So Worthy My Love (61 page)

The hall door was quietly closed and barred for the moment as the small group took account of themselves. All had survived, at least to this point.

A shout sounded from above, and a thunder of feet overhead announced the storming of the door. Hilliard's bellow of frustrated rage gave evidence of their lack of success. More thumping movement and mumbled voices drifted down as the soldiers regrouped for another charge.

“The door should challenge their efforts for a few moments yet,” Maxim commented with a laconic smile. “ ‘Twas rebuilt to withstand the assault of an angry vixen.”

His expression grew sad as he crossed to Elise. He took her hands in his and gazed deep into her eyes. “I've no time to explain, my love, but after we reach the courtyard below, you must ride out with Spence and Fitch. Dietrich and the stable boy will go with you while we hold Hilliard and his men at bay. Eddy should be able to carry the both of them, and Nicholas has said he would take the two horses across on the voyage.”

“Maxim! What are you saying? I'll not leave you! I cannot leave you!”

Elise would have made further protest, but he pressed his fingers gently against her mouth to still her arguments. He blinked at the sudden wetness in his eyes and leaned down to press his lips to her brow. His mouth found its way to hers, and a long moment passed as he kissed her farewell, then, raising his head, he clasped her close to him, as if he would draw her into himself.

“I cannot go with you now, Elise. Please try and understand. You must sail with Nicholas.” The muscles flexed in his cheeks as he fought for control. “I'll come later by way of a different vessel.”

Elise clung to him as tears made wet paths down her cheeks. “But how will you get out of Germany if not by way of Nicholas's ship? No other Hansa captain will allow you passage, not when Hilliard has raised such a furor.”

Maxim drew back to look down into her tear-streaked face. “Speak no word of it beyond this moment, my love, but an English ship will be coming down the Elbe River to carry us home.”

“If that be true”—Elise's pleading eyes searched his face—“then why cannot I come with you?”

“ ‘Twould be too dangerous, and I want you safely away in case Hilliard wins the day here.”

“Oh, Maxim, I cannot leave you!” she wept, flinging her arms about his neck in a desperate attempt to dissuade him. “Please don't make me.”

“You must, my love,” he whispered against her hair. “If we win the day here, there is still the march to the river to make, and if we're attacked in the open, we'd have no defense. Please go so I need not fear for your safety.”

Reluctantly Elise murmured her consent, and Maxim turned to Sir Kenneth who waited beside the door. At his nod the knight carefully lifted the bar and swung open the portal. Thrusting his head out, he searched up and down the corridor, then, with a silent gesture to Maxim, stepped into the corridor. He was followed by Sherbourne who waited just outside the door as the others filed silently out of the
chamber. The loud sounds drifting from the floor above masked their descent to the courtyard. There, Kenneth and Sherbourne dashed to the wall where they turned the cannons about, directing the gaping muzzles toward the front portal. The servants scrambled to the stables and, a brief moment later, dragged forth saddled mounts.
Herr
Dietrich climbed a brace of steps near the wall in order to mount Eddy, and the stable lad received the aid of his stout arm and was swept easily behind. Spence came at a run to lead Elise's mount around to her, and Maxim stepped close to hold his wife.

“Promise me you will come to me safe and sound,” Elise begged him through her tears.

Maxim held her hard against him. “Guard my words carefully, madam,” he murmured into her hair, “for I tell you this only to assure you of my most earnest intent to return to England.” He drew away enough to meet her gaze, and as he spoke, he pressed her hands in prayerlike fashion between his palms. “If all goes well, my love, I mean to bring Hilliard back with me.”

A shout from the windows high above marked the Hansards' entry into the chamber, and those on the ground looked up to see Hilliard and some of his companions leaning out the windows. There was a flurry of confused questions as the men searched the outer wall for some clue as to how the small group had executed a descent from so lofty a height, but their curiosity remained unappeased. Grinding his teeth, Hilliard followed his soldiers from the room, stepping over the splintered door and stomping his way down the stairs. He was of a mind to
think the Englishman and his group had somehow grown wings.

Maxim lifted Elise to the back of the horse and slapped its rump to send the animal flying from the courtyard. Though he felt as if a heavy weight had just descended upon his chest, he ran to the wall to watch the small band of riders race down the lane away from the castle, then he turned to man the small cannon. He had little time to feel the sadness that was waiting to overtake him, for in a moment the remaining force of Hilliard's men came charging through the doorway to be met with twin, wide-sweeping, missile-spraying jolts from the two small cannons. It was a long time later when Hilliard finally raised a knobby pole upon which a white banner had been fastened.

T
HE SHIP SEIZED
a bone in her teeth as it filled its sails with deep gusts of wind. Though she was a stiffly laden vessel with a full cargo of copper, silver, dried cod, and Hamburg beer in her hold, her stalwart bows sliced through the turbulent gray sea with ease, making good time. Close above her white sails, dark clouds scudded past, chased by strong-winded zephyrs from the north. Now and then a spattering of raindrops slashed down upon the deck and were themselves washed into oblivion by the ocean spray that hurled itself over the prow. Sea gulls soared aloft on widespread wings and cried their strident song as they followed the vessel's progress around the Frisian Islands, then the topsails cracked like guns as the ship came off the last windward tack around the end of the isles. The helmsman caught the spinning wheel and steadied the rudder amidship, while the crew raced through the tops and along the deck to set more sail. The loudly bawled commands of the crew masters created a cacophony of sound
that was discernible only to a seaman's trained ear. Slowly the Netherlands fell astern and the waters deepened as the ship headed out into the North Sea. The cries of the sea gulls
ceased as the birds gave up their unrewarding vigil and sought food among the inshore shallows.

Elise shivered as the chilling gusts whipped her heavy woolen cloak and invaded the billowing hood to snatch her hair from its sober mooring. She had donned plain, warmly serviceable clothes, preferring to keep her better gowns and fur-lined cloak packed safely away. She had been wise in doing so, for she could feel a fine spray of spindrift upon her face as she stood by the rail and looked out to sea toward the distant horizon. England lay somewhere beyond that vague, grayish murk which blended sea with sky, but she could feel no joy at going home when her heart was still behind her. She had no assurance that Maxim was alive, and when the memory of the raging Hilliard continued to haunt her, she found herself confronted by a vision of her beloved lying dead at the feet of that bovine beast. Had she yielded to her anxieties and not waged a desperate battle to uproot the strong nesting instincts of her fears, they would have settled in her mind to completely rend her sanity. By dint of will and a tenaciously stubborn
resolve, she kept reminding herself of her husband's prowess in battle and of his somewhat uncanny ability to turn every trial into a triumph.

Seeking a place beyond the reach of the mist, Elise climbed to the quarterdeck where Nicholas and the helmsman kept wary eyes on the binnacle. She was careful to maintain a discreet distance from the captain, and for once he hardly noticed her as he checked the heading and trimmed his ship. His voice was subdued but confident as he spoke to the
helmsman, and with close attention the man followed his directions.

None could fault Nicholas's intelligence or his manners, Elise thought as she shifted her gaze starboard. It was evident that his men respected him as did she, and though at times he had been somewhat reticent since their departure from Hamburg, for the most part he had been kind and solicitous toward her. She was certainly wealthier for having been acquainted with the man, for he had returned more than triple her investment. The real reward, however, was in knowing a man of such rich character, for he truly enjoyed life to the fullest measure.

He had been kind enough to vacate his cabin for her again, and whenever there was occasion to share the delectable cuisine prepared by
Herr
Dietrich, they exchanged congenial pleasantries and conversations, avoiding any mention of what might have been. There were times when Elise would catch him watching her, as if he shared her fears for Maxim with equal pain. At other times he seemed to struggle with the same restrictions he had placed upon himself during their first voyage together. She belonged to another; he had no intention of intruding or appearing forward, and yet when he had valued her beyond all other women, enough to want her as his wife, there was a tendency, or perhaps even a desire, for a truce or an understanding to be established between them so they might somehow glean a lasting friendship from the ashes of the past.

“Segelschiff! Viertel Steuerbord!”
The shout rang out from the lofty heights above, and when Elise looked up, she saw the lookout high in the
crow's nest of the mainmast pointing behind them to where a thin slice of land still darkened the horizon. A speck of white seemed to dot it, and though Elise could not understand what he had said, she knew the significance of that small spot of white. It was the sails of another ship!

Nicholas seized the kenning glass from the mate and whirled to face the stern quarter, bringing the spyglass up to his eye. For a long moment he peered through the elongated cylinder, and when he lowered it again, he wore a sharp frown of concern. He shouted brusque orders in rapid German, at which the helmsman quickly nodded, and then strode to the rail for another look through the glass.

“An English ship!” He spoke over his shoulder to Elise. “Sailing from the Netherlands.”

“Is she . . . one of Drake's ships?” Elise was almost fearful of asking, knowing what a confrontation with Drake would mean for Nicholas. By his own admission he was not as wealthy as Hilliard and losing his ship and cargo would prove a major blow for him.

Nicholas fretted in anxious worry. “That elusive devil! Who knows vhere he is now! He has been busy plundering Spain's vealth ever since Elizabeth gave him leave to sail again. From the Basque ports last summer, to the Cape Verde Islands and the Caribbeans this year, he flits about like a demon possessed. Santiago! Hispaniola! Cartagena! All have fallen beneath his guns! He vill make Philip a pauper yet! And all those who trade vith him! It vould be bitter irony indeed to fall afoul of him!”

“But surely he'll let you go free when ‘tis realized you carry an English subject.”

“Drake is hungry! He vill not stop to ask questions.”

Nicholas stepped away and barked out orders which sent his men leaping into the rigging to set more sail. He keenly felt the need to wring every bit of speed he could from his vessel. Another shout sounded from the masthead, and almost as one, they turned to see another vessel off the starboard bow. The ship had moved within clear detail while attention was focused on the one astern. Even as they stared, a puff of smoke erupted from her bows and drifted downwind. A geyser of water rose several miles off, but the message was clear. Lay to! Nicholas had no choice but to reduce sail and bring her about, for he had not the guns with which to defend her against two opponents.

A short time later the English galleons, with their tall sail-shrouded masts looming large and imposing, came up on either beam of the smaller carrack. The larger of the two drew alongside, and grappling hooks were thrown over the rails to bring the two vessels together. The Hansa captain waited with jaw rigidly set as a boarding party came across.

The commander of the English vessel was a rather tall, handsome man. He introduced himself as Andrew Sinclair and greeted Nicholas almost cheerily, though that one glowered in mute rage at this offense. “Forgive me for delaying you, Captain,” Sinclair begged, “but having just left the Netherlands, I was wondering if perhaps your ship is one of those which has been supplying Parma's Spanish troops.” At Nicholas's look of outrage, he continued pleasantly, “If you are, I must warn you that I've no other choice but to seize your ship. Lord
Leicester would not approve of your conduct and would most certainly take offense with me if I did not effectively discipline you.”

Nicholas was not in the mood for such humor. “Yu have obviously taken note that my ship is laden to the maximum draught and, despite the fact that yur suspicion is false, have plans to seize vhat is in her hold on some inane pretext or another. If that be the case,
Kapitan,
then allow me to show yu vhat ve are carrying.”

He spoke aside to his mate, and with a sudden grin, that one motioned for another sailor to follow him as he hurried away. As Nicholas and his guests awaited the return of the two, Elise felt the closely perusing eye of the English captain upon her, and when she dared to meet his stare, he readily returned a smile to her coolly questioning gaze.

Nicholas's eyes grew icy-blue as he took note of the Englishman's heightened interest in Elise. He might have yielded her to Maxim's bold claim, but he would be damned before he would allow the likes of this sea-bound roué to think she was there for the ogling.

Clearing his throat, Andrew Sinclair turned his eyes from the unspoken challenge in the maid's eyes and lifted his own aloft to the red flag marked with the white emblem of a tri-towered edifice flying overhead. “You are from Hamburg, Captain?”