The Lost Princesses Medieval Romance Collection

by Jody Hedlund

  The king’s words elicited laughter among the nobles and cheers of encouragement.

  Christopher bowed to the king. “I am your humble servant, Your Majesty. Who am I to deny your command?”

  The king released a boisterous laugh.

  Christopher then bowed his head toward me. “Will you graciously grant me the pleasure of sealing our vows with a kiss?”

  Since our night eating cake on the turret, I’d longed for another kiss, but he’d held himself back out of respect and integrity. Even now, our eyes connected as they had many times throughout the week, and a familiar spark flamed between us.

  “Let it be known,” I said loudly enough for the gathering to hear, but I had eyes only for my husband. “The Earl of Langley may kiss the queen of Mercia without permission. I grant him free license to kiss her whenever he so chooses or so desires.”

  My proclamation brought more cheers, the loudest from King Draybane.

  Without waiting for a second invitation, Christopher stooped and pressed his lips to mine, effectively wiping out the rest of the world save the two of us for a brief moment. Much too brief.

  When he lifted away, the king had already claimed Christopher’s attention, slapping him on the back as if he’d just become the victor in a tournament.

  “Before we depart for the wedding feast,” King Draybane shouted out as the wedding guests began to rise. “I would like to announce my gift to the newlyweds.”

  Christopher shook his head. “Your friendship is gift enough—”

  “No, no,” King Draybane said, the mirth in his features giving way to a seriousness I hadn’t seen there often. “Lord Langley, you are like a son to me, and Queen Adelaide Constance has proven herself to be like a daughter.”

  As he spoke the kindly words, his gaze shifted from Christopher to me. The sincerity in his eyes brought a lump to my throat, and I understood once more why Christopher had served this king so loyally the past five years.

  “My gift to you is resources and men to aid in your fight against the black-hearted King Ethelwulf.”

  I had not brought up his involvement in our war against King Ethelwulf even though this past week some on my advisory council had urged me to do so. I’d been adamantly opposed to asking King Draybane for his help. I’d already made my request of him after the jousting tournament, and I would not diminish or add to it.

  Had Christopher worked out a plan with the king without my knowledge?

  I glanced at him, our eyes meeting again. His expression told me he was as taken aback as I was by the king’s generous offer.

  “I may not be able to provide much for your cause,” the king continued. “But Norland will do whatever it can to restore Mercia’s rightful queen to her throne.”

  I bowed my head in deepest gratitude to the king. I didn’t know how or when we’d return to Mercia to fight King Ethelwulf. But when we did, we would need every bit of assistance we could get from the people of Mercia, the king of Norland, but most of all, from God.

  The all-wise God had given me the wisdom to accomplish everything I had so far. And perhaps His wisdom was the only part of the ancient treasure I truly needed. For the Holy Scriptures said: “Happy is the man that finds wisdom, and the man that gets understanding.”

  If I gained nothing else, I knew I’d already been blessed.

  Chapter

  26

  King Ethelwulf

  I caressed the key, staring at the detailed pattern of the pomegranate as I had a hundred times. I was no closer to understanding its meaning than I was the day Captain Theobald had brought it to me. I’d had my best scholars study the golden relic. Other than informing me the pomegranate was an ancient symbol for wisdom, they could tell me nothing else, especially about the location of the treasure.

  So far, every possible lead had been futile. And I was growing more frustrated by the day.

  Across from me in my antechamber, the captain stood, awaiting my permission to deliver the latest news on Princess Constance. I finally leaned back in my stiff chair. “Do you have good news for me, Captain? You must know I am weary of the failures. If you had not worked so faithfully for so many years, I would have hanged and replaced you by now.”

  “I have both good and bad news, Your Majesty.” Theobald’s severe expression remained unchanged. If my words bothered him, he was adept at hiding his feelings.

  I rolled the key over and over in my hands, praying somehow the key itself would speak to me and reveal whatever I was meant to know. I might be obsessed, but Sister Katherine’s words from many years ago still haunted me, the words she’d spoken to me the day I’d captured and imprisoned her in the tower. The princesses will have Solomon’s treasure to aid them, and there will be nothing you can do to stop them.

  Princess Constance wouldn’t have access to the treasure now that I had her key. But neither would I be able to get the treasure until I had the other two keys.

  Curse the person who had divided the keys among the princesses. They were supposed to stay together and had remained together for centuries. In fact, when King Alfred the Peacemaker had divided the kingdom between his twin daughters, he’d kept the keys together. Of course, he should have given them to his oldest daughter, Queen Margery, my grandmother. Instead, he’d allowed the younger twin, Queen Leandra, to become the keeper of the keys.

  As the younger twin, Leandra shouldn’t have been given anything, neither land nor keys. I’d spent my years on the throne accomplishing what others in my family hadn’t been able to do. I’d restored the order of birthright, regained Mercia, and united the kingdom. Now my last task was to bring the keys back together. They belonged to my lineage.

  I placed the key into the leather pouch at my side and closed it tight. I would find the other keys. And once I did, I would finally begin the quest to unearth Solomon’s treasure. It was something I’d dreamed about my entire life, something I’d longed to do ever since I’d first learned about the ancient wealth.

  It didn’t matter that throughout the ages many other kings had searched for the treasure and hadn’t located it. At least none had ever recorded finding anything. And it didn’t matter that an old prophecy foretold a young wise ruler who would use the treasure to rid the land of evil. At forty-seven, I was still young and determined enough. Eventually, I would become the most powerful king in the world since King Solomon.

  I gestured impatiently at Theobald. “Well, get on with it. What is your news?”

  The jagged scar on the captain’s cheek twitched, the only sign of his discomfort. “The Princess Constance is married.”

  I slammed my hand on my writing table, irritation flaring to life and causing my head to pound with the beginning of an all-too-familiar ache. “You were not able to prevent this?”

  “I sent my secret guards just as soon as we received news of her betrothal, but she married the Earl of Langley within a week, and the men were too late to stop the ceremony.” The captain stared straight ahead.

  I mulled over the news of the princess’s marriage, steepling my fingers against my beard. If she was married, then she would be of no use to me anymore. A union with the Earl of Langley posed no threat. He may have made a name for himself as a skilled warrior in Norland and had King Draybane’s ear, but he was insignificant in the greater scheme of things.

  In fact, the princess had aligned herself with a nobody when she could have formed a marriage alliance with the Franks—her mother’s relatives. Instead, she was in Norland with King Draybane, who was a weak man with no ambition. If not for the Highlands along the northern border, I would have conquered Norland long ago.

  I’d resorted to raiding Norland ships and coastal cities, until King Draybane had hired mercenaries to protect his towns. Only recently I’d learned Christopher Langley was one of those mercenaries. If I’d discovered that earlier, I might have questioned the Earl of Langley and his wife more carefully. As it was, I’d presumed the earl was a loyal and trusted advisor when really he�
��d been hiding the oldest princess all these years.

  I seethed every time I thought about the earl’s betrayal. With anger stirring in my gut, I stood and stalked to the antechamber’s only window, the one that overlooked the training ground for the elite guards. Ethelrex was in the middle of a sword drill. His tall, strong, and fierce stature stood out from the rest.

  I watched him easily deflect the blows of the men fighting around him, and my chest swelled with pride. In the few months he’d been in Delsworth, he had proven himself to be dedicated to the kingdom and loyal to me. During his infrequent visits over the years, I’d feared that perhaps he’d be too soft, like his mother, and that Magnus would be a better heir.

  But now I’d put my concerns to rest, especially with his willingness to obey me in everything I asked of him, even in marrying the enemy.

  He was the solution to the growing unrest among the people. His marriage to one of the lost princesses would surely placate the people. How could they complain if one of their own was back on the throne and in line to become the next queen?

  “We need to find another lost princess for the crown prince to marry.”

  “We shall, Your Majesty,” Theobald responded. “The good news is that our tracking dogs have finally picked up Sister Katherine’s scent again.”

  “Do you think she will lead you to one of the other princesses?”

  “It’s what we’re hoping for.”

  We’d hoped Princess Constance would lead us to her sisters. At the very least, I’d expected Lord Mitchell would release information on their whereabouts of his own volition. As it turned out, he hadn’t divulged anything helpful, even when Theobald had used his most persuasive methods for extracting secrets. Either Lord Mitchell hadn’t known any more details about the princesses, or he’d been stronger than I’d assumed. Not many could withstand the captain’s torture.

  Sister Katherine had been one of the few to do so.

  “Do not lose the nun’s trail,” I cautioned the captain.

  “We won’t.”

  “Shall I remind you of all that is at stake if you fail?”

  The captain opened his mouth to respond but then closed it tightly. He knew as well as I did that we could not fail to track down the other lost princesses. We must find them. No matter the cost.

  Foremost Contents

  Half-Title

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter

  1

  Maribel

  I crouched next to Edmund behind the boulder. The harpy eagle circled overhead, her gray-and-white markings blending with the frosty winter sky.

  “She is beautiful today,” I whispered reverently, my breath rising in a puff and freezing on my already-chilled cheeks.

  Focused on Sheba, Edmund was lost in silent communication with the mighty bird of prey. As a Fera Agmen—an animal trainer—Edmund had raised Sheba from the moment she’d hatched five years past, and the two had a special bond I’d always admired.

  The Highlands stretched out below us as far as the eye could see. The desolate, mountainous terrain was covered in a thin blanket of snow and ice, broken by sharp, rocky crags and the rare deciduous, now leafless and gray. A few evergreens—hemlock and spruce—stood in remote clusters like sentinels guarding the convent.

  “Has she found the valerian yet?” I rubbed my mittened hands together for warmth.

  “Patience, Maribel,” Edmund whispered, his eyes still trained on the enormous eagle. He had every right to be exasperated with me, but his voice remained level and calm.

  Patience wasn’t one of my strengths, although I’d tried hard to cultivate it. I pressed my hand against the outline of my rosary and crucifix beneath my heavy woolen cloak, reminding me to pray. I had only six months until I turned eighteen and became eligible to take my vows and become a nun, but I had much growing to do before I’d be ready for the honor.

  I lifted a silent petition that God would help me curb my faults, for I wanted nothing more than to take my vows and spend my life serving Him in the convent.

  Edmund rose and whistled through his teeth. The call was lilting and commanding at the same time, a wordless language belonging to the eagles, one he’d learned and perfected during his years of apprenticeship as a Fera Agmen.

  I followed Sheba’s wide circle above a copse of spruce until she swept down and disappeared among the branches. I was ashamed to admit that, if not for Edmund, I likely would have gone down the mountain to pluck the valerian myself, heedless of the strict boundaries set by the abbess.

  I’d done so a time or two or even three when my medicinal supplies had run low and I’d needed one of the rare herbs that grew in the Highlands—one I didn’t cultivate in the convent’s boxed gardens. I only went beyond the boundaries on those days when the nuns’ rules felt especially suffocating. Most often, like today, I obeyed and enlisted Edmund’s assistance.

  Stretching to my full height, I waited beside Edmund, my shoulder almost brushing his. He was taller than I was by a thumb’s length. Thin and wiry, he didn’t appear brawny. But all his years of sword drills with Wade had made him stronger than he looked. He hadn’t developed into the serious soldier Wade had desired. But he was proficient with weapons, which was why the sisters allowed me to go out with him.

  Of course, Edmund’s friendship with a number of animals in the Highlands made him even more of a protector, especially when so many wild and dangerous creatures roamed this part of Mercia.

  Besides, Edmund was one of my dearest friends, along with Colette. The three of us were all orphans, having arrived at the convent after King Ethelwulf’s invasion of Mercia. We’d lost our parents during the bloodbath that followed when the king had slain entire noble families in order to ensure loyalty to himself. Someone had brought me to Sister Agnes when she’d lived at St Cuthbert’s in the eastern Iron Hills. From there, Sister Agnes had carried me to refuge at St. Anne’s.

  We hadn’t stayed at St. Anne’s long before we’d moved again—several more times—before finally joining a handful of other sisters fleeing the king’s persecution. We’d formed a new convent among the natural caves in the Highlands in a spot so remote no one had discovered our presence there during the past seventeen years.

  Wade was the only one who ever went down from the high country, and he only left twice a year to purchase provisions we couldn’t make or grow for ourselves. I couldn’t deny that in recent years I’d watched his tall, strong figure hiking down the rocky path with more than a little longing to go with him. I’d tried to dampen that sinful desire to see beyond the Highlands, to walk in the Iron Cities, take a boat down the Cress River, and eventually reach the royal city of Delsworth on the East Sea.

  However, no matter how hard I attempted to squelch my wish to see more of the world, much to my dismay, the desire had only grown. I needed to be content with the solitary existence we had in our lonely caves. I needed to appreciate the simplicity of life here and even the hardships—of which there were plenty. I needed to be grateful for the small group of people I could call my family. Even if Sister Agnes had passed away two years ago, I still had the other dear nuns who had become loving mothers to me.

  I was blessed. I couldn’t forget it.

  Even now, I was blessed because Edmund was so willing to endure my many whims and faults. I hadn’t required the
valerian today. Yes, I was running low in my supply. But more than that, I’d longed to get outside for a while, to feel the cold sting of air against my nose and cheeks, to drag in deep lungsful of the thin mountain air, and to see the openness of the wild, but beautiful land.

  As a postulant preparing to become a nun, I was required to adhere to the strict rules and prayer schedule of the convent. I had less freedom now than as a child, and rightly so. Nevertheless, I was thankful Edmund gave in to my herb-hunting requests as often as he could.

  Edmund shifted his gaze to me, his bay-leaf-green eyes dark with understanding. “Sheba will have it soon.”

  “She knows she must get the root of the plant, does she not?”

  “She’s done it before, Maribel.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He focused his attention on the spruce grove concealing Sheba. At twenty-one his profile had long since lost its boyishness and was now sharply defined with an aristocratic nose and chin. His hair, which had once been as light and fair as mine, had ripened into a warm brown. Concealed beneath the hood of his heavy cloak, it was still as straight and fine as it had always been, long and tied back with a leather strip. The winter wind had teased strands loose, and they blew across his cheek.

  Even though we both came from noble families, over the years he’d adopted the role of a lay worker, joining Wade in taking care of the livestock, creating and repairing our iron tools, cookware, and utensils, and hunting and fishing for game. Perhaps this wasn’t the life either of us had been born to lead, but we knew no other. And we were happy.

  Weren’t we?

  I wrapped my cloak tighter around my formless gray habit and let my gaze linger on the rocky horizon. “Have you ever thought of what life would be like out there?”

  He followed my gaze. “You know I haven’t.”

  In spite of having the conversation on previous occasions, I was sure one of these times his answer might be different. “Not even a little?”

  “I’m content here.” He slanted a sideways look at me.