Page 53 of The Rose at Twilight

“Nevertheless, madam, I would hear it. I will allow no secrets betwixt you here.”

“Forsooth, sir,” Madeline snapped, “if you must know, she was but saying she wanted me to accompany her to the garderobe. We trust not your men, nor you, but I do not doubt you will all insist upon bearing us company whilst we do relieve ourselves.”

“Madeline!” Alys fought down her amusement at the appalled look on Sir Lionel’s face, and struggled to appear as though Madeline’s forthrightness had shocked her.

Sir Lionel grimaced. “You may leave, the pair of you, but do not be gone long, else I will come searching for you, and you will be right sorry then to have put me to the trouble.”

Thinking swiftly as she arose to her feet, Alys glanced at Ian to see that the lad was surreptitiously watching her while he helped clear away the tables that had been set up for their supper.

Shifting her glance pointedly toward the door leading onto the gallery, she looked back at him to see if he had understood her.

His nod would have been unnoticeable to anyone not looking for it.

Sir Lionel said, “Shall I send one of my men to escort you?”

“I thank you, but no,” Alys said before Madeline could refuse the offer more rudely. “We shall not be gone long, sir.”

“See that you are not. And remember, your other women remain here with me. They will suffer if you play games with me, girl.”

Taking time only to set her lute aside and to shake out her skirts before hurrying to the gallery with Madeline close upon her heels, Alys went toward the northwest tower and nearly jumped out of her skin when a shape loomed up before her as she neared the spiral stair.

“Ian! You nearly frightened the liver and lights out of me! I did not see you leave.”

“Sorry, mistress. They didna heed me. They be like most o’ their ilk, taking servants for naught but bits o’ furniture. I did ha’ a great pot o’ water in hand, and they didna think tae ask whither I were bound wi’ it.”

“Good. We dare not be long, Ian, but I want to show you the trick of the postern gate.”

“The gate, mistress?” He glanced around nervously.

“Aye, come below.”

“But the ladies’ garderobe lies abovestairs!”

Madeline said, “The gate is below, lack-wit!”

“Hush, Madeline,” Alys said softly. “That we are prisoners is not Ian’s fault, so do not berate him.

” She was hurrying down the steps as she murmured the words, but she did not fear to be overheard.

Sir Lionel’s men were not so many that he would have one posted at every turn.

At the bottom, she peered out the tower door, then slipped through the darkness to the little gate set into the wall.

“Here, Ian, look,” she said, silently opening it.

Taking his hand, she placed it on the secret knob.

“This knob controls the bolt from without. You can slip the bolt, go out, and then slip it back again from outside. The knob cannot be seen from either side if one does not know it exists.”

“Do I go at once then, mistress?”

The temptation to send him was nearly overwhelming, but she resisted it.

“Not until the castle is asleep. You would be missed. We must hope he does not lock you in the dungeon with the others, but I think he has dismissed you as a danger. You have done well, Ian. Continue to be invisible amongst the other servants, and later, when all are asleep, you can slip out. This gate is not guarded now. It should not be later, either. Once you are safely away, you must find Sir Nicholas as quickly as you can and tell him what goes forth here.”

“I will do what I can, mistress, but it will take time tae find him, afoot as I’ll be.”

“You will not be afoot for long if you go downhill to the river—you can hear it now below us—then bear left to the nearest village. The villagers are loyal, and someone will have a horse. Then ride to Bawtry, for ’tis closer than Doncaster, and you can get word there of the king’s procession.

If they have already ridden on to Doncaster, or even Pontefract, you must ride after them.

If they have not yet reached Bawtry, take the forest road toward Nottingham until you meet them.

I think they will have gone on ahead, though, for Sir Nicholas was to have met the Tudor at Barnsdale several days ago. ”

“Come on,” Madeline said. “We must not linger here.”

“No, we must not,” Alys agreed, “but I hope you have no immediate need for the garderobe either, my girl, for we have no time left for such indulgence. We must get back to the hall before that villainous knave comes to look for us.”

Madeline nodded, her mood clearly lighter now that they had a course of action.

Ian went ahead of them, disappearing almost at once in the dim light of the tower, and by the time they returned to the hall, he was back by the fire, adding logs to the blaze while one of the other menservants passed pewter mugs of burnt claret to Sir Lionel and his men.

Alys picked up her lute again and played for some time, and Madeline took her stool to sit near Jonet and Elva, helping Jonet sort the thread in her workbasket.

An hour later, Alys yawned and said, “I hope you do not mean for us all to sleep here in the hall, sir, but even if you do, I must beg leave to retire. It has been a long, exhausting day.”

“Where are your rooms, mistress?”

“On the floor above this one, sir. If you look up there”—she pointed halfway up the high wall opposite the fireplace—“you will see yet another gallery like the one outside this room. My chamber is in the south tower at the end of that gallery. And if it please you, sir,” she added, rising, “I should like my things taken up, and my manservant to sleep on a pallet outside my door as he is accustomed to do. We should all feel safer thus.”

“What makes you think my men would not merely spit the lad on their swords to reach you, mistress? You are a prize worth the taking, as I have said before.” He leered at her over his wine, and several of his men laughed.

“The fact that you would visit your wrath upon them if they did, sir,” she replied dulcetly. “Though you have changed sides for expediency’s sake, I know you for a Yorkist knight at heart.”

“Do you now? Well, by all that’s holy, girl, I vow ’tis true enough that you may trust them to fear me.

” He glared fiercely at those who had laughed, then turned back to her and said, “Take your lad then, and your belongings, and on the morrow, we will talk, you and I. You have spirit, wench, and I doubt not the pair of us can make something of this place in time. ’Tis in a dismal state at present, but that will change. ”

“Aye, sir,” she replied, nearly choking on the words. “Come, Ian, and you others. ’tis time and more we were abed.”

Upstairs, with Ian conspicuously placed on a pallet outside the door to the large bedchamber she had chosen—not because it had ever been her own but because she had remembered it was spacious enough for them all to stay together without tripping over one another—Alys explained to Jonet what they had planned.

Jonet was helping Elva set out thick pallets for themselves and Madeline near the fireplace.

The room had been sparsely furnished as a guest chamber, and since Madeline preferred to sleep alone, Alys was to have the only bed to herself.

“’Tis to be hoped Ian finds the master quick,” Jonet said, shaking out a quilt.

“That Sir Lionel is no gentle knight, mistress. The more I see of him, the less I admire the late King Richard’s judgment of men if he could think that one a suitable match for you! ”

Alys sighed. “He did make some fearful errors of judgment, did he not? But Ian will find Sir Nicholas. He must.”

“If he can get out of the castle,” Madeline said doubtfully.

Alys rounded on her. “I don’t know why you insist on making difficulties,” she snapped. “First you challenge Gwilym at every turn. Then you spit at Sir Lionel when it can do us no good at all. And now you cast doubts on the only plan that can help us.”

“Now then, mistress,” Jonet said soothingly, “she meant no harm by it. ’Tis a pity, I’m thinking, that that gormless gowk, Hugh Gower, cannot be here when he might prove useful for once.”

Madeline smiled ruefully at Alys. “She is right, although I should prefer a whole troop of Hugh Gowers to put these fiends properly in their places. Instead we have only Gwilym, who puts himself at risk for no good cause, but only to … to … and here I thought he did not care a whit—Oh, I talk nonsense. Pay me no heed!” And before Alys could think of a word to say to her, tears began streaming down Madeline’s face, and she said, sobbing, “Oh, Alys, do you think they are safe?”

Alys knew now that she was thinking of only one man, and saw nothing to be gained by pointing out that she knew no more about the condition of the men in the dungeon than Madeline did.

Soothing her as best she could, she persuaded her to make ready for bed.

Madeline obeyed but said she would sleep in her smock since, once Ian had gone, Sir Lionel’s men might come in.

Alys considered following her example but decided she would not give Sir Lionel the satisfaction of intimidating her.

Before climbing into bed, she wrapped her robe around her and opened the door onto the gallery to see how Ian fared.

He smiled at her. “All’s nesh, m’lady. ’Tis as if they think I’m setting guard here on their ain account. I took a peek doon yonder stair tower, and there be not a sign of armor betwixt here and the wee gate. ’Twill be a miracle, I’m thinkin’, if they e’en miss me wi’ the dawnin’.”