The Lost Princesses Medieval Romance Collection

by Jody Hedlund

  Mitchell flinched but refused to back down. “If the king decides it, you will do it.”

  I started to rebut him, but the captain cut us both off with a vicious growl. “The king has already decided Princess Constance will marry Prince Ethelrex. They are to wed immediately upon our arrival at Delsworth.”

  Captain Theobald’s news rendered me speechless. The king had made plans for me to marry his oldest son, the crown prince? From the shock rippling over Mitchell’s features, I guessed he hadn’t expected to hear that any more than I had.

  “Then why did he send the wolves after me?” I asked, finding my voice.

  “They were commanded to capture and trap you until I arrived with my men.”

  A shudder crawled up my back at the remembrance of the wolves surrounding me. If the ferocious beasts had truly wanted to kill me, they probably could have, even with Christopher and Mitchell fending them off.

  Now I understood why the captain hadn’t abused and killed me yet, why he’d sought a peaceful negotiation rather than attempt a battle against me. He had instructions to bring me in alive and unharmed in order to unite the House of Mercia with the House of Warwick. Such a move would silence any remaining opposition to the king’s rule and cut off the rebellion that had been brewing for years. How could anyone fight against King Ethelwulf if he legitimized his family’s claim to the throne through his son’s marriage to me?

  The captain watched my reaction, his lips once again twisting in pleasure at my horror. He knew as well as King Ethelwulf that my marriage to the crown prince would appease those who were discontent but would ultimately render me powerless. Instead of becoming a ruler in my own right, I’d merely be a pawn in a dangerous game. Nothing would change in the kingdom. Injustice and lawlessness would continue.

  Captain Theobald’s grin inched higher. “Since your groom is anxiously awaiting your return, we must not keep him waiting. Would you not agree, Princess?”

  He gave me no more chance to respond but instead spun and urged his horse into a trot. The knights surrounding me took that as their cue to move, giving me no choice but to do the same.

  My body reacted woodenly, my movements like a puppet on a string. More than the news of my fate, the truth of Christopher’s predicament drained the lifeblood from me. He was trapped in a barren ruin and would soon be buried there alive.

  Even after he’d ridden away from Mercia, I’d always harbored hope that he’d return, that I’d see him again, and that he’d learn to love me. Even after he’d rejected me in the Wellmont ruins this past night, somewhere deep inside a flame had still flickered—though weakly—that perhaps I could someday change his mind about me.

  But now he was gone. There was no hope for him. He was all but dead. And inside I was dead too.

  Chapter

  16

  Adelaide

  By midday, the fog had dissipated. However, rain continued to fall nigh into the evening, drenching us and making us miserable in spite of our oiled cloaks—although I didn’t know how I could get any more miserable with thoughts of Christopher’s death haunting me at every turn.

  During the long hours of riding, I’d counted three dozen elite guards and three unit commanders. With Captain Theobald, that brought the total number of soldiers to forty. As much as I wanted to fight my way free, I reminded myself as I had earlier that any attempt to battle them would be suicide.

  Had Mitchell realized that as well? From his black eye and split lip, I suspected he’d crossed paths with Captain Theobald’s group by accident during his search for the treasure. Maybe upon seeing how outnumbered we were, Mitchell had realized the impossibility of winning a fight. He always had been more reasonable and logical than I had.

  He’d clearly expected that in eliminating Christopher, a sworn enemy of the crown, and in giving Captain Theobald the ancient key, he’d prove his loyalty, secure my release, and take me back to Langley.

  I wanted to shake Mitchell for his foolishness. He should have known the king would never free me. I was too dangerous. Perhaps Mitchell had known but had hoped to spare our lives. Whatever the case, what neither of us had expected was that the king would use me to his advantage through marriage to his son.

  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 conditions 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 rep
aid 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.