Lord of Lyonsbridge

by Ana Seymour

  Ellen looked at Connor, mystified. He simply smiled, pulled on her hands and led the way around a simple bend in the rock. Suddenly they were within a large cavern, lit by cookfires that cast long, spidery shadows on the limestone walls.

  Ellen looked around in awe. “What is this place?”

  Connor stopped and let her survey the scene before them. “This, princess, is what is left of free Saxon England.”

  “Welcome, milady,” said one of the ragged peasants from behind them, with a cackling laugh.

  “You should never have brought her here, Connor.” Walter Little scowled at his former liege lord. He’d been a squire under Connor’s father, and his special duty had been to teach the three Brand sons the art of combat. But when Geoffrey Brand died, Walter had had a falling out with Connor, disagreeing with his decision to seek peace in the struggle with the Norman conquerers.

  Walter had been the leader of a group of malcontents who had tried to continue the fighting and had been outlawed for their efforts.

  “I had no choice but to bring her, Walter,” Connor explained patiently. His former tutor was an old man now, and Connor had learned to be tolerant of his hotheaded ways. “If she’d returned to the castle to give alarm, we’d not have gotten the Cooper family away from the village.”

  Both men looked over to a corner of the cave, where Agnes Cooper and her children were setting up their campsite. The cold walls of a sea-carved-cave were poor replacements for their cozy cottage back at the village, but at least here they would be safe from retaliation for William Booth’s death.

  “They’ll be harrying us all the more with the chit missing,” Walter grumbled. “And now what are ye planning to do with her?”

  Connor had been asking himself the same question. In the scramble to get John safely away, he’d not made plans beyond the moment. Now, thinking with a cooler head, he realized that he could have seen the Coopers off to the cave shelter and ridden with Ellen somewhere else until it was safe to take her back to the castle. Instead, he’d been intent on seeing that John and his family were safe, which meant he’d’ brought the mistress of the Norman castle right into the heart of the Saxon hideout.

  “I should not have brought her here,” he agreed finally, meeting Walter’s accusing stare. “But ‘tis late to rethink that. She’s here, though I doubt that she could find the place if we let her go.”

  Walter shook his head and squinted his one good eye. The other had been destroyed in a joust many years before. That and his matted gray locks gave him a fearsome appearance, but Connor held no fear of his old teacher. “Ye cannot let her go, boy. She may not know the road, but she can smell the sea and hear the surf. All they would have to do is search the coast and eventually they’d find this place.”

  Damnation, but he was right. Connor restrained himself from spewing a string of oaths in self-anger. Walter had ever been strict about such abuse of language. “I don’t think she’d reveal our secret,” he said, but there was uncertainty in his voice.

  “Are you sure enough of that to risk seeing every living soul in this place hanging from a gibbet?”

  Connor leaned forward to warm his hands at the small fire they were sharing. He sighed and said, “Nay.”

  “Ye have a dilemma, boy,” Walter pointed out.

  “if we kill the girl, we could as well start the war all over again.”

  Connor straightened up. “No harm will come to her,” he snapped.

  The old man cocked his head and regarded Connor through an eye that was still sharp within the aged folds of skin. “What is this maid to you, Connor?” he asked.

  “By the rood, Walter, she’s the lord’s daughter. If we so much as harm a hair on her head, we might as well set a torch to the entire shire, ‘twill be that devastating the Norman’s vengeance.”

  The old soldier shifted uncomfortably on the cold stone floor. “I’ve no more stomach for battle,” he said.

  Connor’s eyes took on a glint of amusement for the first time since he’d arrived at the cave. “Nay, I’ll not believe that, you old warhorse.”

  Walter nodded across the cave to where Connor had left Ellen with a nest of blankets, bidding her to sleep. She was still awake, seated upright on the blankets, her back propped against the cave wall behind her. She was watching them. “She’s a beauty, that one. I trow she’s started more than one conflict in her short years.”

  Connor followed his gaze across the room. He tried to give Ellen a reassuring smile, but her expression remained hostile. Turning back to Walter, he said, “I’ll take her back at daybreak.”

  Walter shook his head in disgust. “I’m too old for fighting and too old for loving. And there are days when I thank God that both those forms of madness are behind me.”

  “I’ll make her pledge not to reveal this place.”

  “Aye, and make her pledge to turn your stable straw into gold as well, for she’ll be as likely to carry it out. She’s Norman, lad.”

  Connor stood. “’Tis almost dawn, old man,” he told his tutor. “You can still get some sleep.”

  Walter shook his head sadly. “None of us will sleep easy until this is resolved, Connor,” he said sadly. “But go to her now, for I read from your eyes into your heart, and I see her there.”

  Connor gave him a sad smile, then walked across the echoing cavern toward Ellen.

  Her gold eyes, which had laughed up at him, melting and warm, only hours before, were now as glittery and hard as the metal itself. “I was hoping you’d sleep,” he said to her, dropping down to one knee beside her on the blankets.

  “I’m not accustomed to sleeping on the floor.”

  He had sympathy for her plight, but the resumption of her imperious tone rankled, making his voice more caustic than he had intended. “I suspect most of these people were not accustomed to sleeping on the floor before they were forced to flee here by Norman justice.”

  Ellen looked around the room. “Who are they?” she asked, her animosity momentarily replaced with curiosity.

  Connor shrugged. “Just folks. Most were from regular families from the area. Many of them lost loved ones, which influenced their decision to fight on after the Normans were already firmly entrenched. They were outlawed by William’s son, and have been so ever since. Some of their families have joined them here, since all their possessions were forfeit as well.”

  Ellen’s eyes grew wide. “Then they’ve been living like this for years?”

  “Some of them.”

  “But how do they survive?”

  “As you see them. The caves are their shelter. They get food from poaching, when they can, or from thievery, and from contributions from Lyonsbridge.”

  “The villagers help them?”

  Connor nodded. “Aye. They are their friends, their relatives, some of them.”

  Ellen was quiet and appeared to be affected by the outlaws’ plight, but after a moment, her haughty expression returned as she said to Connor, “None of this explains why you’ve brought me here. I demand that you take me back to the castle.”

  As Connor had told Walter, such had been his intention, but looking at her now, her aristocratic face turned, up in disdain as her gaze swept around the cave, he was beginning to think that his mento had been right. Could he afford to risk the lives of all the people here by allowing her to return home? On the other hand, keeping her here would surely bring down upon them the wrath of her father’s men. Connor had a dilemma on his hands, and he was too tired to deal with it this night.

  He jumped to his feet. “Princess,” he said with a smile, “give the floor a try. You might even find that you like it. I’ve heard that a hard bed gives one a nice straight back.” Then he gave a mocking bow and left her.

  Chapter Ten

  She’d fallen asleep, after all. She’d intended to stay awake, watching for a moment when she could steal away unobserved, but the one-eyed man Connor had been talking with earlier continued to sit by the fire, glancing her way often eno
ugh to let her know that she was under surveillance. Finally exhaustion had taken over, and she’d curled up on one of the blankets, pulled another over her and slept.

  When she awoke, the eerie cavern of the previous evening had an entirely different aspect. The fires still burned, but daylight filtered in through the mouth and several overhead cracks in the walls. A mist from the nearby sea gave the air a salty smell that combined with the odor of salted pork cooking at a fire across the way. To her surprise, her stomach rumbled with hunger.

  As she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Sarah Cooper approached, holding a twin’s hand in each of hers. “Good morning, milady,” she said shyly.

  Ellen glanced quickly around the cave, but saw no sign of Connor. The old man who had been watching her the previous evening was also gone. “Good morrow,” she answered. She would not inflict any of her exasperation on Sarah, who was not the cause of her plight. In fact, her servant girl had been a victim, as well. “How are you, Sarah? You’re suffering no ill effects of the attack?”

  Sarah waggled her head nervously and glanced down at Karyn. “I’d not speak of it, milady,” she pleaded.

  Ellen nodded. “Of course.” She looked at the two younger children. “This is an adventure, is it not, coming to a big cave like this?”

  Karyn nodded, her eyes grave and wide, but Abel spoke. “She wonders if this is where the dragon lives, ‘lady. The one you was to bring her.”

  Ellen had forgotten all about her promise to the child. “No, sweetling. I’m sorry that I came away without the dragon I meant to bring you. We all had to leave fast. I wager you and your brother had to leave some of your things behind, as well.”

  Karyn’s blond head bobbed.

  “But the dragon I have for you is a little wooden one, not real, remember? And there are no dragons here in this cave.”

  “If there were, Connor would slay them,” Abel said.

  Karyn looked at Ellen for confirmation, which she gave with a hint of irony. “Aye, I trow Connor would slay any dragons that came along.”

  Her answer seemed to satisfy the little girl, who dropped her big sister’s hand and moved up against Ellen, clasping her tiny arms around her thigh. Ellen reached over and enveloped her in a hug. “She feels cold, Sarah,” she said, straightening up. “This place is so damp. Shall we go out into the sunlight and warm up?”

  Sarah looked doubtful. “Beggin’ your pardon, milady, but I don’t think we can go without permission.”

  Ellen drew herself up and once again searched the cave for some sign of Connor. “Permission from whom?” she asked, growing indignant anew. Other than her father, she’d never sought permission for anything from any man.

  “We’re not to leave the cave unless they say we can-Connor and Walter Little and the others. We came to ask you to our fire to break your fast. We’ve bread and thick pork grease.”

  The inhabitants of the cave appeared to be a mixed rabble, mostly men, broken-down soldiers from the look of them, but here and there she could distinguish a family group, like the Coopers, huddled around one of the fires. It did not appear that anyone was paying the slightest attention to Ellen or the Cooper children.

  “I don’t see anyone keeping us from leaving,” Ellen said after finishing her inspection. “Let’s go out into the sun for a few minutes just until we all warm up a little.” She reached down and took the little girl’s hand. “Come on with me. It’ll be all right.”

  Abel let go of his sister and took Ellen’s free hand. “I’d like to go,” he said.

  Sarah nodded reluctantly and said, “Very well then.”

  They started toward the cave entrance, and no one made a move to stop them. Abel gave a little skip as he walked along beside her, and Ellen, too, felt her spirits rising as she contemplated leaving the gloom of the cave for the out-of-doors. Sarah quietly followed along behind.

  It was misty, but it appeared that the sun was trying to break through the haze. Ellen and the children emerged from the mouth of the cave and automatically turned their faces toward the sky. At least the day was mild.

  “May we climb the rocks?” Abel asked, pointing up the face of the cliff behind them.

  Ellen hesitated. Though she wasn’t used to asking permission for her own actions, neither was she used to being responsible for the actions of children. Abel was a sturdy little fellow, but tiny to be trying such feats, in her opinion. She looked at Sarah, who appeared to be deferring to Ellen in this instance.

  She stepped out from the cliff and surveyed it. A few feet above the ground, a ledge jutted out from the rest of the stone with a scraggly pine growing diagonally out from it. “You may climb to the tree, Abel, no farther,” she told him. There was a tug at her other hand, and she looked down to see Karyn’s eyes pleading. Ellen turned back to Abel and said, “We will stay here watching you, and when you’ve reached it safely, you can help pull your sister up.”

  The solution seemed to be acceptable to both children. The little boy scrambled up the rock and reached the ledge in seconds, then peered triumphantly down over the edge and said, “C’mon, Karyn, don’t be afraid. I’ll pull you.”

  With a tiny grin, the girl followed her brother’s example, climbing up the rock. Sarah watched a little wistfully, as if she wished that she were still young enough for such play.

  “What are ye doing?” roared a voice from behind them.

  Ellen whirled around and jumped to find the oneeyed soldier standing not a yard from her, his uneven features twisted in anger. “Ye foolish wench, do we not have enough new trouble with that maggot-brain’s killing without you running off and taking the children in the bargain?”

  Ellen felt the blood drain from her face. She’d never been talked to in such fashion in her life. She drew herself up and said, “The children and I wanted some air. We’re causing no harm to anyone.”

  The man brushed by her. He was fully a head taller than she, tall enough to reach up to the ledge and snatch Karyn down. When he’d deposited her on the ground, he did the same for Abel. Both children were shaking with fright, which heightened Ellen’s fury. “Unhand them,” she yelled at him. “Can’t you see you’re frightening them?”

  He didn’t even look at the children, but turned to Sarah. “I thought you, at least, had more sense than this, girl. Take these bairns back to your mother.”

  Sarah did not appear to be intimidated by the man, but she looked remorseful. She gave a nod and reached for the twins’ hands, then led them quickly back into the cave.

  The minute they disappeared into the shadows, Ellen turned back to the soldier. “How dare you?” she spat.

  The anger faded from his eyes, replaced with an amusement infuriatingly like the kind she’d seen too often in Connor’s expression. “I beg your pardon, milady,” he said with an exaggerated bow. “No one leaves the cave without permission.”

  “I’m not accustomed to asking permission to walk out in the fresh air,” she replied, using her most imperious voice.

  The old soldier was not impressed. “I warrant not.

  Ye’ll have to learn new ways here.”

  “I’ll not be here long enough to learn new ways. In fact, I demand to be taken back to Lyonsbridge immediately. Where is Connor?”

  The soldier’s eyebrow went up at her use of the horse master’s given name, but he answered, “He’s gone back. With luck, he’ll find that they’ve not been able to discover the identity of Booth’s murderer.”

  “’Twas not murder,” Ellen protested. “The boy acted to save his sister and then in his own defense.”

  For the first time a glint of admiration lit the old man’s good eye. “If ‘twere a fair world, that story would save the lad, but we all know ‘tis not a fair world. Our only hope is that they don’t discover the connection with the knife.”

  “When is Master Brand returning?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “He’ll be back when he can. In the meantime, milady, I’m Walter Little, at your service.


  Ye’ll let me know if our hospitality is lacking any of the amenities ye require.”

  His voice was still mocking, but warmer than before, and his visage was less fearsome now that the anger was gone.

  “The only amenity I was looking for was a bit of sunshine. Is that too much to ask?”

  Walter gave a half smile. “We have a signal for leaving the cave so that no one blunders outside when there are others about. ‘Tis the only way to keep our secret”

  “Children need to be able to play—”

  “Children need a lot of things they don’t get in England these days, milady,” he interrupted. “What we can’t afford is to let them scramble around the cliffs and get hurt. A dank cave is not an ideal place for curing wounds.”

  His interruption of their morning play seemed more reasonable than it had at first, but she still resented the way he had yelled at them and frightened the children. He’d frightened her as well.

  She looked around the small area where they were standing. Near the mouth of the cave was a straight row of pines trees, making it impossible to see unless you were right on top of it To the north the path they’d descended the previous evening led up the rocks behind them. She couldn’t see the ocean, but she could hear the surf pounding somewhere around the bend of the cliff.

  “Are you in charge here, Walter Little?” she asked. “Surely you must have some kind of a leader?”

  Walter grinned. “We’re an independent lot, mum, but we’ve a leader of sorts. He’s not here at the moment”

  “Well, I want to speak to the man,” she said firmly. “My cousin will be looking for me by now. Our men will be everywhere, and ‘twill simply make things worse for everyone.”

  Walter looked gloomy. “I reckon ye be right about that, mum.”

  “Will you take me back?” she asked hopefully.

  He shook his head. “Nay. And I’ll have to warn ye, highborn lady ye may be, but if ye try to leave the cave again without asking, I’ll haul you back inside like I did the children off that cliff.”