Free Deirdre by Linda Windsor Page B

God.
    “Amen,” she said in union with the priest.
    Scanlan rose to his feet and Deirdre followed his example, brimming with excitement and a sense of purpose.
    “Father,” she announced, vying to keep from appearing too eager, “I have a plan.”

S IX
    G od was surely with her. The arrogant pirate prince had inadvertently provided the means for their escape by having Wimmer ask if any boats would be headed to the island monastery off the Welsh coast. A woman who brought them a plain but delicious meal of fresh baked bread, cheese, and honey told him that her husband was taking her neighbor to visit kin at the monastery tomorrow and would be delighted to transport Prince Alric’s holy friends.
    While Wimmer had sent the woman away since Deirdre and the priest had decided to stay until Orna was well, Deirdre paid particular attention to which of the small stone-and-thatch huts along the beach the fishwife retired. After all, they could have a change of heart.
    “Milady, are you certain this is wise?” Orna studied her, wide-eyed.
    “I advise strongly against this,” Scanlan said, reiterating his opinion of her escape plan.
    “Father, you are convicted that this is where God has sent you. I am convinced that God sent that fisherman’s wife to aid Orna and me. It’s our lives and Cairell’s at stake.” Deirdre checked the breeches she’d taken from the captain’s trunk to make certain they were secure enough not to hamper her in the water, as the voluminous gray robe had done. While the
Wulfshead
was beached, the
Mell
was not.
    “Then let us pray that it’s God’s will you heed and not your own.”
    Why was her kinsman being so contrary? She understood his dedication to his mission, so why couldn’t he understand hers? “That is why, if I am not back in time, Orna must leave in my borrowed robe before daylight.”
    Earlier, Deirdre had asked the obliging Wimmer if she might fetch Alric’s cloak. Since the mate was still savoring the remainder of his honey-smeared bread and, more important, his flagon of wine, he’d given her leave without suspicion. Aware that she was still within sight,she’d reached into the trunk and dragged out whatever clothes she could, along with the bundled breeches and a shirt. With her hair braided and tucked inside the collar, she could easily pass as a boy … if she was detected at all.
    “Milady, I do not think I can pass for you.”
    “Keep the hood over your head and say no more than you must. If you stuff your bedding well enough, it will look as if you are still ill and sleeping, should Wimmer check on you. Remember, it’s this or slavery, Orna. If I do not make it back, you must get back to Gleannmara and tell Father what has happened.”
    “Oh, milady—”
    “Tis madness, fey as a swineherd, I still say,” Scanlan fretted.
    “Tis a leap of faith, Scanlan.” Deirdre was sorry instantly for her snapped response. She knew the priest objected out of concern. “I absolve you of responsibility. Orna, see that you make that plain to my father.”
    Orna looked as pale and frightened as Deirdre should have, except that something about the danger and thought of outwitting Alric of Galstead filled Deirdre with an excitement as heady as strong wine. “Now remember, lass, if I do not return by the first hint of light, go without me.”
    After their meal, she pretended to have second thoughts about remaining with Scanlan after dwelling more on the captain’s warning. She told the mate that she would leave at daybreak with the fisherman’s party, after all. He heartily agreed with her decision.
    It was crazy. A second thought began to nibble like a worm at the grain of her confidence. Everything had to go just right …
    “Father, I would pray before I leave.”
    This was the first thing Deirdre had asked the young priest that he was willing to do without reservation. She knelt with her companions in the stern of the grounded vessel and reached for their hands, as if