“How many guards do you think are left at the castle?” Lord Claybrook asked the question calmly, as if it was a matter of little consequence.
“About thirty. Most of his guards and soldiers are with the duke.”
“Excellent. We can subdue thirty guards in no time.”
“What did you want to do with Lady Margaretha?”
“We will have the priest marry us immediately, in the castle chapel. Once we kill Duke Wilhelm and his oldest son, Valten, there will be no one to object. Lady Margaretha will think the guards were attacking on my uncle’s orders, and that I am her savior. Even the king will sanction our marriage.” Lord Claybrook laughed.
Margaretha clung to the tree branch she was leaning on, her stomach tumbling like a stone rolling downhill.
The two of them spoke of who would attack where, and of killing the guard at the castle gate first. Margaretha became so dizzy, she had to close her eyes and hang on tight. She heard little of what they said next, unable to defeat the panic that overwhelmed her senses. She focused on breathing in and out; she couldn’t faint.
After what seemed like a long time, Lord Claybrook and the captain of his guard started walking back toward the castle. Soon she couldn’t hear them at all.
“O God, what shall I do?” Her voice shook. She began to climb down out of the tree, which was difficult, the way her arms and legs were shaking.
I must tell someone. But who should she tell, since neither her father nor Valten were home? She didn’t want to terrify her mother. She should tell her father’s guards, but she had to be careful. If Lord Claybrook found out she knew his plan . . .
She stumbled over her own feet as she ran through the orchard and up the hill toward the castle. Would her father’s guards even believe her story? Perhaps not. But there was one person she knew who would.
Chapter
11
Margaretha ran through the town gate, then the castle gate, and across the stable yard. The sun was already shining over the horizon, but the stable was still dark. She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust, and then she saw Colin dumping oats into a bucket. He looked over his shoulder, and when he saw her, gasping for breath after her long run, he dropped the bucket and hurried toward her.
“What happened?” He grabbed her arm.
“Is anyone around?”
“The other stable boys, but they don’t speak English.”
She whispered, “You were right,” and paused to catch her breath. “I spied on Lord — on him. It is just as you said. We’re all in danger.” She glanced around. Two other stable boys were bringing oats to the horses. They glanced at her curiously but looked away when she made eye contact with them. She leaned even closer to Colin. What did it matter if it looked like she was being much too familiar with a servant?
“He is planning to attack the castle guards and take over the castle and the town.”
“When?”
“At dawn tomorrow. He will make it look like he is saving us from his uncle. He will force me to marry him and kill my father and brother when they come home.” Her voice caught on the last word and a dry sob escaped her throat.
“Don’t worry.” Colin clasped her hand. “We will stop him, now that we know his plan. Good work, my lady.”
His words and the expression on his face helped her take control of herself. But would Colin know what to do? How could he keep Lord Claybrook from killing her father and brother? Or from forcing her to marry him?
“We have no weapons. We must tell my father’s guards, the ones who are left. But how, without looking suspicious?”
“We will find a way. The element of surprise is on our side, as long as they don’t know that we know.”
Without warning, anger welled up inside her, stoking an internal fire that spread upward to the top of her head. “How dare he think he can take over my town and my family? How dare he talk of killing my father and brother? That hat-wearing, impudent, conceited . . . I don’t know enough English words to insult him properly.” She had never struck anyone in her life, but she could slap his face if he were in front of her now. “If he thinks I will marry him — ”
“Listen. We don’t have much time. We need to form a plan.”
“Oh, Colin, if it wasn’t for you warning me, I never would have guessed what a devil Claybrook is. I thank God you came.” She squeezed his hand, too overcome for a moment to say anything else.
“You can thank me later. Now we must get word to your family and somehow get you all to safety.”
“Yes. Yes, we must.”
The stable master entered the stable and yelled, “What is this? Boy, get back to work!”
“I am sorry, Dieter, but I have need of him at the castle. You must give him the day off from his duties in the stable and allow him to . . . that is, I need his services. You must excuse him.”
Dieter stared hard at her. Finally, still scowling, he said, “I shall speak with your father about this when he comes back.”
“Of course. I do not blame you, and you are right to confirm with my father that what I am telling you is true. Farewell.” She clung to Colin’s hand as she ran out of the stable toward the castle.
“Wait.” He pulled on her hand when they were halfway across the stable yard. “We mustn’t excite suspicion. Slow down.”
This was life and death. Her whole family was in danger, especially her father and Valten. Never had she faced such a dangerous situation. “I must be brave,” she muttered to herself, but in German, because she didn’t want Colin to know what she was saying. “I must be wise and shrewd and brave. And I’ve never been wise or shrewd or brave in my life.” She took a deep breath and covered her eyes with her hand. “God, help me.”
Claybrook was about to attack Hagenheim and kill Duke Wilhelm, and Colin’s only ally was Lady Margaretha, a sincere but sheltered girl at best, a heedless flibbertigibbet at worst.
And now she was muttering to herself.
“One thing you must not do,” he said, halting her and getting so close to her she was forced to look into his eyes. “You must not call me by my name.”
“Colin?”
“You cannot call me that.”
“Shall I call you Gawain again?”
“That is fine. Or perhaps what the stable master calls me. He calls me Froschjunge.”
She stared back at him with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open. “Colin, that — ”
“Don’t call me that name.”
“I don’t think you want me to call you Froschjunge either. Froschjunge means ‘frog boy.’ ”
Frog boy. He might as well be the court jester. He huff ed and started walking toward the castle. “Just call me Gawain. And don’t walk beside me. It shouldn’t look like we are together. You should walk in front of me. I’m just a lowly stable boy, or so everyone is supposed to think.”
Lady Margaretha must have been remembering what Claybrook had said, because she looked properly frightened. “Of course.”
She hurried to pass in front of him and walked at a reasonable pace all the way to the castle, entering through the door to what turned out to be the Great Hall. He followed at a respectable distance behind her — respectable for a servant, which he was tired of pretending to be. He must have lost his mind, setting off after Claybrook to avenge Philippa’s death. After all, it wasn’t as if she was his sister or even his love, although he had once hoped to marry her. When she had begun to show interest in Claybrook, he had ceased to think her suitable as a wife. And when he’d found out Philippa was pregnant with Claybrook’s child . . .
He’d come after Claybrook in a fit of rage, wanting to avenge Philippa’s death, stirred by outrage at the injustice of it, so sure that he could overcome Claybrook himself. Since then he’d suffered deprivations, danger, had been nearly beaten and starved to death, and now had the humiliation of being thought of as a lowly stable boy, eating in the kitchen with the other servants and sleeping on a pile of straw.
&nbs
p; His life was in as much danger as ever, and many more lives were at stake than just his own, including Lady Margaretha’s entire family. And Lady Margaretha was in danger from a fate worse than death — marriage to Claybrook.
He followed Lady Margaretha up the stairs. No one was around to question what he was doing in the castle. She led him up to the solar where a woman he assumed was Lady Rose sat stitching something. Also in the round tower room was a beautiful pregnant woman who looked to be near her time, as well as a girl a little younger than Margaretha who was playing with another girl of about six years.
If the two younger girls were Margaretha’s sisters, and the pretty pregnant woman was the Earl of Hamlin’s wife, along with Lady Rose, they were all about to receive a great shock. And he had to think of a plan to save them. He would rather forfeit his own life than allow them all to die, as he had allowed Philippa and John to die.
Margaretha approached her mother. “I have something I must tell you, but promise me you will not become too alarmed.”
“Of course, darling. But first . . .” Mother was the picture of calm as she laid her embroidery across her lap and smiled up at Margaretha. “Lord Claybrook asked if you would go riding with him this morning. He said he would wait for you in the Great Hall. I told him you would be awake soon.” Her face clouded. “What is amiss? You look pale.”
“Mother.” Lady Margaretha took her hand and knelt before her. “I have discovered something about Lord Claybrook.”
She was speaking quietly, and Gisela moved closer to listen. How she hated to frighten them all, especially when Gisela was so near her time. Even Kirstyn and Adela turned their attention to Margaretha as she went on. “He is not the man he pretends to be.”
“He’s not Lord Claybrook?”
“He is Lord Claybrook, but he isn’t the harmless person he would want us to believe him to be. He intends to use his men to attack Hagenheim.”
Her mother drew back slightly while her sisters gasped. “How do you know this?”
“I overheard him telling the captain of his guard. They were making plans to attack while Father is away. He will pretend his uncle, the Earl of Keiterhafen, is attacking us, but it was his plan all the time. And I never would have known if not for this man.” She turned and looked at Colin. “He is from England, from the same region as Lord Claybrook, and he knows of Claybrook’s treachery there, where he actually murdered a young lady. He came here to warn us. He warned me, but I didn’t believe him at first.”
Mother’s eyes were round and her face had turned pale. “Are you sure?”
“Mother, I heard Lord Claybrook with my own ears. He is plotting to take over Hagenheim. Believe me when I say that we are not safe. Our family must flee, and we must send word to Father and Valten about the danger. It is Lord Claybrook’s plan to kill them both.”
Gisela stood. Adela began to cry, and Kirstyn rasped, “That can’t be true. What kind of person would do such a thing?”
Colin stepped forward and said in English, “We need a plan, and we must not let Claybrook know we are suspicious of him.”
“What is he saying?” Her mother rose from her seat, her embroidery falling to the floor.
“He doesn’t speak much German, Mother. He says we need a plan and we must not let Claybrook know we know his plans.”
Colin kept speaking and Margaretha translated his words to her mother, Gisela, and her sisters. “We must get the family out of the castle, but quietly, so Lord Claybrook does not become suspicious. We must alert the guards who are still here at the castle and in Hagenheim, and we must send a message to Father and Valten alerting them of the danger.”
“We can go to the house beside the river,” Gisela said with a grim set to her mouth, “where Valten and I stayed for a few days after our wedding. It’s in the forest. I doubt Lord Claybrook or his uncle even know it exists.”
“Yes, that is a good idea,” Mother agreed.
Margaretha translated their conversation to Colin, who said, “But they must not all leave the castle at once. It will attract too much attention.”
Margaretha translated his words to Mother and Gisela.
“I am assuming it is far enough away that they will need horses?” Colin asked.
“Yes.”
Looking grim but determined, Colin went on. “They should go in two groups, an hour apart. If they are asked where they are going, one group will say they are going on a picnic by the stream. The other group will say they are going for a ride, or to visit . . . someone, and will return in a few hours. Make up a likely story. By nightfall Claybrook will probably realize they have escaped him, but by then it will be too late.”
Mother and Gisela agreed, while Kirstyn tried to comfort and reassure Adela.
“In the meantime,” Colin went on, “you and I will alert your father’s guards to what Claybrook is planning, and find one of them to take a message to your father. But we must be careful.” Colin pinned her with his blue eyes. “Some of the duke’s guards may not be loyal to your father anymore. Claybrook may have bribed them or otherwise won them over to his side.”
Margaretha nodded. She was surprised she felt no fear, only excited energy surging through her. It was good to have a plan of action, and Colin seemed to know what to do.
When they were ready, Margaretha embraced first Gisela, then Kirstyn and Adela, kissing their cheeks. Her mother hugged her, then looked into her eyes. “I will be praying for you. You will not be afraid, but you will do whatever you have to do to stay safe.” Her look was fierce, even with tears in her eyes.
“I love you, Mother. God will keep us safe.”
She and Colin hurried away down the stairs.
Chapter
12
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Lord Claybrook entered the Great Hall only a few feet in front of them. She shrank back, instinctively throwing her arm back as though to hide Colin, who flattened himself against the stone wall. Lord Claybrook walked confidently through the doorway, never glancing in their direction.
Margaretha sat down on the steps, placing her hand over her heart. It vibrated against her hand, so hard was it pounding. “He nearly saw us.”
“If he sees you,” Colin whispered, “do not act as if anything is amiss. But if he sees me, our plan is ruined.” He grabbed her upper arms, forcing her to look at him. “You must help me find a few loyal guards, men you are certain would never betray your family. Then you will need to go to Claybrook in the Great Hall. Since he asked your mother to tell you to meet him there, he will become suspicious if you don’t show up.”
Margaretha’s heart fluttered. He seemed so wise and capable, his hands warm and reassuring as they gripped her arms. Thanks be to God that he was here, helping her.
“Will you come with me?” she whispered.
“Yes, but you must lead the way.”
He let go and she hurried to leave the castle by a back door. Colin followed just behind her to the gate.
When they arrived at the gate house, a guard was there, but Margaretha did not know him. With him was one of Lord Claybrook’s guards, wearing the blue and gold of Lord Claybrook’s uncle. Margaretha smiled at them, hoping she didn’t look suspicious. A glance behind her showed Colin hanging his head, no doubt trying to hide his face.
Margaretha turned back toward the castle, and when she did, she saw more of Claybrook’s guards near the stable. Were they trying to keep track of who was coming and going?
She clasped her hands and bit her lip as she walked, keeping to the back side of the castle so as not to be visible to Claybrook from the windows of the Great Hall. God, have you truly entrusted me, a girl who has never faced danger of any kind, to help save Hagenheim? To place such a responsibility on me, when I never imagined I would need to do anything like this . . .
“Do you know where you’re going?” Colin whispered behind her.
Margaretha kept walking as she turned her head to answer. “Of course. I know every foot of t
hese — oh.” She ran into something . . . or someone.
“Careful, Lady Margaretha. You should look where you’re going.”
She took hold of his massive arm. “Bezilo.” He was as loyal as any of her father’s guards. She would wager her life on it. “We must speak with you, Bezilo, but we need to go where no one will hear us. Please come with me.” They were near the flower garden, which was behind the castle, sheltered partially by trees. She led the two men through the short iron gate and motioned them to follow her to the shade of a low-hanging mulberry tree.
Once they were under the relative seclusion of the thick leaves and branches, she told Bezilo in a hushed voice, “We are in danger. Lord Claybrook is trying to take over Hagenheim.”
Bezilo’s eyes went wide. “I knew it. I never trusted that foolish looking foreigner.”
“Well, my friend — for indeed, I consider you my friend and one of my father’s most trusted guards — this man here is also a foreigner, from England, and if not for him, we would not have known of Lord Claybrook’s treachery.”
Bezilo turned to Colin and nodded.
“We don’t have much time,” Margaretha went on without translating for Colin. “I need you to get a message to my father as soon as possible. We need to let him know that Claybrook is plotting with his uncle to take over Hagenheim and kill my father and Valten. But I’m not sure where Father is.”
“Duke Wilhelm and Lord Hamlin were checking out some reports of brigands to the north. I shall find them, don’t worry.”
“What did he say?” Colin asked, tapping her arm. “Translate for me.”
“Just a minute,” Margaretha told Colin, barely glancing away from the guard. “How will you leave without Claybrook’s men seeing you? His guards are milling about the stable.”
“I can leave the castle gate on foot and get a horse from town.”
“They’re watching the castle gate as well.”
“I’ll say I’m going to see my sister who sells vegetables in the Marktplatz.”
The Princess Spy Page 8