by Jody Hedlund
He broke eye contact, letting his focus drop to my lips.
The feathers fluttered again, this time faster. Why was he looking at my lips like that? Almost as if he wondered what it would be like to kiss me.
He wasn’t thinking that, was he?
My gaze flickered to his lips, and the warmth and tenderness from when he’d kissed my knuckles came rushing back. Would a kiss on my lips be as warm and tender?
Just as soon as the question entered my mind, I stiffened, aghast at such a worldly thought. I was destined to take a vow of celibacy, to remain chaste, to dedicate myself to God for the rest of my life. Thoughts of kissing were completely inappropriate for someone about to become a nun.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, looking everywhere but at his face.
“Sore,” he said quietly.
“I shall put on another paste to deaden the pain so you are able to ride more comfortably.”
I wanted to put distance between us, but his head was still resting on my lap.
He glanced toward the cave opening. Upon seeing the light of day streaming inside, he sat up—so quickly he almost fell back.
I steadied him with a hand to his upper arm, feeling the contours of his muscles and much too conscious of them.
“How long have I been asleep?” he asked.
“It is past midday.”
He dropped his forehead into his hands and gave another moan. “Maribel, we should have left hours ago.”
“I know.” I crawled to my satchel and reached for the paste I’d made earlier. “But you needed to rest in order to heal.”
“We’re in danger staying in any place overlong.” He pushed himself to his knees then stopped and sucked in a sharp breath. His face contorted with an effort to control his pain.
“Lie down and let me put the poultice on your wounds before you arise.”
Bracing against the cave wall, he rose until he was hunched but standing.
“Please, Eddie—Edmund.” I, too, stood and again placed my hand on his back, this time rubbing him gently. “Let me ease your suffering.”
He lurched forward as if my touch caused him even more pain. “I’ll be all right—in a few minutes.” He moved to the mouth of the cavern and grabbed at the rocky rim to brace himself and take the pressure off his injured leg. He whistled and a short while later was rewarded by the flap of eagle wings. Sheba was carrying a hare in her talons. She dropped it to the ground at Edmund’s feet before perching on the ledge nearby.
We’d eaten the remainder of our provisions last night, and now my empty stomach rumbled with the anticipation of a meal. Though I wanted to pick up the rabbit and begin dressing it in preparation for roasting, I stood back and waited.
Sheba’s full white head was bordered by the gray in her breast and wings. As she settled her feathers, she shifted to look at me with her black eyes. Her stare seemed to assess me in a single glance before she swiveled her head and focused on Edmund. For a few moments, the two communicated in whistles and short birdcalls.
Finally, Sheba took flight, her heavy flap pushing a waft of cold air into the cave.
Edmund didn’t turn but instead limped outside. He studied the rocky, barren landscape before spinning back to me, his expression grave. “Sheba has seen other humans in the area.”
“Who?” We never had visitors in the Highlands. First Sister Katherine and now someone else?
“Men on horseback.”
“Do we know if they are friend or foe?”
“Sheba cannot give me such specific details. Nevertheless, we should use caution. We don’t want anyone seeing us.”
A shiver ran up my spine. “Are they near?”
“I wasn’t able to figure out exactly where they are, but we need to wait now, until nightfall, before venturing out.”
I nodded. “Good. Then you will be able to rest longer.”
He limped to his cloak and picked it up. “I’m going out to scout the area and see if I can discover anything more.”
I sensed an undercurrent between us—one that had never been there previously, one I didn’t understand. Normally, I would have protested his disregard for my instructions, and the physician within me wanted to rush to him and make him lie down again. Instead, I silently watched him don his cloak and gloves and then strap on his weapons.
While he was gone, I skinned and gutted the hare and started roasting it. During the solitude, I tried to make sense of Edmund’s mood. He was clearly frustrated, and it went beyond my decision to allow him to oversleep. Did it have to do with his comment about not being a lad? Was I treating him like a child in more ways than using his childhood nickname?
Perhaps I needed to approach him with more respect, the way I did Wade. Our relationship obviously needed to mature into something different. I didn’t know what. But I did know I didn’t want to push him away, which was what I seemed to be doing.
When he returned later, his cheeks and nose were pink from the cold. I was glad for the color in his skin and also that his limp was less pronounced.
“I found hoofprints for maybe a dozen warhorses, likely Ethelwulf’s men,” he informed me. “They’ve headed away from the Highlands to the east.”
“Then we are safe and undetected?”
“For the time being.” He stood over the fire and rubbed his hands together. The seriousness of his expression and the manner in which he held himself reminded me again that my childhood friend had turned into a man and wanted to be treated as such.
I speared a piece of the roasted rabbit onto the end of my knife and handed it to him. He nodded his thanks, used his teeth to rip off a chunk, and began to eat. I stirred the fire, sparking the blaze so that it radiated more heat.
When I straightened, I decided now was as good a time as any to make amends. “Edmund, I sense I have displeased you—”
“We’ll be fine,” he said between greasy bites. “From what I can tell, Ethelwulf’s knights have picked up our scent and are tracking us to St. Cuthbert’s. They’ll search for us there and in the meantime, we’ll say a hasty good-bye to everyone and be on our way to Norland.”
“I am not speaking about our current predicament.”
He stopped chewing and lowered the knife. His gaze snapped to mine, and his eyes were dark and brooding.
“I have not recognized the changes in our relationship as a result of growing up.”
His Adam’s apple rose and fell in a hard swallow, and his eyes widened in expectation. And . . . perhaps even hope?
I plunged forward, knowing I’d been correct in my assessment. “Now that you are a man, I have not respected you the way I should. And I am heartily sorry for it.”
He waited.
“I shall endeavor to give you the esteem you are due and cease treating you like a child.”
His shoulders deflated, and he glanced down at the meat remaining on the tip of the knife. “You have no need to apologize, Maribel. Whatever confusion in our relationship is my fault and not yours.”
His answer wasn’t what I’d expected and left me more confused than before.
“You are a good friend to me,” he continued, twisting his knife around. “And I have no wish to push you away, although I fear I’m doing so already.”
I smiled at his confession. “You could never push me away. Even if you do, I shall not go far. I am too stubborn for that.”
“Quite true.” He gave me a sideways glance, one that revealed the beginning of his smile.
If I’d been next to him, I would have nudged him back playfully. As it was, my smile widened, and the weight of worry lifted off my chest. All was right between us again. And I was glad for it.
“Since we have a couple of hours until dusk, shall we take a look at the parchment I discovered in the base of the baptismal font?”
“Since I nearly sacrificed my leg for the parchment, I’d say so.” His voice contained forced cheer, and he focused on the bit of hare left on the knife and began eating again.
Perhaps not all was right, but whatever was bothering him, he would certainly work it out in his own time and way. At least I prayed so.
I untied the pouch at my side that contained the key, the ruby, and now the parchment, and I carefully pulled out the rolled-up sheet. It was no wider than my hand, but as I unraveled it, I realized that it was as long as my arm. I kneeled and spread it out on the stone floor, using two small rocks to hold it flat. Swirls of ink circled in various patterns, like an ancient piece of artwork.
“It’s a maze.” Edmund peered over my shoulder and took another bite of meat.
“A maze?” I examined the worn sheet again. Sure enough, the picture had neat lines running in connected rows, some coming to dead ends and others flowing together in a continuous path.
“But it’s only part of the maze.” He knelt next to me. “You can tell the parchment has been severed. Here.” He wiped the grease from his finger and pointed to the top long edge. The remnant had darkened with age, especially along the sides. But the top length was more jagged and frayed.
“The maze’s pattern must continue with another piece of parchment,” Edmund said. “If I had to judge from the size, I’d guess there are two other pieces to this maze.”
I attempted to digest the information that came so easily to Edmund. “Then do you think each of the three keys unlocks a part of the maze?”
“It’s possible.”
“But I thought the keys unlocked King Solomon’s treasure.”
“Perhaps they still do. If I had to speculate, I’d say the three map sections must be put back together to make a whole maze, which will then enable a person to discover the way through it. I wouldn’t be surprised if the treasure is at the end and the keys are needed to unlock it.”
I sat back on my heels and watched Edmund’s keen eyes trace the maze. He’d always been much smarter than Colette and me in our studies. What he’d figured out in an instant would have taken me hours, if I’d been able to tie the clues together at all.
“You are brilliant,” I said.
He smiled at my words of praise.
“Then all the parchments collectively form a treasure map?”
“It appears so.”
The queen has need of the treasure, Sister Katherine had said. But she won’t be able to find it and defeat evil without the help of you and your twin sister, Emmeline.
Now I understood why Queen Adelaide needed me. She not only needed my key, but she needed my piece of the treasure map.
“But a maze?” I asked. “Yes, there are likely nobility who have erected mazes in their gardens. But this is one of great magnitude.” The parchment contained hundreds of paths. “I cannot think of any place big enough, other than Inglewood Forest. Do you suppose the maze is there?”
“If it is, then it would be overgrown and nearly impossible to find.” Edmund stared at the map, his brows knit.
I forced myself to concentrate likewise. “What if there was a maze long ago, one that has since been destroyed or covered much like St. Cuthbert’s original structure?”
Edmund’s eyes sparkled. “The Labyrinth of Death. What if the map is the solution to the Labyrinth of Death?”
“I have never heard of a labyrinth in Mercia—”
“It’s in the western Highlands, deep underground.”
“How do you know?”
“How do I know most of the geography of Mercia?” he asked.
“Wade.” We said the warrior’s name at the same time and then both smiled.
“The Labyrinth of Death has become the tale of legends and myths,” Edmund continued, “but Wade taught me its location anyway, likely in the event we needed another hiding place.”
“Then you could lead us there?” I asked, sitting forward.
The excitement upon his countenance dimmed. “No, Maribel. It would do no good to make the trip. If it does exist, we will only get lost inside without the other segments of the map to guide us. That’s why it’s called the Labyrinth of Death. Because so many people wandered within its depths and were never able to find their way out.”
“But we have a partial map—”
“And there’s rumored to be a creature living in the bowels of the labyrinth—a deadly creature who captures and kills anyone who crosses its path.”
“If we could face all those spiders, we can survive one deadly creature in the labyrinth.”
“I gave Sister Katherine my word I’d take you to Norland, and that is where we must go.”
“No harm would come of passing by the labyrinth on our way. Surely ’twould not delay us overlong.”
He started to shake his head.
“We would not have to go inside,” I added. “We could simply take a look around and then hasten onward.”
He sighed, but I could see the excitement in his eyes as he studied the pattern of the maze. He was just as interested as I was in having adventures. He simply needed a nudge to fly out of the nest.
I stood. “The matter is settled. We shall discover if a labyrinth still exists. If so, such information will be valuable to relate to my sister once we arrive in Norland.”
When he didn’t protest, I smiled to myself. Edmund might be more reserved and careful than I was. But most of the time, we were of one mind and soul. I didn’t want to lose that connection—didn’t want to lose him. Yet somehow I sensed him slipping through my fingers, and no matter how hard I tried to hang on, I had the feeling I was losing him anyway.
Chapter
8
Edmund
I could sense Sheba’s fear. Her motions had become more forceful and erratic. The moonlight revealed her flying overhead in circles as I led Maribel along the hidden paths back to the convent. The eagle’s fear had been palpable since the moment she’d come to me in the hunter’s cave hours ago.
I’d hoped the further we traveled away from St. Cuthbert’s and Ethelwulf’s men, the calmer she’d grow. But her agitation had remained, making me more alert and on edge. Although the darkness of the winter night hid us well, I maintained a high level of awareness at every noise, scent, movement.
Sister Katherine had told us to leave within two days. I’d assumed we would be fairly safe until then and hadn’t covered our scent as well as I could have. But apparently, Ethelwulf’s men were closer than she’d anticipated.
Why hadn’t Sister Katherine done a better job of masking her trail? Even as frustration coursed through my veins, I guessed the old nun had likely done the best she could, but her age and frailties had likely made the travel difficult and all too easy for Ethelwulf’s men to follow no matter how well she attempted to evade them.
As usual, Maribel rode and chattered as though she hadn’t a care in the world. She was oblivious to the danger closing in on us, which was just as well. There was no need to worry her. Not when I didn’t have anything but Sheba’s fear and the earlier sighting of horse prints to give credence to my anxiety.
“Wait until Colette sees the piece of the maze we found,” Maribel was saying. “I wonder if she could recreate the other part of it for us?”
Colette was especially talented with artistry. After working at the loom most of the day, she spent her free time drawing and painting on the convent walls. She’d accomplished detailed murals of biblical scenes over the past few years. She’d even used my face for one of Noah’s sons surrounded by animals. I thought I saw myself in several of her other murals, but not quite as distinctly as the portrait of Noah’s son. At the time, I’d been flattered. But Wade’s recent comments about Colette had been nagging me.
You should just ask that poor girl to marry you and put her out of her misery. That girl would do anything you asked of her. Colette loves you already and won’t break your heart.
Had Colette’s infatuation existed all along? Maybe I’d been too blind to see it, the same way Maribel was ignorant of my feelings. I couldn’t fault Maribel for not knowing or reciprocating any more than Colette could blame me for the s
ame.
I swallowed a sigh. My desire and feelings for Maribel were getting harder to contain, especially whenever she touched me. And now she knew something was wrong, had even apologized and said she would try to be a better friend.
I had to stop reacting to her, had to stay platonic, had to mask all that I felt. Obviously, if she didn’t harbor affection for me, she couldn’t summon it forth. I certainly couldn’t for Colette.
“Is the map symmetrical?” Maribel asked. “If so, then the top would likely be a mirror image of the bottom. Surely Colette could draw it.”
“I think it would be wise for us to keep the discovery of the map a secret,” I replied. “Just between you and me. At least for now.”
“But Colette will already be peeved at me for not inviting her to come along on our trip to St. Cuthbert’s. I cannot bear to think of hurting her even further.”
“She may be insulted, but she’ll mend easily enough.” Colette had a way of pouting at the smallest slights. It annoyed me more than I cared to admit.
Colette was still debating whether to take her vows and become a nun. She hadn’t made up her mind yet the way Maribel had. Was it because she hoped I’d marry her?
I nearly coughed at the realization. Maybe I needed to speak frankly with her and let her know she shouldn’t harbor any plans of a future with me. Then she could move on and decide what she really wanted to do with her life.
Maribel blew into her hands for warmth and rubbed her mittens together. The cold was taking its toll on her, but as usual, she never complained. Thankfully, we were almost home. “Do you think we should invite Colette to journey to Norland with us? She would enjoy the adventure, would she not?”
“The journey to Norland will be fraught with many dangers. Colette will be safer at the convent, and we’ll be able to travel faster without her.”
“What kind of dangers?” Maribel’s tone seemed nonchalant, as though she was asking about the weather instead of life-threatening situations. How much should I share with her? I didn’t want to upset her with the possibility that Ethelwulf would probably do everything within his power to capture and kill her. If his men were already in the area, from here on out, we would have to travel hard and cover our trail well to avoid them.