by Speer, Flora
“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.”
“And so I will.” Royce laid a hand on his courier's shoulder. “You have done as well as any man could, and
I thank you for your speedy return. Go below to the hall and find the food you surely need, then get some rest.”
With a bow, Sir John left them.
“How can we hope to free Desmond if we can't discover where he’s being held and if King Louis claims he knows nothing about him?” Magnus asked. “Did Louis tell Sir John the truth, or did he lie? How can we find out the truth? What in the name of heaven do we do now?”
“Now, we ask the man who bought Desmond from the Scotts who captured him,” Royce answered. “We ask Erland.”
Chapter 9
“Erland bought Desmond?” Magnus stared at Royce, dumbfounded by what he had just heard. “Did you learn that last night while you were decoding Erland's notes? And you’ve neglected to say so until now?”
“I've known it all along,” Royce said. “The information was in a message Norbard sent to me months ago.”
“Why didn't you tell me when you recruited me for this cursed mission?” Magnus demanded.
“We were afraid you'd be so angry that you'd kill Erland rather than bothering to bring him to England,” Royce said with infuriating coolness.
“Your lies are truly fascinating. But then, lies are to be expected of a secret agent, aren't they? You work by lies and concealment, and by sending men into danger ignorant of what they ought to know.” Magnus took a menacing step toward the man he had, until just a few moments ago, begun to think of as a friend. Despite his best effort he couldn’t hide his disappointment in Royce. “On that first day at Windsor, you said you were recruiting me because I have sense enough to use my wits and not resort to force. Be warned, my lord; that is not always true of me.”
“We decided that we didn't just want to exchange Erland for Desmond,” Royce said, still cool and smiling a little at Magnus's vehemence. “We wanted all the details of Erland's spying operation. He couldn't tell us anything if he was dead, or too badly injured to talk.”
“'We?'“ Magnus repeated, speaking through clenched teeth. “Meaning you and William and Braedon? Did they know how Erland bought Desmond – bought a knight as though he was a horse or a cloak – while all of you kept the information from me?”
“By 'we,' I mean King Henry and myself,” Royce said. “We agreed not to inform your comrades, either, out of concern that one of them would accidentally let the truth slip at an emotional moment.”
“On the surface,” Braedon said, “that decision does make sense. Still, Royce, I think you should have told Magnus. We are talking about his brother, after all.”
“Wait a moment!” Lilianne cried. Leaving her position by the windows, where she had been listening in silence, she moved toward Royce like a lion stalking its prey. With her eyes flashing violet fire, she rounded the long trestle table. “There is one minor detail that may not seem important to you, my lord, though it is of vital importance to me. You know where my brother is. You know from reading Erland's notes exactly what he has done with Gilbert. Tell me now, this very instant, or by heaven, I'll – I'll – oh, how I despise you!” Raising her fisted hands, she launched herself at Royce.
“Lilianne, stop!” Magnus caught her shoulders to prevent her from scratching Royce's face, which appeared to be her aim. “I will tell you as much as I know. But after Sir John's report, Royce and I need to speak with Erland.”
“You will not see him without me!” she declared. “Last night you promised I could be with you the next time you interrogate him. Besides, I no longer trust either of you to repeat honestly whatever Erland says to you.”
“I cannot blame you,” Magnus said, hoping his apparent composure would quiet her. In fact, he was no more calm than Lilianne was. If not for her presence, he'd have challenged Royce to combat over the lies the man had told and the facts he had deliberately not revealed. For Lilianne's sake, for her brother, and for Desmond's sake, too, Magnus bit back the furious words he longed to hurl at Royce and spoke, instead, with a reasonableness he did not feel. “Lilianne is right; we did promise. She must go with us to Erland's rooms.”
“Very well.”
Royce agreed quietly to Magnus's demand, though Magnus noted a spark of anger, or perhaps of excitement, in his eyes. Magnus began to suspect Royce of enjoying the clash of temperaments taking place in the solar. It occurred to him that Royce was likely glad of Lilianne's outburst, for she had deflected Magnus's rage. What Royce could not have understood was how Lilianne's distress had made Magnus more resolute, more determined to have full and honest answers to her questions, and to his own.
“William,” Braedon said suddenly, as if he'd only just remembered, “weren't you planning to take Lady Alice for a ride? And wasn't I supposed to go along as chaperone?”
“Perhaps I ought to stay here,” Alice began, looking doubtfully at Lilianne.
“William,” Lilianne said, “take her away from here for an hour or two.”
“I will, gladly.” William smiled at Alice. His smile broadened when Lilianne caught Alice's hand and placed it in his.
“Magnus can fill you in later on whatever occurs with Erland,” Royce said to Braedon as he began to follow the other two down the steps.
“Now, my lord,” Magnus said when only he and Lilianne remained in the solar with Royce, “what else do you know about Desmond's captivity that you haven't seen fit to reveal to the rest of us?”
“The king of the Scots sent two of his best agents to France to rescue Desmond,” Royce answered. “They were both murdered by Norbard, at Erland's command.”
“You knew this, and still you relied on Norbard for information?” Lilianne cried.
“Norbard was already in place, working for Erland, and he did have his uses,” Royce told her.
“You are disgusting!” she cried. “Your deceit and your coldness in the face of murder are appalling.”
“You are not the only person to think so,” Royce responded, apparently unmoved by her passion. Dismissing Lilianne with a shrug of his shoulders, he turned to Magnus. “Use your wits, man; they truly are the reason why I recruited you for this mission. Put together what I’ve told you so far, with the information gleaned from Erland's parchments, and what Sir John has just reported. What does all of this suggest to you?”
Magnus frowned, aware of Lilianne staring from Royce to him as if she could not fathom why any man would engage in the devious activities required by spying, or how two men who appeared to dislike each other could work in concert toward a common end.
As for what Royce had said, Magnus required only an instant to make the necessary connections. If he weren't so distracted by Lilianne's presence, he'd have reached the obvious conclusion much sooner.
“Since Erland bought Desmond, he must know where Desmond is being held,” Magnus said. “I'll wager Norbard knows, too. If I could find him, I'd make him speak. But we do have Erland, conveniently sitting in the west tower.”
“Precisely,” Royce said.
“You are using all of us,” Lilianne accused Royce. “Just as you have used Norbard in spite of knowing he's a murderer, just as you'd use Erland if he weren't too clever for you, so you are manipulating Magnus and me – and Alice and William and Braedon, too. You are moving all of us around on an invisible chessboard, as if we don't matter, as if we aren't human beings with souls and hearts. You are even using Magnus's brother, and mine, as pawns. But, to what end?”
“I obey King Henry's wishes,” Royce said.
“That's a paltry excuse! From what I've seen of you, Lord Royce, you follow your own wishes.”
“Never fault my loyalty to my king.” Royce's voice and the look in his eyes were so daunting that Lilianne fell silent.
“I suggest we visit Erland now,” Magnus said to Royce, “and that you allow Lilianne and me to question him, instead of doing it all yourself. Perhaps Erland's niece will get more out of him than you have. Lilianne seems to have the knack of irritating him. When men are angry they sometimes speak truths they'd never utter while in a calmer mood.”
“Inde
ed, they do,” Lilianne said in a voice drenched in sarcasm. “Though, if I am to drive Erland into forgetting his natural caution, I will require your assistance, Magnus. You are quite capable of reducing even God's own angels to a state of incipient violence.”
She was glorious in her passionate devotion to her brother and to the honesty that lay at the very heart of her being. For one moment of blinding desire Magnus contemplated grabbing her and slinging her over his shoulder, then carrying her off to her bedchamber, there to plunder the beautiful mouth she was twisting in derision. His longing for her was so nearly uncontrollable that he was forced to exert all of his considerable strength of will just to remain where he was, several paces away from her. He folded his arms across his chest to prevent his hands from reaching out to her of their own accord.
Lilianne's eyes blazed into his, challenging him with violet fire. Rather than let her know how aroused he was, Magnus responded by smiling at her as if he was amused by her fierceness.
“Do you want to see Erland at once?” Royce asked them with quiet amusement. “Or would you rather quarrel first?”
“Lead the way,” Lilianne commanded.
Magnus almost laughed out loud. Few people dared issue orders to Royce of Wortham, but Lilianne did it with a casual distain that lifted his spirits in spite of his worry for her sake, and for his brother's. Warning himself to restrain the desire that would interfere with his ability to think clearly, he followed Lilianne and Royce down the steps and across the great hall to the inner bailey.
* * * * *
Erland was housed in a small suite of rooms that were used for noble prisoners who required secure lodging. The few windows were mere arrow slits through which no one could possibly escape. The inner room, a bedchamber, was just large enough for a narrow bed and a stool. The main room contained a pair of wooden chairs, a table for eating, and a charcoal brazier for heat. Two of Royce's most trustworthy guards stood outside the door.