by Jody Hedlund
I stepped to the stove and with a towel moved the boiling water off the heat. “Will you finish making Sister Margaret a cup of tea? I promised I would deliver it—”
“Maribel,” Colette said sharply. “There are more important things to do right now than make tea for Sister Margaret.”
Our daily routine of prayer interspersed with work rarely varied. To have potential intruders and be sent into hiding would have been excitement enough. But now, with Sister Katherine as a visitor, we didn’t know what to expect or do next. Why had she come? What news did she bear? Were we in danger? The questions had rolled through my mind as I mulled over her appearance.
“Stop stalling, Maribel,” Colette said. “And go at once, or you will get us both in trouble.”
As trouble was something I seemed to have a knack for even though I didn’t like it, I hastened across the room and followed Colette into the main tunnel. Quiet had descended once again upon the convent, and we walked with slow, muted steps as we’d been taught to do.
We passed the refectory with its trestle tables and benches, which Wade had hewn many years ago when we’d first arrived. The scent of boiled hare came from the kitchen, Sheba’s recent gift to us. Though the meat would likely be tough, Sister Ingrid was an excellent cook and would use the onion, parsnip, and carrots that remained from our autumn harvest to give the meal some flavor. Even if it was simple fare, we’d eat it gratefully, for there were many times in recent years when our low rations had left our stomachs grumbling from want.
The chapel, too, was vacant, although our afternoon prayer hour of None approached, and we would all soon file into our places.
Beyond the chapel, we turned the corner into a dark passageway that led to several workshops, including the forge, the laundry, and the looms where Colette worked with two other nuns weaving the cloth used to make all our garments, towels, and bedding.
After another bend in the tunnel, we stopped outside the closed door of the abbess’s office, and Colette knocked lightly. Without a word, the door opened. The sconces on the walls and a candle on the abbess’s writing table illuminated the abbess as she stood at the door. She had clearly been waiting for my arrival.
The abbess was a kindly but plain woman. Like all the other nuns at Highland Convent, she wore the traditional gray habit, tied around the waist with a leather belt. Over the tunic she’d donned a scapula and a chain with a rugged wooden cross upon it. Her head was covered with a tight-fitting veil and a wimple that surrounded all but the circle of her face.
I bowed and moved to kiss her hand as was our custom, but before I could do so, she instead bowed to me.
Colette’s startled intake of breath from the passageway echoed my own surprise at the strange reception.
The abbess finally lifted her head and studied my face as if seeing me for the first time. Behind her, Sister Katherine sat upon a bench, her hunched back to us. “The Princess Maribel?” she murmured.
I took a quick step backward and bumped into Colette. Princess Maribel? What was she talking about?
“Yes,” replied the abbess, still looking at me with a strange awe that unsettled me. “This is she.”
Sister Katherine didn’t move. “Please forgive me for not standing, Your Highness. I fear my legs have given out for the day.”
Your Highness? I exchanged a glance with Colette, one that silently pleaded with her to explain what was going on. She shook her head, her wide eyes revealing a confusion that matched my own.
“You must forgive me as well, Sister Katherine,” I said. “But I am not a princess. I am a simple physician’s assistant.”
“If you are the infant Sister Agnes cared for and raised, then you are indeed a princess of Mercia, the daughter of King Francis and Queen Dierdal.” Sister Katherine’s voice was soft and somewhat raspy, but her words came across all too clear.
“Sister Agnes never made mention of any such identity. You must have me confused with another child.”
“It will be easy enough to prove,” Sister Katherine said, still unmoved from where she sat on the bench. “Reverend Mother, send for Sister Agnes’s personal possessions and have them brought to me.”
The abbess gave orders for Colette to go to the chapel and to retrieve a small locked chest there. After Colette was gone, Sister Katherine spoke again. “May I see you, Your Highness?”
I looked to the abbess for permission. She nodded and motioned me toward the old nun.
As I stepped around Sister Katherine and stood in front of her, she lifted her head and removed the hood of her cloak. At the sight that met me, compassion surged within my chest. The whispered rumors were true. The nun had been sorely abused. Her scalp and face were torn and burned. She was missing one eye and many teeth. She’d lost fingers, and the few remaining stubs were uneven. I didn’t need to see beneath her robes to know the rest of her body was probably in the same condition, if not worse.
This woman had indeed endured much, had likely been pushed to the brink of death many times, but never killed. Why? What had she done to suffer this way?
As she stared at me with her one eye, it filled with tears that spilled over and began to streak her cheek. “It is you,” she whispered through trembling lips. “God be praised.”
How could Sister Katherine know who I was simply by looking at me?
“The resemblance to your mother and sister is very strong,” she said, answering my unspoken question. “You have their pale hair and blue eyes and beautiful features.”
“My sister?” I could hardly get the words past the constriction in my throat. But now that Sister Katherine had spoken, I had to know everything.
“Queen Constance,” she replied. “She’s also taken the name Adelaide, given to her by the Langley family who took her in and raised her. Thus, most are calling her Queen Adelaide Constance. She’s in Norland with her new husband. She’s made an alliance with King Draybane of Norland, and they are amassing an army and preparing to invade Mercia.”
My heart gave a tiny shiver of anticipation. So the rumors Wade had brought back from the outside world were true. The rightful queen of Mercia had come forward and was making plans to take the throne away from King Ethelwulf.
“However, the queen won’t be able to defeat the forces of evil without the help of an ancient treasure.”
I’d heard of the treasure during history lessons. Sister Agnes hadn’t just taught me everything she knew about being a physician and surgeon. She’d also made sure I was educated in many other subjects, including history, geography, languages, physical science, and mathematics. Although I’d never harbored a fondness for those other areas of study, she’d been adamant I be as learned as possible.
Now I knew why.
“Sister Agnes told me tales about an ancient treasure, King Solomon’s treasure, that it is buried somewhere on the Great Isle. She said it was brought here during ancient times for safekeeping against the invading barbarians.”
“Yes, the treasure is greater than we can fathom.”
Sister Agnes’s stories had always fascinated me and piqued my curiosity. Many times during our childhood, I’d convinced Edmund and Colette to join me on pretend treasure hunts, exploring the caves for the fabled wealth.
“And now the queen has need of the treasure,” Sister Katherine continued in an earnest but raspy voice. “But she won’t be able to find it and defeat evil without the help of you and your twin sister, Emmeline.”
I had a twin sister? And her name was Emmeline? I reached behind me for the abbess’s writing table and grasped it to keep from sinking to the ground.
Sister Katherine’s words shouldn’t have surprised me. If I truly was one of the lost princesses, then it stood to reason I had a twin. After all, everyone knew Queen Dierdal had given birth to twin babes the night Delsworth had fallen to King Ethelwulf. No one knew for certain what had become of the girls.
At least no one but Sister Katherine.
“Emmeline,” I tested the n
ame. “Were our names changed like the queen’s?”
“We had considered it, but since we were hiding you both away from society in seclusion, we decided there was no need as your names were never formally announced and known.”
My mind reeled from the revelations. Part of me couldn’t believe I was a royal princess of the house of Mercia. But another part suspected Sister Katherine was not only telling me the truth, but that she’d risked her life over and over to keep my identity a secret.
I lowered myself to the bench next to the nun and reached for her deformed hand. At first, she attempted to pull away, but I grasped her stubby fingers within mine and squeezed them tenderly, hoping to convey that nothing about her body or appearance repelled me.
“Will you tell me everything, Sister Katherine? From the very beginning?”
For a long moment, she stared at my long, strong fingers against the jagged red stumps on her puckered hands. She stroked my fingers, and once again tears ran down her cheek. “I held you for the first time when you were less than a week old.”
Sister Katherine invited the abbess to join us as she shared my story. A young noblewoman, Lady Felicia, with the help of one of the king’s elite guards, had smuggled the newborn twins out of Delsworth castle. The guard, Lance, had led the way through a secret tunnel that ran deep under the moat. In the dead of night, they’d managed to outrun the Saracens who chased them. Eventually, they’d escaped by boat to the iron city of Everly, where they also rescued Princess Constance, who’d been evacuated to the royal residence there along with her nursemaid.
Only by the grace of God and Lance’s superior training did they manage to stay one step ahead of King Ethelwulf. He sent vicious wolves, trained by Fera Agmen, to track down the royal princesses. But Lance was a fierce warrior and managed to hold the wolves off, even after he was injured.
“They brought you to St. Cuthbert’s for hiding,” Sister Katherine said. “But once again King Ethelwulf discovered your whereabouts and sent soldiers to get you. We could see them coming from a far distance. So we made the difficult decision to split all of you up and take you to separate places for safekeeping until the time was right.”
“So Sister Agnes took me to St. Anne’s?” I asked.
Sister Katherine nodded. “Yes. That’s where I looked for you first. But of course, it has lain deserted all these many years since King Ethelwulf went on his crusade to capture as many nuns as possible.”
“I do not remember living there. I was yet a babe when Sister Agnes brought me to this convent.”
“I did not know the sisters had found refuge here in the caves,” she said, peering around the abbess’s chamber at the thick stone walls and low ceiling. “They have done well all these years keeping themselves hidden from the world. I have been in the Highlands looking for you for months, and I would probably still be searching if I had not seen the eagle lift you onto the boulder.”
“That was Sheba, a harpy eagle Edmund has trained from a hatchling.”
“Edmund?”
“Another orphan the nuns took in and kept safe these many years.”
“Then he’s been trained as a Fera Agmen?”
I had the overwhelming desire to boast about my friend, about his skills with the animals, and about all our escapades growing up together. He and Colette had been like a brother and sister to me. Without them, I would have had a lonely childhood.
Before I could formulate my thoughts regarding Edmund, the abbess spoke up. “Edmund learned his skills as a Fera Agmen from one of the older nuns who has since passed on. But his main tasks at the convent have been hunting, working in the forge, and providing protection under the guidance of Wade.”
Sister Katherine was silent for a moment as if taking in the information. “I would like to meet Edmund before I depart.”
“Of course,” said the abbess. “As soon as Colette returns with the chest, I shall send her for Edmund.”
“You have just arrived,” I said, settling my hand into Sister Katherine’s more firmly. “Surely you do not intend to leave soon.”
“I must be on my way at the break of day.”
“But you are sore and tired,” I protested. “Allow me to provide you with infusions and poultices to ease your aches and pains.”
“You are kind, Your Highness, but I must find your twin sister and so complete my mission.”
“I shall help you find her.” I sat up straighter, suddenly eager to meet my twin. Until moments ago I hadn’t known I had any family alive. Sister Agnes had only told me my parents had died during King Ethelwulf’s invasion. She’d never mentioned I had sisters or a twin. And I didn’t hold it against her. She’d known me well enough to realize such knowledge would have spurred me to try to find them, that I probably would have taken risks and caused danger to myself and the convent.
But now, the time was right. I could feel it deep inside.
“Emmeline is living in Inglewood Forest. And it will take many weeks of hiding and slow travel before I reach her.”
The thought of riding out of the Highlands and seeing new parts of Mercia made my heart thud with the same longing I’d felt earlier when speaking with Edmund about what life would be like out there. What if this was my one and only chance to travel beyond the confines of the convent before I took my vows? What if another opportunity never presented itself?
“No, Your Highness,” Sister Katherine continued. “You must withdraw from Mercia as soon as you are able and join the queen in Norland. You will not be safe here much longer.”
I had no intention of leaving the convent permanently, but a short visit to Norland to meet my older sister wouldn’t harm my plans to become a nun. Perhaps the trip would satisfy my desire to see more of the world before I returned and took my vows.
“Will the queen receive me?” I asked.
Sister Katherine smiled, revealing blank spaces where her teeth had been knocked from her mouth. Even with her missing teeth and other deformities, I could see the goodness and kindness of her spirit in her expression. “She is already searching for you, the same as I have been these past months. I have seen her men from time to time. She will rejoice to have finally found you.”
“But how shall I prove to her that I am her sister?”
“She will recognize herself in your features.”
At that moment, a knock sounded. The abbess rose, slowly walked to the door, and opened it. She spoke in hushed tones to Colette before closing the door and returning to us holding a wooden chest in her hands. Made of solid oak, it was engraved with intricate carvings and encircled with decorative leather straps.
The abbess smoothed a hand over the box. “Before her death, Sister Agnes told me to lock away two of her possessions. I put them in here.”
“The two possessions belong to Princess Maribel,” Sister Katherine responded. “She is now ready to receive them.”
The abbess unlocked the chest, lifted the flat lid, and gave me the first item—a large glossy ruby in the shape of a teardrop. I cradled it reverently in my palm, noting the dark-red tones mixed with faint hints of blue.
“It is a rare, flawless ruby,” Sister Katherine explained. “There are only six of them in the entire world, and they were embedded on the royal crown that once belonged to Queen Dierdal of Mercia.”
“Then this came from my mother’s crown?”
“Yes, upon her death, she instructed her lady-in-waiting to take two of the jewels with her—one for you and one for your twin sister. Someday, if you need to prove your legitimacy as a daughter of Queen Dierdal and King Francis, this jewel will match with the other rare originals in the crown.”
I turned the ruby over in my hand, marveling that it had once belonged to my mother and that she’d worn it in her crown. From the stories Sister Agnes had told me regarding the previous king and queen of Mercia, I’d known them to be just, merciful, and kind rulers. And for a moment, I was saddened I would never have the chance to meet them.
Nevertheless, I was too excited to dwell on the sadness, especially when the abbess removed the next item from the chest—a golden key the size of my hand, from my wrist to the length of my middle finger. It was elegant, with an oval bow and a long, thick shank. The bit on the end had a tiny symbol. I lifted it toward the light to study it. The engraving was an ancient one of healing and life: a circle containing a tree with its branches full and blossoming at the top and its roots deep and thick on the bottom.
Sister Katherine was watching my face and not the key. “It is one of three ancient keys that unlocks Solomon’s treasure.”
“If I have this,” I said, “does that mean my sisters each have one too?”
“Correct,” Sister Katherine replied. “The keeper of the keys was supposed to have the three in his or her possession at all times. However, when we separated you princesses, we split up the keys as well.”
I examined the key again, marveling at its beauty and the fact that my father had once held it, along with the great rulers before him. “Where is Solomon’s treasure? And is there any of it left? Surely the previous kings and queens have used it up by now?”
“Of course, stories and prophecies point to the treasure being brought here to the Great Isle. But due to the passing of time, no one knows exactly where it is or what’s become of it.”
“Surely there are clues leading to the treasure.”
“Many believe the keys themselves are the clues.”
The key was the clue to the treasure? I fingered the engraved symbol of the tree of life and healing. What could the picture mean? What was its secret?
“An old prophecy foretells of a young ruler filled with wisdom who will use the ancient treasure to help drive evil from the land and usher in a time of peace like never before seen or ever seen again. This is one of the reasons why you and your sisters need to be reunited. Together you will use the keys to unlock the treasure that can help restore the land.”