There was nothing for Colin to do but wait — and pray the gaoler intended to bring the priest back with him.
Margaretha wandered about the room, peeking at the guard every so often out of the corner of her eye. Gradually, she made her way to the silver candlesticks stored on a small shelf near the windows facing the courtyard. With her back to the guard, and Anne still clinging to her arm, she fingered a small but heavy candlestick just before lifting it and stuffing it into her voluminous sleeve, where she had a hidden pocket.
Anne’s eyes widened. She let go of Margaretha’s arm. In a burst of familial loyalty and generosity, Margaretha whispered, “If you wish to get out of here, you’d better stay close to me.”
Her eyes still enormous and round, Anne took hold of Margaretha’s arm again — her left arm, thankfully, since she needed her right hand free.
Margaretha wandered back toward the guard, who only occasionally turned his eyes on Margaretha and Anne. He even yawned just before he perceived her coming toward him.
“You look like an understanding person,” she began. “As you can see, my cousin and I are not dangerous. If you could only allow us a few minutes in the garderobe, we would be so grateful.” She smiled up at him.
“I am not to allow you out of my sight.” His eyes and voice were hard. He was obviously unmoved by her smile.
She switched tactics. “If you do not allow us a few minutes in the garderobe, I’m afraid you will have a mess on your hands that you will not enjoy explaining to the other soldiers in your ranks, nor the servants who will be forced to clean it up.” Margaretha placed her hand on her hip, raised her brows, and frowned up at him.
Anne’s face turned slightly green and she put her hand over her mouth. Was she really about to heave her stomach’s contents onto the floor? Whether she was or only looked like she might, it was the perfect complement to Margaretha’s insinuations.
“Come, then,” the guard ordered, his voice louder than necessary as he glared down at them.
Margaretha scurried through the door, Anne sticking close to her side, with a second guard following behind. Margaretha headed straight for the garderobe and glanced behind her as she and Anne dashed into the dim, small space designed to allow the ladies of the castle to relieve themselves.
Margaretha whispered to Anne, “You aren’t sick, are you?”
“Only terrified.” Anne looked at Margaretha as if she was a lunatic. “What are you planning to do? These guards mean to kill us. It’s just like what happened at Witten Schloss to my mother’s cousins. Their castle was taken over by the Earl of Hildesbaden and they were murdered, run through before they even knew they were in danger.”
Anne’s voice grew shrill. “I don’t want to die.” Her eyes filled with tears as she clung all the harder to Margaretha’s arm.
“Stop it, Anne,” Margaretha whispered. “You must listen to me. We shall get through this and nothing bad shall happen to us.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t know how I know, I just know.” Margaretha grabbed Anne by her elbows. “Now do as I say and everything will come out right. We will use the garderobe. When we leave, I will hit the guards over the head with this candlestick. I know of a secret escape route out of the castle. We can go for help.” She didn’t tell Anne that they would have to go through the dungeon to fetch Colin. Anne wouldn’t like that at all.
Anne let go of Margaretha’s arm, and they both took care of their needs rather quickly. Even so, the guard called, “Hurry up in there or I’ll come in after you.”
“No need,” Margaretha called back. Anne had caught hold of her left arm again as Margaretha slipped the heavy candlestick out of her sleeve and held it behind her back while they emerged out into the corridor. The guard looked them over. He seemed satisfied with their appearance and turned toward the Great Hall. The second guard waited a little farther down the corridor. He was distracted by a pretty maid walking by — Britta, who was probably on her way to the kitchen. Margaretha stepped forward, every nerve under her skin leaping, and raised the silver candlestick. With all the force she could muster, she struck the back of the guard’s head.
Britta happened to glance in her direction just as the guard fell. The shock on her face would no doubt alert the second guard, so Margaretha ran forward just as the second guard was turning toward her.
He grabbed the hilt of his sword and began drawing it from its scabbard. Margaretha struck him across the side of his head before he could get the tip of his sword free. He fell to the stone floor, his sword clattering down beside him, and didn’t move.
No time to check if they’re still breathing. She dashed down the corridor, tucking her candlestick in her sleeve again.
Britta’s eyes were almost as round as her open mouth.
“Follow me!” Margaretha called to Britta in a loud whisper over her shoulder. Without waiting to see if Britta would follow, Margaretha headed to the dungeon. Her hands shook, but a sense of power surged through her limbs. She felt as if she could save them all.
“If you get me killed,” Anne said in a shaky voice, “I shall come back and haunt you, Margaretha. I shall not rest until I’ve driven you mad.”
Margaretha stifled a rather hysterical laugh. No time to argue with her cousin as she flew down the uneven stone steps into the darkness.
The gaoler had left one torch burning somewhere up the steps. The light was barely enough for Colin to make out the rats that scurried by the far wall. The smell of smoke, mold, and human excrement was almost like a tangible thing, closing in on him in the dark.
The light grew brighter and he heard footsteps, quick and soft, not at all like the gaoler’s heavy footfalls.
He stood up, making his chains rattle, as three young women appeared, hurrying down the steps.
Lady Margaretha led the two others. She smiled when she saw him. No one had ever looked more beautiful or been a more welcome sight. Her eyes flashed with a wildness that matched the tone of her voice, for of course, she was talking. Most of it was in English, although she occasionally slipped into German.
“Colin, we have come to rescue you before we escape. I’ve knocked out Lord Claybrook’s two guards who were watching Anne and me, and this is Britta, a maid who was in the corridor. Do you think we have time to go get my family? Claybrook might catch us, though, and we must — ”
“I don’t know half of what you’re saying, but if you have the key to my irons, I will be very grateful.” He shook his chains to make sure she understood.
Before she could answer, Lady Margaretha and her two companions turned at the sound of voices and more footsteps.
“Wer ist da?” the gaoler’s voice called as he and the priest came into view.
Margaretha turned and spoke to the gaoler and the priest coming down the dungeon steps. Colin wasn’t sure what she told him, but the gaoler looked at her as if she had just told him to go kiss a toad.
Colin suspected Margaretha was demanding that the gaoler let Colin go, and the gaoler was arguing with her. The priest, who turned to Colin with a surprised look on his face, began to relay what they were saying.
As Margaretha spoke, the priest translated, “I am sorry to tell you this, but it is Lord Claybrook and his guards who are dangerous. This man came here to warn us to be on our guard against Claybrook, who intends to kill him — and to kill my father, Duke Wilhelm. You must not listen to what Lord Claybrook’s guards tell you.”
“Ach du meine Güte,” the priest said, whatever that meant. He crossed himself, lifting the large cross around his neck and kissing it.
The gaoler only muttered and shook his head before lifting the keys that were dangling around his wrist and sorting through them. He stepped toward Colin and began unlocking his irons.
“We must escape,” Margaretha said to Colin while the gaoler loosed him from his chains, “and find help. I don’t know if any of our men got through to warn Father, but we must find him. If he is near enough, he can prevent the Earl of
Keiterhafen’s men from getting into Hagenheim tonight and defeat Claybrook before morning.”
The timeframe didn’t seem likely, but he refrained from telling her that. “We must secure some weapons.”
“I have the candlestick I used to knock out the two guards, but I don’t know where we might get swords or knives.”
“We should also try to get some money, in case we have a longer than expected journey ahead of us. We may need to go to your father’s allies for help. Who is his strongest ally?”
“My mother’s family, the Godehards of Marienberg. My cousin, Duke Theodemar, will help us if we can get word to them. We can get there in a few days, if we have good horses.”
Anne asked something, and her voice sounded peevish. The young maid with the yellow-blonde hair and round blue eyes stood near the wall, still clutching her arms around herself and shivering, even though it was not very cold. Anne frowned indignantly.
“Attaining horses could be a problem, since the stable is guarded by Claybrook’s men.”
“If we have to walk, it will take a week at least.”
He wasn’t sure Duke Wilhelm and Lord Valten would survive a week.
“I have money in my chamber, which we will obtain before we leave. I hope it is enough.”
The priest had begun to translate their conversation to the gaoler, Anne, and Britta.
“Father Anselm, would you go up to my bedchamber and get a purse out of the small trunk beside my bed?” Margaretha asked. “It’s the trunk with the painted vines and flowers on it, and the purse is a simple brown leather pouch.”
The priest nodded and turned to go up the steps.
The gaoler said something in his gruff voice and started up the stone steps behind the priest.
“Where is he going?” Colin asked.
“Back to his post. He will tell us if he sees Lord Claybrook’s men coming this way.” Margaretha’s face was a vibrant contrast to the young maid, who looked terrified, and Anne, who looked angry and irritable. Margaretha’s eyes were wide and animated, and she spoke in a lively voice. “I can’t believe I knocked out two men and escaped. I hope I didn’t kill them or permanently injure them. But we have to think about what we will need to bring with us on our trip. Besides money and weapons, we should take some warm clothing and some food, in case we need to avoid entering the villages. I still can hardly believe Lord Claybrook would be foolish enough to try to take over Hagenheim. I hope my little sisters are not too frightened by all this. Adela can cry for hours when she’s sad or afraid.”
Not only had she spied on Claybrook and discovered his plot, but she had escaped from two of his guards. Margaretha, whom he had accused of being a flibbertigibbet and thought of as the pampered daughter of a duke, who talked on and on when she was excited. He never would have believed it.
His mind went back to what she had said earlier and he interrupted her chatter. “You knocked out Claybrook’s guards with a candlestick?”
“Not just one, but two guards.” Margaretha smiled as if she had just won a jousting tournament. She pulled a silver candlestick from her sleeve and held it up.
He had to admit, “I am impressed, Lady Margaretha.”
She smiled and seemed to be blushing, although it was hard to tell in the dark dungeon. “I rather enjoyed it. I only hope neither of them were seriously injured.”
He had no such hope as he rubbed his wrists where the irons had chafed his skin. They waited for the priest to return, and while Margaretha seemed to be trying to comfort her cousin and the maid in their native tongue, he began thinking of a plan to escape from the castle. How many doors led out of the castle? Wouldn’t they all be guarded? It would take a miracle to get out without Claybrook’s guards seeing them.
Margaretha turned back to Colin and said in English, “We will save my mother and sisters and brothers and bring them with us, won’t we? Claybrook has stopped them from leaving as we had planned earlier. Please. We must take them with us.”
Her face was very near his in the dim torchlight of the dungeon. He was struck with the beauty of her delicate features in the mellow light of the torches.
Dwelling on Margaretha’s beauty at a time like this? He blinked to clear his thoughts. “I don’t want to discourage you, but I think it unlikely that we will be able to get your mother and siblings away from Claybrook’s guards.”
Would she be logical and accept his reasoning?
“May we not at least try?” Margaretha seemed to be pleading with him with those deep brown eyes of hers.
He found himself saying, “We can try, but if they are guarded, you must accept that, having no weapons — besides your candlestick — we will not be able to overcome the guards and take your family with us.”
“But if there is only one, or even two guards, I am sure you and I can defeat that many.”
“If there are only one or two, or even three, and if they do not see us . . . I will consider the attempt. But remember, Margaretha.” He stepped even closer to her, touching her shoulder to make her listen. “We must escape in order to get help for everyone, including your father. We must escape.” He emphasized the words.
“I know you are right. Thank you for at least considering the attempt. Perhaps God will make a way.”
“But before we go to find your family . . .” He looked at the two other people around them. The maid’s eyes were wide in her pale face as she huddled against the wall, looking on. Margaretha’s cousin stood with her hands in fists drawn up to her nose, as if to stifle the smell of the dank dungeon. “We have to make a plan of how to escape the castle.”
“Oh, that is easy.” Her eyes brightened again. “Here in the dungeon there is a secret tunnel.”
“In the dungeon?”
“Another entrance to the tunnel is hidden in the castle yard, but it is near the castle gate and we couldn’t get there without being seen. Besides, what better place to hide a secret entrance to a tunnel than the dungeon? No one would ever look for it there, and the dungeon prisoners could never find it because they are bound by chains. I think it a most genius idea of my father’s, although the actual tunnel idea was my uncle, Lord Rupert’s.”
“That’s my father,” Anne chirped.
The existence of a secret tunnel that led out of the castle was the best news he’d heard . . . ever.
Footsteps sounded above and the gaoler called in a hushed voice, “Father Anselm.” The priest returned with Margaretha’s purse. She tied it to her belt.
Colin grabbed her hand. “Let us go. Tell the others to stay here. We will try to free your mother and family and return.” Colin started up the steps.
Chapter
15
Margaretha hurriedly translated his words for Anne and Britta as she followed Colin up.
Britta’s face appeared frozen in terror, while Anne looked as if she was biting through a horseshoe, but Margaretha couldn’t worry about them now. As Colin had said, they must escape, and she didn’t want to leave her family behind.
When they reached the top of the dungeon steps, the gaoler said he hadn’t seen any guards. They continued on, with Colin holding her hand behind him. He looked around every corner before moving forward and allowing her to follow.
They started up the castle steps toward the family’s solar. Margaretha’s heart thudded in her ears, making it harder to listen for any trace of a guard’s footfall or voice. She moved her own feet as silently as possible, treading lightly, moving deliberately. Colin’s steps were quieter than a baby’s sigh as he led her up the narrow, steep stairs. The feel of his hand around hers invigorated her. Together, she was certain they could overcome a couple of guards who had less to lose than they did.
They crept slower as voices became audible above them. They were muted, but blessedly feminine. She thought she recognized her mother’s.
Colin strained forward, then jerked back, plastering himself against the wall of the stairwell. His eyes met hers as he placed his finger to his
lips.
“Let me — ” Margaretha had begun to say, Let me go up first, but Colin pressed his fingers against her mouth and shook his head.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her ear. “Guards, four feet away.”
His breath caressed her ear. Margaretha tried to ignore the warm shiver that swept through her. She mouthed, “How many?”
He held up four fingers.
“May I see?”
Colin looked reluctant, but he finally nodded. He traded places with her, stepping down while she stepped up, their shoulders brushing in the tight space. He had nice hair, the way it curled so thickly but smoothly over his head and on the back of his neck. She might tell him if she was able to talk. But perhaps it was better he didn’t know she had noticed such a thing.
She carefully stretched forward, peeking around the curve of the staircase. Finally, she saw Claybrook’s guards standing outside the door. Their backs were to her, and she could only see two, so she leaned farther forward and saw the legs of two more.
Even Margaretha wasn’t optimistic enough to believe that the two of them could defeat four trained, heavily armed guards. Perhaps if they enlisted the aid of the gaoler and the priest . . . But she couldn’t imagine Father Anselm doing anything violent, and the gaoler was old and might not even be willing. No, she had to trust that she would be able to get help and come back and save them. Besides, she didn’t think Claybrook would harm her family. He had no reason to kill them, and the king and the rest of the nobility of the land would look quite unfavorably on such a thing.
She’d felt so much hope when they had started up the steps. Now her heart was like a huge stone in her chest as she followed Colin back down.
Colin looked carefully before going around any corners, and soon they were back in the dungeon without having encountered anyone along the way.
Anne clasped Margaretha’s arm again. “Get me out of this rat-infested hole. I will not stay here another minute.”
“With God’s help, we will be out of here soon.” Maybe then Anne could lose that frustrated, fearful tone in her voice that was dancing on Margaretha’s nerves.
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