Cast Love Aside (29 page)

“Who would ever guess that Magnus is the
younger twin?” Desmond remarked to the others in the cell. “How
authoritative he is, how certain of his own rectitude.”

“You have been warned,” Magnus said.

Then William spoke and the tension between
the brothers eased – but only until they comprehended what William
was saying.

“You two have just wasted the few moments
when we could have escaped,” William told them. “Now, we are going
to have to fight. Whoever is coming down the stairs is nearly upon
us, and it sounds like more than one person.”

“Good,” Desmond said. “Is there an extra
sword available? I have a score to settle with my guards.”

“You will do as I say,” Magnus stated coldly.
Pulling off his cloak, he laid it over Desmond's shoulders before
turning his back on his brother to speak to Gilbert. “My lord, I am
depending on you to escort your sister and Sir Desmond down to the
tunnel and then to the beach. No matter what you hear behind you,
don't stop. Lilianne knows where we are to meet Captain Piers. If
we don't catch up with you, follow her instructions.”

“Magnus.” Lilianne stretched out a hand
toward him. He left the cell before she could touch him, but the
look in his eyes told her that she, not Gilbert, was the person he
was depending on to see his brother safely out of the manor.

“Come on.” Gilbert caught Desmond by the arm.
“We have to go now. You heard what Magnus said. He'll be protecting
our backs.”

“Oh, yes.” Desmond let loose a bitter laugh.
“Magnus always does what's right.”

“Whatever your problems with your brother
are, settle them later,” Lilianne snapped, trying to keep her
irritation under control. “If you have any regard for Gilbert, who
insisted we must stop to rescue you when we could have gone on to
escape with little difficulty, then do as Magnus bids. Down the
stairs with you, Desmond, and no more arguments, please.”

“I do admire a fiercely passionate woman,”
Desmond said.

When Lilianne scowled at him, he shrugged and
went through the door after Gilbert.

By the time they were halfway down the
curving staircase, Lilianne knew that Desmond was more seriously
injured than she had realized. The same right arm he was using to
clutch Magnus's cloak tightly about his half-starved body also
supported his ribs. He moved slowly, breathing with some
difficulty. Once, he stopped to lean against the central newel
post.

“The tunnel isn't far,” Lilianne told him.
“If you can make it to the bottom of the stairs, there will be room
for Gilbert and me to walk beside you and help you.”

“I don't really need help,” Desmond
responded. “I'm just pretending, so I'll have an excuse to put my
arm around you. Will Magnus be angry if I touch you?”

“If you don't move
now,”
she said,
“I'll kick you off the steps.”

“No, you won't,” he said. “Not until Magnus
orders it.” But he did drag himself away from his stone support to
follow Gilbert.

Behind them rose the noise of a serious
dispute, of loud exclamations, followed by the sound of sword
striking sword. A large chunk of bread and a pitcher full of liquid
sailed past Lilianne's head. Desmond's one meal of the day landed
on the stone floor below, liquid spilling along the way and the
pitcher shattering into pieces.

“Considering the quality of the food they've
been serving me,” Desmond remarked, “that does seem an appropriate
ending for it.”

A screech from above heralded the arrival of
a man-at-arms who stumbled down the steps. As Lilianne shrank back
against the wall, the man careened off the staircase to hit the
floor.

“My arm!” The man-at-arms sat up, moaning and
clutching his wrist.

“Is it broken?” Gilbert asked. He had reached
the base of the stairs, from where he watched the man-at-arms with
no trace of sympathy on his young face.

“If it is broken, you won't need this,”
Desmond said, grabbing the sword the man-at-arms had dropped.
Keeping his right arm firmly wrapped around his ribs, he hefted the
weapon, testing its weight and balance. “How fortunate that I am
left-handed.

“Ah, Magnus, there you are at last,” Desmond
said, glancing up the stairs. “I cannot help noticing that you are
much slower at this kind of work than I am. Since you claim to be
our leader, what do you suggest we do with this wretched
fellow?”

“We'll put him in your old cell, along with
his friend,” Magnus answered. Catching the man-at-arms by the back
of his tunic, Magnus marched him up the stairs. Lilianne heard a
door slamming and a bolt being drawn shut.

“Someone will find them eventually,” Magnus
said, coming down the stairs again in company with Braedon and
William. “The second man has only a minor wound. Lilianne, what's
that you have?”

“Desmond's bread.” She held up the half loaf
she had retrieved from the floor. “It's not too badly damaged to be
edible, and we are going to need food, are we not? Who has the
saddlebags?”

“I have.” Braedon took the bread and stuffed
it into one of the bags he carried slung over his shoulder.

“Resourceful wench, isn't she?” Desmond said
to Magnus.

“You will speak more respectfully of Lady
Lilianne,” Magnus instructed.

“Ever the pure-minded, chivalrous knight,”
Desmond scoffed.

“It's past time for us to leave,” Magnus said
to his friends. “Gilbert, lead the way out of here.”

The last tunnel was a short one. It opened
onto the beach near the water, at a place where the cliff curved
just enough to hide anyone leaving by the secret opening. The
earlier rain had ended and the clouds were breaking up. Sunlight
sparkled on the water. As Lilianne emerged from the tunnel she
squinted to see against the sudden, dazzling brightness.

“If we can get across the beach and into the
sand dunes without being caught,” she said, “we can hide among the
dune grasses and the bushes. When it's too dark for the sentries
patrolling the manor wall to see clearly we can run across the road
and head into the trees. We ought to be safe there.”

“You hope,” Desmond said. “At this time of
year, it never really gets dark.”

“Can you think of a better plan?” Magnus
asked. He was peering around the rocks, surveying the stretch of
sand. “We have a choice of running straight across the open beach
leaving our footprints behind us, or of skirting the cliff until we
are higher on the beach, nearer to the dunes, so we'll have a
shorter run with better chance of concealment.”

“I believe I prefer the cliff route,” Braedon
said, “though it will take us uncomfortably close to the manor
wall.”

“You're all mad!” Desmond announced as if he
had just made an amazing discovery. “It's a wonder you haven't been
killed before now. Magnus, your arrangements are unbelievably
sloppy. Don't you have someone waiting with a boat?”

“We are a day and a half early for our
rendezvous,” Lilianne said.

“That shows poor planning on Magnus's
part.”

“In fact,” Lilianne retorted, holding on to
her temper with some difficulty, “we arrived at the manor expecting
to find Gilbert dead. We planned to stay an extra day to allow time
for his funeral. Thanks to your help, my brother didn't starve and
our carefully laid plans have changed. I will always be grateful to
you for sharing your food with Gilbert,” she finished, hoping a few
kind words would silence Desmond's irritating comments.

“You should have considered every possibility
before you began your visit to Manoir Sainte Inge,” Desmond
insisted. “Spying missions succeed by thorough planning.”

“Is that how you were captured?” Magnus
demanded. “By careful planning?”

“I was betrayed,” Desmond said. “Are we going
to stand here all afternoon, or are we going to head for the dunes
and what little shelter they offer?”

It was by now so late in the day that the sun
was beginning its leisurely midsummer descent toward the horizon.
On the other side of the promontory, the beach where Norbard and
his men-at-arms were presumably still searching would be in full
daylight, but Lilianne and her companions were able to keep to the
lengthening shadows cast by the cliffs on their side.

At the highest level of the beach, a little
below the spot where the promontory began its thrust into the sea,
a few rocks jutted out of the sand, rearing above the long grasses
and the scrubby bushes that grew on the last ridge of dunes.

“Magnus, if you think we're going to find
adequate shelter there,” Desmond said, gazing at the dunes, “you
are greatly mistaken. The men-at-arms will know just where to look,
because there’s no other place to hide.”

“I don't plan to stay there long enough for
them to find us,” Magnus said. “Lilianne, are you ready?”

“Yes.” She finished kilting her skirt up to
her knees, pulling her belt tight to hold the woolen folds in place
so she could run if necessary. In defiance of Desmond's carping
criticism she gave Magnus a bright smile. “Just tell Gilbert and me
what you want us to do.”

“Stay close to me,” he said. With a frown he
added, “You too, Desmond. Don't go off on your own. Leave the
rearguard to Braedon and William.”

“Be assured, Sir Desmond, that I will do my
best to conceal our tracks,” Braedon said. He tugged a small bush
from a crack in the rocks. “I'll use this as a broom, to smooth the
sand as we go.”

“Any man-at-arms who's worth his bread will
notice what you've done,” Desmond objected.

“Have you a better idea?” Magnus asked. “For
once, Desmond, stop arguing and do as you're told.”

“Of course, my lord. Whatever you say, my
lord,” Desmond muttered.

Lilianne's hand itched to slap him. Reminding
herself again that Desmond had almost certainly saved her brother's
life, she held her tongue.

“Come on,” Magnus said, gesturing to her to
join him.

Moving from rock to bush to high sand dune,
they scurried across the upper portion of the beach until they were
all huddled together next to the last large dune before the
road.

“What do you suggest we do next, my lord?”
Desmond snarled at his brother. “Here we lie, in a situation
fraught with fatal dangers, and I have no boots. Tell me, Magnus,
have you any clever orders for us now?”

“Keep your head down,” Magnus said. “One of
the sentries on the manor wall is staring in our direction. We'll
have to wait until he moves away.”

They were fairly well concealed by the sand
dune and the tall grasses growing on it, but there was no shelter
from the brilliant sun, and no relief from the late afternoon heat.
Gilbert leaned against Lilianne, looking ill.

“I'm thirsty,” he whispered to her as if he
didn't want anyone else to hear him, “and I’m so tired.”

“Just a little while longer and we'll be in
the forest, where it's shady,” she promised. “I'm sure we can find
a stream for you to drink from.”

“Magnus,” Braedon said, a note of warning in
his voice, “I don't think we ought to wait any longer. Someone just
stepped around the rocks at the exit we used, and took a long look
at the beach. He's back inside now, but if he finds the men we
locked into Desmond's cell, Norbard will soon know how we
left.”

“It's time to cross the road,” Magnus said
calmly, indicating the rutted path that led past the manor in the
direction of Boulogne.

“Good luck to you,” Desmond murmured,
sounding as if he didn't believe they'd make it to the other
side.

“Stay close to me again,” Magnus instructed
Lilianne. “You, too, Gilbert. We'll run from here to that tall bush
you can see on the other side of the road. From there, we'll keep
going, using whatever cover we can find, until we reach the
forest.”

“Not if Norbard has archers posted on the
manor walls,” Desmond said. “We'll die before we ever get to the
trees.”

He spoke of the prospect with such relish
that Lilianne gaped at him in shock, wondering if Desmond wanted to
be killed, just to prove Magnus was wrong in his plans.

“We are gambling that Norbard is still
devoting his full attention to the beach and to the tunnels under
the manor,” Magnus said. In a mocking tone he added, “Did you lose
your courage in that cell, brother?”

“Neither my courage, nor my good sense,”
Desmond answered. “I did lose my boots, in case you haven't
noticed.”

“You never possessed any good sense,” Magnus
told him. “Which is why you are where you are at this moment.”

With that, Magnus was off, running across the
road to the bush he had pointed out to Lilianne. She followed him
and was greatly relieved to find Gilbert keeping pace with her. She
wished they could stop long enough for Gilbert to have the drink he
wanted and eat something, but she knew they'd have to wait until
they found a safer place. Obeying Magnus's quiet commands they
steadily made their way toward the forest.

“Well, that was a miraculous escape,” Desmond
said when they paused in the shelter of the first trees. “No thanks
to Magnus, who took a great risk with all of our lives. How long
are we to hide in the forest?”

“We need to find a stream as soon as
possible,” Magnus said, ignoring Desmond's remarks. “When Norbard
doesn't find us and realizes we’ve left the manor, he will very
likely send dogs after us.”

“I know a place,” Gilbert exclaimed, sounding
as if he was playing a boyish game. “There's a stream just a short
distance from here. I've been thinking about it because I’m so
thirsty. We can wade through the water and throw the dogs off our
scent. If we head upstream for a mile or so, we'll come to an
island that has lots of trees and bushes. We can hide there until
it's time to meet your friend with the ship.”

“Norbard will know about so obvious a spot,”
Desmond objected. “Once he decides to use dogs to track us, an
island like that will be the first place he'll look.”