Her voice was calming. His breathing was almost back to normal. He swallowed, ignoring the cold sweat down the middle of his back.
“Tell me about those long bands of gray and red in the wall there.” He pointed to their left.
“I don’t know what that is. Copper ore is sometimes a gold color, sometimes green, but that doesn’t look like copper. But it could certainly be something else, some other kind of valuable metal, perhaps.”
Steffan stepped closer to the wall, holding the torch high. He had seen something like this before at the university when they’d studied mining and metals.
“I think you are right. This could be iron ore—the silver bands here—and the red bands in between could be jasper. They are often found together.”
“Oh! Red jasper like my necklace. Are they valuable?” She stepped closer.
“Iron ore is, and if there is iron ore in this mine, that could be what my uncle was searching for. There is a way to melt iron now. With taller furnaces and men operating large bellows, it is possible to heat iron ore hot enough to melt it and get rid of all the impurities. The pure iron will be in high demand.”
Concentrating on the rock was helping to slow down his breathing.
“Is iron ore difficult to find?”
“Yes, that’s what makes it even more valuable.”
They continued on in their descent into the earth. But Steffan concentrated on the walls now as he walked, becoming more and more convinced that Magdalen’s father had not recognized the iron ore in these rocks after their copper ore ran out, and that was exactly what his uncle had found and wanted. Possibly all these abandoned mines contained the sought-after iron ore.
Finally, the floor evened out and they were walking on level ground.
“I know you are uncomfortable.” Magdalen’s voice reverberated off the walls. “Do you want to leave?”
“Not unless you want to.”
“I like it down here. But we have to go out eventually. Shall we turn around?”
They started moving Magdalen’s horse backward so they could turn her around in the narrow cave-like mine. Now that he was thinking about leaving instead of about the minerals in the mine, he started to sweat again and his breaths came in short gasps. He forced himself to focus on getting Magdalen’s horse headed in the opposite direction.
Shouts echoed through the mine. They were coming from the direction of the mouth of the mine.
Magdalen grabbed his arm. “They found us.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Steffan listened to the men’s voices carrying through the long, dark tunnel toward them. Magdalen pressed herself to his side.
“You said there was another entrance. Where is it?”
“Uh.” Magdalen seemed to freeze. Then she pulled on her horse’s reins and turned her back in the direction they had been going. “I’ll show you. Hurry.”
They set off at a brisk pace. They came to a Y in the mine and Magdalen turned to the right. The floor started angling up now. They were climbing a hill of rock.
Behind them a voice called, “You cannot escape.”
“It’s Lord Hazen.”
“He’s here?” Her voice was breathless. She clutched his arm tighter.
He needed to stay calm. Sweat dribbled into his eyebrows and he wiped it with his thumb.
They came to another Y and Magdalen stopped.
“Which way?”
“I don’t know. Oh, Steffan, I’m so sorry. I can’t remember.” She put her hand to her head.
“Don’t worry. Just think back to when you were a child playing in here. Think.” He tried to sound calm and use a gentle tone. His blood was starting to pulse faster in his veins even as the torch was flickering and burning less bright, threatening to go out. He took deep breaths as images flashed before him of being alone in the deep, dark, slimy well.
She pressed her thumb into her temple, staring down at the floor. Finally, she said, “I think we need to go left.”
They turned themselves and the horses to the left fork and hurried several dozen feet into that tunnel, until Magdalen suddenly groaned.
“This doesn’t look right. We’re starting to go down, aren’t we? This is wrong.” She halted. “We have to go back.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not sure, but . . . I think so. Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry. We will make it. Just breathe.” Just breathe, Steffan.
They backed the horses all the way up. Any minute Lord Hazen and his men could be upon them. They were trapped.
Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his temples. But he forced himself to focus. He had to get Magdalen safely out of here. Thankfully the horses were calm as long as he kept the torch away from their eyes. And the torch was growing dimmer and dimmer.
Finally, they were back at the fork. This time they took the right one, which climbed gradually higher. After they took a dozen or so steps, the torch flickered, sputtered, and then went out, plunging them into darkness. It pressed in on him on all sides.
“I can’t see.” Magdalen’s voice broke through his panic.
She seemed to be groping as her hand skimmed his arm, then she grabbed him with both hands.
“We have to keep going. I’m putting my hand on the wall.” He kept talking to keep them both calm. “It might be for the best. If Lord Hazen’s men have no torches, it will take them awhile to reach us. They’ll have to make one, and they won’t be able to see us now that our torch is out.”
“Ja, that’s true.”
He scraped his hand along the wall to make sure they didn’t get lost or collide with the wall while Magdalen clung to his arm that held the horses’ reins.
“How will we know when we are close to the opening?” he asked.
“It’s not easy to find, unfortunately, but this tunnel ends just past the opening above us. We just have to go to the end and then take a few steps backward and we should find it.”
They kept walking for what seemed like an eternity. Occasionally he heard a muffled shout somewhere far behind them. It was only a matter of time before Lord Hazen’s men reached them.
“We should pray,” he said.
“Oh God, oh Jesus, help us,” Magdalen whispered softly. “Help us find the opening. Help us escape and reach safety. We lift our eyes. Where does our help come from? Our help comes from the Lord.”
His heart skipped a beat at hearing her quote the Holy Scriptures.
Breathlessly, she kept talking, softly but quickly, as if she was saying whatever came to her mind. “Jesus, name above every name, keep us safe and give us victory over our enemies. Thank You for Steffan’s courage and for these horses who will take us to safety. Show us the way out of here and confuse our enemies so they cannot find us.”
Steffan’s head scraped on something and his chest constricted, so tight he could barely breathe. He was forced to lean down as he walked. Would he finally be suffocated in a dark hole under the earth, as he had so many times in his nightmares? Or would he humiliate himself by screaming like a baby afraid of the dark?
No, Magdalen was thanking God for his courage. He could not let her down.
“Thank You, God, that Your power is greater than any other,” her voice rattled on. “Thank You for rescuing us from our dire situation. Our lives are in Your hands.”
Now he was alternately running his hand along the wall and the ceiling overhead. Finally, he couldn’t resist asking, “Is the ceiling supposed to be getting lower?”
“Oh yes.” There was a joyful lift to her voice. “That means we’re close to the opening.”
Good. Because he was sweating like he was three feet from the sun, reliving every nightmare he’d ever had.
“Thank You, God, that we’re getting close. Please help us find it. Guide us in the dark.”
“I think I felt something.” A crack or fissure in the ceiling. As they moved farther he felt another crack. He stopped and grabbed her hand. “Here,
take the reins.” He put them in her palm. Then he used his fingers to feel around the crack.
“Close your eyes.” Dirt rained down as he pushed with all his might. Something gave way and let in a stream of light as well as dirt. He coughed, then pushed again and the opening widened. He threw off the covering. He stood up straight and stuck his head out.
A misty rain was falling in a small clearing that surrounded the spot, with two long wooden planks propped against a tree not far away.
“Boost me up,” Magdalen said, already lifting her arms over her head. “Once I get out I can get my father’s boards and get the horses out.”
He stooped and grabbed her around her knees and lifted her. After all the wood and water he’d been carrying, she felt quite light. He held her up until she’d had time to grasp the top of the opening, then he boosted her again. She scrambled up and out of the opening.
“Watch your eyes,” she said, and suddenly a huge section of the ceiling overhead started peeling away.
For several moments he heard nothing except the wind blowing outside, and leaves swept into the opening, making the horses stamp their feet and snort restlessly. Had she been captured by Lord Hazen’s men?
“Watch your head,” she said as a wooden plank appeared above him. He moved the horses a little farther out of the way as she slid the hewn plank in until it touched the floor of the mine. Then another plank appeared, and he helped guide it down beside the first one.
He tugged on the first horse’s reins and led him up, walking on the planks until they were both safely out of the hole. He handed the reins to Magdalen and went back down for the second horse.
Magdalen smiled in triumph. “We made it.”
Steffan was a bit pale, but he heaved a sigh. “Let us go. Lord Hazen’s men could spot us at any moment.”
“Should we close the opening?”
He was already bending down to grasp the first plank and haul it up. He got both of them up before she could even offer to help, then they placed the wooden covers back over the hole, kicking leaves and dirt over them. They each took the reins of their own horse.
“We need a place to hide.” Steffan looked intently in her eyes, standing so close they were almost touching.
“The only place I can think of is in one of the mines.”
“Choose one that was not on the map.”
She closed her eyes and pictured the map in her head. Yes, there was one in the valley on the other side of the village. “Come. I know which one.”
She tugged on her horse’s reins, leading her toward the top of the hill. Once there, she let the horse take her time going down the other side, as it was steep and the rain made the ground slick.
They crept along, making their way down the heavily forested, leaf-covered hillside. When they reached the base of the small ravine, Magdalen turned right, in the direction of one of the older mines.
“Mount up!” Steffan grabbed her by the waist from behind and practically threw her into her saddle. She looked over her shoulder. Four or five men on horseback were galloping toward them in a straight line along the ravine.
Magdalen urged her horse into a run. Steffan leapt on his own horse and was right behind her.
How would they ever lose them? Would they be able to get away? If they went to the mine she had planned on hiding in, the men would see them and trap them inside, as that mine did not have a second entrance.
Magdalen let her horse run the length of the ravine, and when it abruptly turned back to the left, she turned with it. But instead of following it all the way, knowing they were blocked from the view of Lord Hazen’s men, she steered her horse straight up the side of a short hill, then plunged down the other side.
The rain poured down now. Her horse slipped but then regained her footing.
Trusting that Steffan was right behind her, she drove her horse hard along the side of a less steep hill, avoiding the rocks along the way. Thankfully the trees were sparser here as well, though she still had to duck to avoid limbs.
She found a dirt trail that led them to a small wooden house in a clearing. She kept going and passed the house, rubbing the rain out of her eyes.
Now that she was at a level place, she looked behind her. Steffan was there, very close, and Lord Hazen’s men were nowhere in sight.
She steered her horse back toward the left. They looped around the side of the hill where the old mine was located. Would it be better to go to Mallin Park House? To the large stone home where her mother and sisters lived? Her mother did not have any guards and very few male servants who could help defend them. Thinking about her little siblings made her keep to her path around the hill and toward the mine.
She came to the old crooked tree at the entrance. She drew her horse to a halt and dismounted as a chill shook her body. Her horse let her lead her into the opening of the mine as Steffan dismounted.
She waited for Steffan to follow her. When he didn’t, she stepped to the opening and looked out. He was pushing on a dead, rotten tree. The base of the trunk gave way, sending the broken tree crashing down in front of the entrance. He led his horse over the tree and inside the mine.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Magdalen shivered in her wet clothes. Steffan ran his hands over his arms to brush off the excess water, then shook his hair.
“The rain is good,” he said. “They will have a harder time finding our trail.” He was staring out at the world outside the dark mine tunnel behind them.
“It might be good in that way, but I am cold.” Her skirts were weighed down with water, and drops ran from her hairline, one forming on the tip of her nose. She hastily wiped it off.
“What do we have that’s dry?” He opened up his saddlebag. It was leather and looked like it had been oiled to make it shed water. “I have some dry clothes. Check yours.”
She knew before she opened the soaked bag tied to her saddle that all her clothes would be drenched. And they were.
“I have an idea.” He turned to his horse. “Let’s take the saddles off the horses and you can wrap up in their blankets. They won’t smell very good, but at least you’ll be warm and dry.”
They worked together to unsaddle the horses and brush them off the best they could. They were still warm from the hard ride. “You’ll have to take off those wet clothes. You can put on some of mine.”
If he had said the words in any other way than the innocent tone he used, she might have either blushed or been defensive. But he was right, of course.
“You go first.” She motioned him farther into the mine.
He took a bundle of clothing and stepped into the dark mine. When he came back out moments later, she was surprised he already had his dry clothes on and he carried his wet ones.
“Here.” He reached into his leather saddlebag and handed her some clothes. “I know they won’t fit you very well, but they’ll be better than those wet things.”
She shivered as the chill seemed to seep into her bones. She took the clothes and went to change.
She fumbled with the men’s clothes in the dark, almost falling down trying to put on the hose. Thankfully it was the footless kind, but it was so loose she was afraid it might fall off. At least the linen shirt he gave her was soft, and it was so long it hung past her knees.
“Are you all right in there?”
Her teeth chattered when she said, “I’ll be there in a moment.” With stiff fingers she tied the laces at the neck of the coarse tunic, picked up her wet clothes, and joined him.
Steffan glanced at her but didn’t say anything. Her cheeks grew hot as she imagined her appearance in his clothes. And her hair must look like a bird’s nest after it had come loose from its braids on their wild ride.
“I’ll take that now.” She reached for the horse blanket he was holding. He gave it to her and she wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Do you want the other one as well?”
“Nein, this will do. I’ll be warm soon and the horse can have it
back. She’ll likely be cold after a few more minutes.”
“Don’t worry. They are well for now.” He was rubbing her horse’s head and neck with a cloth. Steffan’s hair was soaking wet and dripping from the ends.
“You’re drying off the horse instead of yourself.”
“We can’t afford for the horses to get sick.” He looked at her over his shoulder and smiled.
If she had to be stuck in an abandoned mine being chased by evil men, she was glad it was with a man who would not make advances on her. Yet he was kind enough to make light of the situation, to constantly tell her, “Don’t worry,” and to care more about her and the horses than himself.
But why did he have to be so handsome? With his dark, wet hair curling against his temples and forehead, his brown eyes shining in the dim light of a rainy twilight as he brushed the horses, her mind went back through the last two years when she’d dreamed he would ask her to marry him. She’d been so overjoyed when his letter arrived. Until the day he’d told her that he did not send that letter and that he did not wish to marry her at all.
Tears stung her eyes as she remembered his rejection. Foolish tears. She had no time to dwell on such a thing when their lives were in danger.
Magdalen went back to spread her wet clothes on a rock just inside the opening of the mine while her thoughts kept spinning, like a spider weaving its web. She couldn’t seem to stop them.
Steffan would naturally want someone wealthier than she was. A simple baron’s daughter from impoverished Mallin was not someone who would tempt a powerful duke. But he was not a powerful duke now. He was a man running for his life.
“Lord Hazen must be truly evil,” she said as she tried to wring the water from her hair. “Did you not know how evil he was when you were a boy?”
“I was not well acquainted with him until I was older. He and my grandmother did not like each other, so I rarely saw him when she was alive.”
The rain was coming down more heavily now. She stood beside him while he continued to brush off the horses.
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