by Jody Hedlund
In the waning daylight, Mitchell plodded behind me, Tall John riding at his side. I’d considered urging Tall John to sneak away and return to Wellmont ruins to free Christopher. But I knew he wouldn’t get far before the knights recaptured him, likely killing him on the spot.
At times, I could feel Mitchell’s gaze boring into my back. I sensed he longed to explain himself. But I was too angry and hurt and devastated to spare him more than a passing glance.
Ahead, I caught sight of the faint wisps of smoke curling into the air, which meant we were coming upon a village. My stomach growled, a reminder I hadn’t eaten all day. The captain had sent several of his men out to hunt, but since we’d veered east to the coastal road and a more populated area, the soldiers came back empty-handed. Like so many other places, the land had been overhunted in the past year by hungry locals.
All day everywhere we traveled, I’d witnessed the overwhelming poverty of the bondsmen. Although I’d previously seen the oppression on trips with my uncle to Everly, this time I saw the hardships with new eyes. This time I saw the plight of the people through the eyes of a queen, and it only strengthened my resolve to do for Mercia what I’d done for the people of Langley and Everly. I vowed to myself that I would serve them, care for them, and sacrifice my own desires and needs for them.
When Captain Theobald broke away from the rest of us and rode ahead with a unit of soldiers, I contemplated attempting to escape. But I was still surrounded by two dozen of the country’s fittest, strongest, and biggest knights. Even though I counted myself skilled with the sword, I wouldn’t be a match against these men. I’d learned that lesson well enough during the battle our first night.
Thankfully, the knights had all treated me with the utmost respect, none daring to speak to me, much less lay a hand upon me. They never looked directly in my eyes, obeying the law that required them to avert their gazes in the presence of one more prominent than themselves.
I’d noticed Captain Theobald had no trouble making eye contact during his interactions. However, other than a few sharp commands for his men to unarm me of my weapons, he’d left me to myself most of the day.
At a flurry of shouts and screams, I sat up straighter in my saddle and peered over the shoulders and helmets of the guards in front. Ahead, the thatched roofs of a dozen or more wattle-and-daub homes came into view, simple huts much like those of the peasants who lived on Langley land. Along the waterfront, only a few dilapidated fishing boats bobbed in the waves, and I surmised that most of the men were still out at sea filling their nets with the cod, haddock, and whiting they’d sell at markets further inland.
I could see that many of the homes had enclosed gardens, which were starting to flourish with the first vegetables of the summer. After the year of drought, the vibrant greens and overflowing herb beds were a welcome sight.
The screaming and crying and shouting, however, were very unwelcome, and only grew louder the closer we drew, as did the shattering of pottery and other vessels.
“I demand to know what is happening,” I said.
The closest knight, an enormous man with arms the width of an oak, was staring ahead and frowning. So far on the journey, the guards hadn’t shown any emotion. They were trained not to display their feelings and to remain impassive and uninvolved, so the slight infraction was unusual.
“I will string up anyone else who resists,” came a shout from Captain Theobald. I caught sight of him at the center of the main thoroughfare. He had his sword pointed against something hanging from a tall post.
The guards at my front parted enough for me to see more clearly. Only then did I realize the something was a woman, and she was upside down. A rope had been strung about her ankles and looped over the pole so that her skirt and shift fell away to reveal her bare legs. In addition to the degradation of baring her body for everyone to see, red welts formed where the rope was digging into the flesh at her ankles.
I realized then the muffled screaming was coming from underneath the layer of skirts that had fallen across the woman’s face. She flailed about with her arms, but each move only caused the rope to dig deeper into her flesh.
Next to her, Captain Theobald waved his sword impatiently as his knights brought forth another woman who screamed and writhed in resistance. All around, weeping children clung to their mothers’ skirts, hampering frantic efforts to give their meager stores of food to the soldiers who were traveling from house to house. Instead of simply taking the food, the knights had begun to ransack each home, tearing apart feather mattresses, emptying chests, and smashing bins into the muddy street.
Fury rose in my chest with the force of a fire on a dry summer day. The kindling had already been smoldering, and it now exploded. As Captain Theobald commanded his soldiers to tie a rope around the ankles of the second woman, I could not stand back and watch a moment longer.
“Hand me your sword,” I said to the guard with the oak-tree arms.
His frown had disappeared, replaced by impassivity, but something dark smoldered in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Your Highness—”
“Give it to me now!” Without waiting for his permission, I kicked my horse forward, reached for his sword, and unsheathed it on my own. I expected at least a word of protest, perhaps even a small effort to prevent me from taking it. But the guard said and did nothing.
Heedless of anyone in my path, I galloped toward the center of the street to the peasant woman hanging upside down. When I rode past, I slashed at the rope holding her in place and sliced it in half, freeing her so that she dropped to the ground.
A short distance away, I circled my steed back. This time my sights focused on the knights with the cord half tied around the ankles of the other woman. I charged again, the warm moist air blowing against me, reminding me of a jousting tournament, except this time my aim wasn’t the breastplate of the knight riding toward me. It was the rope.
Before I could reach my target, the two guards dropped the twine and stumbled back, likely fearing I would slice them. In an easy motion, I looped the rope, cut it, and let it fall to the ground at the woman’s feet.
She stopped screaming and stared up at me, her eyes wild with fright. The desperation and fear there only fanned the flames in my chest into scorching walls of fire.
I reared my horse and found Captain Theobald. “What is the meaning of this?” I waved my sword toward the tortured woman and then to the destruction all around.
At my sharp question, the captain bristled, lifting his chin so the scar running the length of his face was fully visible. He seemed to be waging an inner war of whether to answer my question or drag me off my horse and string me up by my feet in the woman’s stead.
His knights had ceased their ransacking and stood mutely, watching our interaction. Mitchell and Tall John had urged their horses near mine, likely in an effort to protect me, and now watched me with trepidation. The townspeople, too, had quieted, with an occasional muffled sob still punctuating the silence.
I leveled my gaze at the captain, refusing to look away until he answered my question.
He finally dropped his head into a semblance of a bow, as though paying me homage. “Your Royal Highness, Princess Constance,” he said in a placating tone. “I would not see you or my men go hungry.”
At the captain’s declaration of who I was, whispers and murmurs passed through the crowd. Thin, haggard faces peered up at me, faces that testified of their hardships, particularly over the past year. Although the fishing industry had kept them from the same starvation-like conditions others in the land had faced, they had little enough to spare for me or the soldiers.
I lifted my chin. “I shall remain hungry rather than watch these people suffer at my expense.”
“You may not need nourishment, Your Highness,” Captain Theobald replied. “But my men must eat. Since we can find no game, it is a common practice for the people to provide for us.”
I took in the state of the guards, their heavy armor, the punishing conditi
ons under which they worked. The size of their bodies most certainly matched the size of their appetites, and I couldn’t begrudge them a meal.
From the slight smile Captain Theobald gave me, he understood my dilemma and reveled in it. We could feed the soldiers and starve the townspeople. Or we could allow the townspeople to keep their food and make the soldiers suffer. Either way, someone would be dissatisfied with me.
“Continue the confiscation of food,” the captain shouted to his men.
The guards moved more slowly to obey as if they were waiting for me to come up with a solution.
A solution?
The ancient King Solomon had prayed for wisdom, and God had bestowed it upon him. I could now understand why the king had treasured such a gift. It was difficult to rule justly and fairly.
If God offered me riches, health, and wisdom, I knew without hesitation what I would choose. Like Solomon, I’d rather have the wisdom to rule my people properly than have wealth and long life.
God, I pray that You will give Your servant a discerning heart, I silently prayed the same words King Solomon had used in ages past. I need Your wisdom to govern the people and distinguish right from wrong.
In that moment, I sensed God was pleased with my prayer, as He had been with Solomon’s. With confidence, I scanned the town, the small huts, a cooper’s shop, a blacksmith, and a warehouse for storing dried and salted fish. What would help these people survive after this destruction? And what would be fair to the hungry knights?
I patted the pouch at my side underneath my chain mail. The remainder of the jousting tournament winnings. It was still a substantial amount, even after paying the physician and giving some to the elder before leaving Langley land.
“Captain,” I called. “You may have your men continue to gather enough food for one meal and no more. And they shall do so peaceably henceforth.”
From the stiffening of Captain Theobald’s shoulders, I sensed my authority maddened him, that he’d much rather roll in the nearby pile of dung than listen to me. But I was counting upon the king’s plan to marry me to his son to protect me. The captain wouldn’t harm me in any way, knowing the king had use of me.
I dug the pouch out from beneath my layers of garments. I held the bag in my hands, relishing the weight. “You will also have your men bestow a gold coin to each person in payment for whatever you take.”
My announcement was followed by complete silence. This time no sobs, not even a sniffle could be heard. The soldiers, as well as the townspeople, stared at me in disbelief. My offer was too generous since several pieces of gold would suffice to pay the entire town for all the food.
I opened the pouch and bounced the coins, knowing most of these paupers had never seen or held real gold, that one coin alone would provide for their needs for several months.
The captain eyed my small bag. “There is no need to waste gold—”
“Captain,” I interrupted. “I am the queen, and the gold belongs to me. I shall do with it as I please.”
Again, silence fell over the gathering. I held Captain Theobald’s gaze. I’d outwitted him, and the angry glint in his eyes told me he knew it.
The guard with the oak-tree arms slid from his mount and kneeled before me. When he arose, he kept his gaze trained on the ground. Even so, I sensed the respect in his stance and expression. “Your Highness, you can trust me to fairly distribute the payment for the food.”
I’d laid his sword across my lap and now touched the hilt. He’d allowed me to take his weapon and in doing so had likely earned himself the captain’s censure if not severe discipline. What was one more act of defiance against his superior?
“Tell me your name, sir.” For his act of courage, I would see he was protected from the captain’s wrath and repaid with kindness once we reached Delsworth.
“Firmin, Your Highness.” He bowed his head again.
I handed him the bag of gold coins. “Very well, Firmin. I give you leave to pay each household for the food we must collect.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” He took the bag, set his shoulders with determination, and then strode to the closest cottage, to a gaunt woman who stood in her doorway, a child on either side of her. She cowered under Firmin’s intimidating presence and rapidly handed him a loaf of bread and a string of fish. She began to retreat but stopped when Firmin pulled a single gold coin from the pouch and held it out to her.
She reached for it but hesitated to touch it. Firmin nodded his encouragement and held it closer. Tentatively she took it.
Firmin wasted no time in moving to the next cottage, but my gaze lingered upon the gaunt woman and her intense fascination with the coin in her palm. When she finally looked at me, her eyes glistened with tears, several of which spilled over and ran down her cheeks. Gratitude and love seemed to pour out as well.
I nodded at her, hoping I silently conveyed my apologies for the trouble these men had caused her and this village.
She proceeded to lower herself to her knees, bowing her head before me in a move of respect and subservience. In that single act, she’d spoken louder than words ever could. She’d acknowledged me as her true queen.
Chapter
17
Christopher
My voice was hoarse from yelling, my palms bloody from beating them against the bars, and my fingernails ragged from prying at the crack in the door. Over the past hours, I’d tried everything to free myself from the dungeon. I’d used my torch to try and melt the metal, attempted to pick the lock, and fought to bend the bars.
Nothing had worked and eventually my torch had spluttered out. Even so, I rammed my shoulder into the bars, needing to find some way of escape. Anxiety ate away at my stomach and nearly doubled me over with pain. I had to reach Adelaide and protect her. My determination hadn’t diminished throughout the long day. In fact, the need to free her only burned hotter, like a smelter stove after the bellows had been pumped.
It didn’t matter that Theobald’s men had filled the stairwell with rocks and boulders—at least from the scraping and crashing, I gathered that’s what they’d done. I’d decided if I freed myself from the dungeon, I wouldn’t let the stones stop me from going after Adelaide. I’d roll each one out of the way with my bare hands if need be.
However, after the passing of so many hours, I suspected I was running out of time to save her. If I didn’t rescue her before Theobald reached Delsworth, I feared the torture he’d inflict upon her there. The very thought of her suffering stirred my anguish. How could I have failed her so miserably?
I’d assumed God brought us together for me to be her guide, protector, and champion. I’d believed I possessed many advantages that could successfully lead her back to the throne. Had I been wrong?
“Father in Heaven,” I prayed into the darkness. “What did I do wrong?”
Somehow, I’d allowed my guard down and hadn’t anticipated Mitchell’s treachery. I’d wanted to believe the best about him, that we could reconcile. But his love for Adelaide went deeper than I’d realized, and the kiss had been too much.
At the thought of her sweet lips pressed against mine, I groaned and buried my face into my bloodied hands. In that moment, she’d been more than just my queen, my charge, my duty. She’d simply been a woman. A very desirable woman—and not only because of how beautiful she was, although she was breathtakingly so. No, she was more desirable to me than any woman I’d ever known because of all the things I loved about her, including her strength, her need to do what was right no matter the cost, her zeal for helping the less fortunate, her depth of insight, and so much more.
Was it possible I was falling in love with Adelaide?
“Adelaide,” I whispered. “What have you done to me?”
I sagged against the bars and slid to my knees, my legs unable to hold the weight of my body. Though I’d fought valiantly against the attraction, I could no more ignore it than I could my own beating heart. I’d been as helpless to walk away from her earlier after kissin
g her as I was to thrust away this pulsing need for her now.
No doubt she felt this growing magnetism too. Why else would she have wound her arms around my neck and kissed me back? And why else afterward would she have hinted that she wanted more in a relationship with me than a queen and her knight.
Had I pushed her away too quickly? Should I have given us a chance? After all, she wasn’t queen yet. No one was dictating what she could and couldn’t do. At least not yet.
“What do You want me to do, God?” I whispered. What if Providence had planned for more in our relationship? What if He wanted us to be together as man and wife, knowing we’d be even stronger that way? Stronger than any political ties she could form in an arranged marriage?
The prospect pulsed through my blood with a rush of anticipation but just as quickly fizzled to despair.
Mitchell had handed her over to Theobald. My only hope was that somehow Ethelwulf had resolved to keep her alive—at least until he had the chance to see her and determine her worth.
“Adelaide,” I whispered into the dank air. “Stay alive. You have to survive. And I will come for you.”
I lifted my head and grabbed the rusty bars again. The torn flesh of my palms burned. But I pulled anyway. I had to find a way to free myself. Not because of the very real possibility of starving to death in the dungeons without food or water, but because I needed to reach Adelaide before it was too late.
Adelaide
The smoke of campfires and roasted venison wafted into my tent, as did the laughter of the knights standing around the fire pit. After riding all day in the rigid orderliness and silence required of the king’s elite guard, the laughter was jarring and added to my despondency.
I turned over on my pallet and pulled my coverlet around me to ward off the chill. Though the rain had ceased, the air was still damp. The darkness of the night had only made it more so.