When Lightning Strikes (24 page)

“I do not know, Margery. But he knows I am not his wife. He knew it when he brought me here. When I asked him what happened to Melissande he would not answer me. And therefore I can only guess that he does know what happened to her and that it was no accident. Why else would he have forced me here and tried to make it seem that I was the lady?”

Margery’s lip began to tremble as she spoke.  “I can only pray to our Father up in Heaven that Navarre has not killed our lady. She is very dear to me. Like my own daughter. I had hoped that perhaps this was all a mistake…that Navarre simply did not know that you were not Melissande. You look so like her, child. It is quite hard to discern the difference, except for the mark, of course.”

Margery’s eyes filled with tears as she choked out the last sentence. “A mark in a place that an attentive husband would surely know of.” Her eyes took on a distant look as knowingness crossed her features. Sarah reached out to the old woman stroking her gray hair.

“Perhaps the real Melissande still lives, and they will find her Margery. I will pray for you.”

She didn’t think it was likely, but she would have said anything to spare the old lady’s heart in that moment.

“You are a gypsien, then?” Margery asked as she wiped away her tears and headed toward a huge chest at the foot of the bed.

“Well, yes and no. I am of mixed bloodlines.”

“And what of du Barbaronne?
You are one of his?”

“I am wed to him.
Handfasted. I think that is another reason Navarre sought to bring me here. To hurt Dominic.”

Margery sighed and nodded. “That is just like him to do such a thing! Wicked whoreson…and mind you I do not say it lightly. The hatred in his heart for his half-brother is only surpassed by that of his own mother. It has been naught but a blessing that she has been gone away to England fer the past four months! Now if only we could get rid of him as well.”

“Margery, does anyone else know that I am not Melissande?” Sarah inhaled deeply, afraid of the answer.

“No. Best be to keep it to ourselves until we can get you from here.”

Sarah nodded.

Margery opened the trunk and pulled out a linen shirt and a pair of breeches. They were a bit large but they looked like they might fit Sarah if she laced the pants up tight and rolled the sleeves of the shirt. “These are not much ladylike, but they might make fine traveling clothes.”

Sarah took them and gratefully put them on, even though she knew they were Navarre’s. She didn’t want to lose the dress Indiri had given her, not because of greed, but because of the sentimental value of dress that the old gypsy had put so much work into making. She walked over to where it was hanging and rolled it up.

“Do you have a sheet I can tie some things in to take with me? I will need a blanket and a little food – some bread and cheese maybe and a skin of water.” Sarah began looking through the trunk to see if there were any blankets in there. “Oh – and I will need a candle or some way to light a fire. Can you show me how?”

Margery gave her a strange look. “Fire? You know nothing of flint stone…of how to start a fire?”

Sarah shook her head no.

“Very well, then. I shall show you how before you take your leave. How have ye managed to survive fer so long out there among the vagabonds with no learnin’ of how to make yerself a simple fire?”

Sarah sighed. “I have never had to make a fire on my own.”

She wasn’t lying on that one. “The others have always started the fire or had a torch with which to light one.”

Margery shrugged. “I see. Well, let us do what we can to help you be on yer way. Come closer to me that I may teach you what you need.”

Margery pulled a flint stone from her pocket and proceeded to explain to Sarah how if she were to lay the stone flat on a few pieces of dry tinder and strike it hard with steel it would eventually spark enough to ignite. Then she would just simply need to collect larger pieces of dried sticks and twigs and other brush to keep it going. Not an easy way to do the task, but it worked nonetheless.

Sarah now knew she would also need a large knife, not only for protection – and possibly to catch food, but to strike this precious stone that could start her a fire!

She took the flint from Margery, along with a small tinderbox filled with dried twigs and yellowed pieces of grass. She placed the flint inside the box to keep it safe. She pulled two candles down from their sconces and blew out the flames before tucking them along side the tinderbox and the dress. Margery pulled a fresh sheet from the storage chest and handed it to Sarah and she immediately began tying her precious cargo into the sheet.

“Wait here and I will get
ye some bread and cheese from the kitchen. I will bring ye a knife and a skin of water as well.” Margery headed toward the door and noticed Sarah looking nervously in Navarre’s direction. “Fear not, child…he will not be stirring for the rest of this eve.”

Sarah nodded as Margery walked out the door. She began pacing the room nervously. She couldn’t believe that fate had dealt her such a lucky hand. Navarre was passed out for the night and Margery was actually going to help her escape! Getting out of the main household was not her greatest worry. It was getting through the main gates and out of eyeshot of the guards posted on the walls. How was she going to do it? And how was she possibly going to get far away fast enough with no horse?

She would just have to figure it out as she went along. She looked around the room one last time to see if there was anything else she might need for her journey. She walked over to the fireplace thinking perhaps there might be an extra scrap of wood there when she noticed a loose stone. She reached out to touch it and as she pushed on the stone the entire wall seemed to give. She pushed a little harder and caught her breath when she saw that the wall opened up into some kind of secret passage way. So – that was how Navarre had gotten into the room while she was sleeping in the bath!

She peeked into the entrance, wondering where the passage would lead. Would it take her out of the castle somehow? There was only one way to find out.

She grabbed a candle and stepped inside the opening. She could see hardly anything in front of her. The passage was very narrow. Better not walk too far down this way without the supplies she would need from Margery. Sarah turned around and headed back to the chamber but along the way she noticed a loose brick in the wall. What was it?

She reached forward and pulled it loose. Behind the brick was a book. A handwritten book bound in leather. Sarah opened it and soon discovered it was a diary of some kind. She headed quickly back into the chamber and began reading it. Entry
after entry was written in the elegant handwriting of a lady. Some of it was in English and some of it was written in what looked like French – but it was not the modern French she had taken in high school for a year. She barely could understand any of that much less this! She hadn’t been able to understand Dominic and Marco’s banter when they spoke in their own language either. Perhaps it was a form of older or archaic Norman-French.

She turned the book over and noted the name Marie inside the back cover. Perhaps this book would come in handy and give her some information she may need to get out of the castle. She sat down on the floor and turned the pages reading what she was able to make out as quickly as possible. Then she suddenly came to a page with the name Thomas written on it. It dawned on her now. Marie must be Thomas wife! Navarre’s mother…the woman Dominic had spoken of.

Sarah’s mouth opened as she came to a section that happened to be penned in some form of middle to modern English that related the story of this Marie’s romantic dealings with some man other than Thomas. It mentioned some guy named Jonathan. She could not make out the entire thing, but if she was correct…Navarre was not Thomas’s son! Sarah inhaled deeply as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

This meant that Dominic was Thomas’s only true child.  Did Navarre know about this? Somehow she knew he must. Why else would he hate Dominic and want to kill him with such an unrelenting passion?

She had to get this book to Thomas. Navarre had killed Melissande, no doubt and had been using her own remarkable resemblance to the lady in a charade to cover it up. Now here was this damning evidence that he was not even Thomas’s first-born son and rightful heir. She doubted seriously that Thomas knew about any of this – even after all these years. Why else would this book be hidden away in such a dark and secret place?

If she never did see Dominic again…never knew his touch or saw his smile again before she found her way back home – or died trying, at least giving him back his birthright would be her greatest gift of love to him. He was half noble, for God’s
sake! He deserved to inherit this estate and the name of the father who abandoned him for a ‘son’ who was not even his own – but the bastard child of his cheating wife! She closed the book and carefully tucked it into her shirt before Margery came back into the chamber.

Margery quietly closed the door behind her. “My lady, here is all the supplies I could muster for ye. Some bread, cheese, a knife, a skin of water and some dried apple. I hope it is enough to sustain
ye.”

“Yes!
Yes, Margery. How can I ever thank you?” Sarah stepped forward and hugged the old woman.

“Pray for milady, Melissande…that she comes safely home.” She smiled weakly.

“I will, Margery. I swear it.” Sarah took Margery’s hands in hers. Tears welled up in her eyes because she already knew with almost complete certainty that Melissande was never coming home and was safe already in God’s care. Somehow, she had a feeling Margery knew it now too.

After a moment, Margery pulled her hands free and patted the side of Sarah’s face. “Child, take care to…to make it back to the man who loves ye, this Dominic. Keep yerself safe. I may never see my sweet Melissande again, but perchance we will meet again. I will not ferget ye. Ye look so like her and I can see that yer heart is sweet and good as hers is.” Margery swallowed hard as she looked into Sarah’s eyes.

“I will not forget you, either,
Nanny
.” Sarah spoke the name without thinking twice about it and she could see the gratitude in the old lady’s eyes. “Well, I had best be on my way now.”

Margery headed toward the door. “Come then. Let us get you from here. It will not be easy to say the least. We will have to elude the guards and the servants. His lordship Thomas is still up and about as well.”

“Margery, wait. I think I may have found another way out of here. At worst, I think it may take me to some other part of the castle, or underground. But I have a feeling it may lead out of here.”

She showed Margery the secret passageway. “There. Do you feel that? It feels like a light breeze – possibly from outside.”

Margery nodded. “Yes, but we are upstairs. How? Dear Lord, I thought I knew every nook of this keep and here I see there is a path I have ne’er taken meself upon.” Margery paused for a moment, then continued. “Milady, what if the hollows behind the walls do not lead outside – or if there is no door and ye simply walk around in a circle and find yerself back where ya started from?”

“Then I will meet you back here and you will have to get me out the way you had planned to at first. Come back here to the chamber every so often to see if I am here. Will you do this?”

Margery nodded once again. “How will ye get away once ye’re outside? Ye have no horse…and tis already after dusk.”

“I do not know. I will walk, I suppose.”

“I will have Reginald saddle up a horse and take it outside the back gate behind the stables where it is not likely ta be seen.

“But you said you would tell no one.” Sarah was nervous now.

“Reginald can be trusted, milady. He has served our lordship since he was a young boy and I have…known him for most of our lives. She blushed slightly. Sarah could sense there was something more to the relationship between Margery and Reginald and knowing what she had learned of her in these past hours, she knew that Margery would not trust her heart with a man who was evil. Reginald could no doubt be trusted just as she was trusting Margery. And so now, it was up to her to make it out of here and around to the back gates…wherever that was.

“Very well then.
I will find the back gates when I get outside.” Sarah kissed Margery’s forehead and took a deep breath as she stepped into the opening. She paused for a moment and then said, “Margery, I have something for you. You must swear on the life of Melissande that you will see that this gets to Lord Thomas. Will you?”

The old lady’s brows knit together as Sarah placed the
small leather book into her hands. “This book contains what he needs to know about his son Navarre and Marie. I found this in the passage hidden behind a stone in the wall. Navarre is not who you think he is. He is not who Lord Thomas thinks he is either!  It is of the utmost importance that Thomas gets this book. Swear to me, Margery. Swear it on the life of Melissande.”

Margery gasped and nodded. “I swear to it, my child! I will place the book into his hands meself.”

Sarah stepped into the passageway and looked back at Margery one last time. Margery was already looking in the book. It was highly unlikely that she or any of the servants for that matter could read in any language, but Sarah smiled to herself. She knew the book would reach Thomas safely.