Lady of Lyonsbridge

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Lady of Lyonsbridge Page 18

by Ana Seymour


  By the time the two men reached Alyce, she’d helped the guard ready her horse and was asking him to give her a boost up into the saddle.

  “What do you think you’re doing, milady?” Ranulf asked, his voice resigned.

  “I’m going to pay a visit on Philip of Dunstan,” she said. “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t mistreat any more of my people.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Between the two of them, Ranulf and Fantierre had managed to convince her that riding straight into Sherborne Castle without any forethought would be of little help to Fredrick. Most likely Dunstan would seize Alyce as a hostage as well, and still hang her young servant.

  “Then help me figure out some kind of plan to help him,” she begged the two men.

  “Let’s at least wait until Kenton comes back,” Ranulf urged.

  “I need to get back to the castle myself,” Fantierre reminded him. “If you want my help with a plan, we need to figure it out now.”

  Though she hadn’t confessed it to anyone, Alyce had been formulating an idea for the past two days. “When your brother’s men first came to Sherborne,” she told Ranulf, “I poisoned them.”

  “You what?” he asked, astonished.

  “Well, I sickened them. I thought they’d come from Dunstan, so I had my cooks feed them meat that had gone bad.”

  Fantierre laughed. “Ma chère, it’s no wonder Thomas fell in love with you.”

  Ranulf looked at them both as if they’d taken leave of their senses. “You might have killed someone,” he said to Alyce.

  She gave a contrite nod. “But I didn’t. They are all hale and well, as you can see.” She gestured toward the camp, where the men milled about or lay on their bedrolls, bored, waiting for some action.

  “What does this have to do with our present situation?” Ranulf asked. “Don’t tell me you want to feed bad meat to Dunstan’s men.”

  Alyce shook her head. “Not meat, no.” She paused and looked from one man to the other, her eyes sparking with excitement. “I want to drug them.”

  Fantierre grew serious. “I hate to say this, chèrie, but you’re not going to find Dunstan as easy to trick as Thomas was. The baron is on his guard, and if anything should go wrong…” He gave his customary shrug and ran his finger across his neck to simulate the slitting of a throat.

  “Would he dare do such a thing when she’s under the protection of the king?” Ranulf asked.

  Fantierre nodded. “Let me put it this way. The beautiful lady Alyce would disappear, never to be seen again. And no one would be able to hold Dunstan accountable for the crime.”

  “I think we’d better wait for Thomas,” Ranulf said fervently.

  Fantierre made a move to get on his horse. “Oui, it’s best. I need to get back.”

  “No, wait,” Alyce begged, putting her hand on the Frenchman’s sleeve. “I’m not being reckless. I’ve thought this out and it could work.”

  Fantierre gave her an admiring smile. “Most definitely I see why my friend Thomas is in love with you, ma belle.”

  She paid little heed to the compliment. “There’s a woman in Sherborne village—old Maeve, they call her.”

  “Ah oui, I’ve heard them speak of her. She’s a witch, they say.”

  “I don’t know if she’s witch or not, but she knows herbs, and she has powerful medicines that can make men sleep for hours.” Alyce stopped to see if Ranulf and Fantierre seemed to be following her words. She had the feeling that if she’d been trying to explain her plan to Thomas and Kenton, by now they’d have stopped listening and walked away. But both Ranulf and Fantierre were still paying attention.

  “And you think you can feed this medicine to Dunstan’s soldiers?” Fantierre asked.

  She nodded. “And when they’re sleeping, Richard’s forces can come in and take over without anyone getting hurt.”

  Fantierre shook his head in amazement. “A woman’s view of warfare,” he said. He sounded guardedly excited. “But it’s so crazy that it just might have some possibilities.”

  Ranulf looked doubtful. “How would you get the drug to Dunstan’s men?”

  “Maeve will tell me. Most likely in the ale. No one can go long without a drink. We’ll put it in just before the evening meal. By midnight the entire castle will be sleeping like babes.”

  “Would we get the drug to Fantierre and let him doctor the ale?” Ranulf asked.

  Alyce shook her head. “No. We’d need the cooperation of my people. I’ll have to go to the castle myself.”

  “I can’t let you do that, milady,” Ranulf said at once. “Thomas would tear my head off.”

  Alyce brushed past him and started to mount her horse. “Then tell him I left you no choice, Ranulf.”

  The young knight looked miserable. “I beg you, Lady Alyce, wait until we hear something from Thomas.”

  She shook her head. “By then Fredrick could be dead. Don’t worry, Ranulf. I’ll explain things to Thomas after the deed is done.”

  “I doubt he’ll wait for an explanation before he throttles me,” he said glumly.

  Alyce smiled down at him from her horse. “Tell him I drugged you as well,” she suggested.

  Fantierre had made up his mind. Quickly he pulled himself into the saddle. “I’ll ride back with you,” he said. “I’ll tell them I found you wandering about and took you prisoner. We’ll try to keep you away from Dunstan until your people have time to use the herbs at tonight’s meal.”

  “Thank you, Fantierre. We’ll stop at old Maeve’s on the way to the castle.” Alyce turned to Ranulf. “Kenton should be back soon. Can you and he get the men together to come into the castle tonight?”

  “What if the herbs don’t work?”

  Alyce’s face was set. “They’ve got to work. Come an hour after midnight. I’ll open the front gates.”

  Obviously unhappy, Ranulf nodded, then stepped back as the two riders spurred their horses and rode off.

  Fortunately, it appeared to be a “good” day. Old Maeve’s dark eyes were bright with intelligence, and she wasted little time mixing a pouch of medicine from the contents of the vials and odd little boxes that filled the shelves in her tiny cottage.

  “They will sleep, no doubt of it,” Maeve said firmly. “Even the biggest and strongest knight will sleep like a babe.”

  “And just one mug of ale is enough?” Alyce asked.

  “Half a mug is enough,” Maeve assured her.

  Alyce looked at Fantierre, who nodded approval. “You’ll have to warn your own people to go thirsty this night,” he said.

  “Aye.” She looked at Maeve. “Can this hurt anyone, Maeve?”

  The old woman nodded and carefully lowered herself into a chair next to her small fireplace. “Too much can kill a man.”

  “Kill him?”

  “Aye. It’s a powerful drug.”

  Once again, Alyce turned to Fantierre, who shrugged. “Do we have any other choice?” he asked.

  Alyce shook her head. “I don’t want to harm anyone. I just want my castle back and my people safe.”

  “Two will die,” Maeve said. Her voice had suddenly lowered, and Alyce recognized the look that came into the old woman’s eyes when she was having one of her visions. Her words made Alyce freeze.

  “Two will die?” she asked. “Two of Dunstan’s soldiers?”

  Old Maeve’s eyes closed and she began to rock. “Two will die before the setting of the blood moon,” she said.

  Alyce looked helplessly at Fantierre. “She appears to have gone out of her head,” he said.

  “It happens when her visions come on her,” Alyce explained. “What do you think we should do?”

  “Personally, I don’t think it would be a great tragedy to lose one or two of Dunstan’s men,” Fantierre said. “And if we kill off Dunstan himself, we will be doing the world a favor.”

  Alyce was not satisfied. She knelt in front of the old woman and grasped both her hands. “We don’t want to kill anyone, Maeve. Te
ll us how we can use the medicine safely.”

  But Maeve didn’t appear to hear. A tiny stream of spittle made its way out of the corner of her mouth as she rocked back and forth, and once again she began mumbling in her own strange language.

  Alyce stood. “There’s nothing we can do for her now. She has to work through these spells naturally.”

  Fantierre picked up the pouch of powder and hefted it in his hand. “So we go ahead with the plan?”

  “I don’t like it,” Alyce said, “but as you say, what other choice do we have?”

  “The die is cast, milady,” Fantierre said. “Now we play out the rest of the game.” He looked at old Maeve. “Do we leave her like this?”

  “Aye. There’s nothing more we can do for her.”

  With the old woman still muttering her odd words, they made their way out of the cottage and remounted their horses. Alyce was subdued on the ride to the castle. The threat to Fredrick had spurred her to action, but now she was wondering if she should have waited for Thomas to return. If Maeve’s words were true, she might have two deaths on her conscience after tonight.

  “We must try to be sure that no one drinks too much of the drugged ale,” she told Fantierre.

  “You’re worried about the old woman’s prediction.”

  She nodded. “I don’t want anyone to die.”

  Fantierre gave a fleeting smile. “Ah, that is the Saxon heritage in you, ma belle. We French are not so ponderous about death. One lives and one dies. It matters little. It’s but the start of the next adventure.”

  Alyce shivered. “It’s an adventure that can wait, as far as I’m concerned. In fact,” she added ruefully, “after tonight, I’ll have had enough of adventure for a very long time.”

  If Ranulf had not been Thomas’s brother, Kenton might have given him a swift punch in the jaw. As it was, all he could do was rail at the slender younger man.

  “Would you have had me tie her to a tree to prevent her leaving?” Ranulf asked.

  “Exactly!” Kenton roared. “I’d never have left her in your care if I’d thought you’d be stupid enough to let her ride away. To Sherborne, no less.” He gave a growl of agony. “Thomas will have us all cleaning stables for the rest of our lives, and that’s if we get her back safely. If we don’t, we might as well just fall on our swords and have an end to it.”

  “The plan has some merit,” Ranulf argued. “Fantierre seemed to think it could work.”

  “He’s French, Ranulf,” Kenton said in exasperation, as if that explained everything.

  “Will you do as she asked? Can we get the men ready to ride?”

  “We have little choice. My guess is that we’ll get there to find a garrison of fully armed, fully awake soldiers, but now that Alyce is in their hands, we have to go in, no matter the consequences.”

  Ranulf looked sober, as though finally realizing that the plan Alyce had made sound so logical actually was rather far-fetched. “I’m afraid you’re right, Kenton. I have a feeling that Richard and John won’t be the only brothers at war once Thomas finds out what I’ve done.”

  Kenton was looking off down the road, where a group of horsemen had just appeared around the bend. “We’ll soon find out, Ranulf, for unless my eyes deceive me, that’s Thomas riding toward us now.”

  Not one part of the plan had gone smoothly, Alyce thought gloomily, as she sat imprisoned in her bedchamber. Fantierre had hoped to be able to buy her some time by declaring that she was his prisoner. But immediately after they’d ridden boldly in through the castle gates, Dunstan’s guards had seized both her and Fantierre. Her last view of the Frenchman had been of him sending her one of his gallant smiles with a wink as they dragged him across the yard.

  She had been able to slip the pouch full of powder to a stable boy, but she had little confidence that the lad had been able to understand her hurried instructions. It was, at least, a slight hope, and kept her from complete despair as she watched the sun setting outside her window. She’d been sent no supper and no drink, so she had no way of knowing if any of the drug had been used.

  Her main worry was for Thomas’s men. If they stormed the gate after midnight tonight and found the Dunstan men waiting for them, lives could be lost, and more than just the two Maeve had predicted.

  Alyce walked over to the window. It was three floors to the courtyard below. She wondered if she could jump to the ground and try to warn Kenton and Ranulf. The area under her window was paved with flagstones. A jump would surely break her legs, if it didn’t kill her. She sighed and walked back to the bed. There must be something she could do.

  The knock on her door was so soft she hardly heard it. Why was someone knocking, she wondered, when they’d locked her inside? Then the door creaked open.

  On the other side was Fredrick. Alyce ran to him with a little cry and threw her arms around him, obviously embarrassing the young man.

  “I thought they were holding you prisoner,” she told him.

  “They were,” he said, then he gave an impish smile. “But it appears that Dunstan’s guards are very tired tonight.”

  Alyce’s skin prickled with excitement. “They’ve taken the drug? It’s working?”

  “Aye. The stable lad took it to the cooks, and they doctored the ale and spread the word among the rest of the household not to drink it. Everyone was in on it. Some of the serving girls took it upon themselves to, ah, make sure that all of Dunstan’s men were provided with ample doses.”

  “Bless them all,” Alyce said fervently. “So the hostages are free?”

  “Aye, with their guards snoring soundly.”

  “What about Fantierre?” she asked.

  Fredrick’s smile died. “I’m sorry, milady.”

  Alyce clutched his shoulder as a shiver of dread went down her back. “What happened?”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid that Dunstan had discovered that he was working for Richard. That’s why they seized him when he brought you in this afternoon.”

  Alyce’s throat closed. “What have they done with him?” she asked.

  “He’s dead, milady. I’m sorry. Dunstan had him put to death.”

  It didn’t seem possible. Gallant Fantierre, who had so carelessly shrugged off danger for all these months. Tears welled in her eyes.

  “The next adventure,” she said, her voice thick.

  “Milady?”

  She bit her lip. “That’s what he said death would be—like setting off on the next adventure.”

  Fredrick’s eyes were sympathetic. “Everyone here liked him.”

  She nodded. She couldn’t let herself think about Fantierre now. The task was only partly accomplished. Dunstan’s men might be asleep, but unless she opened the gates to admit Kenton and the others, they would eventually wake up and take control again.

  “What about the baron himself?” she asked Fredrick. “Was he given the drugged ale?”

  Fredrick shook his head. “No one knows, milady. He wasn’t in the great hall with the rest of his men at supper. We think one of his guards took him some food, but we can’t be sure.”

  “Well, he’s only one man. We won’t worry about him. You and I must get to the front gate. By now Richard’s men should be waiting outside.”

  Thomas couldn’t remember ever having been so angry and so frightened at the same time. He’d ridden back to Sherborne feeling triumphant. Richard’s ability to mobilize forces in four parts of the small island country at once had convinced John to talk, and the brothers had worked out an agreement with surprising speed. The king would continue to rule upon his return to the Continent, but if he did muster the troops for another Crusade, he would appoint John as regent while he was in the Holy Lands.

  It all seemed to be settled, and Thomas brought papers from Prince John to Dunstan ordering the baron to vacate Sherborne at once. Even though Dunstan was evil and ambitious in his own right, Thomas was convinced that he would not continue to hold Sherborne without the prince’s support.

&
nbsp; The peace between the royal brothers meant that perhaps he and Alyce could finally have the time to find their own peace. They’d see to it that things were back to normal at Sherborne, and then he’d tell her about Lyonsbridge and take her to meet his grandparents.

  But his pleasant daydreams had been shattered the moment he’d dismounted at the campsite outside Sherborne. He could tell immediately from the faces of his brother and lieutenant that something had gone horribly wrong.

  Now, as he and his men waited impatiently outside Sherborne Castle, he berated himself again and again for having left Alyce alone. He should have never let her come in the first place, and when he’d had to return to Nottingham, he should have taken her with him.

  What a frustrating, obstinate, headstrong, foolish wench she was, he thought. He couldn’t imagine life without her.

  A full moon had risen in the eastern sky, giving an eerie illumination to the jagged walls of Sherborne Castle. Thomas craned his neck in the vain hope that he might spot her, out walking on the walls or hanging out a tower window. Anything to tell him that she was still alive, still unharmed.

  “It’s only a few minutes past midnight, Thomas,” Ranulf said, riding up beside him. “She said an hour.”

  Thomas hadn’t spoken to Ranulf since Kenton had told him what had transpired. He was so furious with his little brother he was afraid that anything he said would be something he might later regret. But he could tell from the anguished look in his eyes that the young knight was almost as worried as Thomas.

  “Aye,” he said stiffly. “We’ll wait the hour. If the gate’s not open by then, we go over the wall.”

  Alyce looked around her in amazement. Everywhere she turned in the great hall, men wearing the Dunstan livery were stretched out, sound asleep. Some were on the floor, others lay with their heads on the table, next to the flagons of ale that had put them in that state. God bless old Maeve, she prayed silently.

  Alfred was waiting for her. He looked none the worse for his ordeal. In fact, there was a bit of fire in his eye and an enthusiasm in his step as he said to her, “Good job, milady. Your father always said that you could outthink ten men, and I have to say he was right.”

 

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