by Jody Hedlund
My shoulders slumped. For a moment, the weight of my failure pressed heavily upon me. I hadn’t become the courageous woman they’d worked hard to develop.
At the slight crack of a step to my left, I dodged away and broke through the brush into the clearing. One of the guards was already pulling the rope attached to my father, dragging him up so that his feet no longer touched the ground. His arms stretched tightly above him, the twine digging into his wrists. Though he kept all emotion from his face, the tightening of his torso told me of the pain he was already experiencing.
A soldier had strung another rope and was beginning to tie my mother’s hands above her head. At the sight of me racing across the grassy yard, her eyes widened, revealing panic. “Emmeline! Please! Go!”
I picked up my pace, my attention homing in on the rope holding my father. I’d already unsheathed the small knife Father had insisted I always carry with me. While I’d long past vowed I wouldn’t use it for harm, I’d found it was useful from time to time for cutting roots or shaving bark or even some whittling.
Now I was glad more than ever Father had made me wear it. I aimed at the rope and threw it. In one swift slice, it severed the twine, and Father dropped to the ground. He was on his feet in an instant, his eyes upon my knife, which had embedded into the trunk.
Before he could figure out a way to retrieve the weapon, however, the daunting captain of the guard grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerked his head back, and laid a sharp blade against his neck. It pierced Father’s skin, quickly drawing blood.
“No!” I halted and held out a hand, not realizing it was trembling until too late. “Don’t hurt him!”
The commander didn’t budge. Only his gaze flicked behind me. His men had followed me out of the woods and now stood a short distance around me, and he’d communicated something to them. Had he told them to draw closer and grab me?
The captain turned his attention back to me, and for an endless moment, he took me in from my boy’s cap down to my boots. His eyes were a vivid blue, the same as the clear evening sky overhead. But they were unreadable, like my father’s. If he was curious, surprised, or even appalled to find me attired as a boy, I couldn’t tell.
I suppose it didn’t matter to him what I looked like. His assignment was merely to bring me to the king in Delsworth. If Father was correct, the king would marry me off to his son, the crown prince, with the hope that such a union would undermine the rebellion.
Perhaps if I cooperated for the time being, I’d not only save my parents, but I’d find a way to free myself from the clutches of these soldiers, hopefully before we were out of Inglewood Forest.
The commander watched my expression carefully.
“Release them,” I said. “If you bring them no more harm, I shall accompany you without further resistance.”
Father said something behind his gag. Of course, I couldn’t make out his words, but the message within his eyes was loud enough. He didn’t want me to give in.
“Please try to understand,” I said to him. “I had to come back. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, knowing I allowed you to suffer.”
Father tried to speak again, his eyes pleading with me. Could I somehow make him realize this was the best way to save us all for now? That soon enough I’d find a way back to him?
“Bede.” My faithful companion was right by my side, his low snarl warning the soldiers to keep their distance. I tangled my fingers in his fur. “You and Mother will keep Bede.”
At my unthinkable offer, Mother’s gaze snapped to mine. I’d raised the fox since finding him as a wee motherless pup. We’d never been apart. Ever. Bede went with me everywhere. If I willingly left my dearest and most beloved friend, surely they could comprehend my unspoken message—that I’d never leave him behind if I didn’t plan on returning.
Father gave me the barest of nods, which told me he finally understood and that he trusted me to find a way to escape.
“Release them,” I said again to the commander. “You vowed you would let them go unharmed if I handed myself over to you.”
“And are you handing yourself over, Princess?” he replied in a strangely disquieting tone. “Or are you planning to run once I free them?”
I lifted my chin, hoping he couldn’t see how close he’d come to the truth. “Of course I’m handing myself over. I could have easily escaped your men if I’d so chosen.”
He watched me a moment longer, and I forced myself not to squirm under his scrutiny. He was rather bold for a captain of the guard.
“Prove your cooperation.” He shifted the blade lower on my father’s neck, nicking the skin and drawing more blood. “Go change into clothing suitable for a princess and pack any items you wish to take with you. For every misstep you make, I shall press my knife deeper.”
His voice was cold and held no room for bargaining. Everything about this man, from his arrogant bearing to his hard demeanor, testified of his leadership and his ability to command unquestioning obedience.
Though he frightened me, and I feared he’d slit my father’s throat regardless of what I did or didn’t do, I had to remember I was a princess, of royal blood. My status was far superior to his. He wouldn’t dare harm me. Not as long as the king needed me. Not even if I tried to flee a hundred times.
The trick was figuring out a way to keep this guard from hurting my parents.
Chapter
4
Rex
When Emmeline emerged from the cottage a short while later, I appraised her again. In spite of an ugly skirt that appeared as though it had been laundered in a cesspit, she was still stunning.
Without the boy’s cap, I could see that her hair was as dark as a raven, the color matching her long eyelashes. While her hair was still bundled in a messy knot, a few strands had come loose and fluttered about her face. I suspected her tresses were long and thick and wavy and would add to her beauty—if it were possible for her to be more beautiful.
The simple truth was that I’d never met a young woman even half as lovely as Emmeline, and I’d certainly met many noblewomen over the past year. From the moment I’d spotted her through the brush, I’d known her delicate, exquisite features belonged to the princess. It was almost laughable that she’d believed a boy’s cap and breeches could fool anyone.
I’d been impressed by her speed when she’d come out of the woods to save Lance. I’d even been slightly impressed by her ability to throw her knife with such accuracy. But I hadn’t been surprised. Lance had trained her to protect herself just as any good elite guard would have done who’d been guarding the princess.
Her keen eyes assessed first Lance and then Felicia. Though I hadn’t wanted to gag Felicia, I’d had to do so to prevent her from further communicating with the princess and attempting to make plans. Then my men had bound them each to different trees. They’d used many ropes and tied complicated knots that would be difficult to undo. But I suspected Lance would be able to free himself within a day. A day was a far enough lead that we’d be well on our way back to Delsworth with the princess, and he’d never be able to catch up.
The rich dark brown of Emmeline’s eyes was expressive—probably more so than she realized, giving away her feelings quite easily. And as she paused to set down her full sack and take in the state of her guardians’ well-being, her relief was palpable. She’d clearly been worried I’d slit open Lance’s throat during her absence. No doubt she considered me a brute.
I suppose I couldn’t blame her. After all, I’d used Lance and Felicia to bring her into compliance. Once we were away from Inglewood Forest, and especially once we were back at the royal residence, I’d work at changing her opinion of me and find a way to win her affection. Eventually, she’d even be grateful to me for sparing Lance and Felicia when many others in my position would have killed them on the spot.
Yes, I’d have a challenge in wooing her. But I always relished challenges, and this would be one I’d especially enjoy. For now, however, I had t
o keep up a show of strength and power, even if she temporarily despised me for it.
Dante reached for the princess’s sack only to have the fox snap at him. She bent and gently touched the creature’s head, and he immediately calmed.
“Let Dante search your bag,” I ordered.
She lifted her chin. “I have no other weapons besides the knife, which it appears you now have.”
I’d sheathed it with mine, not sure if I’d eventually return it to her or not. Would we ever come to the point of being able to trust each other? I prayed so but knew it would take time and effort.
Dante took hold of the sack again, and this time the fox allowed it. When he flipped it over and began dumping the contents, she yanked the sack away from him, her eyes flashing and her body bristling. “How dare you?”
Books littered the ground, most of them worn and falling apart. Pages of parchment came loose from several and fluttered in the breeze. She dropped to her knees and gathered the pages, tossing a glare at Dante. “Have you no care? These are worth more than gold.”
“We cannot take the books.” I approached her. “Only clothing and personal necessities.”
“My books are my necessities.”
I halted next to her and snatched up a drawing that resembled a maze—a very large and intricate maze.
Upon seeing what I’d picked up, she sprang up and lunged for the paper, leaving me with no doubt that this was a map of great importance.
I held it high out of reach.
“That’s mine.”
“It’s mine now.” I started to fold it, hoping it was indeed a map to the Labyrinth of Death, which was a maze in the Highlands that had been discovered over the winter.
She glared at me now too, and her anger only made her more stunning. The brown of her eyes turned almost ebony, and the pulse in her neck beat harder, drawing my attention to the graceful and elegant lines.
Under different circumstances, I might have allowed her beauty and anger to sway me to let her keep a few of her books. But with the closing of the evening soon upon us, I couldn’t afford to waste time sparring. Instead, I bent and swiftly slit the leather strap of the pouch in her pocket and snatched it up before she knew what I was doing.
She grabbed it quicker than I’d expected. “Give that to me at once!”
I wrenched it free of her fingers and then held it out of her reach as I’d done with the map. From the corner of my eye, I could see Lance shaking his head and attempting to say something to Emmeline, confirming my suspicion that whatever was in the pouch was important.
“I demand you return it to me this instant.” She clawed at my arm, and her fox crouched low, snarling at me.
In addition to a small book, I traced the hard contour of a key through the leather. A brief glance inside showed me the large gold key that matched the one the king already had. Before the princess could wrestle the pouch away, I stuffed it, along with the map, down my tunic behind my chain mail then dropped my hands to my side, daring—no, inviting—her to retrieve the items.
But as I suspected would happen, the princess immediately ceased her efforts and merely stared at the bulging spot on my chest, her eyes rounding. She was innocent and unaccustomed to men, to be sure.
“We must go.” I eyed her now empty sack lying on the ground. There was no sense in wasting time sending her back into the cottage to repack. I suspected any other garments she had would be in the same condition, if not worse than what she was wearing. She’d need a completely new wardrobe when we arrived in Delsworth, something worthy of a future queen.
Once again, she knelt and began to pick up the books, dusting them off and carefully stacking them.
“Say your good-byes,” I ordered.
She ignored me, tucking pages back into one particularly old book.
I planted my feet wider, crossed my arms, and narrowed my eyes—a look that never failed to make men quiver.
“I will pack my books first,” she said.
“You are not bringing them.”
“Yes. I must.”
“No.”
She glanced up at me, her eyes dark again and flashing, her chin jutting stubbornly. “Yes.”
With a growl, I reached for her, scooped her up, and tossed her over my shoulder.
“Put me down!” She wiggled within my grip, attempting to slither down.
I tightened my hold and stalked toward the woodland while she pounded on my back with her fists and tried to kick her feet against my ribs, this time attempting to use the strength in her torso to free herself. She exerted more force than I’d expected, but she was no match for me, and I continued forward without faltering in my stride.
I wanted to make it back to our camp before nightfall. Since my men could pack up and be mounted in little time, I hoped we’d be out of Inglewood Forest—at least the better part of it—by sun’s first light. Now that I had the princess, we’d be safest out of the forest, away from the land she knew, for I suspected that if she broke free, she’d do her best to make sure we didn’t find her again.
Besides, it wouldn’t be long before the queen’s rebel search party discovered we had the princess. When they did, they’d try everything possible to catch up and take her away.
At a sharp bite of teeth in my calf, I pinned Emmeline with one hand and with the other unsheathed my sword and swung it back.
“No!” she screamed. “Please don’t!”
I paused, giving her the chance to save her fox’s life.
“Bede, go back!” she shouted at the fox. “Go back to Mother and Father, and stay with them.”
The red fox continued to bound through the tall grass behind us. The creature was as loyal as a dog, if not more so. I hoped for Emmeline’s sake he would obey her. I didn’t want to injure—or kill—her pet. But I couldn’t have him following and slowing us down.
“Go home, Bede!” she called again, and this time her voice cracked. “Go! Now!”
The fox finally stopped. I could picture his eyes upon Emmeline, probably confused and worried. A thin needle of guilt pricked me. I was taking the princess away from everyone and everything she’d loved and doing so against her will.
As I headed into the forest, for just a second I was tempted to put her down and let her say a proper good-bye to her pet and family. But at the sight of my men in my periphery, I put the soft-hearted notion out of my mind.
I was securing the princess for my men and others like them who didn’t deserve to be dragged into a needless war against Queen Adelaide Constance. I was securing the princess for all the people of Bryttania, to keep the land peaceful and prosperous under their rightful ruler. And most of all, I was securing the princess to show my loyalty and worthiness to the king. He was counting on me, and I couldn’t let him down.
“Stay!” she shouted at the fox. When she said nothing more, I knew the fox had listened to her. She’d ceased struggling and had grown limp. At the soft sniffles, the guilt came back with stabbing force. Was Emmeline crying?
A part of me knew I needed to say something. But I sensed anything I offered at this point would only offend her and make her angrier. She needed time to adjust and accept the lot that had befallen her.
“Run ahead,” I called to Dante. “And alert the others to be ready to leave.”
My commander nodded and then picked up his pace, disappearing into the woodland ahead of us.
Even with my extra burden of carrying the princess, we made it back within the hour. Darkness had fallen and several torches had been lit, illuminating the camp and showing we were nearly ready to go. Dante, along with the rest of the men, except for Magnus, were busy tying our belongings to our horses.
At the sight of me, Magnus pushed up from the log he’d been sitting against and came toward me. Father Patrick followed on his heels. The others paused in their work—likely to get their first glimpse of the princess.
Gingerly, I lowered her, guessing that after having her head down for the past hour, s
he’d experience a rush of blood that might make her dizzy. However, the second her feet hit the ground, she launched away from me into the woods, and started to run, the darkness of the forest swallowing her up.
Chapter
5
Emmeline
I grabbed handfuls of my skirt to prevent it from tripping me and wished I’d kept my boy’s clothing on underneath. Even though the way was dark, I’d been plotting my escape route the entire time my captors had hauled me away.
I picked a deer trail slightly to the west of the one we’d traversed, knowing it would lead to the brook at the ravine too. I needed only to reach the steep rocks, cross to the other side, and I’d be free and could make my way to one of the tallest and thickest of trees where the king’s soldiers would never find me.
At the shouts coming from the camp behind me, I pushed myself harder, having only a few seconds’ lead. I was counting on the king’s guards being tired, especially the commander who’d carried me.
My skirt snagged on a branch, but I kept running, wrenching it loose even as part of it tore away. The pounding of the earth behind me, the crashing of limbs, and the snapping of twigs told me soldiers had begun the chase.
For an instant, I considered climbing a tree and hiding up high. But such a move could prove risky. Even if I snaked my way from tree to tree using the branches, the king’s men would hear me and follow my trail, biding their time until I returned to the ground.
At the brush of fingers against my upper arm, I twisted and dodged into a different path. Though the forestland was an inky black and the leaves overhead allowed very little moon or starlight to penetrate, the dense trees and windfall couldn’t slow me down—not when Father had made me practice running in the dark many times. I’d always thought he pushed me too hard, had agreed with Mother that he didn’t have to teach me everything he knew.