to see that his face was still tense and concerned.
“Aye,” she assured him, and then offered, “A few more minutes and you should be able to remove your blindfold.”
He didn’t comment at first and then asked, “Do ye see anyone on this side o’ the wall?”
Elysande glanced around, realizing only then that it should have been the first thing she’d done. They had no idea if the English soldiers who had arrived in the city were all of them, or if some of de Buci’s men had waited outside the wall as they had done at Kynardersley. She was relieved to note that there was nothing but snow-covered ground as far as the eye could see. There was no sign of a camp, or soldiers. But they were leaving a trail of hoofprints from the gate, she saw, and hoped that wouldn’t prove to be a problem.
“Nay. ’Tis only us,” she told him.
Rory nodded, and then cleared his throat. “There sounded to be a lot o’ people at the gate when we left.”
“Aye. A few,” she said with a grimace.
“More than a few, I’d say,” he responded, his tone dry.
Elysande sighed with resignation, sure she was about to receive another lecture on telling people abou
t de Buci, but he surprised her.
“’Twas obvious they were all eager to help,” was all he said, and she relaxed a little.
They rode in silence after that until they reached the trees. Tom started to slow then but didn’t stop for a few minutes. Until they couldn’t see the wall anymore for the trees, she realized when he brought the party to a halt and she glanced back.
“Can I take off the blindfold now?”
Rory’s question brought her head back around to see that Tom and Simon were looking at her, waiting for her answer. “Aye. Remove your blindfolds,” she said loudly enough for Conn and Inan to hear as well.
The men couldn’t get them off quickly enough, and only after doing so and looking around did the three Scots relax.
“I wonder where Alick and the others got to?” Simon commented.
“They’ll be farther along the path,” Rory answered. “I told him no’ to stop until he was a good distance into the wood.” When Elysande glanced at him in question, he shrugged. “That way they could no’ see where we came out o’ the wall. There’s little sense in our being blindfolded if they could tell where the gate was, and I did no’ want to put any o’ them in the position to have to choose between keeping their word to the English, or serving their country with such valuable information if there is another war.”
Elysande felt her mouth slide into a smile and murmured, “You are a good man, Rory Buchanan.”
He smiled, but looked a little embarrassed by the compliment and then shifted his attention to the men. “Conn and Simon take the lead. Tom and Inan, follow behind Elysande and me. Let’s find the others.”
Her smile widened at the words as she noted he was pairing her men off with his own. She felt it was a good sign, though she couldn’t have said why exactly.
