“Of course.”
“These are our friends, Song Lark and Ransom.”
“Hello,” she greeted with a small smile and a nod.
“There is one thing, though. You can’t escape wearing that dress.”
“Why not?”
“The way you have to hide, no ladies’ clothes would do, and with that long train in your skirt, Song Lark would be bound to trip over it. Do you have anything we could borrow, Alf?”
“Give me a moment,” he said, kneeling at the large chest at the end of his bed.
“Song Lark, give me a hand,” said Ransom, stripping back the bed.
“What on earth are you doing?” asked Song Lark as he watched Ransom unwind the coil of strong silk rope they had hidden about his waist and began tying the sheets to it.
“Exactly what you think I am doing—now give me a hand.”
Christina had paled at Annabeth’s words.
“Anna, I can’t wear his clothes!”
“Well, you won’t get out of here alive wearing that,” she said, pointing to the dress.
“I can’t do it. I won’t,” she whispered.
“If his clothes are a problem, would you rather wear mine?”
The girl blushed modestly. “I—I’d rather just...”
“It’s not an option, Christina.”
“I think I would feel more comfortable in something you have worn rather than his, and he is so much bigger than either of us. I do believe you are just a little taller than me.”
“I am sure it is the case,” said Annabeth, looking up slightly at Christina.
“Here, Anna,” said the prince, handing her an armful of clothes.
In a moment, the rope was strung across the room and the chamber was segregated. Ransom changed into princely attire while Alf finished his monk disguise. Quickly, Annabeth set to work, and in few minutes, when they said they were ready, Christina appeared, blushing, shy, and awkward in Annabeth’s boy attire.
“Song Lark, start hiding her, I’ll be out in a moment,” Annabeth commanded from behind the curtain.
She appeared a few moments later, looking like a boy with a great ambition of growing very tall, very soon. Ransom couldn’t help a smile, but immediately took down the rope and freed the sheets from it. The monks were now ready to leave.
Annabeth caught Prince Alfred’s sleeve just as they were about to ask for dismissal. “Remember you have taken a vow of silence. Do not betray it.”
He nodded his head, and she slipped into the corner as they knocked for dismissal.
The moment they were gone, Ransom was securing the rope to the bed post. They waited. They had to give them time to get away in case they were caught going down the wall.
Quietly, Annabeth put the rooms to rights, then picked up Christina’s dress. The fabric was soft and cool to her touch. She bit her lower lip in wishful thinking.
“You’d be pretty in a dress like that, Beth,” Ransom said softly.
Annabeth felt her cheek flush as she realized he had been watching her every move intently, his arms resting confidently on his hips. He looked commanding in the prince’s clothing.
“Who gave you permission to call me Beth?” she accused, trying to find fault with him somewhere.
He smiled and almost swaggered towards her, pursing his mouth.
“Nobody,” he admitted.
Then he looked down into her eyes.
“Do you mind it? Or would you rather I called you Anna?”
“I don’t mind it, I guess. Anna is rather a childish pet name they have for me,” she said, walking to the window and looking down.
“Oh, no,” she moaned with disappointed anguish.
“What?”
“I should have known he would be paranoid enough to fill the moat. What are we going to do? I can’t swim.”
“No fear. You can climb down the rope?”
She nodded. “I wouldn’t be up here if I couldn’t.”
“You are going to go down first, and hold on to the castle wall when you get down there. When I come, you will lay back and I will tow you to the far shore. All right?”
“Are you sure?”
“I am not leaving you up here to face that man’s wrath.” He tore part of the sheet, put it around Annabeth’s waist, and tied it to the end of the rope.
“There. Now, you first just in case we get caught.”
Nimbly she climbed out the window and scaled down the stone wall. As her feet touched the water in the moat, she shuddered and slowly lowered herself into it. Finding a hold in the wall with one hand, she tried to undo the knot so Ransom could pull it up again. But there was no untangling it. A moment later, the rope became taut as he scaled down.
A cry of surprise and rage came from the wall, an arrow shot from a bow, fraying the rope above their head. It quickly began to unravel, threatening to snap and send Ransom plunging into the water.
Annabeth began to pray.
Oh, God, keep us all safe and unharmed.
Before the rope could fail, he lowered himself into the water beside her.
“I can’t get this knot undone,” she whispered frantically.
“It’s not supposed to come undone,” he answered, taking his dagger from his belt. Ransom swam behind her, putting an arm over her shoulder, across her body to her waist.
“When I cut the rope, you just need to relax and breathe. I am going to pull you across.”
She nodded and in a moment she was completely wet as he severed the rope. Annabeth tried to lie perfectly still as Ransom pulled her across the moat and onto the bank.
Arrows surrounded them like hail.
Once they reached shallow water, they were on their feet. They ran onto the bank and slipped into some undergrowth.
“Now for the dangerous part—running out in the open. You ready?” he asked, panting.
“Ready,” Annabeth replied. Her eyes lit with enthusiasm.
They made a mad dash for the forest a good hundred yards away, where they had hidden their horses.
Arrows whizzed by them, tearing at them, barely missing.
Suddenly, Annabeth laughed, threw back her head, and started running harder.
They looked back at the castle. In the far off distance, they could see a horse cart ricketing its way into the forest. They had waited long enough. Once in the forest, there were horses. They’d be off in a moment. Mounting, they swiftly headed deep into the forest at a gallop.
Ransom watched as Annabeth rode low and close to the neck of her horse. She could not wait to be gone from this place.
In a short while, their trail was being hotly pursued by men from Raburn’s castle. Arrows were darting into the forest, barely missing them as they sunk into trees and whizzed by them at a hair’s breadth.
Suddenly Annabeth found herself flying over her horse’s neck as he floundered into a deep hare hole. She screamed as he fell to the ground. Her mind swooned as the world seemed to dance wildly around her.
Annabeth was raising herself to her feet as Ransom came back to her. With no time for ceremony, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her before him in the saddle.
In a moment they were making up for lost ground.
The chase was long, and before it ended the horse was white with sweat, but Raburn’s men were nowhere in sight.
Ransom pulled the horse to a walk and slid to the ground, taking the bridle.
“The poor creature needs a break.”
Annabeth made a move to get to the ground.
His hand stayed her.
“You’ve had a nasty fall, and until I know how you are I’m not letting you move.”
“Can I breathe?”
“I suppose I can allow that,” Ransom sighed, not seeming to hear her attempt at humor.
Annabeth fell into silence, watching with care for any sound or movement that would mean they were being followed. Long after dark, they settled down for camp without a fire. Ransom turned to help Annabeth down from th
e saddle, but she slipped down before he could even offer both his hands.
“How are you feeling?” Ransom asked with a slight disapproving frown.
“Well enough,” Annabeth answered with a sigh; she didn’t want to be bothered.
His hand touched her side. Surprised at the sudden pain his gentle touch caused her, she winced.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Just a little.”
“How is your wound?”
The tenderness in his voice made her head feel like it was spinning.
“Well enough. I have been tending to it, just the fall...I think it bruised me there.”
His eyes searched hers.
“You’d tell me if it was worse?”
“I think so.” Suddenly Annabeth didn’t feel as if she even knew her own mind. Something in his eyes confused her.
RANSOM LET HER SLIP past him and sink wearily to the ground.
“That went well,” she sighed.
Ransom couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t imagine what your definition of bad is.”
Annabeth giggled at the prospect, then sobered.
“I think that would have been having Lord Raburn walking in and arresting all of us. He would have been so happy; all of his troubles would have been over in one fell swoop: Song Lark, you, Alf, and me. Christina would have been an unfortunate witness that would have been added to the casualty list, and my father. Then it would all have been over for him. I just hope they are all right.”
“They had enough horses once they were out of sight to get away with all speed.”
“Christina has never been out of castle walls. I just hope she doesn’t mind roughing it, and in boy’s clothes, nonetheless.”
“I am sure she’ll find some way to manage.”
“I hope so,” Annabeth sighed and, laying down, closed her eyes, pulling the cloak fully around her.
“Those clothes you gave me were for the prince, weren’t they?”
“Hmm?” she said, opening her eyes wearily.
“The clothes you gave me before we went to meet with Song Lark. You said I should look like a farmer. You had those laid aside for the prince, didn’t you?”
“What would make you think that?”
“These fit the same way those do.”
“That’s good to know,” Annabeth said dryly, and rolled over.
“You aren’t going to answer my question, are you?”
“I don’t think it needs answering,” she replied shortly.
“Good night, Annabeth,” he said, pulling his cloak about him and falling wearily to the ground, murmuring in his mind. “Only a few hours...a few hours.”
Suddenly, Annabeth’s quiet voice broke the stillness as she turned to face him.
“They were for the prince, but it makes no matter.”
Ransom caught her eyes. They were quiet, tired, and something else he could not discern.
“Your father’s going to be all right,” he whispered confidently, feeling that it was so.
“Good night,” she whispered, and turned over once again.
Chapter 13
Before dawn could stretch its first rays into the sky, Ransom and Annabeth were once again traveling.
Annabeth still rode in front of Ransom as they kept up a fast pace, but neither spoke—there was too much at stake. As the afternoon grew late, Ransom grew restless and broke the silence.
“Why did you laugh yesterday?”
“When?”
“When you were running.”
Annabeth grew silent for a long moment before she spoke. “I never thought I could run from such a place. Once you are in, you are there forever, but for the first time, I was running away and knew that he had no hold on me. I knew that I could get away. Thank you for coming back for me when my horse fell.”
“Why would I do otherwise?”
Annabeth shrugged off the question.
Suddenly, his arms tightened around her. “I would never do anything else.”
She blushed uncomfortably, and their ride continued in silence.
Just as the sun was setting, they approached the crossroads where they were supposed to meet. The sound of familiar voices met their ears. All were well and waiting.
“Anna!” squealed Christina.
In a moment, Annabeth had slipped from underneath Ransom’s arm and onto the ground, where she met Christina’s headlong embrace.
“Don’t the pair of you make a funny looking lot,” laughed the prince.
Annabeth laughed and Christina tried not to look offended.
“You’d look funny in a dress, if you had to wear one,” retorted Christina, holding her chin up high.
Annabeth looked at the prince’s strong six-foot figure and held back a laugh.
The prince, however, came to his own defense. “They’d have to find one to fit me first, and I don’t think it would be a bit flattering.”
They all laughed except Christina; Ransom kindly changed the subject.
“Well, standing here talking will only get us caught, so I suggest we get a move on.”
Both girls looked gratefully at him and Annabeth came back to his side to mount again.
“Where is your horse, Annabeth?” asked Song Lark.
“He went down two days ago in a hare’s hole when we were running, and Ransom came back for me,” she answered softly.
“Your horse must be weary from carrying both of you. Anna, why don’t you ride behind me? I’d take Christina but she is mad at me. Aren’t you, Christina?” asked Alf.
Christina didn’t deem it necessary to reply.
“Song Lark, will you be so kind to help me up?” she asked, turning to him, her mouth held in a prim manner.
Song Lark laughed and offered her his hand, sliding his foot from his stirrup.
Annabeth looked up at Ransom, asking for his opinion. He nodded her forward and a moment later Alf was by her side offering her his hand. Taking it, she leapt up behind him. The prince took the lead with Song Lark following, leaving Ransom to bring up the rear.
As the sky grew darker, the stars came out, and the moon rose, Song Lark ran his fingers over his lute, humming a few lines of a new refrain he was making up in his mind.
Ransom watched as the music slowly relaxed Christina. Her head came to rest on Song Lark’s shoulder, her body became limp, her breathing rhythmic and deep as she fell asleep. His eyes passed Song Lark to Prince Alfred and Annabeth. They were silent, and Annabeth seemed more interested in the dark silhouette of passing trees than anything else. When the moon began to set in the sky, they searched for a place to make camp.
THE NEXT MORNING, ANNABETH dragged her eyes open. That was the one thing she hated about living on the run—late nights and early mornings. Stretching, she felt the chill of the early morning gnaw at her stiff and weary body; her back ached from the hard ground. Reluctantly, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. Looking to her right, she noticed that Christina was still out to the world, her entire body limp with weariness. Song Lark was seated against a tree, his eyes still firmly shut, while Alf was building a fire.
“Alf, where is Ransom?”
“He went fishing,” he answered with a nod toward the river. “Now go back to sleep.”
“Can’t; I am too cold.”
“Come get warm by the fire, then.”
Annabeth came to the fire, still wrapped in her cloak, and held her hands out over the ambitious orange and yellow flames as they began to grow.
In a little while, Christina joined them, cold having awakened her. In a few minutes she had fallen asleep again—exhausted, her head resting on Annabeth’s cloak.
The wood popped restlessly; the logs shifted. She looked up to see Prince Alfred looking at her across the fire.
“What?” she asked.
“Why haven’t you asked me?”
“I guess I am scared of what you will say, and sometimes not knowing is...”
He nodded. “Better than knowing.
It leaves you to imagine the worst and best possible, without being tied to the facts.”
Annabeth nodded and looked down at the fire.
“I’ve seen him; he’s holding his own, Annabeth.” Prince Alfred came to her side and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “He is holding his own very bravely, despite Lord Raburn and his torture,” he said in a quiet voice.
Annabeth bit her lower lip hard.
“You knew that would happen, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “It’s just so difficult to hear it...” She sighed.
“Actually said?”
She nodded.
“But you know Raburn. He does everything in style and likes even his enemies to live as long as possible. He has been treated well, if you can call living in a dungeon that. But he hasn’t laid his hand against him for the last two months. Your father wouldn’t budge, and he knows it is useless to try and make him. I told him about everything you are doing out here, and he is proud of you, Annabeth. Prouder than a peacock. His daughter is thwarting one of the most powerful men this country has ever known, and every day that you are free is a day he lives free in his soul.”
“Oh, Alf.” Annabeth laid her head against his shoulder.
“It’s going to come out right in the end, Anna. Everything will come right; don’t cry now,” he said, pressing a brotherly kiss to her temple.
“Thank you, Alf.”
“Thank you, Anna. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
Annabeth only smiled and sighed, resting her chin against her closely drawn knee. Alf reached for another stick to lay on the fire and glanced over his shoulder.
“Hello, Ransom. You are back soon.”
“Fishing was good,” he said, holding up the catch he had already cleaned.
In a few minutes the three of them were roasting fish over the fire.
When the food was ready, they awoke Lady Christina, then Song Lark, and they all feasted.
“You certainly know how to roast good fish,” commented Song Lark to Ransom as his last piece disappeared.
“By the way, Song Lark, where are the rest of the supplies that were supposed to be in your saddlebags? I couldn’t find them this morning,” said Ransom.
“Oh, that,” pulled out Song Lark with a long breath.
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