by Jody Hedlund
Mitchell paused several steps up, his shoulders slumped and his head bowed. “Fighting Theobald and his guards is suicide. Even if he is lying, at least now we have a chance of survival.”
“If we cannot fight them, then we will outrun them.”
“Believe it or not, I am saving your life by locking you up down here.”
“I do not need you to save my life. I would rather die than give in to Theobald.”
“Stop trying to be the hero again, Christopher,” Mitchell retorted, his voice stretching thin with anger. “It irks you that this time I shall save Adelaide and that she will want to fall into my arms instead of yours.”
“I have no intention of being a hero.” My only thought was how to make Mitchell release me from my cell so I could keep him from his foolish bargain with Theobald.
He resumed his ascent up the stairs. I was losing him. I pressed against the bars as if in so doing I could stop him. “I was wrong to kiss her! I beg you to forgive me!”
Mitchell’s feet disappeared from sight.
“I know you love her! That you want to marry her! If you release me, I vow I will help bring about your union to her.” I didn’t know how I’d fulfill such a promise, but I was desperate to save Adelaide’s life, and I would say or do anything.
The scrape of wood was followed by a slam that echoed down into the dungeons, telling me with a sickening finality, he’d closed the door and walked away.
Chapter
15
Adelaide
The mist and fog swirled around us as we rode down the rocky slope of the ruins, the faint light from Tall John’s torch guiding the way.
“I think we should wait for Christopher.” I reined my horse and forced Mitchell behind me to halt.
“He insisted we ride ahead.” Mitchell nudged Roland with the heel of his boot. The beast snorted in displeasure but began moving again, urging mine to do the same. “With the break of dawn, he did not want us to waste any more time.”
“’Tis strange since he was so anxious to be off.”
“He wanted to climb the tower and see if he could gauge our lead against King Ethelwulf.”
“Then he believes the king’s forces are nearby?”
“Yes.”
Something in Mitchell’s tone hinted at nervousness. Was the situation more volatile than he was telling me? Was that why he’d spoken with Christopher in private? So he could inform him of our dire situation without worrying me?
“Whatever you revealed to Christopher you may also reveal to me.” I jolted in my saddle with each rocky step my horse took, and I leaned into him to lessen the impact.
When Mitchell didn’t respond, a new sense of dread bored a hole in my chest. We were in danger. I just prayed this time we wouldn’t face wolves. “If it pleases the Almighty,” I whispered. “No more wolves.”
At the bottom of the embankment, Tall John slowed. “Which way, my lord?”
“Straight ahead,” Mitchell responded.
The blackness of night was beginning to fade, but the fog hung heavily, making our flight difficult, even with Tall John’s torch.
“Will Christopher be able to find us?” Once my question was out, I knew how silly I sounded. Christopher was a seasoned knight, a skilled hunter, and an expert warrior. Even in our childhood, I’d watched him track prey with a precision that had put both Mitchell’s and my skills to shame.
Thankfully, Mitchell didn’t berate me for my ignorant question. Instead, we rode silently until Tall John’s steed came to an abrupt halt and shied sideways, whinnying a protest.
“Is something amiss?” I asked.
His horse backtracked several paces until it bumped into mine. Tall John leaned in and spoke soothingly to the animal.
Mitchell urged Roland forward and passed both of us. At the front of our procession, he, too, stopped short. He sat upon his mount silently, unmoving, as though waiting for someone or something.
I opened my mouth to speak again, but just then the fog lifted to expose a sight that chilled my flesh down to the bone. Knights in black armor. I didn’t have to see the emblem upon their standards to know they were from King Ethelwulf’s elite guard.
My sword and dagger were unsheathed before I could take full stock of our situation. All I knew was that we would have to fight. I could afford no fear or hesitation.
I dug my heels into my mount to spur him forward, but at the sound of my movement, Mitchell reared his horse into my path. “No, Adelaide! Put away your weapons. They come in peace.”
Roland shifted with a snort of protest, and at the same time, I scanned the surrounding area. Through the rolling fog and the light mist, I caught a glimpse of the dark shapes of dozens of knights and their flickering torches. As if they’d been waiting there just for us, they surrounded us in a circle that left no room for escape, even in the direction we’d just come.
Their ready presence, Mitchell’s nervousness, Christopher’s absence. It all made sense now. Somehow, Mitchell had communicated with King Ethelwulf’s soldiers and had betrayed us.
Swift anger bubbled up. “What have you done? And where is Christopher?” I turned on Mitchell. But as I spoke, several knights broke away from their ranks and rode toward us.
“Speak no more of him,” Mitchell said harshly.
The guards closed in, their weapons drawn. I lifted my sword and braced myself for battle.
“Captain.” Mitchell bowed his head to the knight on the largest warhorse. The royal standard upon the banner covering the horse contained two golden lions facing each other in the salient, or leaping, position on an ebony background. Mercia’s standard was nearly identical with two golden lions in rampant, or standing, against a ruby background. When King Ethelwulf had united the kingdoms, he’d taken Warwick’s emblem and added a ruby border. Otherwise, Warwick’s original standard remained unchanged.
I’d always wondered if King Ethelwulf thought his leaping lions were superior to standing lions. Maybe he believed physical prowess drove a kingdom. I was of the mind people flourished better when they were treated with kindness and respect.
The knight didn’t respond to Mitchell but instead stared directly at me with narrowed eyes as cold and sharp as ice floes in the East Sea. His chain mail hood surrounded his face, but I could see the three warrior braids, the traditional hairstyle of the king’s elite guard. A deep scar ran the length of his cheek, starting just below his eye and disappearing into a long pointed beard in the style of King Ethelwulf. The captain held himself rigidly, his gloved fingers tight against the hilt of his sword as if he expected some resistance.
I burned with the need to ask Mitchell where Christopher was and why he wasn’t with us. But I held my tongue. It was possible this captain didn’t know yet about Christopher’s presence. And it was possible Christopher was somewhere nearby waiting for the right moment to attack and take the knights by surprise.
“The Princess Constance,” the captain said almost derisively.
“Queen Constance.” I lifted my chin and refused to let this man intimidate me. I had the feeling I should know who he was, but my sheltered existence had kept me from court and political life. “Who are you, sir?”
His cool eyes assessed me too intimately. “The resemblance to your mother is striking.”
I bristled at his blatant disregard for my query of introduction, but I forced myself to remain composed. “Then you met Queen Dierdal?”
“Not formally, unfortunately.” His voice turned soft and contradicted the hardness of his eyes. “But I feel as though I grew quite familiar with her since I was the one who hanged her body from the castle wall at Delsworth.”
Revulsion swelled in my throat. I didn’t know what this man wanted from me or what Mitchell hoped to accomplish with his betrayal, but I had the premonition I wouldn’t live long to find out.
My face must have reflected my disgust, for his lips curled into a semblance of a smile revealing he was the sort of twisted man who found pleasure at the expens
e of others. I’d do well not to show my true emotions, which would deprive him of the pleasure he sought.
I gave him what I hoped was my haughtiest look. “I am surprised, sir, that King Ethelwulf did not hang you in her place after her body was stolen away by her beloved followers.”
The captain’s tight smile faded, and he assessed me more keenly. “Perhaps I will have the satisfaction of getting to know you the same way I got to know your mother.”
His insinuation made me want to shudder, but I squared my shoulders and didn’t back away. “You shall soon discover I am not like my mother.” I didn’t realize my voice contained a challenge until he unsheathed his dagger halfway and shifted his attention to my neck, a deadly glint in his expression.
Behind me, I heard the rasp of metal against metal as Tall John and Mitchell unsheathed their swords.
I had no doubt the captain was accustomed to unquestioning obedience and was quick to cut down anyone who opposed him in the slightest. I waited for him to strike. I would most certainly fight back. Instead of lashing out as he likely would have done with anyone else, he slowly pushed his dagger back into his belt.
Only then did I realize how tightly I gripped the hilt of my sword. I loosened my hold but didn’t let go completely. What was stopping him from hurting—even killing—me as he clearly longed to do? I was King Ethelwulf’s enemy. Surely, the king wanted me dead and would have given orders to kill me upon sight.
“Hand over the key.” The captain held out his hand to Mitchell.
Mitchell stuffed his sword back into his belt and nudged Roland next to me. His eyes pleaded with me to understand and forgive him. “If we give Captain Theobald the key to the treasure, he will permit us to return to Langley.”
My brows shot up. This was the notorious Captain Theobald? I should have guessed his identity. He certainly looked the part of the heartless captain who had caused Mercia so much grief over the years.
For a brief instant, I considered making the first move against him. I longed to take him unaware and rid Mercia of so merciless a leader. But I sensed he was as quick as I was and would deflect my blow if I struck him.
Instead, I met the captain’s gaze squarely. “I do believe you are as dishonest as they say. The king most certainly would not allow me to return to Langley.” If I did, what would stop me from attempting to rise up again, especially after I’d had time and opportunity to rally rebels and loyalists to my side? The king would never chance it.
“King Ethelwulf only wants the ancient key to King Solomon’s treasure,” Mitchell said. “That is all he has coveted.”
Captain Theobald didn’t respond to either of us. I suspected he’d take the ancient key from me whether I gave it peacefully or not. He may have convinced Mitchell he was negotiating, but from the stories I’d heard about Captain Theobald, he was a man who took whatever he desired any way he wanted.
“Please, Adelaide,” Mitchell whispered. “Give him the key. Then we can return home.”
The captain didn’t release me from his sights. He watched me with a strange, narrowed anticipation, as though he hoped I would refuse so he could forcibly remove the key from me.
Keeping my expression emotionless, I reached for my leather pouch underneath my cloak and chain mail. I loosened the drawstring and fingered the heirloom. Did I dare to part with it? Sister Katherine had said I’d need the treasure to rid the land of evil. If I handed the key over to the king, would I be handing over my chances at finding the treasure? Dare I fight to keep it?
I glanced at the shadowy outlines of the knights surrounding us. Where was Christopher? He should be shooting his arrows by now. Without his aid, we wouldn’t be able to fight this many men. If I initiated, I’d bring death not only to myself but to Mitchell and Tall John.
My fingers brushed against the signet ring, the one Aunt Susanna had kept hidden for me all these years. In bringing me into her home and caring for me, she’d exhibited both courage and caution. Her example was one I needed to follow. And this situation demanded caution.
I pushed aside the signet ring and reluctantly tugged the key out of the pouch. Then I held it out to Mitchell. I refused to personally give it to Captain Theobald.
Mitchell completed the deed. The captain examined the relic before tucking it away.
“Now that you have the key,” Mitchell said, “we shall be on our way to Langley.”
“First we ride to Delsworth.” Captain Theobald motioned to the several knights who accompanied him. Before Mitchell or Tall John could react, the knights drew alongside me, one on each side and the other behind.
“Captain,” Mitchell called, “you gave me your word we would be safe, that you would not harm Adelaide or my manservant, and that we could leave peaceably.”
“We are leaving peaceably.” The captain urged his horse around, his spurs jangling. “As long as you do not resist, I have been ordered to bring you to the king alive.”
“You have no need for Adelaide now,” Mitchell insisted, the fog and darkness of the morning swallowing him and making him disappear from my sight. “I shall return with her to Langley.”
“First the king would like to hear any additional information you have about the other princesses and treasure.”
“I know nothing more.”
“And of course, he’ll want to discuss your family’s loyalty to him.”
“I have provided the key to the treasure. I had no reason to tell you about it other than to prove my loyalty.”
Captain Theobald released a mirthless laugh. “You must know by now the king will require much more than that to prove your faithfulness.”
I wanted to believe Mitchell had made the deal with the captain in order to protect me. But perhaps he also worried for his own life now that the king realized his father—the former Earl of Langley, his once trusted and loyal advisor—had betrayed him by harboring me for so many years. King Ethelwulf would certainly now call into question Mitchell’s loyalty and would seek retribution.
“I have already done much to demonstrate my allegiance to the king,” Mitchell said. “Whatever he has asked of me, I have done it.”
“So did your father.”
“I am not my father,” Mitchell said angrily. “I told you I would lock away and leave for dead my traitorous brother, and I have.”
Leave for dead my traitorous brother? The words pierced my chest like arrows. I halted my steed, forcing the black knights around me to stop. The world turned dizzy and tipped upside down, and I had the sudden overwhelming need to vomit. Instead, I unsheathed my dagger and lunged toward Mitchell. Before anyone could stop me, I had the knife at the tender spot in his throat.
“You’re leaving Christopher behind to die?” My voice was like iron.
Mitchell didn’t move.
“Then you are a murderer.”
“His grand plans were for naught, Adelaide, and you know it. He could never succeed against King Ethelwulf.”
“If you’d like,” Captain Theobald said, “I can send one of my men down to the dungeons to retrieve him. Perhaps you’d prefer to watch as I slay him before your very eyes instead of letting him waste away slowly and painfully.”
For a moment, I considered the possibility that if the captain brought Christopher out, he might be able to overcome his captor and escape. But even if he freed himself, I knew in my heart he’d never leave me behind. He’d attack Captain Theobald’s army and fight for my freedom. And in doing, I had to admit, he’d likely die, especially if Mitchell refused to join the battle against Captain Theobald and his men.
For now, I had to resign myself to Christopher remaining locked in the dungeons. In the meantime, I’d figure out a way to free myself or find someone who was willing to return to the Wellmont ruins and free him.
“Leave him,” Mitchell said disdainfully. “He deserves a slow and painful death.”
“I’m glad you agree,” Captain Theobald said still watching my face. “To ensure no one finds him or
comes back to free him, I’ll have my men fill the stairwell opening with stones.”
I could only stare at Mitchell. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind, thoughts of my childhood with Mitchell, of playing in the rivers and woods around Langley, of riding and hunting and training together, of the skinned knees and elbows, of nettles in our hair and bee stings on our bare feet. We’d been companions for as long as I could remember.
I couldn’t believe Mitchell was capable of such treachery, much less murder. Then again, I’d never seen him as angry as I had last night when he’d walked away after witnessing me kiss Christopher. Was it possible he’d reacted in a moment of fury he’d later regret?
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple rubbing against the tip of my dagger. “Christopher was a danger to you. So I did what I needed to keep you safe.”
“And am I safe?” I waved my hand to the heavy cavalry of knights watching our interaction with interest.
“When the king is assured of my loyalty, he will allow me to return to Langley. He already gave me permission to marry you when I last traveled to Delsworth. We will wed and in doing so assure him you are no threat.”
“We will wed?” My voice rose with incredulity. “I shall never marry you.”
Mitchell’s countenance hardened, and he shoved my dagger away. “You might not have a choice this time, Adelaide.”
Christopher’s words about how I’d slighted Mitchell came back to me. Ignoring him after the wolf attack had hurt him deeply. And I’d also hurt him by finding comfort in Christopher’s arms and kisses. Even so, I’d never considered the possibility Mitchell had intentions that went beyond friendship. Was there a chance he’d been secretly infatuated with me the same way I had been with Christopher? Perchance such feelings had only made his conflict with Christopher worse.
“So you’re destroying Christopher because you didn’t want me to get closer to him than you? How could you?”
“He had no right to have you—”
“Enough,” Captain Theobald interrupted. “We must be on our way.”
“I shall marry whomever I choose.” I ignored the captain. “And it will not be a murderer.”