Wearing a Mask - a Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Book 14)

by Lisa Shea

  “Luigi!”

  There was the sound of quickly moving feet, and the man’s slender face carefully poked into the tent. “How can I help?”

  His eyes glanced from her to the tatters of the dress, and a warm smile warmed his gaze. “Un momento,” he promised, and then he was gone again.

  True to his word, it was barely a breath before an elegant, crimson dress was tossed in onto the bed through the closed flaps. “I hope you do not mind –”

  “I do not mind at all,” Isabel reassured him, looking over the fabric. It mattered not who had worn it before. It would serve to cover her form, and indeed Marianne seemed to have about her build and size. It would do quite nicely.

  In a moment she had pulled it over her head. She buckled on her dagger and stepped outside. She slowly eased her way down the hill, making her way to join Philip and his friends on the rock-strewn beach.

  Philip turned at the motion, his eyes sharpened, and his hand swept toward his hip before he stopped and laughed. “My God, Isabel, you could be Marianne’s sister,” he grinned. “Lucky we did not stain that dress much, and the crimson color matches the few flecks in any case.”

  She carefully limped to stand alongside him, and his arm came around her waist to support her as if he had always belonged at her side.

  She drew her gaze out to the horizon. “What is the ship?”

  Three pairs of eyes followed hers to look at the brown shape which grew ever closer. Philip’s voice held concern. “It cannot be a search party, not so quickly,” he murmured.

  She nodded in agreement. “The sailors and Marianne must have had an escape route. This could be them, wondering what happened.”

  She looked down at the outfit she wore, and a smile slowly rose on her lips.

  Philip’s brow creased, and then he shook his head. “Oh no you don’t,” he warned.

  “Why not?” she countered. “It seems Marianne had hired the dead sailors without meeting them before, and they were none too happy at the arrangement. For all we know these incoming men were also hired at a distance. Even if they met her once, they might only recall her dress and general shape.” She put her hands on her hips. “You yourself mistook me for her, just now, and you certainly know me more …” Her eyes brightened as she remembered his tender kisses. “A bit more than a stranger would.”

  Luigi blushed; Johann laughed, nudging his friend in the shoulder.

  Philip remained serious. “What if they want to take you away with them?” he pressed.

  She looked around at the passengers scattered along the shore. “They could not just take me,” she pointed out. “The whole point of their plan seemed to be to keep Marianne’s role low key. If they took me away and left everyone here to wait for another ship to come by, that would be commented on. And they can hardly expect to slay the entire gaggle of passengers.” She shook her head. “They would need to rescue all of us at this point, and play the heroes.”

  Philip’s gaze held her steadily. “I would not let you be alone with them.”

  She nodded. “The captain and sailors were going with her,” she pointed out. “They, apparently, would protect her with their lives. So I hardly think they would leave her side when they got onto their new ship.”

  “That is for sure,” he murmured.

  She looked across at the other men. “There would be some risk –”

  Johann’s voice was gruff. “Risk was facing against the Cathars when our troop was outnumbered five to one,” he replied, his eyes on the horizon. “To stand by your side would be an honor.”

  Luigi gave a bow. “As if we could leave your side,” he added with a grin.

  A deep laugh emerged from Braun. “Absolutely; the lass would simply get herself skewered again,” he agreed.

  Philip’s eyes held hers. “We will stand with you,” he stated, his voice brooking no argument. “So how do we play this?”

  “We all heard Marianne,” stated Isabel, settling down to the task. “I can mimic her voice. The captain spoke of a man named Eric –”

  Johann’s brow creased. “Eric the black?”

  Philip turned to him. “It could be. You know of him?”

  Johann nodded. “Word is that he’s a ruthless French mercenary with a massive network of spies. If anyone would be involved in this, Eric the black would be.”

  His gaze turned to Isabel. “If you are his woman, then you would undoubtedly be equally as ruthless, as calculating.”

  She chuckled. “I imagine I could manage that.”

  Luigi looked back at the passengers. “We would want to get the innocents to safety, just in case things go poorly.”

  Philip nodded. “Let us get into motion then. I imagine we have a fifteen minutes at the most.”

  The beach was soon a blur of activity as the families moved their children and supplies up onto the hilltop. Two red-headed girls peered nervously from the tent’s flaps while the adults stood along the front, ready to a person to defend their lives.

  Philip and the other men had changed into the sailor’s outfits, and Isabel smiled to see them dressed in the worn, weathered clothing. There was something about their bearing which belied the roughly patched outfits they wore. Philip came over to her and handed her a crossbow. “Have you used one of these before?”

  She took the bolt from his hand and ratcheted it into position, drawing a bead on the boat which was now anchoring a short distance from shore. “Shall I give the figurehead a third eye?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “I should have known.” He passed the other crossbows out to his team, then took his place by Isabel’s side. “What do we do if they realize you are an imposter?”

  She grinned in delight. “Then we perforate their legs, to punish them for putting us through that salt-laced hell.”

  Johann’s eyes twinkled. “I like this woman.”

  A boat was lowered from the side, and in a moment a low craft with six men was making its way toward shore. Philip’s shoulders relaxed, and Isabel felt his assurance. Even if these sailors were well versed in combat, they would be hard pressed to last long against Philip and his men.

  She stood, waiting, on the sandy shore as the boat made its way in with the low waves. Soon it ground to a halt in the sand and the crew clambered their way out onto shore.

  A tall, wiry man with greasy brown hair stormed up the beach, his small, dark eyes flashing with irritation. “Marianne! And just what the hell are you doing here?”

  Isabel did not hesitate. She took a strong step forward, drew back her right hand, and slapped him hard against the face. The pirate’s crew dropped their hands toward their swords, then froze. Isabel had no doubt that a wall of crossbows was now aimed firmly at their chests.

  “That is for nearly drowning us all in that storm last night,” she snarled, pitching her voice to have the same sharpness she had heard from the woman on the boat. “You will be lucky if Eric does not eviscerate you himself before he has you drawn and quartered.”

  The man blanched, one hand rising to press against his reddening cheek. “But we were –”

  “You were not,” she interrupted. “And now we are here, and we have to undo this disaster as quickly as possible.”

  Beads of sweat rose on his brow. “The two couriers?”

  She gave a short shake of the head. “The fools went up on deck to have a private conference about something and were swept overboard by a rogue wave.” She sent a withering look towards Luigi. “I told this imbecile to go in after them, but the coward refused. Eric will have something to say about that.”

  Color eased into the sailor’s skin, and relief smoothed some of the tightness. Isabel could see the wheels turning as he laid out a plan to cause the burden of blame to fall on someone else.

  She leant forward, adding a steely tone to her voice. “You have one chance here to make things right. We have to get all of us – including the passengers – onto a fresh boat. The quicker we land in Dover, the quicker I can get
the task done. There is still a chance of pulling this off.”

  His eyes widened at that, and he swallowed as if his throat had gone suddenly dry. His voice, when it came, was hoarse. “You are going to … you will handle it yourself?”

  She pitched her voice to be lined with pure ice. “Why, do you think I am not capable of it?”

  An incredulous smile spread across his face, and his eyes gleamed with respect. “God’s teeth. You are all the stories say you are.” His grin grew feral. “If you ever tire of Eric, I would gladly take you on myself.”

  Philip let out a low growl behind her, but she let her eyes brighten, as if contemplating it. “I will keep your offer in mind,” she murmured.

  The man glanced behind him to one of his sailors. “We’ll need a larger boat to fit them all. Was that sloop still harbored in the wharf when we left?”

  “Aye, captain,” agreed a weathered man missing two of his front teeth. “Hale and ready.”

  The captain nodded, turning back to Isabel. “We will be back with it tomorrow afternoon,” he promised. “Tomorrow evening at the latest.” His gaze drew down her form again. “Of course, if you wanted to come with us now –”

  She gave a sharp shake of her head. “And ruin everything we have been working for? No, I must be simply another passenger on the list, and we must all be rescued together.”

  He nodded. “Makes sense.” He gave an awkward version of a low bow. “Until then, M’Lady.”

  He turned. In a moment he and his men were clambering into their rowboat and pressing hard through the surf toward their ship.

  Philip came up on her right side, his crossbow still held on target, and the other men flanked them as they watched the smaller boat meet up with the larger. Soon the sails were out and the ship was racing along the waves toward the horizon.

  Philip finally unnocked his bolt, flexing his fingers. “I do not like this at all,” he muttered, his eyes drawing from the distant speck to Isabel’s face.

  “And yet now we have safe passage to Dover,” Isabel pointed out. “The passengers will all be perfectly fine once we get there. It is probably the best outcome we could have hoped for.”

  Philip’s face creased with worry. “Right up until the pirates realize we’re not who we say we are,” he pointed out.

  Isabel smiled reassuringly at him. “We already passed the largest hurdle,” she stated. “They have accepted us as the woman and her crew. Our new forms and faces will embed on their memory, and they will barely remember what they saw before.”

  “And the men on shore?” pressed Philip.

  “If we have trouble on shore in Dover, then we do,” she countered. “At least by then all of the passengers will be safe. If we have to fight at that point, then we fight.”

  Johan’s eyes brightened, and his hand fell to the sword at his side. “I would not mind; I am getting a bit rusty.”

  Somehow, Isabel doubted that any of the men around her were in the least bit out of practice.

  Philip put out an arm to her, and it seemed second nature to take it, to allow him to gently help her back up the slope. She was more tired than she’d like to admit by the time she was sitting again on the bed. She took her time brushing out her hair, listening to the low murmur of the men’s voices by the campfire.

  Finally she pushed through the front flap, nodding her greetings to the men as she eased herself down at Philip’s side. His arm came around her waist with a natural warmth, and she leant against him, raising her lips to press a soft kiss against the edge of his chin. A low groan settled out of him, almost a soft purr.

  Luigi raised an eyebrow at Johann, and the man nodded, turning a pair of apologetic eyes to Philip.

  “You know it is my duty to speak up.”

  Philip’s fingers pressed a bit more tightly into Isabel’s side, and she stretched at the delicious tension of the feeling.

  Philip’s voice was even. “About?”

  Johann dipped his head, but continued speaking. “We are about to undertake a careful deception, one which relies on those around us seeing what we want them to see.” His eyes flickered up toward the crowd finishing their packing on the beach. “Many innocent lives depend on us.”

  Philip nodded. “And you feel my attitude towards Isabel might compromise that?”

  Johann gave a wry grin. “God’s teeth, man, the woman is practically glowing in your arms. And when you touch her, it’s as if you’d take on a thousand infidels to keep her safe.”

  “That I would,” agreed Philip, but there was a note of acceptance in his voice.

  Luigi’s thinner voice piped up. “She is, after all, supposed to be Eric’s woman,” he pointed out. “And this Eric fellow seems to be a fairly jealous man. Not one to be crossed. So even if she did –” He blushed, looking down for a moment. “Did share her favors to get her goals met, I think she might be circumspect about it.”

  Isabel nodded in agreement. “I imagine you are both right,” she said quietly. She turned to look up at Philip to suggest –

  Her eyes met his and all other thought was lost. He was right for her. Somehow she knew it, deep in her soul, and nothing could ever shake her from that truth.

  Johann sighed. “Or, perhaps we pray that Eric dies in a tragic accident and never sees the way you two look at each other. For, if he does, all hope is lost.”

  Chapter 5

  The ship was larger, the sails grander, but it was the same obsequious captain stepping out of the rowboat into the evening dusk. His hands rubbed together with anticipation as he strode toward the group.

  “Just as requested, and we have perfect weather for the sail back tomorrow morning,” he reported as he came up before Isabel. “Plenty of space for the rabble in the hold.” His gaze lingered on her curves. “You, of course, shall sleep with me.”

  Phillip gave a low growl, and the captain’s gaze snapped back with a flare of jealousy. “This is my boat,” he challenged. “Yours lies mangled in pieces.”

  Isabel frosted her gaze. “Just who has paid for this boat?” she asked in an icy tone.

  The captain’s thin face went pale. “Well … Eric did,” he admitted.

  Isabel’s voice stayed tight. “And who has ultimate say over what happens on this boat?”

  His lips pressed together into a thin line, but at last he nodded. “You do, of course.”

  “I do,” she confirmed. “And I shall be staying in the captain’s cabin with my bodyguards. They stay by my side until I reach Dover. Is that clear?”

  “Absolutely,” he agreed with a low mutter.

  “Then get all the rest of the passengers on board,” she ordered. “I will wait to go on last. I want to be on that mangy sloop for as little time as possible.”

  His lips pursed, but he held his tongue. He nodded to his men, and in a moment the two henchmen were in motion, striding toward the passengers and helping to carry items to the rowboat.

  The captain’s gaze moved back to hold Philip’s with challenge. “This is still my boat,” he warned the other man. “Men who cause trouble have been known to end up falling overboard.”

  Isabel could hear the calm smile in Philip’s response. “I would like to see you try.”

  * * *

  Isabel stepped into the small cabin, looking around her. It was similar in layout to the one on the beached ship. A bed was built into the wall on the port side. A small table was bolted to the floor alongside it, with a long bench connected to the starboard wall. A large, leather-strapped trunk was latched closed.

  The captain waited in the doorway, his eyes lit up with hope. She turned on him, drawing a frown onto her lips. “It’ll have to do, I suppose,” she growled. “You say we’ll be there mid-morning tomorrow?”

  He nodded, a smile growing. “We leave at first light. And if you need anything –”

  “Out!” she snapped. “I need to talk with my men.”

  His eyes darkened, but he nodded, turning and heading back up the ladder. In a
moment Philip, Johann, Luigi, and Braun had piled into the room, filling it with their presence. Braun pulled the door shut behind him.

  There was a long, loud creak from above, and Philip glanced out the window. “They’re making us fast for the night,” he confirmed. “Now it’s a matter of them doing what they said and bringing us safely to Dover.”

  Johann nudged his head up. “Clear weather now,” he pointed out. “Once we get moving, it shouldn’t be a problem to know which way they’re taking us.”

  Isabel sat back against the bed, absently rubbing at her leg. “They wouldn’t risk trying to take on all of us,” she pointed out. “They’re easily outclassed and they know it. I imagine they’ll do what they were hired to do, so they get paid. It’s the only way they salvage themselves out of this mess.”

  Luigi glanced at Philip. “What happens when we get to Dover?”

  Philip looked over Isabel in consideration. “So far it does seem that people take Isabel at face value. It could be that her contact in Dover was set up in the same way. We talk with him and see what the next step involves. Given that the message is from the Orsinis, I would venture a guess that its intended destination is London.” His gaze shadowed. “Eric is going through an intense amount of effort to get his hands on whatever is inside that silver case.”

  He turned to Johann. “What do you know about this Eric?”

  Johann shrugged. “Whispers and rumors. The nobles who rose up against King John use mercenaries heavily; Eric seems to be the most powerful of the lot. I’m not sure if Eric actually wants to take the King down or just profit on the chaos that surrounds any discontent.”

  Philip tapped his fingers. “So was this message initially meant for King John? Or perhaps one of his allies?”

  Isabel gave a long yawn, then clamped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

  Philip gave her hand a squeeze. “We can discuss this later. Right now, you need your rest.”

  Johann glanced at Braun. “I’ll take the first watch. If I sit at the foot of the stairs I should be able to ensure nobody goes near this door and that the other passengers are safe as well. I’ll wake you in four hours.”