Lord of Lyonsbridge

by Ana Seymour

  Ellen had to admit that the morning had not passed unpleasantly. After her encounter with Walter Little, she’d gone back inside and had accepted the Cooper family’s offer of breakfast. The thick slabs of bread and grease had tasted better than many a feast she’d had in Louis the Fat’s court, and she felt her spirits begin to recover.

  Surely Connor would come back soon, and she could convince him to end this madness and return her to the castle. By now Sebastian would be scouring the countryside for trace of her. If these people wanted to keep their precious hideout a secret, holding her prisoner would not be the way to do it.

  In the meantime, she was enjoying watching the twins’ antics. The night in the cold cave had so far not affected Agnes Cooper’s health, and she looked on fondly as Abel, Karyn, Sarah and John played counting games with the rocks from the cave floor. They appeared unconcerned that they’d just had to give up their home and most of their possessions.

  “You have a remarkable family, Mistress Cooper,” Ellen told her.

  “Aye. They be good children,” she answered. “I know not what I would do if aught happened to any one of them.” A shadow crossed her face.

  “I’m so glad Sarah’s all right,” Ellen said in a low voice. “And sorry that ‘twas one of my family’s retainers who put her in such a situation.”

  “’Tis not your fault, milady. The children and I know that. You’ve been more than kind to us.”

  Ellen marveled that the woman’s voice was devoid of bitterness. The Wakelin bailiff had attacked her daughter, had almost killed her son and had put the entire family in danger of their lives, yet her lack of blame was obviously sincere.

  Ellen looked around the cave. She’d had a little contact during the morning with a few of its disenfranchised inhabitants, enough to know that Agnes Cooper’s generosity of spirit was not shared by all. She suspected that there were even some here who would be happy to slit her Norman throat.

  Once again she searched the cavern for sign of Connor. Though he was the one who had brought her here, she knew she would somehow feel safer in his presence.

  As if in response to her thoughts, Agnes Cooper suddenly said under her breath, “Now here’s an unsavory crew.”

  Four men whom Ellen had seen earlier talking with Walter Little were walking toward the spot where the Cooper family had set up their camp. The children stopped playing and fell silent as the men approached.

  She’d heard Walter Little call the man in the front of the group Humbert. He stopped in front of her with a sneering smile. The others lagged a step or two behind.

  “Is this the high-and-mighty mistress of Lyonsbridge sitting in the dust like a pauper?” the man asked.

  Before Ellen could reply, Agnes Cooper drew herself up and said, “Humbert White, where are your manners? Your departed goodwife will be moaning in her grave.”

  Humbert hesitated a moment, but then said, “My goodwife is in her grave thanks to the likes of these.” He gave a disgusted nod toward Ellen.

  “Marjorie died long before the Lady Ellen’s family came to Lyonsbridge, Humbert. And you’ll answer to Master Brand if you mistreat her.”

  White’s bluster died a little at the last comment. “What’s he going to do with her?” he asked sullenly.

  Agnes looked over at Ellen, who was recoiling in distaste from the rude stares of the three men behind Humbert White. Their leering gazes roamed freely over her body in a fashion she’d never before had to endure.

  “That’ll be Master Brand’s decision, I warrant,” the widow said firmly.

  “Mayhap not. Brand’s not here, and we’ve been thinking that ‘er cousin would pay good money to get ‘er back,” he said.

  Ellen looked up suddenly. Was it possible that these men would escort her back to the castle if she offered some kind of reward? But as soon as the idea entered her head, she dismissed it. It made her shudder to think of being out on the road alone at the mercy of such knavish characters.

  Agnes shook her head and waved at the man standing in front of her as if he were a pesky gnat. “Leave us be, Humbert. Nothing’s to be done with Lady Ellen until Connor Brand says so, and well you know it.”

  Humbert looked around at the men behind him. One of them shrugged; the others looked away. “Mayhap we’re tired of listening to Brand,” he muttered. “He’s not lord around here anymore.”

  But after another curious glance at Ellen, he turned and the four men wandered away. Ellen sagged against the rock wall in relief. The men had made her skin feel crawly.

  “Don’t mind them,” the widow said, patting her hand. “They’ve too much time on their hands here, I trow, and find it easy to get into mischief.”

  “What did he mean about Connor?” Ellen asked. “When he said that he’s not lord here now?”

  Agnes looked away at the children. “’Tis just Humbert’s grumblings. He was ever a troublemaker, and worse since he lost his wife.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Marjorie died in childbirth, but Humbert blames the Normans, begging your pardon, milady. ‘Twas during the worst of the fighting, and they were forced to flee the village just as the child was about to arrive. He lost them both, and some say he’s not been the same man since.”

  Ellen’s eyes followed the four men as they made their way toward the back of the cave, where another group of idle men were sitting around a fire and passing a jug among them. She shivered. The widow was right. It was not a healthy situation for men to be cooped up in a place like this day after day with no gainful occupation.

  “When will Connor-Master Brand-be back?” she asked, hoping Agnes might have better information than Walter Little.

  The widow gave her a gentle smile of understanding. “Connor’s a comely man, is he not? ‘Tis a shame that the two of you are from such different worlds. You’d make a handsome couple.”

  Ellen’s thoughts flashed back to the moment in the stable yard when he’d lifted her in his arms. It seemed a lifetime ago. At the time, in the throes of their passion, it had made sense to her, but now as she looked around at the scraggly Saxon residents of the cave, she couldn’t imagine anything more absurd than a liaison between her and this stable master.

  “I’m only interested because it seems that everyone’s waiting for Master Brand to determine what’s to become of me.”

  Agnes nodded. “Be patient, child, and have no fear. No one here will dare harm you when they know you’re here by Connor’s orders.”

  She spoke the words with absolute certainty, making Ellen wonder once again what the horse master’s relationship was to these people that they deferred to him on such matters.

  She gave an irritated sigh and got to her feet. “I’m going to go ask Walter Little if he’ll arrange the signal or whatever they have to do so that we can walk outside for a few minutes. If I have to spend much more time in this cave without seeing the sky, I’ll go mad.”

  With the children trooping behind her, she went off in search of the one-eyed man.

  After Walter Little consulted with his mysterious network of lookouts, he allowed Ellen and the children to walk outside for a spell, though he’d cautioned gruffly, “No climbing up the cliffs.”

  They followed the sound of the water around the rock and were rewarded when they emerged to find a length of sandy beach. The twins clapped their hands in delight over the sight of the vast water stretching out in front of them. They had a good hour of play, running back and forth to keep from being caught by the teasing waves, before Walter came to fetch them back inside.

  After the brief freedom, the cave seemed even gloomier. How could people continue living in a place like this year after year? Ellen thought. Would the Coopers be condemned to such a fate? The thought kept her sober all through the simple supper she shared with the family.

  Connor had not returned all day, and she could get no response to her questions about him. Once again she began to consider escape. She had no idea how she would find her wa
y back to Lyonsbridge, but if she got away from this place, there must be people around who would help her find her way home, especially if offered a nice reward.

  She’d noticed that most of the men in the cave had spent much of the afternoon and evening drinking from their jugs of ale. It might be easier to slip away at night, when most of them were sleeping or in a drunken daze. If only Walter Little would stop watching her. She hadn’t seen the old soldier take so much as a sip of the brew that was being passed so freely among the others.

  “Bring your blankets over to sleep with us, milady,” Agnes told her. “I’d not trust some of these men after the show Humbert White put on earlier.”

  The older woman’s skin had taken on an unhealthy sallow tone, Ellen noticed, though perhaps it was the dimness of the cave. “How long do you and the chil dren plan to stay here?” she asked gently.

  The widow looked distressed for just a moment, then the usual serenity returned to her eyes. “As long as God wills, child. Forever, if ‘tis needed to keep my Johnny safe.”

  Ellen shook her head. “If I could just go back and speak with my cousin, mayhap we’d settle this and you could go back to your home.”

  Agnes smiled. “Bless you, child. I’ve often thought that if they’d only leave things to us women the world would be a saner place. But we have to await Connor. He’ll say what’s best.”

  Ellen looked across the cave. Walter Little was propped upright against a cave wall, apparently asleep, but mysteriously, when she looked at him, his good eye opened and he gave her a nod.

  “Who’s to say that Connor will even come back? He may be worried about securing his own position at the castle.”

  “He’ll be back.” There was utter conviction in the widow’s voice.

  Ellen heaved a sigh and stood to go fetch her blankets. In truth, the thought of stealing out into the night to make her way alone across England was not appealing. She picked a path across the cave, careful not to disturb some already sleeping inhabitants. “Connor will be back,” the widow had assured her. Aye, but when?

  The next day passed much as had the previous one. Walter Little allowed Ellen and the children to leave for short walks at midmorning and again at midafternoon. The rest of the day Ellen stayed close to Agnes Cooper, hoping to avoid any further confrontations with the men of the cave.

  By evening, the widow had begun coughing again. Sarah was watching her mother with worried eyes, and John had started pacing back and forth the length of the cave. “Where’s Master Brand?” he asked, reaching the end of one of his trips. “I want to know what’s happening back at Lyonsbridge. Maybe I should head back there myself.”

  His mother looked stricken at the idea, and with surprising forcefulness, Sarah turned on her brother and said, “Don’t talk like a dimwit, John. You’re the one they’ll be looking for. What’s the point of any of us being here if you walk right back into their arms?”

  Ellen expected that Agnes would say something to stop the fighting between her two oldest children, but she looked too weary to speak.

  “Sarah’s right, John,” Ellen said gently, reaching up to put a hand on the boy’s sleeve. “You of all people have to stay hidden. I’m sure Master Brand will be back before too long to let us know what has transpired.”

  But sundown came and then a mostly silent dinner, with Agnes eating next to nothing, and still there was no word of the horse master. Walter Little claimed he had heard nothing from the village or from the castle.

  The twins fell into an early sleep and Sarah insisted that her mother lie down, though the older woman protested that she had no need of pampering. Ellen, John and Sarah stayed awake, staring into the tiny fire. No one spoke, as it seemed there was little to say. There was little to do but wait.

  Most of the cave fires had been banked and the inhabitants seemed to have settled down to sleep when John suddenly jumped up and said, “I can’t stand this anymore. I’m going. It’s dark and I’ll take care that no one sees me.”

  “John, no!” Sarah said again, sharply. “Mother’s worse, and if she wakes to find you gone, who knows what it’ll do to her.”

  “I’ll come back before dawn,” he said. “I’ve got to know.”

  Ellen looked across the cave toward Walter Little. The old soldier had stretched out on the ground with a blanket and appeared to be sleeping. If John was intent on leaving, perhaps this was her opportunity to leave as well.

  “If you go, I’m going with you,” she said.

  John looked at her doubtfully. “I couldn’t let you do that, milady.”

  “You can’t stop me,” she answered smugly.

  “I intend to go running.”

  “Then I’ll run, too.”

  John made a harsh sound of exasperation.

  “You see, John,” his sister said. “It’s impossible. Why don’t you just lie yourself down and go to sleep? Mayhap by morning Master Brand’ll be here.”

  John looked down at Ellen again, hesitant. “I can’t stand it here anymore,” he said.

  Ellen jumped up before he could have time to think better. “Then let’s go. It’ll be safer with two of us keeping watch. And if the worst should happen and they catch us on the way back, I’ll be there to be sure that nothing happens to you.”

  “What will you do when we get there?” John asked.

  “I’ll go back to the castle and start working to get things straightened out so that you and your family can leave this cave.”

  “I know not what Master Brand would say.”

  Ellen was utterly sick of hearing people wonder what Connor Brand would say or do. “It’s not healthy here for your mother,” she said firmly. “Her cough’s returning. We need to do something to get her some help. At the very least, she needs some of the tonic that worked for her before.”

  This finally seemed to convince John. “All right,” he said, with a quick nod of his head. “Don’t wake Mother,” he added to Sarah. “I’ll be back before dawn, I promise.”

  The two young people moved silently around the edge of the cave and out into the night air, which was damp and chilly. John put his finger to his lip to urge Ellen to stay quiet; and motioned to her to follow him.

  “We’ll take a shortcut up the cliffs,” he whispered.

  Ellen hiked up her skirts and held them awkwardly with one hand while she used the other to help boost herself up behind John. The climb was almost straight up, and it was all she could do to keep up with the nimble young lad. It felt so good to be free that she didn’t care about her bursting lungs or the scratches on her soft palms, but she was happy to see the top edge of the cliff finally come into view.

  “Just a couple more feet, milady,” John told her in barely audible tones. He disappeared over the top for a moment, then his head reappeared and he held his hand out to her.

  She let him help pull her up the final steps and collapsed on the ground, her legs and arms shaking from the exertion.

  “Well done, milady,” he told her with a note of admiration.

  She grinned over at him. “Aye, we made it, John.”

  “You’re tickle-brained fools, the both of you,” said an unmistakable voice from a few feet away in the dark.

  “Master Brand!” John exclaimed, and Ellen’s exhilaration fled.

  Chapter Eleven

  Connor’s voice was icy with fury. “What were the two of you doing?” he asked. “Trying to break your necks out here in the middle of the night so they’d find you washed up by the waves on the morrow?”

  John scuffed his feet and did not meet the horse master’s eyes. “You didn’t come back, and I wanted to find out what was happening,” he mumbled.

  Connor shook his head. “I’d given you credit for more sense, John Cooper.”

  “Aye,” the boy said sadly.

  “I’ll make no apology,” Ellen told him.

  She could see the glint of his smile in the moonlight. “I’ll warrant you won’t, milady, but that doesn’t mean this wasn
’t an addlepated stunt.”

  “’Tis an easy climb,” she said.

  “No,” he said firmly. “’Tis not.” He turned to John. “And you, lad, what did you expect to do once you reached the top? The countryside is swarming with Norman soldiers who’d vie for the prize of putting a skewer through your gullet.”

  “I’d thought to find you.”

  “They’re looking for me, too,” Connor said.

  “For you?” Ellen asked in alarm.

  “Aye. It seems that my disappearance the night of Sir William’s murder was noted. I’ve been declared an outlaw as well as John.”

  “They can’t accuse you, Master Brand,” John said. “If ‘tis so, then I’ll go to them and confess.”

  “Don’t be a dolt, boy,” Connor said harshly. “No one’s going anywhere, and particularly not tonight. I’ve not slept these two nights past.” He gave a low whistle and Thunder came walking toward them in the dark. “I’ll have to take the path with my horse, John. Can I trust you to make your way back down the cliff and into the cave without diversion?”

  John nodded, then looked uncertainly at Ellen.

  “The lady Ellen will ride down with me,” Connor said. His tone brooked no argument. “Milady,” he said, with a gesture toward his horse.

  Ellen gave a nod of reassurance to John, who then turned and disappeared over the edge of the cliff. “I’ll go down to the cave with you tonight,” she told Connor, “but tomorrow you must take me back or release me to my own efforts. ‘Tis only complicating the problems to hold me here.”

  Connor’s face was as hard as the stone cliff beneath them. “’Tis complicating more than you realize, milady, but I’m not prepared to let you go and put all who inhabit this place at risk of being slaughtered by your father.”

  “My father?”

  “Aye. Lord Wakelin himself is crossing the channel this very hour with a force large enough to lay waste to this land in a way not seen since the days of the Conquerer himself.”

  “Because of Sir William?” she gasped.