Cast Love Aside (14 page)

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Authors: Flora Speer

Tags: #romance, #adventure, #medieval

BOOK: Cast Love Aside
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“I needed to hear it. I had a right to know.
Let me go, Magnus. I’ve stopped crying.”

“Put her down,” Royce ordered quietly.
“Ladies, come into the solar. We will talk there.”

“My lord,” Alice said, “this is horrifying
news. Knowing it, what will you do with Count Erland?”

“Lord Royce will give me a sword,” Lilianne
said, “and I will see to Erland.” She stood with feet apart, hands
fisted at her sides, knowing her murderous fury showed on her face,
and not caring who saw it.

“I cannot allow you to seek personal
vengeance,” Royce told her. “Erland holds much useful information.
We need him alive.”

“I need him dead for what he has done.”
Lilianne lifted her chin, glaring at Royce with firm resolve.
“Vengeance is my right as the daughter of Lord Paul de Sainte Inge.
More than a right; it is my duty.”

“Kill Erland now,” Magnus said, “and you will
never learn what he has done with Gilbert.”

It was the one argument that could stop her
rage. She knew killing a boy was nothing to Erland after having
arranged his own brother's death. Part of Lilianne's heart feared
that Gilbert was already dead and that same fear fueled her desire
to see Erland punished. No one would fault her for demanding
retribution from him. Yet, amazingly in the face of her new and
terrible knowledge, another part of her – the devoted sister –
dared to hope that Gilbert was still alive.

“I know you and Royce visit Erland every
day,” she said to Magnus.

“To question him,” Magnus admitted. “As Royce
just told you, Erland knows a great deal about King Louis's secret
activities.”

“Perhaps you should have tried a bit of
torture,” Lilianne said, still smoldering with outrage. “Or at
least tried the threat of it.”

“We have asked Erland about your brother,”
Royce said. “Repeatedly, and in many ways. Erland tells us nothing.
As for torture, information learned by it cannot be relied upon.
Apply enough pain and a man will say whatever his torturers want
him to say in hope of making the pain stop. Such admissions are not
dependably truthful.

“If you like,” Royce continued, “you may join
Magnus and me after the midday meal tomorrow, when we speak to your
uncle again. Perhaps your angry presence will inspire him to reveal
something interesting. Now, I suggest that you and Alice return to
bed while we continue our work of decoding Erland's writings. Since
we’ve broken his code, I want to read all of these documents before
confronting him. Armed with information he’s not aware we have, we
stand a better chance of making him talk enough to tell us what we
want to know about his spying activities.”

“He is no longer my uncle,” Lilianne said,
coldly and clearly. “Not after what he has done.”

“I understand,” Royce said gently.

“Lilianne,” Magnus offered, “I'll gladly
carry you back to your room.”

“No.” She put up both hands to forestall his
advance. “Don't touch me. Nor you, either, Alice. No one touch me.
I don't want help. I can walk on my own.”

Magnus noted the way she squared her
shoulders. He saw the proud line of her spine as she walked away
with Alice hovering at her side. To his physical desire for
Lilianne he now added a deep appreciation of her courage, her
loyalty, and her strength of character. If Royce had given her the
sword she wanted, she'd have made Erland pay for the havoc he had
wrought on her family. Lilianne was a woman whom any man would be
honored to serve with respect and devotion for a lifetime.

With a sigh he tore his gaze from her
departing figure and rejoined Royce, who was already back at work
on Erland's documents.

 

* * * * *

 

The Lilianne who came to the solar for the
next midday meal was pale, composed, and much too quiet for
Magnus's liking. Only a slight puffiness of her eyelids betrayed
the tears she had certainly shed for her father and her brother. In
keeping with her self-controlled demeanor, her thick, curly hair
was slicked back and bound into a single tight braid. The severe
style revealed the beautiful shape of her skull and emphasized the
lines of sorrow on her lovely face. Even her bright blue gown
seemed to have lost some of its cheerful shading out of respect for
her terrible grief.

Alice, looking equally somber, entered the
solar at Lilianne's side, and Magnus felt warm gratitude for the
girl's unfailing support of her friend.

“My lord,” Lilianne said the moment she saw
Royce, “have you finished decoding Erland's documents? Have you
learned anything more about my brother?”

“Please, Lord Royce,” Alice spoke up quickly,
“if you possess any information, I beg you to bribe her with it, to
make her eat. Lilianne scarcely slept last night, and she has eaten
nothing since rising at dawn.”

“Alice,” William said, seizing her hand and
drawing it to the crook of his elbow, “you look worn out, too. I
insist that you ride with me after we've eaten. Leaving the castle
for an hour or two will refresh you. I have convinced Royce that
you will be safe with me, especially with Braedon coming along for
chaperone and several men-at-arms to protect us.”

“I am the very best of chaperones,” Braedon
said, turning his familiar grin on Alice. “I know all the naughty
tricks that young men play on fair maidens. I've tried them myself,
you see, and I won't allow William to work them on you.”

“I cannot leave Lilianne when she’s in such
distress,” Alice protested, blushing a little at Braedon’s
remarks.

“Yes, you can,” Lilianne said. “Later, I’ll
tell you everything Erland reveals. For I am holding Lord Royce to
his promise that I may attend his daily questioning of that
miserable villain.”

“Fortunately, we are no longer entirely
dependent on Erland for information,” Magnus said.

“You know something about Gilbert!” Lilianne
turned to him with hope in her eyes. “Tell me at once!”

“Now, let the bribery begin,” Royce said. He
held out a hand to Lilianne in a gesture that was commanding and
inviting at the same time. “You will sit, dear lady, and eat some
of the excellent meat pie the servants are bringing, and you will
drink a cup of wine. And you will contain your impatience until the
meal has been served and we are private once more.”

Magnus saw Lilianne take a breath in
preparation for an objection to Royce's insistent tone. Then she
looked at the dozen or so servants who were carrying platters into
the solar. With a nod to indicate she understood Royce's use of the
word,
private,
she meekly accepted her host's hand and
allowed him to lead her to the seat next to his. Magnus sat across
from them, between Alice and Braedon, so he could watch Lilianne’s
reaction when Royce divulged what they had learned as night slowly
lightened into day. Once she knew, he intended to go to her side
immediately.

With Royce gently urging her, Lilianne did
eat, though not as much as Magnus would have liked. She kept her
eagerness under control until the servants finally left them, until
the platters were removed and only bowls of raisins and dried
apples, and the usual basket of nuts in their shells, remained on
the table.

“Now, then,” she said to Royce as the last
servant disappeared down the steps to the hall, “tell me what you
and Magnus have learned.”

She sent a quick glance in Magnus’s
direction, a hopeful yet frightened look that made him yearn to
reach across the table and clasp both of her hands. With some
difficulty, he restrained himself, knowing what Royce was going to
say.

“First,” Royce began, looking from Lilianne
to Alice and back again, “I want both of you to be aware that
Norbard has for some years been my contact at Manoir Sainte
Inge.”

“I know it,” Lilianne said impatiently.

“Erland's notes prove that he knew it, too,”
Royce continued. “He used Norbard to feed false information to
several English agents, two of whom are now dead. Erland also
suspected Norbard of reporting directly to King Louis about his own
activities, for Louis does not trust Erland. I already knew as
much, from Norbard, himself.”

“You mean, Norbard is a triple agent?”
Braedon exclaimed. “The man must be dizzy from constantly changing
sides, and from trying to keep all of his lies straight in his own
thoughts!”

“He is probably handsomely paid by King
Louis, as well as by Erland and Royce,” William said.

“I will be greatly surprised if Norbard lives
long enough to retire and enjoy his ill-gotten wealth,” Royce
said.

“He won't live long at all, if I chance to
meet him again,” Lilianne noted with grim intent. “Royce, you’ve
delayed long enough. What did you learn about Gilbert?”

“We know where your brother is being held,”
Royce said with a quiet solemnity that should have warned her.

“Where?” Lilianne asked with a gasp. “Tell
me!”

“You must prepare yourself,” Royce said.

“Prepare for what?”

Magnus saw her face go waxy-white and knew
that Royce's serious mien had penetrated her eager longing for the
truth about Gilbert. Expecting her to erupt into anger and grief at
Royce's next, inevitable words, he rose from the bench where he was
sitting. But before Royce could continue, a man-at-arms came
rushing up the stairs and into the solar in a clatter of boots and
jangle of studded leather and chainmail.

“My lord,” the man-at-arms announced to
Royce, “Sir John, the courier you sent to France, has just
returned. He's in the bailey, and he asks if you'll wait until he
has bathed and is properly dressed, or if you want to see him at
once?”

“Send him here immediately,” Royce
ordered.

“Aye, my lord. I'll tell him.” The
man-at-arms departed.

“Sir John made good time,” Magnus said,
trying to keep his voice uninflected by the cold fear that suddenly
gripped him.

“Far better time than I expected,” Royce
said. “I thought he would be gone for several weeks. Let us hope
his quick return means King Louis has agreed to our offer.”

Magnus met Royce's hard look, understanding
what the older man did not say. They had expected King Louis to
bargain and equivocate and delay the negotiations until he believed
he held the advantage over the English king. Sir John's prompt
return probably meant that Louis had rejected the exchange of
agents in hope of obtaining better terms for the French – or else,
Desmond was dead and there could be no exchange.

“What about Gilbert?” Lilianne cried in
exasperation.

“I ask your patience for just a little
longer,” Royce answered her.

She turned away from the table, toward the
windows. Magnus took a step in her direction, but Royce, with a
stern expression, motioned for him to remain where he was. Torn
between his desire to offer comfort to Lilianne and his sworn duty
to Royce and to his brother, Magnus hesitated for just an instant.
Lilianne won the contest, but during the brief moment when he
wavered Alice reached Lilianne and put an arm around her. Before
Magnus could get to her, too, Royce’s courier rushed up the solar
steps.

“My lord!” Sir John sketched a quick bow in
Royce's direction. His clothes were wrinkled and travel-stained and
his hair was streaked with dust. Dark circles under his eyes spoke
of little rest. “Please excuse my appearance. I rode from Hythe at
top speed.” “After your report is made you will have hot water,
food, and a comfortable bed,” Royce said. He held out a hand,
flicking his fingers. “Where is the letter from King Louis?”

“My lord, there is no letter. The French king
said he'd not waste good parchment. He spoke his message to me, and
I fear you will not like to hear it.”

“Indeed?” Royce went very still. “Tell me
what Louis said. These men with me are all involved, and the
ladies, too, so you need not choose your words with any special
care. Repeat the message exactly as you heard it.”

“Here, Sir John,” Braedon said, offering him
a goblet brimming with wine, “moisten your tongue with this. But be
quick, man. We are all holding our breath in expectation.”

“Thank you, Sir Braedon.”

The courier swallowed a gulp of wine, wiped
the back of his hand across his mouth, and began. Magnus had the
impression that he was trying his best to sound like the French
king, as well as to repeat Louis's words.

“King Louis said, 'Why should I ransom a spy?
Why trade one spy for another, when there are so many clever rats
like Erland easily available to me? As for this Sir Desmond, who is
he? I know nothing of him.'“

“Damn that conniving Frenchman!” Magnus
exclaimed. A sudden shiver coursed through him, though he tried not
to show it. “Of course, Louis knows about Desmond! Erland has most
certainly reported Desmond's capture to him.”

“Easy, Magnus.” Royce held up a cautionary
hand. “I sense an alternate game being played in this affair. Sir
John, did King Louis, or anyone else, say anything to you during
your time at the French court, even a mere word or two that might
give us a hint as to where Desmond is being held?”

“No, my lord,” Sir John replied. “I looked
sharp and I listened closely as you bid me do, but I neither saw
nor heard anything useful. I had the feeling the French were taking
care not to slip and provide information in my presence. Nor was I
allowed to remain for long. I arrived in late afternoon, spent one
night at court, and then saw King Louis in early morning as soon as
he came from Mass. They didn't even let me stay for the midday meal
before six of the king's guards escorted me to Calais as fast as
possible. When I boarded the
Daisy,
Captain Piers couldn't
believe I'd returned so soon. He grumbled a bit at having to leave
some of his crew ashore, but I told him he can always pick up his
men on a later visit, and I promised you'd pay him well for making
a quick trip to Hythe.”

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