Lili had been one of the last to leave the Paris Temple, she and Livia doing a final sweep through some of the corridors and rooms to make sure they’d taken everything of value. They wanted no trace of their operation to remain in Paris. By the time they reached the boats, the real Templars had long since peeled off to return to the temple, and the only Templars left were men from David’s court in Templar guise. To any onlookers, few enough as there would be at that hour, they were anonymous and interchangeable, just like real Templars.
Lili moved around the women to crouch beside the old physician. “How are you?”
“I am more comfortable than in that cell, I can tell you that.”
Lili grinned to see him coming to himself again. She’d been worried about how long it had taken for him to awaken. They were already many hours down the Seine from Paris, and the boats had been making good time. Normally the Seine was slow-going, winding sinuously through the countryside, but with the rain and wind, the current was moving along briskly and the river was full enough to allow vessels such as theirs free passage all the way to the sea, a hundred miles from Paris as the crow flies, though of course twice that on the river itself.
“Have we word from the others?” Aaron asked.
“No.” She smiled gently. “Faith.”
Aaron laughed. “I have it, believe me. We are afraid, but we have come too far to lose our way at the last pass.”
Lili continued to move among the people until she reached the bow, where Bronwen stood, watching the bank. Up ahead was the town of Poissy—and standing on the dock were familiar faces, though not Dafydd’s, unfortunately. Christopher and Ieuan stood beside Darren, who waved the torch he held to catch the attention of the boat’s captain, who’d been told to expect to meet someone at Poissy and had already shortened sail.
The river was so full, it was a matter of maneuvering the boat to the end of the dock, at which point the men leapt over the rail, and they were off again.
Bronwen embraced her husband. “I take it by the fact you’re here that all is well?”
“It is.”
Lili’s shoulders sagged, and she almost collapsed in relief against the side of the boat. Darren had gone immediately to find Rachel, but Christopher hesitated, looking anxious. “Is Isabelle here?”
“She’s in the hold, helping with the sick.”
The relief in Christopher’s face was almost comical, and he set off with a purpose. She supposed she might have let him know that she’d offered Isabelle a place as one of her ladies-in-waiting and that her father had agreed to it before he’d ridden to Vincennes with Dafydd. Given the happiness in Isabelle’s face when she’d heard the news, it was better if she could be the one to tell Christopher.
Lili herself was almost afraid to ask for more information, and her question barely made it out of her dry throat. “And Dafydd?”
Ieuan released Bronwen enough to look at Lili. “They were keeping an eye on Vincennes until Philippe arrived.”
“So the king believed Christopher?”
“So it seems.” And then, before she could ask, Ieuan made a rueful face. “Dafydd sends his love and says the rest of the men will meet us at Rouen or, at worst, Le Havre.” He put out an arm in order to pull Lili into a hug too. “We left nobody dead and few even wounded, beyond the sore head they’ll experience in the morning. Nogaret is captured. Philippe knows nothing of our role in the evacuation of the Jewish community or of Templar involvement in anything we’ve done.”
Lili pulled away slightly so she could look into Ieuan’s face. “Not even Joana’s rescue?”
“The Templars drank the dosed wine along with everyone else. Philippe will arrive at Vincennes and learn that Matthew Norris is one of the few men he can trust—and if he doesn’t come up with it himself, he has John Jr. and Archbishop Romeyn to urge him towards it.”
Lili glanced towards the bank, wishing Dafydd was with them but understanding why he was not.
“He will come,” Ieuan added reassuringly. “You’ll see.”
Bronwen nudged Lili’s elbow with her own. “David can take care of himself.”
“I know he can.”
Lili hadn’t been visited by the Sight in some time, but Bronwen’s words struck a chord in her that she felt resonating throughout her entire body. That’s what I’m afraid of!
Dafydd was the love of her life, the best man she knew. He loved her and the boys and would do anything to protect them. He could take care of himself, yes. But while this entire mission had been predicated on him trusting others to do their jobs, he also believed that sometimes he needed to take care of problems personally.
As their boat sailed through the French countryside with twenty others, proof of all they’d achieved in so short a time, she acknowledged the one loose end everybody else appeared to have forgotten. Somehow, she knew Dafydd was going to try to snip it.
Chapter Forty-four
Day Three
David
As had been the case the night before, David hadn’t slept enough, but the few hours he’d gotten were enough to make him functional. He put together a sandwich of bread, meat, and cheese, wishing for mayonnaise (which was easy to make but just wasn’t on the table), and eyed the men who’d woken with him. As always, they were diligent. It would take some doing to arrange it so he was alone.
“Hey, did Andre go out to the plane?”
“Apparently he’s been living in it,” Michael said, his mouth full of food.
“I’m going to run out and talk to him real quick.” David put up a hand to say bye before any of them could think too hard about what he’d said or ask to come with him. The plane was only two fields away, parked inside one of the abbey’s sheds, which was enclosed on two sides but open front and back. The arrangement made it perfect for their purposes.
David walked straight there, taking a direct route just in case any of his men thought to stand in the doorway and look out for him. He didn’t slow down once he was out of sight of the guest house either, but marched right up to the hangar’s entrance. The plane’s nose faced the road, ready for immediate departure if need be.
“I was wondering when someone would come.” George stepped out from behind a stack of crates, deep in the recesses of the barn. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come out here by yourself.” He laughed.
That David had behaved stupidly should have been a warning right there, but George was used to being the cleverest person in the room, all evidence to the contrary.
“Are you really CIA?” David didn’t move other than to put up his hands. “Or am I dealing with some other organization?”
George had training, so he knew not to get close enough for David to have a chance at taking away his gun. “I’m CIA.”
Finally.
The entire operation hadn’t been about forcing George to reveal himself. But from the very beginning, David’s intention had been to end up right here, where they’d parked the plane. To everyone else, the plane had been left near the abbey as a last safety net in case they needed to get David and his family out of France quickly. That’s why they’d befriended the abbot of the Vincennes monastery and ultimately why David had decided to come here after freeing Joana.
They were safe from Nogaret now. Lili and the boys were sailing down the Seine, surrounded by protectors of every stripe. David’s companions back at the guesthouse would ride to Rouen to join them.
But David would not be going with them.
It couldn’t be helped, not if David was to keep his family and his people safe. Once he’d accepted that fact, the rest had been easy. As always, he would do what needed to be done.
“Let’s go.” George motioned towards the plane with the barrel of the gun.
David walked stiff-legged to the stairway up to the door, which was open. Once inside, he looked to the left to where the pilots sat and let out a sigh to see Andre’s body slumped in the co-pilot’s seat.
George tsked.
“He isn’t dead, just drugged. Drag him into the back.”
David obeyed that order too, compressing himself a bit to maneuver Andre, who was shorter than he but stockier, out of his seat. Then he dragged him down the aisle. Andre was too heavy to lift onto the couch, so David opted to lay him face up on the floor. He looked peaceful, and he was breathing.
George had a set of handcuffs, which he tossed to David. “Cuff yourself to the handle.”
David managed a sigh, even though inside he was punching the air in victory. Darren hadn’t come to Earth Two with handcuffs, but he’d had a key to unlock them on his keyring. That key was currently residing in David’s right hand pocket, so David deliberately sat in a chair on the left side of the aisle to make sure it was his left hand he cuffed. It also put him behind the pilot’s seat.
Once George’s back was turned, David did a quick check around the plane. It looked exactly the same as when he’d last seen it, implying the items David had stashed in the storage compartment under the couch were still there. That would make Chad happy.
Rather than allow George to start wondering what he was thinking, David kept him talking. “You were going to kidnap my son.” He didn’t try to keep the cold fury out of his voice.
There was a little mirror that allowed George to see into the back. He looked into it and said, affecting a British accent, “Sorry, old chap. Needs must and all that.”
“Are you sure you can fly this plane? You served breakfast on the flight that took Anna home.”
George scoffed. “It was worth my while to pretend to be what I wasn’t. The CIA can fabricate any story, you know.”
“You mean you weren’t really with the Chicago police before you joined Chad’s organization?”
“Of course I was.” He started flipping levers and pressing buttons. “You forget that your parents showed up in that clinic in Aberystwyth seven years ago. We’ve had time to plan. My bosses wanted Arthur rather than you, but they’ll settle for you, and I’m pretty sure they’ll realize soon enough you’re the better option. Even my outfit can get antsy about exploiting a kid.”
He went quiet as he started the plane’s engines, checked the gauges, and began taxiing out of the shed towards the high road to Paris. By now, Michael would be getting worried, and even if the plane’s engines were quiet, the noise of them would carry through the morning air. David was on the wrong side of the plane to see if his friends were coming, however, and he couldn’t do anything about it if they were. He, at least, was committed.
George wasn’t about to stop anyway. David had no idea what kind of pilot George was, but he assumed he wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t know how to land. Crashing once they were in Avalon would defeat the purpose of the entire endeavor, since it would bring them right back to Earth Two.
Unless, this once, David’s time had run out and it killed them.
The plane reached the road and turned on to it, heading east, against the wind, and began to pick up speed. It was still early in the morning, but a farmer was in his field, and a dog ran down a lane, leapt a low stone wall, and tried to bite the tires. The plane lifted off the ground.
“I considered flying into the Alps,” George said in a conversational tone, “but then I thought, why bother? This will be more fun.” And he turned the plane until he was headed back towards the city. David leaned into the aisle so he could look through the front windshield of the plane.
“Don’t—” he stopped, deciding not to bother, and fumbled in his pocket for the key to the handcuffs.
It was a matter of a few miles, and they covered it way too quickly, soaring over the outskirts of the city. The engine roared.
“You can’t be serious!” David was having trouble with the cuff.
George laughed, his voice high and near hysterical. “You’re afraid this won’t work?”
“I’m always afraid it won’t work.” David got the cuff free, but rather than throw himself towards the front of the plane and wrestle the controls away from George, he buckled his own seatbelt and shoulder strap.
Plans and opportunities, he told himself, bending forward and saying a prayer for his family and friends sailing down the Seine, for the people below them, and for George, that he wouldn’t lose his nerve at the last second.
David looked up as the nose of the plane tipped down towards the cathedral of Notre Dame. These were the old towers, rising towards the sky in all their medieval glory.
He didn’t dare look away, even though every impulse in his body was howling at him to flinch. A hundred yards ... fifty ... twenty ... they were so close he could see the carvings ... even George was screaming. They were going to destroy Notre Dame in a fiery inferno seven hundred years too soon.
Then everything went black.
One, two, three ...
Epilogue
Day Six
Philippe
Philippe had told the prison’s commander and his own people that he knew the way, which wasn’t strictly true, but as the King of France, he was someone to be respected, obeyed, and never questioned. At long last.
Though he had been to the prison only once before, when he’d gone with his father to watch the execution of a traitor, he was able to follow his nose, foul as the result was, until he was walking along a corridor in the lower level of the prison. All the cells along the row were empty except for the last one, where he found Nogaret, stripped down to breeches and shirt, sitting on the floor against the far wall. He looked up as Philippe arrived, and when he realized who had come to see him, leapt to his feet.
“Sire! Thank the Lord you are here!” It had been only three days since Nogaret had been locked away, so he was still assured in himself enough not to believe what the evidence was telling him.
“Hello, Guillaume. It’s taken me some time to find you.”
Nogaret gripped the bars of his cell. “How did I get here? What happened?”
“King David happened.”
Master Norris had asked to come instead of Philippe, suggesting that Philippe’s presence at the prison would draw attention to Nogaret’s, but Philippe had insisted. If need be, he could either execute Nogaret or move him to the Louvre, which had deeper dungeons and better security. That’s where he should have put David’s personal guardsmen, but, until a few days ago, nobody had ever escaped from this prison. As it was, nobody had yet figured out how David had freed his men from this very same cell.
One point to David.
But only one.
And really, Philippe couldn’t begrudge David that small victory when Philippe had so many of his own.
“I came to make sure you were truly tucked away where you could do no more harm. I also wanted to ask if you had any family I should inform of your demise.”
Nogaret stared at Philippe. “Sire! Surely you don’t intend to leave me here?”
“Surely I do,” Philippe replied.
Few words had ever sounded so sweet.
Nogaret finally seemed to understand his predicament. “I have a seat on the Council!”
“You had a seat on the Council. According to my recent decree, the Council is dissolved. Seeing as how you led them to separate me from my wife and formed your own army to wreak havoc in the countryside around Paris, in order to undermine my rule, you will understand my dissatisfaction with your leadership.”
“Dissatis—” Nogaret broke off, unable to finish the sentence.
In truth, Philippe couldn’t really blame Nogaret for his shock. He’d gone from sitting at his table at Vincennes, crowing over his victory over David, to a prison cell, with no idea of what had changed and how he’d arrived in this condition. Philippe wasn’t entirely sure about all the steps either. What he did know was that three of David’s men, dressed in the livery of royal guards that had been stripped off the unconscious bodies of Nogaret’s own men, had brought Nogaret here. The poetry of it, which had obviously not been lost on David, was what had finally allowed Philippe to find him.
&nbs
p; Really, David should have ordered Nogaret killed and his body thrown in a ditch. But that would have been out of character. His honor really did make him predictable.
“The whole city knows you arranged to murder the Jews you convinced me to evict from the city, along with the Templar guard escorting them. They blame you for the war in Aquitaine, which we lost, by the way.”
“What about Norris? Where is he?”
“Norris was a victim as much as you. He, however, never conspired against me and thus has been returned to favor.”
“I did only as you instructed!”
Philippe leaned in, showing anger for the first time. “You lied about my wife having an affair. You locked her and my children away at Vincennes and held them hostage to control me!”
That, at least, was something Nogaret could not deny. He clenched his hands around the iron bars. “Where’s Flote?”
Philippe gazed around at the walls and ceiling. “He might be in here somewhere. Or he could be in the Louvre. Or dead. I’ll have to inquire among my new advisers when I get a free moment.”
This was actually a lie. Flote was installed again at the palace, on probation, upon pain of death if he ever again conspired against the king. Flote wasn’t dead because he had no scruples and little ambition for political power. He liked money more. His mercenary tendencies made him as useful to Philippe as he’d been to Nogaret.
“And ... and George? Did he come to Vincennes?”
“You’ll be happy to know you appear to have kept your bargain with him. Near first light, David’s plane appeared in the skies over Paris, dove towards Notre Dame, and disappeared.”
Nogaret stared at Philippe. “So ... the stories are true!”
“It appears so.” Now Philippe gave him a real smile. “Adieu, Guillaume.”
Philippe set off down the corridor so quickly he was past the next cell before Nogaret recovered himself enough to call after him. “Wait! You can’t just leave me here!”
Unbroken in Time Page 25