Cast Love Aside (24 page)

Men-at-arms were beginning to gather in the
hall for their midday meal and a few cast curious glances at
Lilianne and her escort, but no one questioned her. She was glad
she didn't have to speak to the men. As she had told Braedon, she
no longer considered the manor to be her home, but it was Gilbert's
inheritance, and he should have been there at the head of his men,
the lord of Sainte Inge greeting his returning sister. Tears almost
blinded her, so she hurried faster, seeking the privacy of her own
room before she lost control of the emotions threatening to
overcome her.

When she reached her bedchamber the familiar
room looked oddly small to her. As Magnus shut the door she thought
of their first meeting and of how he seemed to fill the room,
crowding it with his forceful presence. Then, she had been
determined to find Gilbert and Magnus had done his best to help
her. What had happened to Gilbert wasn’t his fault, or hers,
either, though she would always feel guilty for not knowing her
brother was imprisoned right there, at the manor when she left
it.

“Are you all right?” Magnus asked, laying his
big hand against her cheek.

“Yes. Let's do this as quickly as we can,”
she answered, choking back her tears with firm resolution. Tears
would not help Gilbert. “Suddenly, I don't want to stay here. I
wouldn't want to stay even if we didn't expect Norbard to descend
upon us at any time. There’s nothing in this room that I want to
take away with me. I will see Gilbert decently buried tomorrow
morning and make arrangements with the local priest for Masses to
be said for his soul, and then I'll leave and never return. I swear
to do everything in my power to make Erland pay for killing my
brother,” she finished in a fierce whisper.

“Come along, then.” Magnus opened the door
and stepped into the corridor.

Erland's private room hadn't been disturbed
since he left it. His sword was still on the floor where Magnus had
thrown it down and the documents Magnus hadn't collected on his
first visit remained scattered across the large table that had
served Erland as a desk. More pieces of parchment lay on the
floor.

“Do you mind waiting while I gather these?”
Magnus asked. “Once I have them, we can leave at once if we must.
Aside from the possibility of Norbard's imminent return, I don't
think it will be long before Erland's men start asking questions
that we don't want to answer. I'm beginning to fear I won't have
time for the thorough search I had intended to make.”

“Of course, I don't mind. I'll help you.”
Lilianne bent to retrieve some parchments from the floor. “I
confess I'm not overeager to enter the tower.”

“There, I think we have all the loose
material, unless Erland has documents hidden behind the
tapestries.” Magnus paused to look around.

“The only thing behind the tapestries is the
door that leads to the tower room,” she said. She took a long,
shaky breath. “I’m ready, Magnus. No, not ready, but I am prepared.
I know what we will find.”

“I wish you would stay here and let me go
into the room alone,” Magnus said.

“I must be the one to find Gilbert,” she
insisted. “I couldn't save him, but I owe him this much.”

She drew aside the tapestry that hung over
the door and lifted both keys from their hooks.

“Erland keeps the keys right next to the
door?” Magnus exclaimed in surprise. “I would expect him to be more
cautious.”

“He is cautious. No one but Erland ever
enters this private room,” she reminded him. “When my father was
alive, Gilbert and I were always welcome here. Everything was
different then,” she added wistfully.

She thought her emotions were under her full
control, but when she tried to slide the key into the lock her hand
began to shake so badly that she couldn’t do it. Magnus took the
key from her and turned it quickly. The door swung open on creaky
hinges.

“Are you sure you don't want me to go first?”
Magnus asked.

“No. I know what my duty is.” Clamping her
lips together, she began to climb the steep, curving staircase. She
kept the second key clenched tightly in her hand, resolved that she
must be the person to use it and open the door at the top of the
steps. But when she reached the door she stopped, trembling.

“Lilianne?” Magnus was so close that she
could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck.

“I can do it.” She swallowed hard and
inserted the key. She heard the tumblers click. Steeling herself to
meet horror and the dreadful stench of a decomposing body, she
opened the door.

There was no stench. The shutters over both
windows were wide open, so though the windows were small, it was
possible that the sea breeze had blown away the smell.

Lilianne moved resolutely forward to the
narrow, uncurtained bed. The bedcovers were tumbled and such a tiny
mound lay beneath them, all that was left of a starved,
fourteen-year-old boy. Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes
filmed with tears. Choking back a sob, thinking only of Gilbert and
of how much she loved him, she took another step toward the center
of the room. She would pull down the covers and look upon her dead
brother's face. Afterward, she would hold the sight in her heart,
to recall when next she met Erland.

At an unexpected scuffling sound behind her,
she whirled around.

“Put the pitcher down,” Magnus said to
someone Lilianne couldn't see. “I doubt if you intend to hurt your
sister. You are Lord Gilbert de Sainte Inge, aren't you?”

Magnus moved aside to show Lilianne the
slight figure that had been hidden behind the door. Not yet
comprehending what she beheld, Lilianne took in her brother's
untrimmed brown hair, blue eyes, and familiar, beloved
features.

“When I heard the key in the lock and the
door creaking open, I thought you were Uncle Erland,” Gilbert said
to her. “I was planning to bash him over the head and then escape
and try to find you.”

“Gilbert?” So stunned was she that she could
barely whisper his name. She gaped at him for a long moment, while
her mind fought to adjust to a new reality. “Gilbert!”

“He is obviously alive,” Magnus said, “though
I don't think he's particularly healthy. When did you last eat, my
lord?”

“Yesterday,” Gilbert answered. “The man below
sent me a little bread and cheese. They don't allow him much food,
so he doesn't have much to share with me. Lilianne, where is Uncle
Erland? If he’s absent from the manor, I think we ought to rally
the men-at-arms to our side before he returns. He wants to keep me
here in the tower, so he can have Manoir Sainte Inge for his own.
He told me so.”

“I know,” Lilianne said, still struggling
with joy and disbelief. “He told me, too. He thinks you are dead,
because he hasn't been here to feed you. I believed – I feared –
oh, Gilbert!” She couldn't go on. Silent words of gratitude to
heaven filled her heart. She gathered her brother's pathetically
thin form into her arms. Once she held him close she burst into
tears, drenching his threadbare tunic, running her hands over him
again and again, unable to let him go.

“I'm alive, so why are you crying?” Gilbert
asked with some impatience. He began to struggle to free himself
from his sister’s tight embrace.

“She's happy to see you,” Magnus said, laying
a hand on the boy's bony shoulder. “Lilianne came home prepared to
bury you, and she's rejoicing to find you alive.”

“Who are you?” Gilbert asked. Having achieved
his release from Lilianne's arms, he drew himself up with all the
noble dignity a fourteen-year-old could muster. “Present yourself,
sir.”

“Sir Magnus of Ashendown, at your service, my
lord de Sainte Inge.” Magnus bowed politely.

“Where is Uncle Erland?” Gilbert asked.

“Count Erland is presently confined in
England,” Magnus answered.

“You mean, the English captured him and put
an end to his spying?” Gilbert exclaimed. “I am glad.”

“Magnus captured him,” Lilianne said.

“Did you? Really?” Gilbert regarded Magnus
with unconcealed admiration.

“However, Erland's men don't know he has been
captured and we don't want them to learn about it,” Magnus said.
“The men-at-arms all believe that you were taken elsewhere for your
health. We know from Erland himself how you were secretly returned
to the manor. You may tell us the rest of your story later, when we
have more time. At the moment, what we need to do is get you out of
this room before anyone begins to ask questions of us.”

“We can take him to my room for now,”
Lilianne said. “He can stay there until we are ready to leave
Manoir Sainte Inge.”

“I refuse to abandon my estate, or my
people,” Gilbert said, “unless, Sir Magnus, you will undertake to
escort my sister and me to King Louis, to seek his protection from
our uncle.”

“I intend to take you to England,” Magnus
said.

“Am I an English hostage, then?” Gilbert
demanded. “I warn you, I will not go quietly, and I’ll not allow
you to harm my sister.”

He threw back his shoulders and drew himself
up in a way that tugged at Lilianne's heart. She had thought she'd
lost him, and now that she found him alive she was ready to weep
anew at his youthful courage.

“Magnus is trying to help us,” she told
him.

“By handing us over to the English for
ransom? By forcing me to leave my lands? I won't do it. If Uncle
Erland has been captured, then I can rule Manoir Sainte Inge
without his interference.”

“If you try, you won't live long,” Magnus
said quietly. “Be sensible, Gilbert. You don’t know what has
happened while you were confined to this room. Your best hope of
retaining your title lies in leaving Manoir Sainte Inge now, and
returning later at the head of an army.”

“Just how long do you expect that to take?”
Gilbert demanded. “Will a French army escort me home, or a
conquering English army?”

“If I were you, my lord,” said Magnus, “I'd
not expect French help. I have a feeling that King Louis was very
annoyed to learn where Erland is. You’d be well advised to depend
on King Henry now.”

“He’s right,” Lilianne added. “Please, just
do as we ask until we get you to safety. When we aren’t so pressed
for time, I promise we will explain everything.”

“I cannot leave my home. Defending it is my
responsibility.” Gilbert stuck out his lower lip.

“I can see that stubbornness is a Sainte Inge
family trait,” Magnus observed dryly. “My lord, I ask you to trust
your sister, if you cannot yet trust me. You must be eager to leave
this room.”

Without waiting for a response from Gilbert
he continued, “Here's the plan: I'll lock both doors behind us as
we go, so if anyone looks in here, nothing will seem out of order.
Have you any thoughts on how else to disguise your absence?”

“You ought to make the pillows look like a
body and pull up the coverlet,” Gilbert suggested somewhat
reluctantly. “I didn't have time to do it properly before Lilianne
came in.”

“That's a good idea,” Magnus said, smiling at
the boy. “Anyone who glances in will think you are asleep.”

“Or dead,” Gilbert said.

Lilianne thought she was going to weep again.
She looked away from Gilbert and, thus, she noticed the shredded
sheet before Magnus did. It was tied around a chest that stood
under one of the windows, with the loose end dangling over the
sill.

“Gilbert, what is this?” she asked. “I hope
you weren't planning to escape out the window.”

“Of course not. The window is too small for
me to climb though. That's the way I got food,” he explained. “I
threw the sheet out the window and the man below tied a packet of
food to the end of it, then I pulled it up.”

“Ingenious,” Magnus said, examining the
arrangement. “I’m surprised that any of Erland's men-at-arms has
the decency to help a captive.”

“It wasn't a man-at-arms,” Gilbert said.

“Magnus?” came Braedon's voice from the
stairs. “Are you up there?”

“We're coming down.” Magnus went through the
door.

Lilianne paused to look around the room one
last time. She could see nothing she recognized as Gilbert's, and
she guessed that Erland had permitted the boy none of his personal
belongings except for his clothes. She shook her head at the
unnecessary cruelty, then looked again at the strip of white fabric
that lay across the windowsill. From what Gilbert had said, the
cloth was his lifeline, but its location wasn't right; it shouldn't
be where it was. A different image of a thin white strip extending
from the same window flashed into her mind. She had seen it from
the rowboat that took her away from the manor.

“Both windows in this room look out on a
sheer drop to the rocks and the ocean,” she said. “How could a
man-at-arms send food up here from the rocks?”

“You don't understand,” Gilbert said.

“Lilianne, Gilbert, hurry!” Magnus called.
“We have a problem. Don't dawdle.”

“Come on, my dear.” Lilianne put an arm
around Gilbert's thin waist to urge him toward the door. He held
back for a moment and she feared he'd refuse to go with her out of
sheer, childish stubbornness. But then he relented and allowed her
to guide him to the stairway and thence to Erland's chamber, where
Magnus awaited them.

“Stay here,” Magnus warned. “I want to make
sure no one is on the upper level between this room and yours.” He
disappeared out the door.

“What's wrong? What’s happening?” Gilbert
demanded.

“I don't know, dear,” Lilianne said. “Just
depend on Magnus to do what's best for us.”

“I don't even know this Sir Magnus!” Gilbert
exclaimed irritably. “Why should I obey him?”

“Because I
do
know him,” Lilianne
responded, “and I trust him completely.”

Just then Braedon appeared in the door to
Erland's room. Upon seeing Gilbert, he made a deep bow.