by Jody Hedlund
Even though I wasn’t yet a nun and hadn’t taken my vows, he was right. I couldn’t offer him my affection, not when it wasn’t mine to freely give.
He was studying my face, gauging my understanding of our situation. “I know how long you’ve waited and how eagerly you’ve anticipated becoming a nun. And I would not turn you from that. If you give it up, you must choose to do so of your own will and desire.”
Was he telling me if I became a nun I’d lose him? That it wasn’t possible for me to hold onto both my aspirations and him? While somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d known eventually things would have to change between us, I’d resisted the prospect and had clung to the hope he’d always be there at the convent with me, always available, always nearby.
However, such an attitude was selfish on my part. Someday, he’d want to settle down, get married, and have a family. Perhaps Colette had been correct in her assessment of me, maybe even prophetic. I shall love you like Maribel never can. I promise to make you happy.
Another woman, like Colette, could give Edmund the love he wanted and deserved. Another woman could spend her life making him happy. But God had called me to spend my life in service to Him. I’d always believed so. And I couldn’t let the passion of a few stolen kisses change the course of my plans and dreams.
As though reading my thoughts, Edmund’s eyes filled with sadness. Before I could say anything, he nodded. “I respect your choice and shall do my best to honor it henceforth. I’m only sorry I didn’t do so today.”
“You are an honorable man.” I took his hand in mine, but he immediately pulled away.
“If I am to honor you,” he said, his voice almost a growl, “then it is best we refrain from any sort of physical contact.”
At the implication of his words, heat rose into my cheeks. Did my touch affect him? “I am sorry. I did not know . . .”
He sighed. “Let us speak of it no more, Maribel.”
For a moment, I contemplated all that had happened between us, struggling to make sense of our relationship and where it would go from here. From the severity of Edmund’s expression, I guessed he was doing the same.
Although I knew I should feel more remorse for our kisses and the intimacy we’d shared, I couldn’t conjure up the proper guilt. It niggled at me, but the memory of the pleasure and sweetness of the time in his arms was something I’d never forget.
I finally smiled up at my friend, the friend who was definitely no longer a boy and most certainly was every inch a man. “I want you to know that though the moment can never be repeated, I do not regret sharing a kiss with you this once.”
As the words left my lips, I felt my cheeks flush at my brazenness. Yet certainly Edmund was used to my directness by now. He’d expect nothing less.
He gave me the ghost of a smile in return. “I’m glad you don’t regret it.”
Hearing him repeat my words, I sensed how insignificant, even insulting, they sounded. “What I meant to say is that I enjoyed kissing you immensely.”
My gaze was drawn to his lips, and I couldn’t keep myself from admiring their firmness. How had I never noticed before how handsome his mouth was? Yes, I’d always acknowledged the fact Edmund was a fair and noble-looking man. But I’d never paid close attention to his features, perhaps had simply taken them for granted.
He drew in a deep breath. “Maribel.”
I tore my attention from his lips and met his gaze. “Yes?”
“You are not making this easy on me.”
“What easy?”
“My pledge not to kiss you again.” His focus shifted to my lips, and sparks leaped to life in his eyes. In an instant, those sparks flew between us. A flame lit low in my belly. And I had the urge to close the distance and wrap my arms around him.
Perhaps this wouldn’t be easy for me either. Perhaps we’d made a mistake in awakening these feelings between us. Perhaps we should have left them dormant. I didn’t even truly understand the feelings. Whatever they were, whatever was happening, I needed to ignore it and put it behind me.
I could do that, couldn’t I? I looked away from him to the massive pile of rocks blocking the tunnel. With a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders. I had to, for both our sakes.
Chapter
14
Edmund
By the time we cleared the rubble from the path, climbed the steep slope toward the surface, and chipped away at the seal, I wasn’t sure I’d have any strength to lift the heavy stone that lay over the eastern opening of the labyrinth. Maribel had insisted on treating my wounds again, reapplying the healing ointment. Even so, they pained me more than I wanted her to know.
It also pained me to work so near to her. In the tight space, we were shoulder to shoulder. Her labored breathing brushed my cheek, and her presence filled my senses.
With both of us heaving against the stone, we finally shifted it enough that I could use a lever to pry it the rest of the way, just as I’d done when we’d entered the labyrinth. As we climbed out the narrow crack, cold darkness met us. Our torchlight revealed we were in a low cave that was more of a cleft in the rocks than a true cavern. We could kneel, but our heads brushed against the crusty ceiling.
We extinguished our light quickly so we wouldn’t draw attention from any of Theobald’s guards who might be in the vicinity, and I vetoed a fire in spite of the frigidness though I doubted our enemy would see the glimmer. From the distance we’d traveled underground to the east, my guess was that we were over a league from the western entrance where hopefully Theobald was still waiting for his guards to reappear from the labyrinth.
As it was well into the night, we curled up in the far corner of the cleft, away from the wind, and fell into an exhausted slumber.
I’d planned to sleep lightly and stay alert to danger, but when I next opened my eyes, the early gray of dawn greeted me. I held myself motionless and attempted to discern what—if anything—had awoken me.
I shifted but found my arms wound snuggly around Maribel and realized she was curled into my torso. With her back against the rock and her front shielded by my body, I hoped she’d kept warmer than I had.
Even as I regained wakefulness, I was keenly aware of her nearness. And my mind began to relive our kisses from yesterday—not one, but two. I’d floated near the brink of heaven with each of them, especially when she’d initiated the contact.
After so many months—even years—of loving her and wishing for her to return the affection, part of me was ecstatic she finally felt something for me besides friendship and brotherly consideration. It was most definitely something more. There was no other way to explain what had happened or the heat that kept flaring between us.
While I was relieved she finally knew the truth about how I felt, at the same time a knot in my stomach twisted hard with the realization our feelings didn’t matter. Nothing could ever come of them. Not when she cherished the prospect of taking her vows and becoming a nun.
I could admit that, in the heat of the moment, I’d considered making her forget about her plans. She was eager and inquisitive enough that with more kissing and tender wooing, I might have been able to win her heart and make her forsake her goals. In the short term, I’d gain the woman I loved. But at what expense? Eventually, she might regret her decision, wonder what she’d given up, and perhaps even resent me.
Though it had been hard to tear myself from her, I’d done the right thing. I loved her too much to cause her misery. No matter what the future held, I’d never stop loving her. And I’d never leave her. Perhaps I’d take the role of her personal guard now that Wade was gone. I’d live close to her, protect her, and die for her if need be, whether that was in Norland, Mercia, or the ends of the earth.
She stirred within my embrace. Wrapped together in my cloak, her face was burrowed against my chest. Although she’d plaited her hair in the dark last night to bring a semblance of order to it, the silky strands had come loose again and tantalized my chin and cheek.
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten properly in days. At the same moment, several pebbles dropped from the ledge above.
The drowsiness of my short night fell away, and I tuned in to the human footfalls and boot scuffs coming from overhead, likely surrounding our hiding place.
I tensed and inwardly berated myself for not sleeping more wakefully as Wade had attempted to train me to do. Even if my shoulder throbbed and my leg still ached, I had no excuse for putting us in danger, especially not after working so diligently to make our way through the labyrinth.
How had we been discovered? Had someone spotted our torch when we’d come up out of the maze? I glanced to my side to the stone I’d already slid back in place over the labyrinth. I’d wanted to make sure that if any of Ethelwulf’s soldiers found the eastern entrance, we’d hear them attempting to open it and could make a getaway before they discovered us.
I hadn’t counted on them finding us so soon from the outside. But perhaps Theobald had hawks scouting the hills.
Could I remove the stone from the labyrinth entrance quietly enough that we could retreat into the depths? I pictured the dark, confusing tunnels, the deadly traps, and the ravenous dragon-like creature we’d escaped only by God’s grace. Even after Maribel had removed the sliver and had tended the wound, all the creature had wanted to do was eat. While it had temporarily allowed us to flee unharmed, hunger would drive it to seek us out if we returned to its hunting grounds.
Slowly, I reached for my sword. Which was worse? To face Theobald and his soldiers? Or to chance meeting the dragon again?
Maribel released a contented sigh that would have constricted my chest if not for the danger of our predicament. She tilted back her head just enough to see my face. As she peered at me sleepily from beneath long lashes, her eyes dropped straight to my mouth and filled with hazy desire.
I enjoyed kissing you immensely. Her words from last night rang in my head along with the awareness that she was thinking of our kisses just as I had moments ago. I could count on Maribel to say exactly what she thought. She wasn’t capable of being coy or playacting. She lived out her feelings without holding back.
A puff of her breath, white in the cold air, mingled with mine. I was cognizant our circumstances were less than ideal, that if we’d been alone without our enemy camped on our doorstep, I would have had a difficult time unwinding myself from her and probably would have let our lips touch again.
In the future, I’d have to be careful to establish and keep proper boundaries between us. But for now, I had more serious problems to think about.
At another scrape of footfalls, my fingers tightened around my hilt and my pulse quickened. We didn’t have time to climb down into the labyrinth and hide. I was left with no choice but to fight our intruders.
I started to rise and push Maribel farther against the rock out of harm’s way. To my surprise, she drew me nearer, winding her arms around my neck. “Edmund.” Her whisper contained pleasure, as though she could think of no place she’d rather be than with me. Before I realized what she intended, she bent in and pressed her mouth against mine. At the same instant, a shadow fell over the opening of our hiding place.
I pushed away from Maribel, scrambled to my knees, and withdrew my sword. But I was too late. A dagger was at my throat before I could turn. It bit into my skin, piercing the first layer and causing blood to trickle down my neck.
“Stop!” Maribel cried, kneeling with her dagger extended. Her eyes were as wild as her hair. She was fully awake now, her expression panicked. When she took in the knife at my throat and the blood, her panic transformed into determination.
“Release him,” she said firmly to my captor. “It is I you seek.”
More voices came from behind us. And more shadows crowded the ledge’s opening. I considered whether I could reach my dagger and plunge it into the man’s gut before he killed me. As if sensing my next move, he wrenched my arm behind my back with one hand and disarmed me with the other. The pain of the movement tore through the wound in my shoulder, and I gritted my teeth against a wave of nausea.
“You do not need him,” Maribel said, this time with slightly more worry in her voice. “I am the Princess Maribel, and if you let him go, I shall willingly hand myself over to you.”
The pressure of the knife against my throat eased, but my captor’s grip was as unyielding as though he’d wound chains around me. Although I couldn’t see anything but his arm, it was enough to know he was a giant of a man and I wouldn’t be able to overpower him.
“Your Highness,” the man said with a measure of respect that surprised me.
“Bring them out here, Firmin,” came a command from outside—a command that sounded distinctly feminine.
The strong guard yanked me backward. And this time I couldn’t keep a cry of pain from slipping from my lips.
“He is severely injured,” Maribel called out. “Please allow him his freedom.”
But the soldier had no intention of freeing me. Instead, he dragged me from our cavern onto a level plateau that ended abruptly with the jagged edge of a steep cliff and a ravine far below.
My mind scrambled to find the place on the map of Mercia I’d memorized. I rapidly scanned the area for landmarks, for any sign of something familiar. But the barren, rocky terrain spread out before us to the horizon—mountainous crags, jagged rocks, and snowy peaks. In a month or two, the first buds of spring would bring some color back to the bleak gray. The few hardy plants that survived the high elevation and harsh climate would grow again. But for now, it was a desolate wasteland with few identifying markers.
Several other knights congregated on the plateau and stepped back as Maribel crawled from our hiding place. As she stood and straightened, she held her dagger out, her expression solemn and filled with resolve. In her other hand, she had the royal ruby, proving her to be one of the lost princesses.
My heart thudded with the need to protect her. I had to make her see that the best way she could save herself was to cooperate with our captors and cease worrying about what became of me. If she lashed out at them in my defense, I feared what they might do to her.
Before I could issue my warning, the guards all around dropped to one knee and bowed their heads before Maribel. Only then did I notice that although they were attired in black cloaks that were the style of Ethelwulf’s elite guard, these men weren’t wearing the king’s coat of arms. Instead of golden lions leaping against a black background, their badges contained golden lions standing against a ruby-colored backdrop.
It was Mercia’s emblem, one that hadn’t been allowed since Ethelwulf had taken the throne away from King Francis and Queen Dierdal. Were these rebels?
Maribel opened her mouth to speak, but at the sight of the men kneeling around her, she only stared, her eyes widening and the hand holding the dagger faltering.
“Maribel?” came a voice from above us.
Maribel pivoted at the same time I peered up.
There, on the upper ledge of the hiding place we’d just vacated, stood a woman who exuded strength and power in her bearing. She held a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, and she, too, wore a black cloak over chain mail, breeches, and long leather boots. With her hood up, her face was shadowed, but it was easy enough to tell she was young and noble.
Behind her towered a broad-shouldered man with strong features and an iron build. He was armed and wore chain mail as well, but from the proud way he held himself, I could tell he was no ordinary soldier, that he was someone important.
Surrounding them were additional knights. Farther up the mountain, I glimpsed more soldiers and horses. If they were rebels, then perhaps we had a chance of surviving.
The young noblewoman sheathed her weapons and began to hoist herself from the ledge. Two of the guards nearby rushed to her aid. She ignored their outstretched offers of help and hopped down as nimbly as a cougar. The broad-shouldered man followed behind her.
When the noblewoman cross
ed to Maribel, I stiffened. My need to stand next to Maribel and protect her swelled with such force I struggled to free myself. At my movement, my captor jerked my injured shoulder, and I nearly collapsed to my knees.
Upon reaching Maribel, she touched the ruby. Then she lifted her hood, letting it fall away. And I knew. The likeness was so evident and natural there was no doubt who this woman was.
“Maribel,” the young woman said. “I am your sister, Adelaide.”
The fight and frustration evaporated from Maribel’s face, leaving wonder in its place. At the same moment, overwhelming relief swept through me, and I almost sagged against my captor. Maribel was safe. Ethelwulf wouldn’t get her.
“It may come as a shock to learn you have a sister,” Adelaide continued, “but rest assured, you are one of the lost princesses of Mercia.”
“No. It is no shock,” Maribel replied, staring at her sister with fascination. “Sister Katherine arrived at the convent less than a week ago and brought me the news of my true family—that I have two sisters.”
Adelaide exchanged a glance with the young nobleman.
He cocked his head to the west. “Then ’tis she who has brought Theobald’s troops into the area.”
“’Tis she who has finally brought our search for Maribel to an end,” Adelaide countered.
“We are fortunate Theobald did not find Maribel first.”
“We are not so fortunate yet.” Adelaide returned her gaze to Maribel. “For he will not rest until he has her within his grasp.”
Maribel’s attention was no longer upon our fate. She was too enamored with her sister to think of anything else. I could see it in her eyes—that childish look of excitement she got when setting out on an adventure.
“Sister.” Maribel tested the word and then reached out a hand to touch the queen’s cheek. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance. You are very beautiful.”