by Jody Hedlund
Seeing the direction of my gaze, Lance slashed the hem of his tunic with his knife. The linen gave way with a sharp rend. Then he wrapped the strip tightly around his calf, apparently to staunch the flow of blood. He did so with ease as if he made an everyday practice of binding wounds. When he straightened and continued, I knew that was his way of telling me he’d taken care of the problem and wanted me to proceed without giving his injury another thought.
Within minutes, we had the princesses and horses ready to go.
“You should ride,” Sister Katherine said to Lance as he limped forward, leading his steed with Constance astride holding one satchel. I led my mount carrying the other bag.
“The horses are too worn,” Lance said.
“Your injury is severe.” Sister Katherine cocked her head toward his leg as though she could see through the mangled boot and hose to the flesh underneath. “And the climb is steep.”
“We’ll travel by foot as long as we’re able.” The lines in his face were taut, and a sheen of perspiration had formed on his brow. “I’ll take the rear guard.”
Sister Katherine pursed her lips as if holding herself back from admonishing him. After a moment, she handed him a pouch. “Very well. Then I shall need you to sprinkle a consistent dusting of this powder over our trail.” Without another word, she started off, gesturing for me to follow.
The path wound through the ravine, and every plodding step up the gradual incline reminded me of my exhaustion. After some time, we came to a dead end at a smooth stone wall that rose steeply. I didn’t know why Sister Katherine had led us to the secluded spot. Although a part of me knew it was far-fetched, my mind immediately began to consider dangerous possibilities. What if she’d trapped us and would now kill us?
I was surprised when she swept aside a large thorny gorse bush and stone to reveal a dark tunnel. With a gentle smile that seemed to show she’d known the turn of my thoughts, Sister Katherine disappeared into the opening.
We ducked inside, the horses having to hold their necks low to fit. Lance carefully replaced the brush and stone before we started down the passageway. Even without a torch to light our way, a dim glow led us until it finally materialized into an opening that took us back outside. After again positioning gorse and stone to hide the tunnel, we continued upward on a rocky path that was hardly suitable for human feet, much less the horses. They stumbled and snorted, clearly weary and ready to collapse.
As my legs turned to hot mush from the exertion and my breath came in short bursts, I wanted nothing more than to climb onto my horse and ride the rest of the way. But every time I looked at Lance, I reminded myself to be strong, like him. His limp from his wound grew more pronounced with each bend we rounded. Yet he didn’t complain, not even with the tiniest of groans.
I had reached the point where I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hike when a bend in the path revealed the entirety of the Eastern Plains as far as the eye could see, maybe to Everly and the Upper Cress River and beyond. The view was not only breathtaking but disquieting. This nun could have been watching us for days. If so, did she realize we were more than a simple peasant family fleeing from Everly? And what would she do to us if she discovered who we really were?
Before I could voice my fears, Lance spoke behind me, his voice hoarse. “Felicia, you must sprinkle the herbs now.”
I swiveled in time to see him sway. His eyes rolled back in his head. And then he crumpled to the rocky path.
A sharp cry of protest fell from my lips, and anxiety seized my heart for this brave man who could run for hours without tiring, go days without sleep, and fight multiple wolves single-handedly. He was made of a will and character stronger than the finest iron mined in Mercia. I knew he had to be near death to stop moving and protecting the princesses.
I knelt beside him, felt for the pulse in his neck, and prayed he was still alive.
Chapter
10
Lance
I fought to break free of death’s grip. I wrestled fiercely with the black beast, slashing it and forcing it to stay at arm’s length.
I didn’t know how much longer I could fight it off. I was so tired and thirsty, ready to let my arm drop in weariness and my knees buckle in exhaustion. I wanted nothing more than to simply sleep, as I had when I’d been a lad still living at home. In the crowded one-room house made of wattle and daub with a thatched roof, I’d been safe on my mat in front of the center fireplace. I’d known my father was nearby, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me or the rest of my family.
Why couldn’t I be that boy again? Walking in my father’s shadow? If only I’d resisted his aspirations for me to become a knight and had stayed in the smelter working alongside him. Maybe then I would have been able to rescue him from the explosion. Perhaps I could have pulled him to safety in time.
Not only had I been unable to save him, but I was losing a battle in saving myself. I couldn’t remember anymore why it was so important to do so. Why not succumb to death’s hold? What reason did I have to struggle so hard against it?
I tried to make my mind work. But all I knew was that I was fighting. Always fighting. And this time it was against death.
“He responds to your touch,” said a wobbly older voice above me.
“If only that were enough.” The reply was sad and weary. Felicia?
I was suddenly conscious of her fingers wrapped around my hand squeezing gently.
“Perhaps if you gave him a kiss,” the older person said.
There was a pause. Then a whispered, “I really shouldn’t—”
“It is quite clear you love him.”
“It is?”
“Of course. You can hardly eat or sleep with your worry. And you have rarely left his side in the four days you have been here.”
Four days? And where was here? Were we inside the holy house?
“Now go ahead. Give him true love’s kiss, for it is oft the strongest weapon for fighting the battle with death.”
Already I could feel my pulse gaining strength. Did Felicia love me? Surely, that wasn’t correct. She was of the noble class. She couldn’t stoop to loving someone like me. I was a nobody, only her protector, the simple soldier who’d been assigned to serve the king’s dying wish.
Felicia’s fingers tightened around mine.
Part of me cautioned my brain to do the honorable thing and wake up. But the other part of me was still too weary, too entangled with the grip of death to make the effort.
“I shall step outside for a moment to allow you the privacy,” said the older one.
“Thank you,” Felicia replied, her voice breathy with shyness.
Slow footsteps crossed the room with a plodding that confirmed this woman was old, probably on the heavy side, with arthritis in her joints. Once the door clicked closed, my senses awakened to other details of my surroundings: the scent of a dozen herbal remedies, the coolness of stone walls as well as the thickness of them that brought a solid silence to the room.
I could feel Felicia rise and realized she’d been sitting in a chair beside my bed which was a pallet of some sort, more comfortable than the floor but certainly not soft beneath my aching limbs.
The movement of the air as well as the slight sounds of her shuffling told me she leaned above me. If I opened my eyes, I’d likely see her hovering there, her green eyes filled with worry—worry about me and whether she was doing the right thing in following the nun’s advice.
I needed to tell her she didn’t have to do anything that would make her uncomfortable. That it wasn’t her job to rescue me. That she didn’t have to pretend to love me.
She dropped nearer until I felt her breath just above my face. Then it was above my mouth. And all thoughts ceased, save one.
I wanted her to kiss me.
For long moments, her breathing bathed me. It contained the fresh scent of mint. And warmth. Slowly the warmth spread from my chest to my arms and fingers. Then it moved from my heart to my legs an
d toes. Already, her nearness alone was giving me renewed strength. She wasn’t obligated to kiss me.
My longing for her kiss grew nonetheless, my lungs searing with the need. I thought I might perish, until her lips brushed mine, sweetly and softly like a gentle summer sprinkle after a hot day of work.
I basked for several heartbeats in the refreshment and life that poured through me. When she lessened the pressure and began to rise, I chased after her, finally reacting, finally coming to life. I captured her lips in a kiss that came from all the emotion I’d felt over the past days. The admiration, appreciation, and aye, even attraction. I couldn’t deny I cared deeply for this young woman.
We hadn’t known each other long, but what we’d gone through together in saving the princesses had somehow formed a bond I couldn’t deny. I’d broken all the rules of the king’s guard and my vow of celibacy. And I’d broken the boundaries of our classes. But something swelled inside me so deeply I couldn’t quell my need to respond and to communicate back my growing feelings.
I held her lips in a kiss that lasted only a few more seconds before she released the pressure and raised her head. Her beautiful eyes landed upon mine, making me realize I was fully conscious. Our gazes locked, and her eyes widened, giving me a glimpse into her soul, to the worry and concern she’d harbored there while I’d been delirious.
“You are awake,” she said softly, letting her lashes drop to veil the embarrassment that had moved in. “How do you feel?”
I wanted to reach for her hand and reassure her I coveted her attention. But I couldn’t make my hand move. “I’ve been unconscious for four days?” I managed, my voice hoarse.
“Your wound was severe.” She glanced at the lower half of my body covered with a blanket. “And you lost a great deal of blood.”
I flexed my calf, and fire shot through my leg in both directions. I couldn’t hold back a grimace at the pain. “Are we at St. Cuthbert’s?”
“Yes, and the nuns have been wonderful to us, giving us everything we need and taking good care of you.”
“The princesses?”
“They are well.”
“No one has tracked us here?”
“We could see more wolves searching the plains and ravines, but they turned back. No one has come since.”
Relief hit me like a strong current. It pulled me down, and I sank into its embrace, closing my eyes and letting peace wash over me. I knew we couldn’t stay at the holy house forever. I’d have to devise another plan for the princesses. But at least for now I’d kept them from Ethelwulf and harm.
I wanted to ask Felicia more questions, hold her hand, and stare at her. But I was too exhausted from my fight with death, so I let sleep claim me.
I slept on and off for another three days. Sometimes, when I awoke, Felicia was at my side. More often, the older woman was present—a nun by the name of Sister Agnes. I learned she was a skilled physician and had saved my leg and life.
The moment the wolf had sunk its fangs into my flesh, I’d known the wound would be ugly. The teeth had ripped through muscle all the way to my bone. Sister Agnes had done her best to fend off putrefaction and repair the damage. But when I was finally strong enough to sit up and look at my calf, I realized I’d been very fortunate to remain standing and finish fighting the wolf, much less walk away.
“I have had a cane fashioned for you,” Sister Agnes said as she entered the low-ceilinged chamber where I’d been bedridden for the past week. It was just one of the many small rooms of the abbey that had been carved into the mountainside.
Due to blending in to its surroundings, the hideaway was invisible to the outside world. Additionally, the route to the holy place was nearly impossible to locate without insider help. Although I prided myself on my sense of direction and ability to find anything I set my mind to, we’d been fortunate Sister Katherine had seen us and come to our aid when she had.
Sister Agnes handed me a well-crafted cane made of blackthorn. But I didn’t take it. Instead, I stood and tried to put weight on my leg. Immediate throbbing enveloped my calf, so unbearable I had to sit back down, suddenly breathless.
“You need it, Lance,” Sister Agnes said firmly but not unkindly. Her pale skin glistened with a persistent sheen of perspiration, even in the coolness of the stone room.
I shook my head. “I’ll learn to get along without it.”
She lowered her hefty frame into the chair next to the bed. Twirling the crutch in her soft, healing hands, she leveled a frank look at me. “You will never be able to walk again without a limp.”
I flexed my leg and resisted the urge to cry out at the pain that was still so sharp. “I’m young and strong. With time, I’ll heal and be able to strengthen my muscles.”
“That is true,” she conceded. “But you will never regain the agility, speed, or strength you once had.”
Her words pierced me more than the pain in my leg. Without my agility, speed, and strength, I’d no longer be fit for the army, much less the king’s guard. Even though the king’s elite guard would no longer exist as it once had, there were others like me who would never submit to Ethelwulf, warriors who would go into hiding—perhaps flee to the country of Norland to the north—until the occasion was right to fight for the true heir. When that time came, I would be ready to rise up with the rest of my comrades in arms.
“You must resign yourself to some other purpose in life besides the army,” Sister Agnes said.
“I have no other purpose.” I couldn’t return to working in a smelter. I’d only put everyone around me at risk, particularly my family. As it was, I could only pray they’d receive my note encouraging them to hide, a note the nuns had assured me would reach my mother.
Sister Agnes twirled the cane again and then held it out to me. “Sometimes, when we think we’ve come to a dead end, we’ve arrived instead at God’s stepping-stone on the way to bigger plans.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed with Sister Agnes. I’d worked hard for my position in the king’s guard, put myself through years of intense training. I was a warrior, and that’s what I wanted to remain.
Even so, I took the cane, placed it on the floor, and then rose, letting the sturdiness of it brace me. I didn’t want to be dependent on anyone or anything. I’d stood on my own for too long, and it galled me I had to rely on the cane, on Sister Agnes, or even on Felicia. But for now, I didn’t have a choice.
Before I could say more, the door opened and Felicia stepped inside. Her hair was windblown, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes bright. At the sight of her, my heartbeat began to ping like a hammer against hot metal. Of course, my thoughts returned to the kiss she’d initiated a few days ago. I’d relived it a dozen times, wishing it could happen again.
Ever since the kiss, she’d been slightly more reserved around me, as though she, too, was remembering the moment. But neither of us had said anything about it.
“How are the babes today?” I asked.
“They were awake for an hour this morning,” she said. “The longest time yet.”
Apparently, the first day we’d arrived, Felicia had admitted to the half dozen nuns who lived in the abbey that the girls were the royal princesses. She’d told me she’d had no choice, that the wise women had guessed as much the moment they’d spotted us from the lookout. A warrior and a beautiful noblewoman racing to safety together with two infants and a child? What other explanation was there?
I’d known we would need to divulge the information to the nuns at some point anyway. We wouldn’t have been able to keep up the peasant charade around them for long. They were too intelligent and would see right past it.
Besides, we needed their help in protecting the princesses. During the few days of lying abed, I’d formulated a dozen plans for what to do next, and I always came back to the option of leaving the girls here at St. Cuthbert’s. I hadn’t been able to search the premises yet, but from everything Felicia had told me and that I’d gleaned from my observations, I guessed this place
was safer than most.
Sister Agnes smiled at Felicia in welcome. “I see you have been out in the garden again. Princess Constance loves being in the sunshine, does she not?”
Felicia had told me about the large garden the women grew in a hidden valley within the confines of their mountain home. Sister Katherine oversaw the many plants they cultivated for food and medicine. Felicia had enjoyed relaying to me all the things she was learning from Sister Katherine about growing a garden.
“I did not come from the garden.” Felicia spoke with a seriousness that sent a chill across my skin.
Sister Agnes’s smile faded as though she, also, sensed a foreboding.
“I went to the lookout tower,” Felicia continued. “A band of King Ethelwulf’s army is riding toward the northeastern range. Sister Katherine says they will be here within two days.”
Chapter
11
Felicia
I stood next to Lance in the tower and peered out over the wide plains. “There.” I pointed to a distant spot on the horizon with a cloud of dust above it.
“Aye,” Lance replied without taking his eyes from the view. “I never doubted you, Felicia. I just needed to gauge what kind of contingent and how fast they’re moving.”
“No wolves this time,” Sister Katherine said from my other side. “But they will likely have someone they have coerced to lead them here.”
“I thought no one knew how to find the abbey,” I said.
Sister Katherine shook her head. “Other nuns know we exist. Perhaps one of them gave out the location not realizing the need for secrecy. Or perhaps one of King Francis’s elite guards revealed our whereabouts and the hidden pathways that lead to us.”