Within seconds the darkness is total. It envelops me, oppressive, bleak, and very, very cold. I stretch out my hands beside me and find I can touch the walls on either side, just with the tips of my finger. The tunnel is narrow, and was clearly not designed for the mass exodus it has achieved this day. I shudder as I imagine the claustrophobic effect of this tiny space filled with bodies, people panicking, running for their lives. It would require but one among their number to trip and that unfortunate soul would be crushed by the feet of those behind. At least now there is only me.
I inch forward, my eyes trained on the blackness ahead. Although becoming accustomed to the lack of light I can pick out nothing, not even the vaguest of outlines. I listen too, my ears cocked for any sign of pursuit, or of life ahead of me. I could even now meet with some straggler seeking refuge beyond the castle.
There is nothing. I shuffle onward, cocooned in my own tiny world, a world of silence and absolute darkness. I’m startled when my right hand is suddenly clawing on thin air. I have lost my contact with the tunnel wall and I am grasping at empty space. A side tunnel? Please, God, no. I could so easily become lost in here, never to be found.
I stand still, fighting back panic as I stretch my arms out in all directions. The fingertips of my left hand are still touching the cold, damp earth of the tunnel wall, but there is nothing to my right. I shuffle forward. My right hand straight out in front of me, and soon meet with the clammy wall dead ahead. A bend in the tunnel, then. This implies a greater distance to travel, but is less worrisome than the prospect of negotiating my way, blind, through a network of passages. I will my heart to stop its frantic thumping and turn to face the onward path.
A few yards farther on I encounter another deviation to my route, this time a sharp bend to the left. I make the turn and inch forward. I am horribly conscious of the mass of earth surrounding me, I feel entombed, buried alive. My heart is pounding again, my breath laboured. The air in here is fetid, yet bitterly cold. The surface beneath my feet feels to be on a slight incline and I imagine I could be descending right into the bowels of the earth. I pause, concentrate on drawing in deep, even breaths. I must not lose my composure now, though panic is only just below the surface.
My right foot slips on a wet patch of clay and I almost stumble. There is no way to know where I am putting my feet, so I press on with even more caution. At this rate it will take me hours to reach the castle, but it cannot be helped. To turn back is even more unthinkable.
By now my absence may well have been discovered. Has the duke been informed? Is he even now commanding his men to give chase across the countryside? I have lost track of time, cocooned in this dark and silent catacomb, my only sensation that of intense cold. I cannot even tuck my frozen fingers into the folds of my cloak as I need to extend them to feel my way along the dank walls.
I shiver, gritting my teeth to keep them from chattering, and continue on.
I hear something. A faint scratching, somewhere in the murk ahead of me. Rats? I shudder but press on.
The sound reaches me again, closer, and louder. Heavier. Something a good bit larger than a rat is sharing this tunnel with me. Perhaps some tardy soul is even now making his escape.
“Hello? Is someone there?” I call out into the velvet darkness and wait for the answering voice.
Silence.
I try again. “Is anyone there? Show yourself.”
I remain still and quiet, listening intently. I pick up a soft sound, a footfall perhaps, but of one who has no wish to encounter anyone else in this dark domain. My companion is close, very close. I sense him. Moments later, I hear his breathing.
“It is safe, I am not with the imperial forces. Please, show yourself.”
I advance another cautious step, and another, my hands searching the gloom in front for something, someone. Anything.
A whisper, the merest breath of air. He is here, beside me, inches away yet still choosing to remain concealed. I turn to my right, still searching. I am seized and hurled bodily against the opposite wall. The breath leaves my lungs in a rush and I gasp, in shock, in terror.
The next moment he is upon me, hauling me to my feet only to plant a vicious blow to my ribs. I am sure my assailant is a male, though his larger, heavier bulk the only evidence I have to go on. I sag against the damp rock at my back, at the same time bringing my knees up in some sort of defence.
The only saving grace is that if I am unable to see him, he cannot see me either and he has now expended his advantage of surprise. I succeed in connecting my kneecap to his groin. He lets out a growl of pain, crumpling to the ground.
“Bitch! Fucking whore.”
He is writhing, wriggling at my feet. I can hear him, his fingers are clawing at my ankle, trying to drag me to the ground also.
I cannot see him. But I know that voice.
Eberhard!
“You!” I am beset by an overwhelming fury at this man who has brought such catastrophe on us all and even now skulks in the earth, seeking to escape whilst the rest of us suffer for his actions. I drag my foot free and aim a kick at him, not entirely in self-defence.
“I’ll fucking kill you, bitch…” Eberhard continues to grope around my feet, trying to secure a decent hold on me. I have the advantage, at least for now, of being the one standing and I manage to extricate myself from his clutches again. This time I take a precautionary step back, out of his reach.
“Bastard. You ran to save your own miserable hide. The princess has surrendered the castle, and herself, to the emperor’s forces while you, you slither in the earth like the worm you are.”
I astonish myself at the difference even a day has made to my attitude. I was as intimidated by Lord Eberhard as everyone else, but no more. Now my overriding reaction to him is contempt. Bitter, scathing contempt.
The impact of my lucky blow is fast dissipating. Eberhard is starting to breathe more easily, and it is only a matter of a few moments now before he gets to his feet and is upon me again. I may not be so fortunate in my retaliation next time. I turn and run, hoping I can keep ahead of him. And that I have chosen the correct direction to make my escape, for in truth I have no idea which way I am facing and whether I am now heading for the exit, or deeper into the tunnel. I can but hope Eberhard is equally confused.
After but a few feet I crash headlong into the tunnel wall. I crunch my forehead into the stone, but I am driven by pure terror and ignore my injury. I scramble along the damp rock face, grabbing at any handhold to retain my balance. I offer up prayers that I might elude Eberhard, and so far the lord appears to be on my side.
I pause, listening. I hear his footsteps, but they are faint. And becoming fainter. He is moving in the opposite direction. I must assume that the snivelling coward has opted to save his own skin rather than chase me. I heave a long sigh of relief, convinced that he will not get far. If Eberhard is able to find his way out into the forest he will be surrounded by the imperial armies. I cannot imagine he will elude them for long, and when he is captured, surely then the truth will emerge and Susanna will be released.
I hope so. Oh, I do hope so. Meanwhile, I have my own pressing concerns to attend to. I re-gather my wits, wait a few moments to allow my heartbeat to slow and my breathing to settle, and then I push forward again.
My progress is slower than before because my head is throbbing and my ribs ache where I took the punch from Eberhard. Heavy bruising I expect, if not a cracked rib or two. I lift my fingers to explore the lump on my forehead and they come away sticky with blood. Far from reassuring the children with my presence among them, I am likely to terrify the poor creatures.
Perhaps I should go back, seek out the duke, and beg his mercy. I should tell him of Eberhard’s flight. Would that be my most constructive course now?
Contemplating my best options I step forward, onto nothing. I stumble, my knees buckling as I desperately try to keep my footing on the slithery clay. It is to no avail, and I fall headlong to the floor of the tun
nel, my right ankle twisting under me. I scream as the wrenching pain shoots up my leg. Shocked and stunned I lie still, willing my heart to steady again, and the agony in my ankle to abate even a little. My heart does eventually oblige me, but my ankle has its own ideas and continues to throb, the pain relentless.
I shuffle around onto my bottom and draw up my knees. I pull my cloak around me in a vain attempt to ward off the piercing chill now working its way through to my very bones. I cannot remain here long, I must keep moving, however slowly. I brace my left leg under me and try to push myself up, leaning against the wall. I succeed, after a fashion, and manage to prop myself against the side of the tunnel. From there my progress is a series of awkward hops, and the outcome is inevitable. It is not many yards farther before I am again rolling on the ground, this time with scraped hands to show for my efforts.
Sobbing now, I manage to get to my feet once more, or should that be foot? My progress is almost imperceptible. I am numb with cold, dizzy now from the blow to my head, near paralysed by fear, virtually immobilised by my injured ankle, and my hands are so cold I cannot feel them, let alone the route forward. I am not going to make it to the castle, and with gnawing dread I face the fact that I am too far into the tunnel to be able to make my own way out again. And even if I could, what then? No one is likely to find me in the woods.
I sink to my knees, defeated. With enormous effort I drag myself against the tunnel wall and there I curl up into a tiny ball. This miserable place will be my grave.
Chapter Four
“What the fuck do you mean? Gone? How can she be gone? I told you to take care of her.” I glare at Karl, unable to comprehend that he has let this happen.
“Aye, my lord. You did. You never told me to guard her though. I didn’t think she was a prisoner. In fact, I did ask you…”
“Well, of course she was a fucking prisoner. We just ransacked the bloody castle.”
“You introduced her to me as the next duchess of Richtenholst, my lord. I had assumed this to be a station to which she might aspire with a degree of enthusiasm, not one she would flee from at the first opportunity.”
I stride past him, enraged yet more by Gerhard’s relaxed chuckle at my rear.
“Do not let me detain you, Stefan. I can see you have pressing matters clamouring for your attention. Please offer my compliments to your bride. If you can find her.”
I manage—just—to refrain from suggesting my commander commit a most unsavoury act upon his unsuspecting hunting hound. His compliments indeed. I’ll offer the lovely Lady Natalia my riding crop against her delicate buttocks when I get my hands on the ungrateful wench.
Karl falls into step beside me. He has no trouble keeping up despite my punishing pace as I stalk back in the direction of my now abandoned tent.
“Are you sure she’s gone? Might she just be seeking a private spot to…”
“She is gone, sir. Sliced a hole in the back of the tent and slithered away across the open countryside. I have men following her trail.”
I turn to gape at him. “She had a knife?”
“Aye, my lord. I gave it to her. For her food.”
“God’s bones, give me strength. You armed her? You actually gave her the weapon?”
“As I think I have already mentioned, my lord, you did not make her position in your tent entirely clear to me. I had no reason to mistrust her. And to the best of my knowledge she has not attacked anyone with the implement.”
I reply with an inarticulate grunt and head off again to check my tent for myself, though I have no real cause to believe Karl has somehow overlooked the lady. His sanguine reaction to my displeasure does nothing to lighten my mood, not least as the man is right, as he so often is. I have no inclination to acknowledge that truth right now however. Gaining my destination I fling back the tent flap and march in. I glance around, taking in the remains of my lady’s meal still strewn across my table top, and the slight indentation on my bed to suggest she may have taken her rest there before embarking on this latest madness.
What was the little fool thinking? That she could trot unhindered around a battlefield? Make her pretty, mincing way among our rough and ready troops and attract no unwelcome attention? Surely today’s events would have disabused her of any such notion. I instructed her to remain in my tent because I knew she would be safe there. Surely she understood that, if nothing else.
The fluttering of the loose canvas on the far wall tells its own story, the flap of material showing exactly where my reluctant duchess made her exit.
“I looked in on her. She was lying on the bed, and she appeared to be sleeping. She had eaten the food I brought for her. I had no wish to disturb the lady further so I left her to her rest. I was right outside though and I did not leave. She must have seen me and known she would not be getting past this way.” Karl has pursued me inside and is now stationed by the door, his arms folded across his chest. “You should have told me how things stood between you. Had I known, I would have taken better care of our duchess.”
Our duchess indeed. I stalk back past my unrepentant servant and pace around the outside of my tent to survey the damage from there. The path taken by Lady Natalia is clearly defined, heading across the meadow toward a small wood. Several of our men can be seen entering the stand of trees in pursuit. I will join them in a moment. First I wish to make a closer inspection of her escape route. The grass is flattened in a solid trail rather than sporting the separate indentations that would be made by a person’s feet. I ponder that for a few moments before arriving at the most likely conclusion.
“She crawled through the grass to make sure she was not seen.” Crafty little minx. Determined, too. I have much to address with Lady Natalia, when I finally have her back under my protection once more.
Karl nods. “I arrived at the same conclusion. She is on foot so she cannot have got too far. She was fast asleep on your bed less than an hour ago.”
“Or pretending to be.” I growl my retort.
Karl shrugs. He does not wait for my instruction before starting off in the direction of the trees. He takes a few paces then turns to me, his expression puzzled. “But why would she come in this direction? Why would she not head away from the castle if she was so bent on escape? Surely she did not intend to attempt to hide out in yonder copse.”
I believe I can explain that, at least in part. “She’s trying to get back into Hohenzollern.”
“What? Why would she do that? And how…?”
“I don’t know why, but as for the how… There are several underground passages, escape routes leading from the castle in several directions. We’ve been finding them and blocking them up for most of the day but still a great many of the castle’s occupants got away through those catacombs below ground. It’s my guess Lady Natalia has some notion of traversing the route in reverse.”
“But, how will she find the entrance to one of these tunnels out here?”
“Perhaps she knows where it is. We observed dozens of people streaming from these woods when the castle first fell to us. Our mission was to capture the princess, and as we had her we allowed the rest to flee if they chose to. There must have been an exit somewhere in the trees.”
“But, if the tunnels are all blocked now…”
“Exactly. She’ll become trapped in there, unless she can find her own way out again.” I know my expression is grim as I contemplate the likely outcome if we do not find her soon.
From the expression on his face I can see Karl shares my concern. “I do not imagine she will. It must be pitch black in there. And cold enough to freeze the balls off Lucifer himself.”
Quite. I turn to face our camp again and spot a couple of men loitering by a cask of ale. I cup my mouth in my hands intending to shout them over, but settle instead for a piercing whistle. It lacks gravitas, but is more effective. Both leap to startled attention.
“You two. I need torches. Gather as many as you can find and follow me. Be quick about it.” I holler m
y instructions across the intervening distance.
The men rush off to obey my command. At a run now, Karl and I head into the trees.
We find the entrance to the tunnel easily enough, the path to it etched into the earth by the many pairs of feet that have tramped through the wood this day. It is impossible to discern Natalia’s specific tracks in the battered, muddy earth, but I’m near enough certain she will have gone that way. Nothing else makes any sense at all.
The entrance is narrow, marked by two upright pillars of roughly hewn stone. Inside it is every bit as dark as Karl suggested, and deathly quiet. No sound of female footsteps, nor even cries for help.
I lean between the stones and call her name. There is no response. Nothing. I try again, louder this time but can still evoke no answering cry. I fall back on my whistle, sure that sound will penetrate through the underground passages. She must have heard that, if she’s in there. And she has to be in there. Why does she not answer?
The sound of running feet in the woodland surrounding us announces the arrival of our torches. Karl and I take one apiece, light them, and without further ado squeeze through the portal stones.
The tunnel is only just wide enough for us to walk two abreast. I can manage to stand upright, but Karl is several inches taller than I am so has to stoop. The smoke from our torches creates a choking atmosphere. We will not be able to remain in here for long.
I lead the way, Karl behind me. We make good speed, but we have light. I have to assume Natalia did not. The chill in here is already penetrating my thick leather tunic, and despite the warmth from our torches this place is deathly cold.
Did Natalia possess warm clothing? I have to confess I do not recall, though I doubt it. Had she thought to do so she could have taken a heavy cloak from my chest in the tent, but when I glanced around my quarters nothing seemed to have been disturbed.
The Conquered Brides Collection Page 24