The Lost Princesses Medieval Romance Collection

by Jody Hedlund

  Now I understood why Queen Adelaide needed me. She not only needed my key, but she needed my piece of the treasure map.

  “But a maze?” I asked. “Yes, there are likely nobility who have erected mazes in their gardens. But this is one of great magnitude.” The parchment contained hundreds of paths. “I cannot think of any place big enough, other than Inglewood Forest. Do you suppose the maze is there?”

  “If it is, then it would be overgrown and nearly impossible to find.” Edmund stared at the map, his brows knit.

  I forced myself to concentrate likewise. “What if there was a maze long ago, one that has since been destroyed or covered much like St. Cuthbert’s original structure?”

  Edmund’s eyes sparkled. “The Labyrinth of Death. What if the map is the solution to the Labyrinth of Death?”

  “I have never heard of a labyrinth in Mercia—”

  “It’s in the western Highlands, deep underground.”

  “How do you know?”

  “How do I know most of the geography of Mercia?” he asked.

  “Wade.” We said the warrior’s name at the same time and then both smiled.

  “The Labyrinth of Death has become the tale of legends and myths,” Edmund continued, “but Wade taught me its location anyway, likely in the event we needed another hiding place.”

  “Then you could lead us there?” I asked, sitting forward.

  The excitement upon his countenance dimmed. “No, Maribel. It would do no good to make the trip. If it does exist, we will only get lost inside without the other segments of the map to guide us. That’s why it’s called the Labyrinth of Death. Because so many people wandered within its depths and were never able to find their way out.”

  “But we have a partial map—”

  “And there’s rumored to be a creature living in the bowels of the labyrinth—a deadly creature who captures and kills anyone who crosses its path.”

  “If we could face all those spiders, we can survive one deadly creature in the labyrinth.”

  “I gave Sister Katherine my word I’d take you to Norland, and that is where we must go.”

  “No harm would come of passing by the labyrinth on our way. Surely ’twould not delay us overlong.”

  He started to shake his head.

  “We would not have to go inside,” I added. “We could simply take a look around and then hasten onward.”

  He sighed, but I could see the excitement in his eyes as he studied the pattern of the maze. He was just as interested as I was in having adventures. He simply needed a nudge to fly out of the nest.

  I stood. “The matter is settled. We shall discover if a labyrinth still exists. If so, such information will be valuable to relate to my sister once we arrive in Norland.”

  When he didn’t protest, I smiled to myself. Edmund might be more reserved and careful than I was. But most of the time, we were of one mind and soul. I didn’t want to lose that connection—didn’t want to lose him. Yet somehow I sensed him slipping through my fingers, and no matter how hard I tried to hang on, I had the feeling I was losing him anyway.

  Chapter

  8

  Edmund

  I could sense Sheba’s fear. Her motions had become more forceful and erratic. The moonlight revealed her flying overhead in circles as I led Maribel along the hidden paths back to the convent. The eagle’s fear had been palpable since the moment she’d come to me in the hunter’s cave hours ago.

  I’d hoped the further we traveled away from St. Cuthbert’s and Ethelwulf’s men, the calmer she’d grow. But her agitation had remained, making me more alert and on edge. Although the darkness of the winter night hid us well, I maintained a high level of awareness at every noise, scent, movement.

  Sister Katherine had told us to leave within two days. I’d assumed we would be fairly safe until then and hadn’t covered our scent as well as I could have. But apparently, Ethelwulf’s men were closer than she’d anticipated.

  Why hadn’t Sister Katherine done a better job of masking her trail? Even as frustration coursed through my veins, I guessed the old nun had likely done the best she could, but her age and frailties had likely made the travel difficult and all too easy for Ethelwulf’s men to follow no matter how well she attempted to evade them.

  As usual, Maribel rode and chattered as though she hadn’t a care in the world. She was oblivious to the danger closing in on us, which was just as well. There was no need to worry her. Not when I didn’t have anything but Sheba’s fear and the earlier sighting of horse prints to give credence to my anxiety.

  “Wait until Colette sees the piece of the maze we found,” Maribel was saying. “I wonder if she could recreate the other part of it for us?”

  Colette was especially talented with artistry. After working at the loom most of the day, she spent her free time drawing and painting on the convent walls. She’d accomplished detailed murals of biblical scenes over the past few years. She’d even used my face for one of Noah’s sons surrounded by animals. I thought I saw myself in several of her other murals, but not quite as distinctly as the portrait of Noah’s son. At the time, I’d been flattered. But Wade’s recent comments about Colette had been nagging me.

  You should just ask that poor girl to marry you and put her out of her misery. That girl would do anything you asked of her. Colette loves you already and won’t break your heart.

  Had Colette’s infatuation existed all along? Maybe I’d been too blind to see it, the same way Maribel was ignorant of my feelings. I couldn’t fault Maribel for not knowing or reciprocating any more than Colette could blame me for the same.

  I swallowed a sigh. My desire and feelings for Maribel were getting harder to contain, especially whenever she touched me. And now she knew something was wrong, had even apologized and said she would try to be a better friend.

  I had to stop reacting to her, had to stay platonic, had to mask all that I felt. Obviously, if she didn’t harbor affection for me, she couldn’t summon it forth. I certainly couldn’t for Colette.

  “Is the map symmetrical?” Maribel asked. “If so, then the top would likely be a mirror image of the bottom. Surely Colette could draw it.”

  “I think it would be wise for us to keep the discovery of the map a secret,” I replied. “Just between you and me. At least for now.”

  “But Colette will already be peeved at me for not inviting her to come along on our trip to St. Cuthbert’s. I cannot bear to think of hurting her even further.”

  “She may be insulted, but she’ll mend easily enough.” Colette had a way of pouting at the smallest slights. It annoyed me more than I cared to admit.

  Colette was still debating whether to take her vows and become a nun. She hadn’t made up her mind yet the way Maribel had. Was it because she hoped I’d marry her?

  I nearly coughed at the realization. Maybe I needed to speak frankly with her and let her know she shouldn’t harbor any plans of a future with me. Then she could move on and decide what she really wanted to do with her life.

  Maribel blew into her hands for warmth and rubbed her mittens together. The cold was taking its toll on her, but as usual, she never complained. Thankfully, we were almost home. “Do you think we should invite Colette to journey to Norland with us? She would enjoy the adventure, would she not?”

  “The journey to Norland will be fraught with many dangers. Colette will be safer at the convent, and we’ll be able to travel faster without her.”

  “What kind of dangers?” Maribel’s tone seemed nonchalant, as though she was asking about the weather instead of life-threatening situations. How much should I share with her? I didn’t want to upset her with the possibility that Ethelwulf would probably do everything within his power to capture and kill her. If his men were already in the area, from here on out, we would have to travel hard and cover our trail well to avoid them.

  Before I could formulate a truthful but nonthreatening answer, I sensed increased tension in the air. At first, I thought Sheba
was flying close and communicating with me, her agitation emanating with the flap of her wings. But then I realized the new sense of fear and turmoil was lower to the ground. At a nearby yip, I reined my horse.

  “What is it?” Maribel halted several feet ahead.

  “Barnabas is out.” The wolf I’d raised made his home close enough that we still saw each other regularly and maintained a connection even after he’d found a mate last spring and had a litter of pups. Late in the summer, one of the pups had wandered off and had fallen into a tight ravine. Barnabas had come to me for help, and I’d been able to rescue the wayward wolf.

  Ever since, I sensed Barnabas wanted to find a way to repay me for my good deed. And though I’d reassured him that I expected nothing from him, he’d watched over me more diligently lately, and tonight I felt his concern in its full force.

  “How does Barnabas fare?” Maribel asked affectionately. “I pray all is well.”

  I glanced around the darkened crags eager for a glimpse of the animal’s glowing eyes or his outline in the moonlight. But I saw nothing and realized he was likely staying hidden so he wouldn’t draw undue attention to himself or his family.

  He yipped several high notes and then gave a low growl. He was warning me of impending danger, telling me to protect my family the same as he was doing.

  I yipped back, hoping he would divulge more. But only silence and stillness greeted me, the sign Barnabas had done what he’d come to do and left.

  Were we walking into a trap? Was the convent even now besieged by Ethelwulf’s guards awaiting our return? Surely not. Sheba had seen the men riding away, and I’d clearly seen the tracks heading in the direction of St. Cuthbert’s.

  I slid from my mount and reached to help Maribel down. “We’ll tie the horses over beyond Eagle’s Ledge and approach the convent from the south.”

  Maribel allowed me to hoist her out of her saddle and set her on the rocky ground. “Is there a problem?”

  “There may be,” I whispered. “I want to take precautions just in case.”

  We secured our mounts in a safe place, and then I led the way around the convent, creeping low to the ground. As we finally neared the south path, the moonlight revealed horse and boot prints in the dusting of snow that remained. They were the same tracks I’d seen earlier in the day, which meant only one thing. The band of men had come here first—likely looking for Maribel.

  Was it possible they hadn’t picked up our trail but rather someone had told them where we’d gone?

  I shook my head. No one but Wade knew our destination. And he’d likely informed the sisters we’d left for Norland.

  When we reached a large rock a dozen paces from the entrance, I caught the movement of a shadow in the half-open doorway. I tugged Maribel down into a crouch next to me. In the stillness of the night, her breathing was too loud.

  “Do you see—” she whispered before I clamped my gloved hand over her mouth.

  In the darkness, I could sense more than see her eyes widening in surprise. I leaned into her ear and spoke as quietly as possible. “Be wary and silent.”

  She nodded.

  Slowly, I released her. Something was definitely wrong. Wade would never open the door halfway, not even a crack. And if there was a hint of danger, he would have been outside keeping guard. He’d have seen us coming long before we’d seen him and would have met me by now.

  My fingers circled the handle of my knife in an automatic reflex. Behind me to the north, I sensed Sheba’s hovering tension even though she was silent.

  We should have gone straight to Norland. I admonished myself as I scanned the surrounding boulders. It wasn’t too late to circle the convent, return to our horses, and be on our way. I touched Maribel’s arm and signaled that we were leaving.

  Before she could protest, another motion in the doorway drew my attention. A cloaked figure slipped outside and hesitated, looking first one way and then the other. Although the darkness shrouded the person, the diminutive frame and movements gave her away.

  “Colette?” Maribel whispered, surprise echoing like a thunderclap.

  At the mention of her name, Colette swiveled in our direction.

  What was Colette doing out at this hour of the night? I glanced around again, almost irritably. And where was Wade?

  Next to me, Maribel started to rise.

  I swung out my arm and stopped her, flattening her against the stone. “Stay here until I motion that you are safe to leave.”

  She didn’t respond, except with increasing stiffness in her body, signaling her protest.

  “Please, Maribel,” I whispered even as I focused on Colette, who took a hesitant step nearer. “Let me find out what’s going on before you come out of hiding.”

  Maribel released an exasperated sigh. “’Tis only Colette.”

  “I’ll talk to her first and discover all that’s transpired while we’ve been gone.”

  “Very well.”

  I crept out from behind the rock and sidled toward another large boulder. Once I was securely behind it, I leaned forward. “Colette. Here.”

  She spun and started toward me, her footsteps rushed, almost frantic. Something was most definitely wrong.

  When she swerved and almost passed me in the darkness, I snaked out an arm, caught her, and pulled her behind the rock with me.

  “Oh, Edmund,” Colette whispered, her voice threaded with fear and desperation. She threw herself against me, her small body trembling. I drew her into an embrace, knowing I had to be more cautious about leading her to believe I cared beyond our friendship. But at the moment, I sensed her distress and could do nothing less than offer my comfort.

  “What is amiss?” I asked. “And where’s Wade?”

  She released a soft, strangled sob. “He’s dead.”

  Chills skittered across my flesh.

  “He tried to fight the king’s men and held them off for hours,” she said in a rushed whisper, “but his injuries made him weak.”

  In a flash, I pictured Wade standing at the mouth of the cave fending away man after man, his face set like flint, his body steel, his eyes burning like fire. He would have been fierce.

  A rush of sorrow pierced my chest, but now was neither the time nor place to grieve for Wade. He’d given his life to protect the convent, the sisters, and Maribel. Now the least I could do was step in and do the same, which meant I needed to clear my mind of all emotions and focus on the present so I was aware of everything at all times.

  I glanced around, noting for the first time the traces of blood that remained from the battle scene. “Where are the bodies of the slain?”

  “The king’s men took them away.” Her arms tightened around me, and she burrowed her face into my chest.

  “Everyone else in the convent? The sisters?”

  Colette hesitated, and in that instant, I was wary again. I released her so I could assess her more fully. The moonlight didn’t afford much light, but it was enough for me to see her features were taut with worry and something else. Was it guilt?

  “The soldiers threatened some of the sisters,” she whispered. “But no one is seriously hurt.”

  More chills raced over my skin, and my mind wanted to travel back in time to that terrible day when my entire family had been marched out of the dungeons to the center of Delsworth. Images flashed through my conscience—the threats, the torture, the gruesome bloodshed. But I rapidly slammed the door in my mind, surprised it had opened even a crack when I’d so carefully kept the memories locked up all these years.

  I hadn’t wanted to remember the gentle, kind face of my mother, my two older sisters, or my two brothers. Seventeen years of shoving away every thought of them had erased their images from my mind. I could hardly picture what they looked like anymore. I only had the vague recollection that as the youngest, I’d been well loved by my siblings and parents alike. And I’d had a grandfather who’d been kind to me. But I didn’t like remembering him either.

  The people
at the convent were my family now, the only family I needed or wanted.

  “You’re unharmed?” I forced myself to focus on Colette. “You weren’t threatened, were you?”

  “No.” Her voice wavered just enough for me to know she wasn’t sharing the entire truth.

  “Colette,” I whispered urgently, glancing around again. I had a sudden feeling of being caged. “You need to tell me everything.”

  When she followed my gaze, a terrible premonition tightened my chest. It constricted even more when guilt began to radiate from her eyes and tears brimmed over.

  I grasped her arms and almost shook her. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I didn’t know what else to do,” she whispered, the tears coursing down her cheeks. “The captain was getting ready to sever Sister Ingrid’s fingers. I had to tell him what I knew. I couldn’t just stand by and watch her suffer.”

  My heart dipped into my stomach. “What did you tell the captain?”

  “That you and Maribel went to St. Cuthbert’s.”

  “How did you know—”

  “I overheard you talking in the chapel.”

  I tried to absorb what she was telling me, but Sheba released a low, urgent call—one that told me I was in trouble.

  “Some of the king’s men are still here, aren’t they?” My words came out hard. She started to shake her head in denial, but then slowly nodded, letting her shoulders droop in a motion of defeat.

  “You betrayed Maribel and me,” I hissed.

  “No, I am saving us all.” She reached out to grab my arm. “The captain promised if I cooperated, we would all remain unharmed.”

  A short distance away, I heard Maribel gasp. She’d likely been listening to every word of our conversation. And now she knew we were trapped. I had no doubt the king’s men were closing in on us even as we stood in the dark.

  I released two soft whistles to Sheba, praying there were no Fera Agmen among the ranks of Ethelwulf’s guard who’d be able to decipher what I’d just instructed the eagle to do.