The ground quivered. Judders shook her, and the basket tipped, spilling its contents. She dropped onto her knees, scrambling to pick up the herbs, but fell forward as the turf rippled and shifted.
Earth tremor.
She closed her eyes. “Don’t let me die today.” A thunderous growl rumbled beneath her.
Run!
She tried to stand but stooped again, for around her, like blades of grass in the wind, tall trees wavered. Several fell onto their neighbors with terrible groans. One lush evergreen missed those about it and thudded to the floor with a mighty crash.
Cora huddled into a small ball with her hands over her ears and prayed.
* * * *
Prince Randolph of Merin grasped the nearest boulder at the edge of the subterranean pool and hauled himself out of the warm water. A deep moan came from the roof above. Part of the cavern’s ceiling gave way and spewed rocks into the far side of the iridescent blue pool.
The light from the glimmering water dimmed as ripples raced over the surface. He strode across the stones to reach the bundle of his clothes. His foot slipped on a mossy patch on the rock and his back foot sank to his knee into the gap between two boulders. After three painful attempts to pull free, he paused at another low rumble near where he stood.
Stuck.
The small gravelly patch of sand and his pile of clothes slowly descended into a sink hole. Twirling like dancers, his boots disappeared last.
Each time he tried to move, a merciless weight ground hard against his flesh.
His stomach lurched as the rock beneath his front foot tilted and his precarious position grew more uncomfortable. He balanced with his leg stretched farther to keep his place on the unsteady boulder. If either of the rocks tipped much more, the impact on future generations of the royal house of Merin would be serious, for he’d be split in two.
The cold air chilled his skin.
A gentle tinkle of pebbles replaced the crashes from earlier. He breathed a sigh. The earth movement seemed over. Shivers raced down his back as he stared around in the wavering light from the water.
Trapped.
None of his attendants knew where he’d ridden this morning. Why had he been so determined to come here alone? They might take days to discover his horse tethered outside the entrance to the tunnel. That was if Starlight, poor beast, hadn’t fled or been killed by the earthquake. The palace and all those in it might well have been swallowed whole in the tremor.
He grinned. The thought of his Uncle Owen, presently guardian and protector of the kingdom, devoured by the might of the earth was enough to bring about a sense of deep pleasure. However, if Owen were still alive, he’d probably not make much effort to discover what had happened to the one person who would end his rule in four months and three days’ time.
I’ve played right into his hands. Given half a chance, Owen will make sure I’m never found.
The need to get out rose in a volcanic wave and he yelled at the top of his voice. “Help!”
The sound echoed. More pebbles fell into the pool. He shouted again.
* * * *
Cora rose to her knees. Trees, tipsy as guardsmen after a vat of ale, lay across the tops of others on each side of the glade. Creaks and groans from tortured wood hurt her ears. The birds had fled. She wished she could fly too. Her journey home would take much of what was left of the day and be far more perilous than the walk here.
She grabbed her basket, scooped up all the spilled herbs and rose. Her knees still shook, but the ground remained steady. She edged away from the forest path and moved toward the trail leading back along the Ridgeway toward her village.
She rarely used the hillside pathway for fear of robbers. However, with the other littered by fallen trees and this one looking much clearer, she’d no choice.
The raw squeals of a horse sent a shiver through her. The concern for the screeching animal drew her back toward a glade in the trees. Wild-eyed, the creature stamped and struggled against reins tethering it to a branch.
Poor thing. Who might have left it here? Only a nobleman or a robber would have such a mount. There seemed to be no one around though. She set her basket down and made comforting low sing-song noises to calm the horse as she approached. Beyond anything but fear, the animal reared screeching, and threatened her with metal shod feet.
A different sound reached her as she backed away from the horse. A cry? A word?
Yes. Someone called for help. She listened harder and tried to guess the direction. Parting the dark shrubs, she discovered the mouth of a tunnel into the spine of the Ridgeway. Another cry came again from the depths. This had to be the magic place whispered about by the villagers. A forbidden place of wonder and terror, but she must go inside.
Chapter 2
“Help!”
The yell came again and louder. Cora couldn’t leave someone to die. She strapped her basket to her back, and with her courage balled tight like her fist, took the first step out of the light and into the shadowy gape of the tunnel.
Daylight from the entrance gave her some hope. Farther down, the light dimmed to deep shadows, but perhaps she’d find the person before the darkness became complete.
“Help.”
The echoes rasped against the rocks.
“Call again,” she shouted. “I’m coming to find you.”
A succession of cries led her onward, and though she trembled to tread the path, she stepped into the most magic place in the whole kingdom. The hollow cavern with its mysterious light reflected from a steamy blue pool. She stared at the cracked ceiling and the glimmer of wavering light from the water. Across on the far side, ripples lapped a rocky shore.
Oh my!
He stood bare-assed as a babe.
She couldn’t help but look, and let out a little cry for she recognized the profile, if not the other attributes of the man.
Crown Prince Randolph. The heir to the throne of Merin stood before her in all his majesty. There was no mistaking the rolling curls of hair down to his shoulders. Every coin in the realm bore the stamp of his features. She tried to wrench her gaze away, but stole one last glance at his body, admiring the exquisite physique, muscles sculpted by years of practice at knightly arms.
Her foot slipped, making her wary as she stepped over the mossy rocks to reach him. A blaze heated her cheeks for she couldn’t close her eyes or she’d risk a fall. She yanked at the knots securing her basket as soon as she reached him, took it off and undid her shawl.
“Tread light. If the rock slips I’ll die.”
She nodded and forced her gaze down so she could only see his front foot and not the maleness of his loins or the taut muscles of his stretched thighs. “Here, sire,” she said, and handed over her shawl so he could cover himself.
“Thank you. Am I dead and don’t know? Are you the girl I see in my dreams? My heavenly messenger?”
She closed her eyes to allow him to use the wrap and to memorize the rich tones and the purity of his accent. No bumpkin burrs here. She’d do anything he commanded. Well, nearly anything. “You’re not dead yet and I don’t think I’ve been in your dreams, sire. I come from the village of Whistlewick. How can I help you?” she asked, opening her eyes.
“My ankle is caught between two rocks. You’ll need to move one to free me.”
She nodded. Though he’d tied her shawl around his waist, he still stood, thighs stretched wide as though about to run a race.
“Do you think you can do it?”
“Yes, your highness. My name is Cora.”
“Are you sure? I thought you my dream maiden.”
“I’m certain, sire.”
“Let me show you where I’m caught.” He took her hand and pushed it down the back of his thigh. “There, Cora. Can you feel it? I can reach no further but down between those rocks. Please, if you would?”
Oh yes, I will without a doubt. His chilled muscular flesh raised heat in hers and his rich chestnut brown eyes captured her in one long a
ssessing gaze.
“Don’t hurt yourself trying,” he said.
“I’m strong, sire.”
“Call me Randolph, please. Now, try to free me if you can.”
She reached down and found his ankle. Certain she knew the position of the stones, she sat atop one boulder and pushed with her feet at the other. The rock gave a little and in a blur of movement, the prince leaped away like one of the sword dancers from the northern realms. The rock rolled away into the water.
“Argh!” He hopped.
“Are you alright?” She hurried to him.
“No, the ankle is damaged. I can’t stand on it. I’m sorry, you’ll have to help me walk.”
“Of course, my prince. Do you have any clothes here?”
“Swallowed by the cave in the tremor.”
“Then you are welcome to my shawl though it won’t keep you warm. I’ll just get my basket.” She tied the basket on her back. “Lean on me.” He did, heavily, until she took much of his weight. “That’s right, sire. Off we go.”
Prince Randolph hopped along beside her out of the cavern. His chill arm around her shoulder weighed heavily and his sandalwood scented aroma filled her senses. No man in the village would smell this appealing. A sudden fear flashed. Would he notice she smelled of goats from the morning’s milking and common lavender that grew so prolific along the lanes? She sighed.
Aunt Dorethea would laugh at her if she told how wonderful the prince was, handsome enough to bewitch any girl. Best say nothing about it when she got back. The old woman would enjoy administering a hearty clout as punishment for her straying into the magic mountain. She might give a worse thrashing if Cora admitted to staring at a naked man, even if he were a prince. No matter what, she’d never tell how perfect he was. Surely she’d die with his image imprinted in her mind.
The tunnel grew lighter and a wafting breeze swept one of his glorious golden curls close to her cheek.
“Oh,” he groaned. “We must stop for a few moments. Forgive me.”
“Rest a bit, sire.” She eased him toward the floor. Crouching close, she snuck a glance at his beautiful torso. “We’re over halfway there.”
“And you’re red like an apple.” He touched her cheek with a smooth-nailed fingertip. “You should have said you found me too heavy to bear.”
She shook her head and lifted her palm to her burning cheek. “Oh no, my prince, you’re not too heavy.”
He smiled, and stole her heart. “Oh,” she whispered at the loss, even though the sweet thief didn’t know what he’d taken.
“See, you’re in pain. If not for this ankle, I’d carry you, fair Cora.”
Goosebumps rose on her skin, for his arms looked brawny strong. “No, I’m not hurt. Have you rested enough?” She wanted to get out, in case the earth might shake again and trap them in the mountain.
“Just a little longer.”
The light at the tunnel’s mouth had slid well down the rock wall. Darkness would come before she returned home. She nipped her lip.
“When we reach the castle, Cora, you will be rewarded well.”
A tinge of hurt rose. “I’d have helped anyone in danger and not wanted reward.”
“I shall create a special order of merit,” he said, as though he’d not heard her. “I shall call it the Order of Corality.”
She giggled. “Very nice, sire. Come on. If we don’t try, we won’t get back to the castle.” She edged her shoulder under his arm and let him lean on her again to rise. “That’s it,” she said, luxuriating in his touch.
Chapter 3
Cora bore up well as he leaned against her. She’d laughed at his notion of an order of merit in her name, but he’d not met another soul worthy of such honor. Shake her head as she might, he knew her. The flame-haired maiden who visited him as he slept—it was her—and today she’d fulfilled every hope he’d had since she first drifted into his dreams. This wonderful maiden deserved all he could give her when he returned to the castle.
As the tunnel lightened further, her hair gleamed. She had the prettiest hair. Smooth silky strands the same shade as bright copper pots he’d seen in the market. One of her two long plaits bounced as she helped him limp along. “Cora, did you see a horse on your way here?”
“Yes. It was terrified, wild as a bat because of the earthquake.”
“You didn’t let it go?”
“No. I was about to but heard you call. I came to find you instead.”
“For which I will be forever grateful.” She met his gaze and smiled. A sheen of perspiration coated her brow and her upper lip. A lip peachy pink and made for kisses. “Nearly there,” he said, dragging his gaze to the tunnel’s mouth. “If we find the horse then we can ride back.”
“The animal was so distressed, sire. I expect he can’t be ridden.”
He squeezed her shoulder a little. “I know horses,” he explained. No doubt she knew nothing but dray beasts and donkeys.
At last, they left the tunnel. Outside they sat in a puddle of warming sunlight. She breathed heavily after her exertions to get him here. The rhythmic rise and fall of her bosom left him spellbound. As he wore her patterned shawl, she treated him to a wondrous view of luscious half-moons of pale breasts, visible above the top band of her tight-laced blue bodice. Not one female at court had a more attractive décolletage. “How old are you, Cora?”
“Twenty, sir. The same as you.”
“How do you know I’m twenty?”
“My birthday is the same as yours, or so my aunt says, and like you, my mother died when I was born. My father, like the late king, your father, died of the plague.”
“I’m sorry.” He took her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it.
“My!” She whipped her hand away as though scalded.
“Forgive me, I meant no ill. The ways of the court are unfamiliar to you.” What a fool he was. Of course, she had no knowledge of courtly ways.
“I didn’t think anyone would ever do that,” she whispered. “Not to me.”
He stared at her and enjoyed her pert little nose, her sweet peachy lips, and when he glanced into her smoky gray eyes, her look of admiration. The court ladies looked at him with lust but their eyes never shone like hers. “Let’s go, Cora. I think it is as well we try to find the horse.”
“Yes, sire.”
He let her help him rise and forbore to explain the main reason for wanting to move was to avoid transgressing further, for he had a compulsive desire to kiss her. Flowery fragrant with a hint of woman, she shouldered his weight and helped him along. No court female could have done what she had so far this day. Surely, this maiden was matchless.
He recognized the glade where he had left Starlight, though the tilted and fallen trees showed the power of the earth tremor. The pale, lathered horse stood, head bent low, snorted as he and Cora approached and eyed him with a baleful glance.
Despite his soft words as he reached out, the gelding stirred and stamped a forefoot then reared up, squealing. He backed off, taking Cora with him. “It’s no good. We can’t ride him. Best we let him go.”
“Not yet, sire. Let’s take the saddlebag first and the saddle blanket too. It will keep you warm. Autumn nights on the Ridgeway are cold.”
Warmth rose to his cheeks. Why had he not thought of that? “Forgive me. You’re right. I’ll take the saddle off so you can get the pack.” He lurched forward and hopped to the horse.
The animal sidestepped, making it hard for him to undo the girth. His fingers fumbled and he almost fell.
“Here, my prince. You hold his head and calm him if you can, and I’ll do the straps.”
He did his best to soothe Starlight to allow her to strip off the saddle. As soon as she took the blanket, he leaned on the tree and released the horse. The gelding bolted away.
“We’ll see no more of him.”
Cora offered the blanket. “Not to worry. At least you have something warmer than my shawl. Here, your highness, I’ll turn around while yo
u put this on.”
He accepted the fabric, and as soon as she turned, removed her shawl and donned the warm blanket. He used the longer length of it to make a kilt and draped the end piece over one shoulder. It might smell of horse sweat and be all wooly prickles, but he was half decent. “You can turn around now,” he said as he checked the front folds.
“You look like a man from the north realms. It suits you. I checked the pack. It’s full of food, and there’s a flask as well.”
She put the pack down, accepted the shawl and shrugged off her basket then quickly crisscrossed and knotted the shawl tight across her front. This covered the delightful view of her bosom, as was the fashion outside the court. A great pity. “We’d best go,” he said.
“A moment, sire. There is a knife in the side pocket of the saddlebag. I can fashion you a stick. Wait here.” Cora opened the side flap of the bag, removed the knife and darted off toward the shrubs. A few minutes later she returned with a stout stave. She shaved the final side shoot from it and handed it to him. “A staff will help you.”
She was right. After a few attempts with the stick, and with her to assist him, he’d improved his speed and didn’t need to lean on her so hard. “Much better,” he said.
“Good, because the castle is a long way. We won’t get there by nightfall.”
The sun cast pink hues low in the sky. She spoke true enough. “Is there any shelter on the way down?” he asked.
“There is a place. We’re heading to it.”
Relief filled him, for he’d no wish she should be a tender offering to the wolves that hunted the forest or the rascals who robbed travelers. Injured as he was, he could do little to defend her, and Cora needed protection. Staunch and wise she might be, but after all, she was a village lass.
Chapter 4
Each time he looked her way, his lingering gaze caressed her and a shivery rush of pleasure rose on her skin. She did wish he’d stop because it would do her no good to capture more wonderful memories of this precious time with him. She’d get him back to the castle somehow, maybe late tomorrow, judging by his limping, and then she’d return to her village and offer her aunt her humble apologies for being out so long.
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