The Princess Spy

by Melanie Dickerson

  They couldn’t know that, at the moment, Duke Wilhelm’s own life was in danger from Lord Claybrook.

  The leader shouted something, and the other men seemed to be arguing with him. The leader shouted again. The others mumbled discontentedly and looked downcast. Then he shouted, “Laßt uns gehen!” at them, and they turned to go. They had already tied his gelding and Margaretha’s mare to their horses, and soon they were galloping off down the road with all Margaretha’s money, their horses — Lord Rupert’s horses he and Margaretha had stolen from him — and their food and few possessions they had purchased.

  Margaretha stood there, looking bereft but unharmed.

  Thank you, God. Colin felt himself leaning precariously to the right. The sun was finally coming up — but unfortunately, the world for him was quickly going dark.

  Chapter

  23

  Margaretha ran to where Colin had slumped to the ground and fell to her knees beside him. “Colin! Can you hear me? Please wake up!” She pushed him onto his back. His head was still bleeding, the blood matting up in his thick hair, and his skin was pale.

  A sob burst from her. Tears dripped onto Colin’s chest as she clutched his arms. “Don’t leave me, please!” She sobbed even harder.

  She had to stop this. She couldn’t cry, not now when Colin needed her to think and to be strong and help him.

  Wiping her face on her sleeve, she blinked the useless tears away. She leaned down and placed her ear against his chest. After a moment, “I hear it! His heart is beating.” She touched his face. “You will not die, Colin. God will not let you die.” She wasn’t sure what prompted her to say that, but it felt good.

  She needed to get some water to revive him and to wash the blood from his face. But she had no cloth and no water flask, as the thieves had taken everything.

  The stream was not too far off, just beyond the road. She scrambled to her feet and headed toward it. As she ran across the packed dirt of the rutted road, the sun, which was just coming up, glinted off something lying on the road. She stopped to look at it. Colin’s dagger. The pale light from the east was glinting off the blade. The men must have dropped it when they’d left.

  She bent and snatched it up, then ran to the stream.

  The dagger had given her an idea. She washed it off, then used it to cut a large piece of fabric from her white chemise. She dunked it in the cold water, then ran back to Colin carrying the dripping cloth.

  She sank to her knees beside him and dabbed the wet cloth on the inside of Colin’s wrists, as she had once seen Frau Lena do to someone who had fainted. Next, she held the cloth over the cut on Colin’s head and squeezed out the water into his hair. Then she wiped his forehead and his face, where the blood was already starting to dry. She dabbed at the blood on his poor swollen lip as well.

  He turned his head slightly and moaned.

  He was alive. She continued touching the cold wet cloth to his face, which seemed to be reviving him. “Colin? Can you hear me?”

  He opened his eyes only a crack. “Lady Margaretha. You aren’t hurt.”

  “No, of course not. But you are. Where is your pain?”

  “Everywhere. Mostly my head.” She touched the cold cloth to his forehead, and he put his hand over hers, holding the cloth there. “That feels good.” His eyes were closed again. “What happened? I can’t remember.”

  Oh no. After thinking he was mad before, would he have gone mad this time, from all the blows to the head? He had said her name, so he at least remembered her. Perhaps if she explained it to him, he would remember.

  “We were on our way to Marienberg to get help. Some evil men were blocking the road. They beat and kicked you and reopened the wound on your head. And I am so angry at them.” Margaretha couldn’t talk anymore, as tears choked off her voice. How dare those men hurt Colin?

  She had to block those thoughts or she would succumb to the angry tears that were damming up her eyes.

  “Thank God they didn’t kill you.” But that was no good, either. Tears flooded her eyes again at how grateful she was that he was still alive.

  “Don’t cry,” he said, and lifted his hand to her cheek. He brushed his fingers over her face.

  His touch seemed to startle the tears away. “I’m sorry. I won’t.” She stared down into his eyes. What was this strange feeling that squeezed her heart and made it hard to breathe, frightening and exhilarating at the same time? But she must think logically. This was no time for foolishness. She went back to work wiping the blood from his face.

  Colin was looking at her with a slight frown, a troubled crease between his eyes. Then he turned his head to look at his surroundings. “I don’t remember anything after we got away from the castle. It was night and there were some men in red livery . . . Claybrook’s men.”

  “That’s right. That was last night. Then this morning we got up about an hour ago and started riding. We came upon those horrible men who stole our horses.” And our food, and our money, and our blankets. But she didn’t want to overwhelm him.

  “Where did you say we were going?” He squinted up at her, as though the light was painful.

  “To Marienberg, to get help from the duke, who is my cousin.”

  “Why were we getting help?” He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow.

  “Oh dear. Colin, don’t you remember?”

  “I . . . I remember I came here to fetch Claybrook back to England.”

  “Yes, but that was weeks ago.”

  “And I remember I was trying to get to Hagenheim with my friend John, and Claybrook’s men murdered him and nearly killed me. When I woke up in Hagenheim Castle, you were there, and I found out Claybrook was at the castle.”

  “Yes. Lord Claybrook was courting me — ”

  “But you didn’t want to marry him. I remember that.” He looked at her with wide, excited eyes.

  “Yes. I mean, no, I didn’t.”

  He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, as if trying to remember something. “You were on a black horse. I thought you were about to be killed. The horse stopped and you flew off. Were you hurt? I can’t remember.”

  “No, I was not badly hurt. How does your head feel? Are you feeling pain anywhere else?”

  “I think someone kicked me in the side, but nothing feels broken. Except my head.” He lifted his hand to his forehead and touched the old wound. He winced. “My head feels broken.”

  “You just lie still.” Margaretha didn’t know what else to do. “I don’t think you should get up. You might faint. Do you remember yet that we were on our way to Marienberg?”

  He kept his eyes closed while he talked. “Marienberg does not sound familiar. But I do remember you didn’t want to marry me because you don’t want to leave your family.”

  “Well, I . . . I . . .” Margaretha felt her face grow hot. “I don’t believe anything was ever said about . . . that, but . . . it is true that I had hoped to marry someone near my family.”

  His lips parted, then his face gradually became tense. He opened his eyes and squinted up at her. “I am talking like a madman again, aren’t I? I remember now. You thought I was mad. You and everyone else at Hagenheim Castle, because I was raving about Claybrook, and no one could understand my English, except you. But even you thought I was mad. I remember now.”

  Her face seemed to be afflicted with a perpetual blush. “I am sorry about that. I should not have doubted you. You were completely justified in warning me, as it turned out. And I don’t believe you are mad now, either. You simply need to rest and your memory will come back to you.” But she wasn’t nearly as sure as she wished she was.

  He opened his eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t remember much about the last few days . . . or weeks. I’m not sure how long.”

  “Don’t worry. It will come back to you.”

  “But you and I . . . we are . . . ?” He lifted questioning brows at her.

  Margaretha wasn’t sure what he was about to say, but she was too afraid to wait for it.
“We are friends who are on our way to Marienberg. We escaped from Claybrook and his guards and Hagenheim Castle with Lady Anne, my cousin, and a maid named Britta. Do you remember that?”

  “Was I in the dungeon?”

  “Yes! You are remembering. We escaped the castle through a tunnel that went from the dungeon to a meadow outside the town wall. Then we found Bezilo, one of my father’s trusted guards, and we rescued him from two of Claybrook’s men.”

  “Did Bezilo kill them? With a sword?”

  “Yes. Britta went back to Hagenheim and we took Anne to her home, where we stole two horses.”

  “I remember this. It was good that Anne did not come with us. We stole the horses . . . What happened next?”

  Why did he think it was good Anne did not come with them? “Well, we rode the rest of that day and all the next day. Then that night we saw five of Claybrook’s men, who had decided to stop for the night in almost the same spot we had chosen.”

  “Yes, I remember that. We were in the woods and it was dark. You were holding on to my arm, and I kissed you.”

  “What?” Margaretha sat back on her heels. “No. No, that did not happen.” She felt herself blushing more furiously than ever, her breath coming fast at the thought. “I can’t imagine why you would think . . . no, you did not kiss me.” I would have remembered that.

  “Oh. No, of course not. Forgive me. Of course I didn’t . . . I wouldn’t . . .” Now he was blushing.

  He was very handsome when he blushed.

  A tragic expression of horror came over his face. “I almost let you get killed — again. Why didn’t you listen to me? I told you this trip was dangerous. Why didn’t you stay with Anne?” He closed his eyes and his face was pale. “I failed you. I cannot protect you, Margaretha. You shouldn’t have come with me.”

  “No, you did not fail me.” Margaretha touched his face, turning it toward her, and his eyes met hers. “You came back when you could have gone on and left me. You saved me.” She felt the tears welling up in her eyes again and blinked them back. “And if you hadn’t said that I was Duke Wilhelm’s daughter, they would have taken my dress. But after you said that, their leader forced them to leave me alone. You saved me, Colin, from being humiliated, losing my dress, and possibly much worse.”

  The woebegone look in his eyes faded. She must have convinced him that he had indeed saved her. He placed his hand over hers, and her heart tripped at the warmth and gentleness of his touch.

  O God, what would I have done if those robbers had killed him?

  “You must be so worried about your family,” he said. “We should start walking. We have to get to Marienberg.” He started trying to sit up.

  “Are you sure you are able to get up?” She helped him by taking hold of his shoulder and arm and pulling him. Once he was sitting, he closed his eyes again.

  “Should you lie back down? Are you in pain? You look so pale. Are you sure you won’t faint?” He swayed a bit and she steadied him. “I’m sorry. When I get nervous I talk too much and ask too many questions and don’t give the other person enough time to answer. You surely remember that. It’s my worst fault. I always say that, but the truth is, I hope that is my worst fault, but people often don’t realize what their worst fault is, so maybe it isn’t — And I’m doing it again. Forgive me.”

  “I like hearing you talk.” He opened his eyes and smiled. “It’s soothing.”

  Who was this man? No one liked her talking. It was annoying, not soothing.

  Colin’s head injury had loosened his tongue. First he seemed to know that she wouldn’t marry him and why, which she had never discussed with him, then he was saying he had kissed her, which he hadn’t, and now he was saying he liked hearing her talk. He had also said last night that her talking sounded cheerful, now that she thought about it. Could he truly think that?

  This strange conversation was making her heart leap madly. She had to stop thinking these wonderful but confusing things about Colin. She must focus on the task at hand — making sure he was well enough to travel.

  “How are you feeling? Are you dizzy?”

  “My head is spinning like a drunken man with a wooden leg.”

  Yes, re-injuring his head had done something to his inhibitions.

  “But it is better.” He blinked. “I think I can walk now. There’s a stream nearby, yes?”

  “Yes.” He was trying to get up, so she grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. He closed his eyes and swayed. She wrapped her arm about his waist, pulling his arm around her shoulders to allow him to lean on her.

  “Thank you. I’m not sure why I seem to be having trouble standing.”

  “Could it be the kicks to the head?”

  “Possibly.”

  Margaretha helped him slowly cross the road. He seemed to get stronger as they drew near the stream. She sat him down on the bank, where he lay on his stomach at the edge and drank from his hand. Then he rolled over onto his back and lay still, his eyes closed.

  His chest moved up and down and he seemed to be breathing hard.

  “Can I do anything for you? Are you all right?”

  “I am well. I’m sorry for slowing you down and for letting the horses get stolen. I know you want to get to Marienberg and send help to your family as fast as you can. I will be able to walk after I rest a moment.”

  “Don’t worry. I am tired too. We rose very early this morning. After we rest for a little while, we can be on our way again.” Without horses, without food, without money. Margaretha felt the panic rising inside her.

  No, she would not think about that. Besides, she was extremely tired, and things always seemed worse when she was tired. She would lie down near Colin, who was already asleep, she could tell by his steady breathing, and take a nap. Then they would both be better able to travel.

  Margaretha stretched out on the thick grass and pillowed her head on her arm, tears pricking her eyes at the thought of the blankets that were now gone, tears of exhaustion and the remaining emotions after the attack by the robbers. At least they were alive. She could be grateful for that.

  The soft grass actually felt good, and she felt herself drifting to sleep.

  Margaretha awoke and sat up. Where was she?

  When she saw Colin nearby, the morning’s events came back to her. She and Colin were taking a short sleep before continuing their journey — on foot, unfortunately.

  “Colin?”

  He didn’t move.

  “Colin? Can you hear me?” She kept her voice low, remembering that Claybrook’s men were not too far behind them.

  He still didn’t move. She stared at his chest. It looked still. “Oh no, please, no.” She scrambled over to him on her hands and knees and laid her ear on his chest, pressing as close as possible. She held her breath and waited. There it was. A swoosh-thump sound against her ear.

  She kept her ear there. His chest was quite warm. Hadn’t she heard that people went cold if they were dead? No, he was definitely alive, and this was quite pleasant and comfortable — her head lying on his warm chest, listening to his heartbeat. She sighed deeply.

  “Margaretha?”

  She righted herself and stared into his bright blue eyes. “I woke up and couldn’t see your chest moving and I got scared and put my ear there to try to see if I could hear your heart beating. And it was. Beating, I mean.”

  He simply stared at her, a sweet, soft look on his face. He seemed to be staring at her lips.

  “Of course it was beating. You are alive.” She laughed — a nervous sound. “But I’m talking too much again. How do you feel?” She realized she was leaning over him and moved away.

  He sat up. “Only a little dizzy. I am well.”

  “Do you remember what happened to you?”

  “Some of it seems a bit foggy. I don’t remember why my head hurts, but I remember . . . we were going to Marienberg . . . to get help to defeat Claybrook.”

  When he said the name Claybrook, his face came alive. “Let
us be off.” He stood a little shakily and looked around. “But where are the horses?”

  “Oh dear. I do believe sleep is bad for your memory.”

  “Why? No matter. We must be off. You can tell me what happened on the way.”

  “Let us go, then.”

  “Where are the horses?”

  “We don’t have them anymore. Some men lay in wait for us in the road this morning, attacked us, and stole our horses.” Must she explain this to him every time he fainted or fell asleep?

  “We will have to walk, then. I know you are anxious to get help for your family.”

  At least he remembered that much. “Are you sure you are able to walk?” He didn’t look very sturdy, and he was still pale.

  “I am able.” He looked down at her feet. “Since we’re walking, you will need better shoes. Those won’t last long on these roads.”

  “I thought of that. Perhaps at the next village I can exchange my dress for something less fine and a sturdier pair of shoes.”

  “Good idea.”

  They set out, and Margaretha prayed silently, Father God, please help us bring help before it is too late for Father, Valten, and the rest of our family. Losing the horses had set them back several days. It was a harsh blow, a painful setback, but she had to believe that they would still make it to Marienberg and back to Hagenheim in time to save everyone. In her heart, strangely, she felt peace.

  They had only been walking for a few minutes when the sound of horses’ hooves came from behind them. They leapt off the road and watched from the cover of the trees as Claybrook’s men thundered by.

  Now that they had lost their horses, Claybrook’s men would reach Marienberg before they did.

  Chapter