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The Trek
Roland had to think quickly. He couldn’t abide the despair in Adelina’s brown eyes. “It’s a setback, nothing more,” he said as he got to his feet and helped her rise. “And certainly not your fault. I should have insisted Mandeville be guarded. He was clearly adamant you go to Carlisle with him.”
“I fear the wolf attack stole his wits,” she replied. “He wasn’t a bad man.”
There was no time for recriminations. “The fire will have drawn attention,” he said. “We must leave before dawn breaks.”
“I have a few spare horses,” the baron replied. “But not sufficient for you and your crew.”
“The longboat,” Adelina suggested. “The one Mandeville and I arrived in.”
Clever girl.
“Still at Ravenglass, I’ll warrant,” Terric said.
“A five mile walk if you proceed along the beach,” the baron added.
“If we set off now,” Roland calculated, “we should arrive in the village before anyone is up and about.”
“You cannot ask such a thing of Adelina,” the baroness exclaimed. “It won’t be an easy walk in the darkness with sand underfoot.”
“I’ll manage,” Adelina protested lifting her chin.
Roland was prepared to carry her if necessary, but he admired her courageous spirit.
“We’ll see my sister delivered to Ravenglass,” Terric insisted.
“And thence to Normandie,” Roland declared, though the means to get them all safely to England’s south coast and across the Narrow Sea eluded him.
* * *
With the help of the baroness and her lady’s maid, Adelina shoved a few of Marguerite’s clothes and the dowry chest into a satchel, gratefully accepted a package of provisions and hurried back down to the beach.
She surveyed the motley crew assembled there. Roland and Terric in borrowed clothing, Adrien and the other survivors still cocooned in blankets. It was a ragged army, but she had confidence in Roland’s ability to see them through the disaster that had befallen them. He’d taken control of the situation quickly when many men would have faltered.
He took her satchel and slung it around his body. “Terric and I will take turns carrying you,” he said, bending the knee.
She shook her head. “I can walk for a while.”
She expected an argument, but he nodded, clearly understanding her desire not to be a burden.
“If you recover the longboat, two days’ hard rowing should take you to Chester,” the baron advised Roland. “The de Lacys are no friends of King John. Roger de Lacy is Constable of Chester Castle. He will help you.”
He and his wife bade them a tearful farewell and the trek south to Ravenglass began with only a crescent moon to guide them.
After ten minutes slogging through dry sand, Adelina begged Terric’s aid to remove her grit-filled shoes.
She wasn’t sure how much further they’d traveled when her brother lifted her onto Roland’s broad back.
Clinging to his neck, she was grateful for the strength in her bearer’s legs and the reassuring scent of healthy male sweat.
* * *
“It’s as you said, my lord,” Thyst croaked after creeping back to where the rest of their band lay hidden in the reeds behind the village of Ravenglass. “No one on guard and the oars still in place.”
Roland sent a silent prayer of gratitude heavenward and murmured his thanks to the wily Breton who’d served his family for more than a decade. “And no one about in the village?”
“Nary a soul.”
