Sibylla and the Privateer

by Marina Oliver

  “I must take the risk. I was on my way to Holland to join the King, but he will have to wait.”

  “Oh no. You have been delayed enough. You cannot do that.”

  “Then how will you travel home?”

  She was silent then shook herself slightly. “We will find a way, do not harass yourself.”

  He fell silent, and she began to tell him of the beauties of the Breton countryside, the deep valleys, the contrasting rugged coasts with their deep inlets, and the moors and woods. She was hoping to turn his mind into easier thoughts, but he did not appear to be listening. Suddenly he interrupted her.

  “What was Josselin planning to do with you before you came after me? Had he made plans for sending you home?”

  She forced a laugh. “Oh, he had not yet done aught, I believe.”

  “Did you not ask?”

  “Yes, of course, but he always turned the subject.”

  “He did not give any indication?”

  “Well, he did not mean it, but then I knew him less well, and did not realize he was talking nonsense. He threatened to keep me with him,” she blushed and turned away to hide her face, “or to ransom me,” she finished hurriedly.

  Gerard smiled slightly as he looked at the back of her head.

  “Do you love him, Sibylla?” he asked quietly. She turned wide, startled eyes towards him.

  He smiled gently, and held out his hand to her. With a gasp, she moved towards him, and sank to the ground at his feet, resting her head on his knees, while he stroked her hair.

  “I was in love with Randolph,” she said, in a muffled voice.

  “He was not worthy of your love.”

  “No, but he was charming and handsome, and I relished the admiration he showed me.”

  “Until you discovered he was false.”

  “Yes, but it hurt.”

  “Of course. One’s first love is always intense and always remembered. I hope you will be able to forget the worst parts. But Josselin?”

  “I was hurt so by Randolph, I vowed never to trust a man again, particularly a handsome one!”

  “Aye, they are less to be trusted than the others, mayhap,” he agreed, smiling fondly down at her, though she was still averting her head.

  “And the very next man who comes along, is even more charming and handsome than Randolph. He has me weak at the knees! Even though I know him as a pirate and he imprisons me, and laughs at me!”

  “I could wish you had met a few men in between who were equally handsome,” Gerard agreed, struggling with laughter.

  She stole a look at him.

  “You would have found they had no effect on you, however handsome.”

  “How can you know? I seem fated to be attracted to every handsome man.”

  “I have more experience. I have met many beautiful women, and while I may enjoy looking at them, most of them do not move me beyond that. Sometimes a woman who is less than beautiful has a far greater effect. How else do you suppose ugly men and women fall in love?”

  She gurgled. “With each other, I suppose, when the handsome and beautiful ones have had their pick!”

  “Josselin has not behaved to you as Randolph did?”

  “Oh no, he has been so kind!”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “Yes. In some strange way, I have done so from the moment of seeing him.”

  “Then forget Randolph. He was a warning so you would not trust another man unless there was good reason for so doing. Follow your instincts and trust Josselin. You love him.”

  “But he does not love me!” she wailed, and turned a woebegone face towards him.

  He leaned forward and kissed her on the brow.

  “How can you tell?”

  “He has not said so,” she said simply.

  “Would you expect him to?”

  “Randolph did. Josselin pays me compliments, but they mean no more than normal conversation! And he has his pick of women! There was the girl Julie, who was jealous of me and released Randolph, and no doubt many before her.”

  “She obviously thought she had cause to be jealous.”

  “She was but a servant, an uneducated girl! He will have to make a marriage suitable to his rank. He would never dream of me and I will not be just another mistress, to be discarded when finished with!”

  Gerard was silent, and she feared she had tired him. She urged him to get back into bed and try to sleep, but he smiled and refused. Instead he began to talk to her of his hopes of seeing Charles Stuart restored to the throne of his father, and how he had gradually been drawn into the plotting. He turned her mind from her own problems, and inspired her with enthusiasm for his cause.

  Chapter Eleven

  A few days later, when Gerard was strong enough to walk some distance and could come to the parlor of the inn for meals, Josselin broached the subject of what they must do next. It was after supper and the other men had left the room, disappearing on their own concerns.

  “You will be strong enough to ride, in easy stages, in a few days,” he said to Gerard. “What are your plans?”

  “I must take Sibylla home,” Gerard said firmly.

  “What of your duty to your King?”

  “That must wait. Sibylla comes first”

  “Are you very late with whatever you were planning?” Josselin asked sympathetically.

  “Aye.” Gerard grinned ruefully. “I still have my life though, and my papers, plus some information from Randolph we will find of use.”

  Sibylla sat gazing pensively into the fire, which was always lit in the evenings and provided a cheerful glow. She knew her time for parting with Josselin was drawing near, and though she longed to return to her parents and tell them she had never thought of eloping with Randolph, she wished the present halcyon days could go on forever.

  “I have another plan to suggest,” Josselin said. At his words, Sibylla looked up, puzzled.

  “Will you entrust Sibylla to me for a little longer? I will escort her home on my own boat. Then you will be able to travel on at once. I will send two of my men with you for protection, for you are still very weak and unable to defend yourself if that man should still be around.”

  Sibylla’s heart gave a bound. She might still have several more days of Josselin’s company. She looked hopefully at Gerard and found him gazing steadily at Josselin.

  “You have been very good to us both already. I would not put you to further trouble on our behalf.”

  Josselin shrugged. “It is no trouble. I like to see the end of my projects. Beside, I blame myself for forcing her to come with me. I could easily have discovered the truth and sent her home with those fishermen at the very beginning.”

  “I am thankful you did not, for what would then have become of me?”

  “It has turned out well, I agree. What do you say to the plan?”

  Gerard turned to Sibylla. “Does it satisfy you? I would be happier if I could join the King soon.”

  “Then you must do so. Josselin has taken good care of us both for so long. If it is not too much to ask of him, I would be content to have it so!”

  Gerard smiled and turned back to Josselin. “With our heartfelt thanks, Josselin, I accept your offer.”

  “Good, then we must make arrangements. When do you think you will be able to start?”

  “Tomorrow I will essay a ride, and I will be better able to answer your question afterwards!”

  Gerard did so, and his strength returned so rapidly it was only three days before he declared himself fit to begin the journey.

  Josselin had hired horses in readiness and early the next morning Sibylla took a long farewell with her brother, not knowing when she might see him again.

  “I will pray for a speedy return fo
r the King,” she told him, tears in her eyes at their parting.

  “It will not be long delayed, I feel sure,” he said confidently. “There is so much unrest in both the army and the navy that Parliament will not be able to withstand the pressures for long.”

  “I hope you are in the right on it.”

  “Do not tire yourself. My men have orders to restrain you if you try to ride too far,” Josselin warned him. The two men looked with affection and understanding at one another. “I will deliver your letters when we reach England, and do not worry for Sibylla. I will see she comes to no harm.”

  * * * *

  After Gerard rode away, Josselin did not give Sibylla time to brood, for they set off themselves a few minutes later. He told her they would return a different way, so she would be able to see something of the south coast.

  “I do not propose to ride fast this time,” he said. “That is, unless you are in a great hurry to reach home? I would not blame you if you were.”

  “Oh, no, I do not want…” she stopped in confusion, and then plunged on, “I do not wish to ride fast, though of course I am eager to reach my home. I would love to see some more of this lovely country, thank you.”

  He smiled, but she was too busy studying the ears of her horse to notice, and he soon put her at ease, pointing out the interesting places they rode through, and telling her stories of Breton history. This, she had found, was a passion with him. It was some time before she recalled something that had puzzled her.

  “What letters did Gerard mean?” she asked suddenly, while they were resting at a small tavern, drinking wine.

  “Oh, he entrusted several to me.”

  “Why did he not give them to me?” she asked, intrigued.

  “He has involved me in his plotting,” he replied, laughing at her expression.

  “You? For King Charles?”

  “Aye. He felt it better not to involve you and I will find it easier to deliver them than you would, I imagine.”

  She accepted this, and they soon set off once more. They did not travel the most direct way, and several times Josselin made digressions to show her particular places. It took them five days to reach Chateau Bellegarde, where they received an enthusiastic welcome from Marie who fussed over Sibylla and exclaimed with gratifying horror when she was told of Gerard’s rescue from the quicksand.

  * * * *

  Gerard, with his companions, set off for Avranches. When they had climbed the hill into the town, he turned back to look at the Bay and Mont St. Michel.

  “It is lovely, but treacherous,” he murmured.

  “Like a woman,” Louis, who was one of his companions, said with a laugh. Gerard’s mood of retrospection vanished. He laughed with them. Setting spurs to his horse, they galloped along the road to Caen and Rouen.

  They did not maintain their headlong pace for long, as Louis and his companion, Baptiste, were very mindful of Josselin’s instructions. They soon slowed to a walk and when they reached the little town of Villedieu, they called a halt.

  “I am feeling strong, and it is early yet,” Gerard protested.

  “The Marquis gave us instructions not to go more than ten leagues this first day,” Louis explained.

  “I could manage another ten.”

  “Very like, and none tomorrow,” Baptiste rejoined. “Besides you would not have us flogged, would you?”

  “He would not do that?” Gerard queried, startled.

  “He is capable of worse when his orders are disobeyed. I do not wish to find out what, though!”

  Gerard wondered for an instant whether he had been wrong to trust Sibylla to such a master, but he saw Louis grinning, and smiled back.

  “He threatened me with death if I allowed Mademoiselle to follow him onto the sands,” Louis said, with obvious pride that he served such a man. Gerard gave a shout of laughter, and led the way into the inn.

  They played cards until it was time for supper, and by then Gerard admitted they had been wiser than he in stopping for he was aching in every limb. They were provided with a hearty meal, and retired to the room they shared after a convivial evening with the locals, most of whom were coppersmiths, for the town was famous for its copperware.

  It was some hours later when Gerard awoke. The shutters were closed and he could see nothing, but he heard a sound, and lay still. The sound came again, a furtive rustling, and then the crackle of paper. Gerard stiffened. He had left his coat with his papers in the pockets, on a coffer under the window and it was, he now realized, where the sound was coming from. He slipped noiselessly out of bed and began to creep across the floor, but his foot caught the leg of a stool, and it fell over with a clatter.

  Gerard leapt for the door and reached it just before the intruder. He planted his back against it, and felt rather than saw another man within inches of him.

  “Light a flint,” he called, and doubled up as the unknown assailant punched him in the stomach.

  Louis was already struggling with his tinderbox. In a moment it spluttered, and he lit a candle holding it high. Gerard, bent double, but still defending the doorway, saw that the intruder was Randolph. With a cry of glee, Baptiste leapt for him, and though Randolph fought desperately cutting Louis over the eye with a blow from his fist and damaging Baptiste’s shins with his kicks, he was soon overpowered. They secured his hands with his own cravat, pulled off his breeches to tie them round his ankles, and then sat down to consider what to do with him.

  Gerard retrieved the papers Randolph had managed to take before he was discovered, and remarked that this constant to-ing and fro-ing was becoming tedious.

  “Am I never to be rid of your attention?” he asked.

  “What shall we do with him?” Louis asked.

  Baptiste laughed suddenly. “Do you remember the time the Marquis discovered the Curé attempting to seduce one of the village girls? He tied him naked to his own church tower.”

  Gerard laughed. “It’s hardly the same case.”

  “No but tomorrow is Sunday, and the church is close by.”

  Gradually the idea took hold of them, for they had drunk freely the previous night. They carried the furiously struggling Randolph outside, managed to haul him up the tower of the church, and then, despite his protests, stripped him and used his own clothes to secure him to a prominent section of the tower. They decided to gag him so that he would not be able to attract the attention of an early riser, and went virtuously back to bed and their interrupted sleep.

  They were woken by the bells of the church, and immediately recalling the events of the night, dressed and hurried outside.

  The bells were tolling unconcernedly, but the townsfolk, instead of making their way decorously to Mass, were congregating in puzzled and laughing groups outside, looking at the strange sight that met their eyes. Some matrons were attempting to hurry their daughters within the church, and soon the Curé came out on to the steps, to tell his congregation that the unfortunate man was being released as soon as they had fetched a ladder long enough. In the meantime, did they not think they could leave him some solitude?

  Soon the congregation was inside the church and some men busy with ladders. Convulsed with laughter, Louis suggested they ought to remove themselves, and so they paid their bill and discreetly left the town.

  “I doubt if he will dare to attempt another burglary,” Baptiste said with satisfaction.

  “No, but I am being careless. I will sleep with my papers under me in future,” Gerard declared, angry with himself for so nearly losing them again. He reflected he did not make a very good plotter, and hoped the King had more effective help than he was providing.

  Still, they did not need to take further precautions, for they saw no more of Randolph and completed their journey safely. Gerard bade his companions farewell and gave them his sincere thanks.r />
  * * * *

  The day after Josselin and Sibylla reached the Chateau he left her with apologies, explaining he needed to collect his crew and make the boat ready.

  “I beg you to explore the house or the gardens, whatever you wish,” he suggested. “As soon as I have set things in motion, I hope to be able to come back. Then I will act as your guide myself. In the meantime Marie will take you where you wish.”

  Sibylla thanked him, but after he had left she did not feel like having Marie’s company and asked whether she might walk in the gardens alone.

  “Of course,” Marie replied. “You will be perfectly safe for the men are posted about the grounds to stop anyone coming in.”

  Sibylla shivered a little at the thought that Josselin found it necessary to take such precautions to protect her, for she did not feel she could be in any danger. She smiled at Marie however, and went to wander about the grounds, not, despite her admonitions to herself, straying far from the house.

  The Chateau was a long white symmetrical building, two storeys high, with an avenue of young poplars leading about a mile to the gates. A lake sat behind the Chateau with several little islands scattered about it. To one side and in front of the Chateau, formal gardens laid out in the Italian manner extended, and to the other side was a carefully contrived wilder section, with a bewildering variety of trees.

  Sibylla found everything admirable, and lost all sense of time as she wandered about. She found a grotto in the wild part, with a tinkling stream flowing through it, and seats placed where they caught the sun.

  She had sat down, lost in dreams, when Josselin found her.

  “Come, Sibylla, it is dinner time.”

  She jumped up, and began to apologize. He laughed, and said he thought they would wait for him before serving it. When she grinned at him, he held out his hand to help her scramble over the rocks.

  “I hope you like my garden?” he asked, as they walked towards the house.

  “It is delightful. Is the lake artificial?”

  “I had it enlarged. I was wondering whether it was large enough yet. What do you think?”