A Woman of the Road and Sea

by Amy Wolof

  “You are mistaken,” said Aventis, causing me to step back.

  “First, it is on an island. Second, its walls are impregnable.”

  The Island

  I froze, watching Leclerc grow smaller until he receded from view.

  “Are you saying,” I asked, “that our task is not doable?”

  “Remember,” said Aventis, “we have often achieved the impossible. Rescuing you from Tyburn; surviving plague and fire.”

  “Two fires,” corrected Carnatus.

  “I assume this island is remote,” I said. “How do you propose we get there?”

  Aventis just stared.

  “And then scale walls,” I went on, “which you said are unclimbable.”

  “First, we must arrive,” he answered. “Then, surveil the area.”

  Brilliant, I thought with dejection—I could have come up with that. Then I blurted a question before I could stop myself.

  “What would Jeffries do?” I asked.

  Carnatus bowed his head.

  “I daresay, no different,” said Aventis.

  “Very well,” I said, “as much as I hate to ask, where are we off to now?”

  “South,” said Aventis. “During my days at the Abbey, I studied the best maps in France. We must make for a place called Cannes.”

  “Sounds dreary,” said Carnatus.

  “The sea is supposed to be fine,” said Aventis. “And I suggest we start for it, before Leclerc’s friends awaken.”

  We quickly retrieved our horses, by and by leaving Paris behind. I was not sorry to go but wondered what awaited us next.

  “Where is this Cannes?” I asked. “Is it near Lyon?”

  “Much further,” said Aventis. “As I recall, it is some hundred-and-sixty leagues.”

  “Good Lord!” I cried. “Is it truly worth the journey?”

  “Yes,” said Aventis, “for Cannes provides entry to the island we seek.”

  “I hope,” said Carnatus, trotting ahead, “that there are beautiful girls on this island.”

  “Doubtful,” said Aventis. “And if there are, we shall strive to keep you away.”

  “Just try,” growled Carnatus with a threatening look.

  Once we passed Lyon, I found the south of France, a country formerly unknown to me, dazzling in its beauty, and, considering the season, damnably clear and pleasant.

  Why, I asked myself, do we choose to live in a land cursed by rain and fog, so bitterly cold in winter that even our tributaries freeze? I sighed, well knowing the answer: England might be miserable, but to me, it was home.

  “Look, Margaret.”

  Aventis pointed east to a valley and its surrounding mountains. “Somewhere over that ridge lies Switzerland and Italy; and, to the north, the Palatine.”

  Such exotic places! I thought. Perhaps if I stared hard enough, I could even see them. Would I ever live, I wondered, to venture over the Alps? Probably not, came the answer, but I was not dismayed. My life already brimmed with adventure that would kill a lesser “man” . . .

  As we rode ten hours a day, the one who enjoyed it the most proved to be Carnatus. It was not that he cared for the scenery, but rather, the food, which pleased even his palate. Of course, I liked it too, but wished to get to Cannes and, from there, our island. Aventis had been tight-lipped about this mystery place, and, as it had been with Jeffries, I did not care to press him.

  During our nine-day trek, we sometimes stayed at inns; or, if there was none, built ourselves a campfire and slept rough in some valley. We rode through places called Valence, Orange, and two towns that ended in “Provence.” At the last, I sampled some olives, the best I had ever had. The wine was of the same caliber, which made leaving, in terms of Carnatus, like urging an elephant to rise.

  By the end of this epic journey even I was saddle-sore.

  “There it is,” Aventis pointed from a cliff. “Cannes.”

  As Carnatus had ventured, it was rather dull, and, were it not for the shining blue sea, would have been a great disappointment. Still, after we’d supped, Aventis—as focused as Jeffries— scoured the beach for three large coils of rope.

  “For the climb?” I asked, after he’d bought them from a fisherman. “I beg your pardon, Aventis, but . . . the walls? Which you said cannot be breached?”

  “They never have been,” he said.

  “And you expect us to be first?” asked Carnatus.

  “At some point of my life,” I said, “I would like to be second.”

  This made the other two smile.

  “Now that we have our supplies,” said Aventis, “we must find a means of transport.”

  He strode further down the beach, which, without doubt, was the comeliest I had seen. It seemed so smooth and warm compared to the shingle at Dover. And the color of that sea! It made me think of a sapphire . . . set in a fine gold ring . . .

  “No!” I cried aloud, causing my two friends to stare. “I am all right,” I told them. “It is

  just . . . I have never seen anything like it. Does this place have a name?”

  “The Côte d’Azur,” said Aventis.

  He made for another fisherman—this one with a small boat—spoke to him in French and offered a palmful of gold.

  “God’s legs!” I cried, catching a closer look at this dingy. “Surely we can do better!”

  “At ease, Megs,” said Aventis. “We voyage but a half-mile.”

  “Oh.”

  I shielded my eyes with my hand, staring out at a chain of small islands which lay just off the coast.

  “Which is ours?” I asked.

  “Sainte-Marguerite,” said Aventis, pointing.

  That meant nothing to me.

  “Let us be off,” he ordered like Jeffries, and, with reluctance, I splashed through ankle-high water. Aventis steadied my hand as I climbed into the boat, while Carnatus’s bulk nearly swamped us.

  “Ho!” I called, as if to a horse.

  “Damnable business,” muttered Carnatus as our new “captain” shoved off, then took up his oars and rowed. “I thought we had done with such craft.”

  “This is the last,” said Aventis.

  We glided toward the biggest island—and this could not have been more than two miles across—while a structure on its north side began to come into view. I turned to Aventis.

  “Fort Royal,” he said. “An infamous fortress prison. First, we must scale the island cliffs; then, the walls of the building.”

  “Why not fly up like falcons?” I cried. “How do you propose to do so? Even Captain Jeffries—”

  “Have faith, Megs,” said Aventis calmly. “As long as we keep cool heads, we are sure to prevail.”

  I shook my own head. For once, I doubted Aventis: not as a moral guide, for in that he was implacable, but as a leader of men. I thought to myself that Jeffries would not have sanctioned this; would not have sacrificed our lives on the altar of Monmouth! Should we all die for him now? That arrogant coward, who, at the first sign of danger, took cover amongst the vegetables?

  “Bah,” I spat. “James Scott is not worth it.”

  “Did he not save your life?” asked Aventis.

  “He did,” said Carnatus. “He bought our lives with his silence.”

  This was, unfortunately, true: I owed that blackguard a debt.

  “Very well,” I said with shrug. As our dingy pulled up to the island, I turned to Carnatus. “We are doomed,” I whispered.

  This seemed confirmed by our “captain,” for, after he motioned us out, shouted something to Aventis, then sped off like a gull.

  “What did he say?” I asked Carnatus, as Aventis made for some trees.

  “To be careful,” he said, “for the fort is manned by forty-five Musketeers.”

  “Forty-five?” I hissed. “Might as well be forty-five-hundred!”

  “Shhh.”

  From ahead, Aventis put a gloved hand to his lips.

  This is madness! I thought as I clomped toward him. You will
never emerge alive. You and Aventis will die, with Frances left as an orphan . . .

  “At least she’ll have means,” I said, while forcing my way through the brush.

  “Quiet.”

  Aventis led us through a grove of pines whose sweet smell calmed my nerves. There were also eucalyptus with their umbrella-shaped boughs.

  “Hullo,” I called, “are we taking a tour of the woods?”

  “They are lovely,” said Aventis, “but we are at the base of the wall.”

  I squinted, seeing between overgrown branches a surface comprised of white rock. There was not even one handhold.

  “God’s blood!” I cried. “A Swiss goat could not climb this!”

  Carnatus let out a sigh.

  “And I am none too light,” he added.

  “We shall create one long rope,” said Aventis, “held fast by stakes which we pound into the rock. It is then but a matter of hoisting ourselves up.”

  “Under the gaze of forty-five guards,” I muttered.

  “Of course,” said Aventis, “we will not embark until night. Now, to gather the stakes.”

  I felt that if I could, I would have plunged one into my heart. Still, accustomed to orders, I hewed branches down with my blade. Then, watching Aventis, I used my knife to whittle them to eight inches with a sharp point at one end. I was glad this took us past daylight and forced me not to dwell on my mind’s dark thoughts.

  “Courage, Margaret,” said Aventis, after we had piled our stakes into what looked like a pyre. “In truth, you have never lacked it.”

  I nodded. That was true, but now I was forty-four, encumbered by a slowing body and worry over my daughter.

  “We must discuss strategy,” said Aventis. “As each stake is pounded in, we use it as a foothold. We tie the rope to the stakes so we have something to grasp in case one of us—”

  “Falls to their death?” I asked.

  “—slips,” he finished. “I reckon we can reach the crest before daybreak.”

  “Provided we are not seen,” I said. “What then?”

  “One step at a time,” said Aventis. “Just as you did not emerge, fully formed, as a highwayman, smuggler, and mother, you must now have faith and become a climber.”

  Faith, faith, I inwardly mocked. I’d rather have a good right arm . . .

  “Margaret,” said Aventis, “since you are the lightest, you must go first.”

  “Naturally,” I sighed.

  Using my knife, I proceeded to pound in stakes: though the rock looked impervious, in places, it was quite chalky. This was both good and bad: though a stake might go in easily, it was not secure, and wobbled.

  “Aventis,” I called, “this will never work. We need something to affix the wood.”

  He nodded, approached our excess woodpile, and proceeded to make hollow fasteners, each with its long wooden screw!

  “You never mentioned you were a carpenter,” said Carnatus.

  “He is like Jesus in every way,” I remarked.

  Even Aventis smiled.

  I found that the fasteners worked, though having to wind in screws took time and multiple curses. It was a slow business and took a good half-hour to climb my way to the third stake.

  Carnatus came up behind, soon followed by Aventis. I knew he had placed himself there either to cushion our fall or abandon the rope if need be. As we made our slow way up, I found the effort tedious—even looping the rope. I had never been fond of heights nor had I ever expected to dangle from a rock face—at night. Especially one as sheer as this.

  My friends and I did not speak—not with Musketeers above. I had no idea of our progress since I refused to look down. It was not long before my arms ached and my feet protested. After hours of this, I grew careless, slipping from a stake and feeling my whole body plummet! My arms flailed as I reached for the rope, and, before I smashed into Carnatus, I felt its twine in my glove!

  “Steady,” said Carnatus as my boots touched his hat.

  “Thank God for your bulk,” I whispered. “You consume the whole cliff!”

  He laughed softly.

  “Watch yourself, Megs.”

  I began the tortuous task of reassuming my post, using the rope as ballast. When I was back in position, I looked up to secure the next stake. What I saw far above were several flashes of orange. Musketeers.

  What could we do, three-quarters up? I shrugged and kept on going, ignoring those bobbing lights. Stake, pound, fastener, screw, rope: it was a routine as monotonous as scrubbing the kitchen floor Yet each strike of my knife would ensure my life or death.

  Finally, as the sun lightened the sky, one of my plumes reached the top of that “impregnable” wall. I gave a sharp pull on the rope.

  “Carnatus,” I hissed, “tell Aventis we have arrived.”

  I heard some muffled words.

  “Good,” Aventis called up. “Can you spot a watch?”

  “Yes,” I said. “They are bearing torches.”

  “The guard,” he said. “Let us hope they are few. Since it is just after dawn, this group may well retire. Margaret, try to listen.”

  I craned my neck, hearing the tramp of boots and the indistinct sound of voices. Then, silence.

  Foolishly, perhaps, I poked my plumes, hat, and head over the top of the wall. Through murky torchlight, I could see a changing of the guard, and, as Aventis had guessed, there were only a handful.

  “Now,” I hissed below.

  The three of us, in succession, managed to hoist ourselves over, with Carnatus suppressing his groans. I scrambled behind some greenery, then saw something dark and imposing. The fort.

  The others followed as we crept toward the new watch. Before they’d settled in, we ambushed them from behind, covered their mouths with our hands and, I am sorry to say, slit their throats with our knives.

  “Musketeers, my rear,” spat Carnatus.

  I looked to Aventis for guidance. He beckoned for us to creep onto a grassy courtyard. There, I was struck by a realization, and it was not good: Fort Royal was huge, possessed of as many buildings as Aventis’s Abbey. What’s more, each structure looked identical!

  “Which is the gaol?” I asked.

  “I would conjecture,” said Aventis, “that Monmouth is the only prisoner. If it were otherwise, there would be risk of discovery.”

  “But—?” I began.

  “He must eat,” Aventis continued. “Let us attempt to follow his meal from the kitchen to him.”

  God’s blood, I thought, how wrong I had been to doubt him! His skill at hatching plans rivaled even Jeffries!

  “What do we do,” asked Carnatus, “as we wait for the duke’s breakfast?”

  He looked unhappy that he wouldn't be served.

  “We find a place,” said Aventis, “and hide.”

  As three high tobymen, we were skilled in the art of concealment, not to mention that this island sprouted trees from every crevice. We crept to a piney grove.

  Once there, we waited. And waited. I found that my concerns grew as the sun arced west.

  What if, I mused, we find Monmouth guarded by ten Musketeers? Assuming we could free him, how then to transport him unseen? And to where? He could not return to England, nor live as a free man in France . . .

  I tried to calm my thoughts as they outpaced the present. In our shady refuge, it was hard to say who paced more: me or Carnatus. The imprints of our boots had worn large holes in the grass. Meantime, Aventis kept watch from behind the trunk of a pine.

  Would this standstill ever cease? I thought, my mind hazy from lack of sleep. Then Aventis gave me a nudge, directing my eyes to a barracks—where a woman had emerged, bearing a plate of food!

  Like the thieves that we were, we crept to a closer grove. From there, we saw her approach a low building and knock. After what seemed an age; a man in a long, dark wig answered and took the tray. He then disappeared inside.

  “She cannot enter?” I asked.

  “No,” said Aventis. “No one m
ust see the duke. I’d venture to say that man is his only companion. In other words, his gaoler.”

  I nodded. But there was something else on my mind.

  “How do we get Monmouth out of there?” I asked.

  “It is clear,” said Aventis, “that the keeper is vigilant. And I daresay the duke is fed at most once a day. That would reduce his exposure.”

  “Oh no,” I said, following the twists of his mind. “You do not mean—?”

  “I do,” he answered. “Gentleman—and lady—back to our prior refuge.”

  “We are no better than Monmouth,” I groused, “hiding amongst the greenery.”

  And so we did, until my own mind cleared.

  “Aventis,” I hissed. “The four guards’ bodies!”

  He smacked his brow with a hand.

  “Margaret, thank God you are here,” he said.

  We three, bent close to the ground, snuck back to the courtyard. Carnatus easily lifted two bodies, while Aventis and I were able to drag one each.

  “A prayer?” Carnatus asked, as we approached the wall.

  “Holy Father,” murmured Aventis, “as we commit the body of our brother to the deep, grant him peace and tranquility until that day when he and all who believe in You will be raised to the glory of new life promised in the waters of baptism.”

  “Amen,” said Carnatus, hurling his bodies down.

  “Amen,” I said, rolling over my burden.

  “We ask this through Christ our Lord,” said Aventis, following suit.

  He led us back to our hiding place.

  Fort Royal

  Feeling a great fatigue after our epic climb, I rested on bed of pine needles, trusting my friend with my safety. They did not disappoint, for when I awoke the next morning, all was as still as the pine over my head. I took out some biscuits I had saved from our crossing, downed a few, and offered some to Aventis. Though Aventis demurred, Carnatus was more than happy to devour the rest.

  When the same woman from yesterday emerged holding her tray, I trailed Aventis, Carnatus trailed me, and we all crept after her. We stayed close to the walls of buildings as we made our way forward. Then, after she’d knocked, Carnatus lifted her off the ground, removing his cravat and placing it over her mouth.