His hair was wet and his skin flushed from the heat of the bath. To Alina, he looked more handsome than ever.
In a few long strides, he crossed the kitchen and took her in his arms, dipping his head to press his lips against hers. She was taken aback by the abruptness of it all, but quickly leaned into him, returning the kiss.
“Now then,” he said, breaking away from her, his breath a little heavier than before. “Just one step left. Will you join me outside? The clouds are out, but perhaps the sun will find a hole and peak through.”
“One step left?” she asked. “Edward...”
“Yes.” he said, his arms still about her waist. “I believe I’ve fulfilled the second requirement.”
He didn’t let her think on what he had said, but wrapped his hand about hers and pulled her from the kitchen and out the side door into the snow. The day was overcast with thick gray clouds that spread over the entire sky. Not even a faint outline of the sun could be seen. It didn’t look promising.
❄ ❄ ❄
Edward stared up at the clouds. He felt so invigorated. For the first time in ten years he let himself hope that he might leave these walls and this place. If only the sun would come out, he would be free to leave his cage.
He watched the scarves and handkerchiefs settle on Alina's shoulders, wrapping warm furs around her body to keep out the chill. He declined the warm clothes.
“What if the sun doesn't come out?” Alina asked, her eyes scanning the dark sky.
“It has to eventually,” he said. “Will you wait with me?”
Alina nodded and together they wandered the courtyards, then walked through the gardens to admire the roses that bloomed from beneath the snow. Both of them kept glancing up at the sky, hoping that the clouds would thin, but the day remained as gloomy as ever.
“Edward,” Alina said and gripped his arm tightly. He looked to her worried face and then followed her gaze. From the path in the garden they could see beyond the front gates and down the overgrown road. A swarm of thirty or so men, some on horses, others on foot, were rushing through the snow toward the manor.
“Come on,” he said and grasped her hand, pulling her through the gardens and toward the house. The men reached the gates and slammed against them, rattling the chains. Edward didn’t glance at the mob. His only thought was how to get Alina inside and keep her safe. He led her to the front door and they slipped inside just as a great crash of breaking hinges shattered the air outside.
“They will find us here,” Alina said. “We have to go. Away from the mountain.”
“Go past the dining room and out the kitchen doors,” Edward said, grasping her arms. “When you get outside, go to the stables and ready the horse. I must get the book. If we’re wrong about the curse, we’ll need more information. I’ll get it from the library and sneak out through the ballroom doors, then meet you at the stables.”
“No. They’ll catch you.”
“Alina,” he said calmly. “If the curse can’t be broken and we leave this place, I’m a dead man anyway. You saw what happened last time I left. I won’t last more than a day or two outside these walls.”
She said, nothing but nodded, then kissed him quickly before darting off toward the kitchens.
Edward turned in the opposite direction, sprinting up the stairs toward the library and throwing open the door. Below in the entryway, the mob had pushed through the front doors and their shouts were echoing in the marble halls.
His father’s journal lay where Alina had left it, on top of her notes scattered across one of the tables. He grabbed the book and tucked it in his inside pocket and left the library, then made his way down the hallway toward the ballroom. When he rounded the corner, there were several men coming from the other direction. They must have split into groups and some had entered through the same doors he’d been hoping to escape from.
“Get him!” a voice shouted as the men saw him. The one who had shouted held an iron bar in one hand and pointed at him with the other. Edward was no fighter and there were three of them. His best bet would be to outrun them. Without a second thought, he spun around and headed back the way he came, breaking into a run.
There was a rush of wind and scarves and handkerchiefs, strips of silk, bedsheets, and napkins came streaming down the hallway. He jumped over the discarded library drapes as they unfurled out of the doorway as he passed. Rugs peeled themselves from the floor and tapestries left their walls, their heavy fabric sailing past to join the rest. There were shouts behind him as the men realized that they were being attacked by cloth.
When he reached the top of the entryway stairs, men were already swarming up the steps, nearly at the top. The front doors had been flung open and he could see the snowy courtyard outside. It seemed so close, but there was no way for him to get to it past these men. And even if he did, he would only lead them straight to Alina. Edward stopped in his tracks, unsure which way to turn.
Bursting from the doorways behind him, the fabrics darted through the air, descending on the intruders. Most stopped moving forward, confused by the swaths of cloth flying toward them, leaving Edward a moment of distraction. If he was going to try to get past the mob, it would have to be now.
He kept to the edge of the stairs and several bed sheets darting beside him to shield him from view. Still, one of the villagers—the butcher, based on the sizable cleaver he held in his hands—noticed him trying to make his escape and stopped him on the stairs. Edward didn’t slow and barreled into the man, shoving him aside and watching him tumble down a few of the marble steps. The man let out several shouts as he fell.
More eyes turned to him as Edward leapt over the butcher and continued down the stairs, dodging quilts and furs that were just joining the fray.
When he reached the bottom, he could see the open doors just a few paces ahead, but most of the mob still stood between him and the outside. Many of the fabrics had wrapped themselves tightly around the intruders, preventing some from moving and causing others to lose their balance and fall to the floor. A few men who had escaped the entanglement were swatting at the cloth with their weapons. Every scrap was marked by torn and fraying edges. It was a strange site and more than one of the villagers seemed to be reconsidering their intrusion into this place.
Edward pushed toward the front doors, jumping over a man twisted in curtains. He now regretted not telling Alina to leave, to take the horse and go into the woods. If he were stopped, she’d still be waiting for him and they would find her.
A shout rang out bringing attention back to Edward as he neared the doors.
“Get him!”
It was the same man who had shouted before.
After ducking out of the way of a swinging club, Edward caught hold of a porcelain statuette and smashed it over his attackers head. He was only a step away from the door. Before he could reach it, he was struck with the butt of a pistol, the blow knocking him to the floor.
Blacks and reds sparked in Edward’s vision as he tried to lift himself off the cold tiles. The room went quiet and, looking around, he could see that the fabrics were finished. The men who had been entwined were standing now and the drapes and tapestries lay limp on the floor. Only a few handkerchiefs were still darting about the room but one by one, they too drifted lifelessly to the ground. Edward could hear voices but could not lift his head to see who spoke the words. When he tried to push himself to his knees, a foot was pressed to his back, forcing him to the floor.
“Not so fast,” a voice above him said.
There were mutterings all throughout the entryway as the villagers finally had time to speak.
“What kind of sorcery was that?” one man asked.
“The Devil’s work to be sure,” the butcher said, having recovered from his fall on the stairs. “Look at the marks on his face.”
“Bind him,” said the man with his foot on Edward’s back. “We’ll take him to the village and ask the priest what is to be done. And find my wife. She’s aro
und here somewhere.”
So this was Rodderick.
Edward twisted, flipping onto his back and grabbing the man’s leg, pulling him to the floor. The others reacted in defense of their leader and Edward was quickly pummeled with clubs and fists until he relented, releasing Rodderick’s leg and curling into a ball, unable to move. He could feel bruises already beginning to form and felt swelling over his right eye.
“Pathetic,” Rodderick said, standing and dusting off his trousers. “Once he’s bound, put him on a horse. I’ll find Alina myself.”
Edward’s hands were wrested behind his back and he felt ropes twisted around his wrists and ankles. They dragged him from the entryway and into the cold snow, fighting to stay conscious after the blows to his head. They took him to where the few horses stood outside the gates. When they passed the outer walls, pain instantly overtook him.
Had Alina gotten away? If she had seen them dragging him through the snow, she might still have a chance to hide or escape before they could catch her.
Edward was roughly lifted and thrown over the back of a horse. The blood rushed to his head and the position caused the ropes to dig into his flesh.
Where was Rodderick? If he returned without Alina, he’d know she had escaped. Edward craned his neck, trying to see the mob around him. Someone slapped his head, telling him to keep it down.
The command hurt Edward more than the slap as realization set in. He was a forgotten Duke, attacked by his own people and tossed around like a criminal. This was his curse—the payment for the crime of killing his own father.
Soon he heard a woman’s cries over the men’s voices. Alina had been caught. Edward fought to lift his head again, the veins pulsing where the blood was rushing through his neck. With each beat of his heart, pain pulsed through him too, catching his breath and preventing him from crying out to Alina.
“Edward, no!”
The sound of her voice broke through the pain that clouded his mind. He turned his head and lifted it a little to see Alina, her hands also bound with ropes, lifted onto the front of Rodderick’s horse. She fought back, clawing at him as he held her.
“Stop fighting or we kill him here and now,” Rodderick said through clenched teeth and Alina went still. She looked to Edward and he could see the tears streaming down her face.
Edward felt another jolt of pain as the horses began to move further away from the stone walls. The agony increased with every step until his vision went black and he felt nothing at all.
Chapter Thirteen
Alina was lifted from Rodderick’s horse and roughly pushed to her knees in the middle of the village square. A crowd was gathering, the townspeople pushing forward to see what was going on. The men of the mob circled around, watching to see what Rodderick was going to do next. He bent low over his wife to speak to her.
“I must know, Alina,” Rodderick said, towering over her. “Did you go with this man willingly or did he force you to come with him?”
Alina said nothing and didn’t raise her eyes from the ground. The crowd went quiet, waiting for her to speak.
“You’re not making this easy for yourself,” he said, raising his voice. “Did this man force you, or was this your choice?”
Still Alina said nothing as tears streamed from her eyes. Rodderick squatted down to her level and reached out, grasping her jaw in one of his large hands.
“What sin did I commit that God would punish me with such a wife,” he spat at her. “Tell me, how much of yourself did you have to give him for that nice dress?”
He shoved her face away from him making her fall into the mud.
“I didn’t sell myself,” she said, speaking for the first time since they had left the mountain.
“Did you give yourself willingly then?” he said, a familiar anger was rising in his voice.
“The dress was a gift from the duke,” she said.
“The duke?” He laughed and the crowds which now pressed in around them began to laugh too. “His Grace died ten years ago and has yet to be replaced by the king. If this vagabond has convinced you he’s a duke then you’re more stupid than I thought.”
The crowd parted to make way for the horse that carried Edward. Several men dragged his unconscious body from the horse and let it fall to the ground. It hurt her to see him like that—helpless and vulnerable to the mob. Only she knew that he was unconscious because of the curse.
Whispers went through the crowd and Alina wondered what they had been told about the man laying before them. Rodderick stepped toward his body and began addressing the villagers.
“My good people,” he said, raising his arms for silence. “This man is a sorcerer. Before our own eyes, we watched him perform dark magic, wounding several of the men.”
The members of the crowd who had been part of the mob gave shouts of agreement and showed the marks and bruises they had earned. Rodderick paused for effect before continuing.
“He has also used his sorcery to seduce my wife, my horse was found in his stables, and he appears to be dressed in the clothes of our departed duke, may his soul rest in peace.”
Alina protested his words, speaking out and shaking her head in disagreement, but she couldn’t be heard over the outcries from the crowd. The villagers parted again and the priest entered the circle, stepping to Edward to inspect his unconscious body.
“Are these not marks of the devil?” Rodderick asked him, pointing to the burn scars across his face.
“How many of you saw this man practice sorcery?” the priest called out to the crowd. He spoke with authority and the people listened. Many in the crowd raised their hands and there were several shouts describing the way the linens had moved all on their own, as if whipped about by unseen hands. The villagers became agitated, calling for Edward to be removed from the village and away from their children.
“Wait,” Alina shouted, and finally the crowd quieted so she could speak. “He is not a sorcerer. Can the man not speak on his own behalf?”
A mumble went through the crowd but it was quickly silenced by the priest. “With so many voices against him, I fear that if he is allowed, he will speak his magic words and bring the Devil into our very town.”
The crowd went mad, protesting against the presence of such a man in their midst, some even calling for Edward’s death.
Alina glanced to his body once more. A child threw a stone and she watched it glance off his shoulder, but he didn’t stir. Other children began to pick up rocks as well and Alina quickly crawled the few paces to his unconscious body, putting her arms over his head.
“Edward, wake up. Please,” she whispered frantically in his ear. The children threw more stones and Alina bent herself over him, protecting him with her body as the stones struck her back. Rodderick saw what she was doing and pulled her off, dragging her back several paces and holding her arm so she couldn’t return to Edward’s side.
“Do you not see what he has done to my wife?” Rodderick shouted, shaking her by the arm. “He has seduced her. Put her under some spell.”
Alina pulled against him, but his firm grip prevented her from moving away from him.
“We are a small village, Father,” Rodderick said, more to the crowd than to the priest. “With the duke gone and no magistrate for miles, we look to you for judgement on this matter.”
The crowd bustled and gave cries of agreement. The priest raised his arms to quiet them once again.
“God has condemned witchcraft and sorcery. If we do not have the strength to dispose of a devil worshiper when found in our midst, what hope can there be for us in the last days? I will hear the testimony of those who witnessed his crimes. If he is guilty of sorcery, he must be put to death.”
The crowd erupted in angry cheers as Alina fell to her knees, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.
“Take him to the church cellar,” the priest directed over the shouts of the crowd. “He will be secure there until we have decided his fate.”
Several men
moved forward and grabbed hold of Edward’s arms, lifting him off the ground and dragging him as the crowd parted to let them pass.
“Wait, no!” Alina cried. “It was me. I chose to go with him. He is innocent.”
As the men tugged at Edward’s body, the journal he had gone back for became dislodged and tumbled to the ground. Someone in the crowd bent to pick it up and looked at the pages. Alina knew the unfamiliar language and strange drawings they would find there. The man cried out and dropped the book, pointing to it on the ground.
“His book of spells,” the man shouted. “He is a sorcerer.”
The priest bent to retrieve the book and glanced at a few pages before closing it again.
“This will be burned,” he assured the crowds. “We will cleanse this village of evil when we find it.”
One of the villagers presented a lantern and the priest opened it, then touched one corner of the journal to the flame. The old pages caught fire and the crowd shouted in approval. He tossed the flaming book to the ground and Edward was carried out of sight.
Alina could tell that even without hearing testimony, the priest would never let him go. The crowds wouldn’t be satisfied, their frenzied cries evident of their blood lust. She wept for Edward, doubling over in the agony of her sorrow. He had saved her life, twice, and this was his reward. If she had never run from Rodderick, Edward would still be safe.
“And what of your wife?” the priest asked and the crowd quieted a little, hungry for blood and hoping to see some tonight. Now that Edward was gone, the crowds closed in on her again.
Rodderick glared down at her.
“You heard it from her own lips. She went with him willingly. She should have called upon God to save her from his sorcery. Even now she is unrepentant. But no matter what evil has taken her, she is still my wife. I think it would displease God if I discarded her now when she needs so much guidance.”
It was evident to Alina that his words were for the benefit of the villagers. She was his plaything and always had been. It wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart that he would take her back.
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