by Jody Hedlund
Before I could formulate a truthful but nonthreatening answer, I sensed increased tension in the air. At first, I thought Sheba was flying close and communicating with me, her agitation emanating with the flap of her wings. But then I realized the new sense of fear and turmoil was lower to the ground. At a nearby yip, I reined my horse.
“What is it?” Maribel halted several feet ahead.
“Barnabas is out.” The wolf I’d raised made his home close enough that we still saw each other regularly and maintained a connection even after he’d found a mate last spring and had a litter of pups. Late in the summer, one of the pups had wandered off and had fallen into a tight ravine. Barnabas had come to me for help, and I’d been able to rescue the wayward wolf.
Ever since, I sensed Barnabas wanted to find a way to repay me for my good deed. And though I’d reassured him that I expected nothing from him, he’d watched over me more diligently lately, and tonight I felt his concern in its full force.
“How does Barnabas fare?” Maribel asked affectionately. “I pray all is well.”
I glanced around the darkened crags eager for a glimpse of the animal’s glowing eyes or his outline in the moonlight. But I saw nothing and realized he was likely staying hidden so he wouldn’t draw undue attention to himself or his family.
He yipped several high notes and then gave a low growl. He was warning me of impending danger, telling me to protect my family the same as he was doing.
I yipped back, hoping he would divulge more. But only silence and stillness greeted me, the sign Barnabas had done what he’d come to do and left.
Were we walking into a trap? Was the convent even now besieged by Ethelwulf’s guards awaiting our return? Surely not. Sheba had seen the men riding away, and I’d clearly seen the tracks heading in the direction of St. Cuthbert’s.
I slid from my mount and reached to help Maribel down. “We’ll tie the horses over beyond Eagle’s Ledge and approach the convent from the south.”
Maribel allowed me to hoist her out of her saddle and set her on the rocky ground. “Is there a problem?”
“There may be,” I whispered. “I want to take precautions just in case.”
We secured our mounts in a safe place, and then I led the way around the convent, creeping low to the ground. As we finally neared the south path, the moonlight revealed horse and boot prints in the dusting of snow that remained. They were the same tracks I’d seen earlier in the day, which meant only one thing. The band of men had come here first—likely looking for Maribel.
Was it possible they hadn’t picked up our trail but rather someone had told them where we’d gone?
I shook my head. No one but Wade knew our destination. And he’d likely informed the sisters we’d left for Norland.
When we reached a large rock a dozen paces from the entrance, I caught the movement of a shadow in the half-open doorway. I tugged Maribel down into a crouch next to me. In the stillness of the night, her breathing was too loud.
“Do you see—” she whispered before I clamped my gloved hand over her mouth.
In the darkness, I could sense more than see her eyes widening in surprise. I leaned into her ear and spoke as quietly as possible. “Be wary and silent.”
She nodded.
Slowly, I released her. Something was definitely wrong. Wade would never open the door halfway, not even a crack. And if there was a hint of danger, he would have been outside keeping guard. He’d have seen us coming long before we’d seen him and would have met me by now.
My fingers circled the handle of my knife in an automatic reflex. Behind me to the north, I sensed Sheba’s hovering tension even though she was silent.
We should have gone straight to Norland. I admonished myself as I scanned the surrounding boulders. It wasn’t too late to circle the convent, return to our horses, and be on our way. I touched Maribel’s arm and signaled that we were leaving.
Before she could protest, another motion in the doorway drew my attention. A cloaked figure slipped outside and hesitated, looking first one way and then the other. Although the darkness shrouded the person, the diminutive frame and movements gave her away.
“Colette?” Maribel whispered, surprise echoing like a thunderclap.
At the mention of her name, Colette swiveled in our direction.
What was Colette doing out at this hour of the night? I glanced around again, almost irritably. And where was Wade?
Next to me, Maribel started to rise.
I swung out my arm and stopped her, flattening her against the stone. “Stay here until I motion that you are safe to leave.”
She didn’t respond, except with increasing stiffness in her body, signaling her protest.
“Please, Maribel,” I whispered even as I focused on Colette, who took a hesitant step nearer. “Let me find out what’s going on before you come out of hiding.”
Maribel released an exasperated sigh. “’Tis only Colette.”
“I’ll talk to her first and discover all that’s transpired while we’ve been gone.”
“Very well.”
I crept out from behind the rock and sidled toward another large boulder. Once I was securely behind it, I leaned forward. “Colette. Here.”
She spun and started toward me, her footsteps rushed, almost frantic. Something was most definitely wrong.
When she swerved and almost passed me in the darkness, I snaked out an arm, caught her, and pulled her behind the rock with me.
“Oh, Edmund,” Colette whispered, her voice threaded with fear and desperation. She threw herself against me, her small body trembling. I drew her into an embrace, knowing I had to be more cautious about leading her to believe I cared beyond our friendship. But at the moment, I sensed her distress and could do nothing less than offer my comfort.
“What is amiss?” I asked. “And where’s Wade?”
She released a soft, strangled sob. “He’s dead.”
Chills skittered across my flesh.
“He tried to fight the king’s men and held them off for hours,” she said in a rushed whisper, “but his injuries made him weak.”
In a flash, I pictured Wade standing at the mouth of the cave fending away man after man, his face set like flint, his body steel, his eyes burning like fire. He would have been fierce.
A rush of sorrow pierced my chest, but now was neither the time nor place to grieve for Wade. He’d given his life to protect the convent, the sisters, and Maribel. Now the least I could do was step in and do the same, which meant I needed to clear my mind of all emotions and focus on the present so I was aware of everything at all times.
I glanced around, noting for the first time the traces of blood that remained from the battle scene. “Where are the bodies of the slain?”
“The king’s men took them away.” Her arms tightened around me, and she burrowed her face into my chest.
“Everyone else in the convent? The sisters?”
Colette hesitated, and in that instant, I was wary again. I released her so I could assess her more fully. The moonlight didn’t afford much light, but it was enough for me to see her features were taut with worry and something else. Was it guilt?
“The soldiers threatened some of the sisters,” she whispered. “But no one is seriously hurt.”
More chills raced over my skin, and my mind wanted to travel back in time to that terrible day when my entire family had been marched out of the dungeons to the center of Delsworth. Images flashed through my conscience—the threats, the torture, the gruesome bloodshed. But I rapidly slammed the door in my mind, surprised it had opened even a crack when I’d so carefully kept the memories locked up all these years.
I hadn’t wanted to remember the gentle, kind face of my mother, my two older sisters, or my two brothers. Seventeen years of shoving away every thought of them had erased their images from my mind. I could hardly picture what they looked like anymore. I only had the vague recollection that as the youngest, I’d been well loved by my sibling
s and parents alike. And I’d had a grandfather who’d been kind to me. But I didn’t like remembering him either.
The people at the convent were my family now, the only family I needed or wanted.
“You’re unharmed?” I forced myself to focus on Colette. “You weren’t threatened, were you?”
“No.” Her voice wavered just enough for me to know she wasn’t sharing the entire truth.
“Colette,” I whispered urgently, glancing around again. I had a sudden feeling of being caged. “You need to tell me everything.”
When she followed my gaze, a terrible premonition tightened my chest. It constricted even more when guilt began to radiate from her eyes and tears brimmed over.
I grasped her arms and almost shook her. “Tell me what happened.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she whispered, the tears coursing down her cheeks. “The captain was getting ready to sever Sister Ingrid’s fingers. I had to tell him what I knew. I couldn’t just stand by and watch her suffer.”
My heart dipped into my stomach. “What did you tell the captain?”
“That you and Maribel went to St. Cuthbert’s.”
“How did you know—”
“I overheard you talking in the chapel.”
I tried to absorb what she was telling me, but Sheba released a low, urgent call—one that told me I was in trouble.
“Some of the king’s men are still here, aren’t they?” My words came out hard. She started to shake her head in denial, but then slowly nodded, letting her shoulders droop in a motion of defeat.
“You betrayed Maribel and me,” I hissed.
“No, I am saving us all.” She reached out to grab my arm. “The captain promised if I cooperated, we would all remain unharmed.”
A short distance away, I heard Maribel gasp. She’d likely been listening to every word of our conversation. And now she knew we were trapped. I had no doubt the king’s men were closing in on us even as we stood in the dark.
I released two soft whistles to Sheba, praying there were no Fera Agmen among the ranks of Ethelwulf’s guard who’d be able to decipher what I’d just instructed the eagle to do.
Had the captain used Colette to bait us? Was that why she’d been waiting by the door? Waiting for our return, perhaps even for hours? At that moment, I wanted to thrust Colette away in anger. But perhaps she’d reacted again in fear. Under threats of torture, most people were helpless but to do whatever was asked of them. I couldn’t blame Colette for going along with the captain to save herself, could I?
“You know they’ll kill Maribel.”
“She will be safe,” Colette rushed, her tone growing more desperate. “The captain said the king has no plans to kill her, that he intends to marry her to his son and she will be the queen of the kingdom someday. What more could she want?”
“You know I’ll never let them have Maribel.”
Colette grasped my chest. “Why? She will never love you the way you love her. She is too caught up in her own life to think about anyone else.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I lied. “It’s my duty to protect her and see her safely to Norland.”
The skin at the back of my neck prickled. One of the king’s guards was drawing close. I whistled again, this time more urgently. Sheba answered.
“Please, Edmund.” Colette threw herself against me. “I shall love you like Maribel never can. I promise to make you happy.”
A sickening in my stomach swirled up into my throat. What if Colette had been jealous of Maribel and had willingly cooperated with the captain to turn her over? What if she hadn’t been coerced at all?
The thought was there for only a moment before it was gone. I wouldn’t think ill of Colette. Not now.
At the flap of wings, I turned to where Maribel was crouched. It was time to act. I had to do so decisively and without delay if I hoped to have any chance of survival.
“Maribel,” I whispered. “The labyrinth. Wait for me there. If I don’t come in two days, go on without me to Norland.”
Before she could reply, Sheba swooped down and plucked Maribel from the ground, lifting her into the air. In an instant, the shouts of angry warrior cries erupted around us. But Sheba flapped her powerful wings, taking Maribel higher until the blackness of night swallowed her. I didn’t wait to see where they went. I had faith the eagle would take Maribel where I’d instructed her.
Instead, I thrust Colette back toward the convent door. In the next second, I struck down the closest soldier while vaulting onto a nearby stone. From there, I leaped from boulder to familiar boulder, jumped onto an overhanging precipice, and swung up until I was out of the reach of the swords of the king’s guards.
I crouched low and assessed the situation below in one quick sweep, noting Colette was out of sight and that additional soldiers were now pouring from the convent, clearly having lain in wait for our return. In the torchlight, my gaze snagged on a face I hadn’t seen since the day I’d been discovered by Wade and smuggled out of Delsworth.
Captain Theobald. My gut clinched at the sight of the long scar that started beneath his eye and ran the length of his face down to his beard. In his black chain mail and hood, he stood stiffly, staring up in the direction I’d disappeared. Even in the dark, I sensed the coldness emanating from his soul.
Although his expression was severe, it brought back a memory I’d thought was long buried—the sadistic smile he’d given my father before slitting his stomach and pulling out his entrails.
The echo of my father’s screams of agony suddenly rang in my ears. I could hear his cries as he’d been forced to watch Theobald hang his wife and children, all while he’d been bleeding to death. Tears had streamed down his noble face as the jerking, swaying bodies had stilled into lifelessness.
Bile rose up in my throat as it had that day when I’d watched from behind the barrels. I wanted to bend over and vomit. At the same time, anger spread through my limbs like burning, melted iron.
At the moment, I didn’t have the luxury of being sick, any more than I had the luxury of thinking about the past. I had to make my escape before Theobald could rally his men and hunt for me.
Nevertheless, I peered down one last time at the captain. I hated him and would take my revenge upon him for what he did to my family. I was tempted to throw my knife and kill him in that instant. But I held myself back. When I killed Theobald, I’d do so slowly and deliberately. And I’d make sure he knew exactly who was slaughtering him and why.
The snap and whiz of an arrow registered in my mind. It was coming from my left. But the darkness hid the bolt. I only had enough time to swerve before it pierced my shoulder.
Chapter
9
Maribel
I rubbed salve into the deep talon wounds in my arms. Sheba hadn’t meant to harm me. But after the hours of carrying me, the eagle’s grip had become so unbearable I’d lost consciousness a time or two during the journey.
I suspected the flight had been as equally taxing on Sheba, because by the end of the night, she’d stopped frequently for breaks. And she’d glided low, as if she hadn’t had the strength to lift me.
At dawn, she’d deposited me at the mouth of an isolated cave deep in the Highlands and flown away. I’d immediately fallen into a weakened and weary slumber. Hours later, I’d awoken stiff and frozen, hardly able to feel my fingers and toes.
I’d worked quickly to start a fire with the flint in my medical bag and the few dry twigs I could find. Once thawed, I’d tended my bleeding arms, grateful to see abrasions and not punctures, and grateful I’d had my satchel when Sheba had plucked me from danger.
My muscles were sore, and my arm sockets felt as though they’d been pulled out of joint. But after flexing and rotating them, I knew I’d survived without any major damage.
But what about Edmund? All throughout the long flight, I’d prayed he’d escaped the clutches of the soldiers. Even though I wanted to remain optimistic, the reality of his situatio
n weighed upon me. He was one man against many. Yes, he was a skilled warrior, but how would he be able to fight them off? If the king’s men had killed Wade with his brute strength and experience, how could Edmund survive?
My heart panged with the realization Edmund was in all likelihood dead. The ache moved into my throat and brought tears to my eyes. Everything was my fault. The soldiers had come for me because I was the princess. I was responsible for putting everyone in danger. I was to blame for Wade’s death. And I was now the cause of Edmund’s peril.
In spite of the threat, I had to cling to the hope that somehow, some way, he’d been able to evade King Ethelwulf’s men and would reach me.
Leaning against the cold, smooth wall of the cave, I massaged the salve deeper into my bicep, my mind replaying the whispered conversation he’d had with Colette before Sheba had plucked me to safety.
You know I’ll never let them have Maribel, he’d said.
Why? Colette had countered almost bitterly. She will never love you the way you love her.
Exactly how did Edmund love me? Of course, we all loved each other like siblings. We’d grown up as a family. But Colette’s words seemed to indicate Edmund cared for me in a deeper way, a way that had more to do with the affection between a man and a woman.
Just thinking about that kind of love brought a rush of heat to my face. Surely Edmund wasn’t attracted to me as a woman. Surely I’d misunderstood their conversation.
But even as I tried to deny what I overheard, I couldn’t stop thinking about those strange, sizzling moments I’d recently had with him, those times when I’d caught him looking at me, especially when he’d focused on my lips as though he wanted to kiss me. Did he regard me differently now that we were older? Was that what he’d been trying to explain to me about the changing nature of our relationship?
He’d changed in how he viewed me, viewed us. But I hadn’t noticed it.