The Princess Spy

by Melanie Dickerson

  No time to check if they’re still breathing. She dashed down the corridor, tucking her candlestick in her sleeve again.

  Britta’s eyes were almost as round as her open mouth.

  “Follow me!” Margaretha called to Britta in a loud whisper over her shoulder. Without waiting to see if Britta would follow, Margaretha headed to the dungeon. Her hands shook, but a sense of power surged through her limbs. She felt as if she could save them all.

  “If you get me killed,” Anne said in a shaky voice, “I shall come back and haunt you, Margaretha. I shall not rest until I’ve driven you mad.”

  Margaretha stifled a rather hysterical laugh. No time to argue with her cousin as she flew down the uneven stone steps into the darkness.

  The gaoler had left one torch burning somewhere up the steps. The light was barely enough for Colin to make out the rats that scurried by the far wall. The smell of smoke, mold, and human excrement was almost like a tangible thing, closing in on him in the dark.

  The light grew brighter and he heard footsteps, quick and soft, not at all like the gaoler’s heavy footfalls.

  He stood up, making his chains rattle, as three young women appeared, hurrying down the steps.

  Lady Margaretha led the two others. She smiled when she saw him. No one had ever looked more beautiful or been a more welcome sight. Her eyes flashed with a wildness that matched the tone of her voice, for of course, she was talking. Most of it was in English, although she occasionally slipped into German.

  “Colin, we have come to rescue you before we escape. I’ve knocked out Lord Claybrook’s two guards who were watching Anne and me, and this is Britta, a maid who was in the corridor. Do you think we have time to go get my family? Claybrook might catch us, though, and we must — ”

  “I don’t know half of what you’re saying, but if you have the key to my irons, I will be very grateful.” He shook his chains to make sure she understood.

  Before she could answer, Lady Margaretha and her two companions turned at the sound of voices and more footsteps.

  “Wer ist da?” the gaoler’s voice called as he and the priest came into view.

  Margaretha turned and spoke to the gaoler and the priest coming down the dungeon steps. Colin wasn’t sure what she told him, but the gaoler looked at her as if she had just told him to go kiss a toad.

  Colin suspected Margaretha was demanding that the gaoler let Colin go, and the gaoler was arguing with her. The priest, who turned to Colin with a surprised look on his face, began to relay what they were saying.

  As Margaretha spoke, the priest translated, “I am sorry to tell you this, but it is Lord Claybrook and his guards who are dangerous. This man came here to warn us to be on our guard against Claybrook, who intends to kill him — and to kill my father, Duke Wilhelm. You must not listen to what Lord Claybrook’s guards tell you.”

  “Ach du meine Güte,” the priest said, whatever that meant. He crossed himself, lifting the large cross around his neck and kissing it.

  The gaoler only muttered and shook his head before lifting the keys that were dangling around his wrist and sorting through them. He stepped toward Colin and began unlocking his irons.

  “We must escape,” Margaretha said to Colin while the gaoler loosed him from his chains, “and find help. I don’t know if any of our men got through to warn Father, but we must find him. If he is near enough, he can prevent the Earl of Keiterhafen’s men from getting into Hagenheim tonight and defeat Claybrook before morning.”

  The timeframe didn’t seem likely, but he refrained from telling her that. “We must secure some weapons.”

  “I have the candlestick I used to knock out the two guards, but I don’t know where we might get swords or knives.”

  “We should also try to get some money, in case we have a longer than expected journey ahead of us. We may need to go to your father’s allies for help. Who is his strongest ally?”

  “My mother’s family, the Godehards of Marienberg. My cousin, Duke Theodemar, will help us if we can get word to them. We can get there in a few days, if we have good horses.”

  Anne asked something, and her voice sounded peevish. The young maid with the yellow-blonde hair and round blue eyes stood near the wall, still clutching her arms around herself and shivering, even though it was not very cold. Anne frowned indignantly.

  “Attaining horses could be a problem, since the stable is guarded by Claybrook’s men.”

  “If we have to walk, it will take a week at least.”

  He wasn’t sure Duke Wilhelm and Lord Valten would survive a week.

  “I have money in my chamber, which we will obtain before we leave. I hope it is enough.”

  The priest had begun to translate their conversation to the gaoler, Anne, and Britta.

  “Father Anselm, would you go up to my bedchamber and get a purse out of the small trunk beside my bed?” Margaretha asked. “It’s the trunk with the painted vines and flowers on it, and the purse is a simple brown leather pouch.”

  The priest nodded and turned to go up the steps.

  The gaoler said something in his gruff voice and started up the stone steps behind the priest.

  “Where is he going?” Colin asked.

  “Back to his post. He will tell us if he sees Lord Claybrook’s men coming this way.” Margaretha’s face was a vibrant contrast to the young maid, who looked terrified, and Anne, who looked angry and irritable. Margaretha’s eyes were wide and animated, and she spoke in a lively voice. “I can’t believe I knocked out two men and escaped. I hope I didn’t kill them or permanently injure them. But we have to think about what we will need to bring with us on our trip. Besides money and weapons, we should take some warm clothing and some food, in case we need to avoid entering the villages. I still can hardly believe Lord Claybrook would be foolish enough to try to take over Hagenheim. I hope my little sisters are not too frightened by all this. Adela can cry for hours when she’s sad or afraid.”

  Not only had she spied on Claybrook and discovered his plot, but she had escaped from two of his guards. Margaretha, whom he had accused of being a flibbertigibbet and thought of as the pampered daughter of a duke, who talked on and on when she was excited. He never would have believed it.

  His mind went back to what she had said earlier and he interrupted her chatter. “You knocked out Claybrook’s guards with a candlestick?”

  “Not just one, but two guards.” Margaretha smiled as if she had just won a jousting tournament. She pulled a silver candlestick from her sleeve and held it up.

  He had to admit, “I am impressed, Lady Margaretha.”

  She smiled and seemed to be blushing, although it was hard to tell in the dark dungeon. “I rather enjoyed it. I only hope neither of them were seriously injured.”

  He had no such hope as he rubbed his wrists where the irons had chafed his skin. They waited for the priest to return, and while Margaretha seemed to be trying to comfort her cousin and the maid in their native tongue, he began thinking of a plan to escape from the castle. How many doors led out of the castle? Wouldn’t they all be guarded? It would take a miracle to get out without Claybrook’s guards seeing them.

  Margaretha turned back to Colin and said in English, “We will save my mother and sisters and brothers and bring them with us, won’t we? Claybrook has stopped them from leaving as we had planned earlier. Please. We must take them with us.”

  Her face was very near his in the dim torchlight of the dungeon. He was struck with the beauty of her delicate features in the mellow light of the torches.

  Dwelling on Margaretha’s beauty at a time like this? He blinked to clear his thoughts. “I don’t want to discourage you, but I think it unlikely that we will be able to get your mother and siblings away from Claybrook’s guards.”

  Would she be logical and accept his reasoning?

  “May we not at least try?” Margaretha seemed to be pleading with him with those deep brown eyes of hers.

  He found himself saying, “W
e can try, but if they are guarded, you must accept that, having no weapons — besides your candlestick — we will not be able to overcome the guards and take your family with us.”

  “But if there is only one, or even two guards, I am sure you and I can defeat that many.”

  “If there are only one or two, or even three, and if they do not see us . . . I will consider the attempt. But remember, Margaretha.” He stepped even closer to her, touching her shoulder to make her listen. “We must escape in order to get help for everyone, including your father. We must escape.” He emphasized the words.

  “I know you are right. Thank you for at least considering the attempt. Perhaps God will make a way.”

  “But before we go to find your family . . .” He looked at the two other people around them. The maid’s eyes were wide in her pale face as she huddled against the wall, looking on. Margaretha’s cousin stood with her hands in fists drawn up to her nose, as if to stifle the smell of the dank dungeon. “We have to make a plan of how to escape the castle.”

  “Oh, that is easy.” Her eyes brightened again. “Here in the dungeon there is a secret tunnel.”

  “In the dungeon?”

  “Another entrance to the tunnel is hidden in the castle yard, but it is near the castle gate and we couldn’t get there without being seen. Besides, what better place to hide a secret entrance to a tunnel than the dungeon? No one would ever look for it there, and the dungeon prisoners could never find it because they are bound by chains. I think it a most genius idea of my father’s, although the actual tunnel idea was my uncle, Lord Rupert’s.”

  “That’s my father,” Anne chirped.

  The existence of a secret tunnel that led out of the castle was the best news he’d heard . . . ever.

  Footsteps sounded above and the gaoler called in a hushed voice, “Father Anselm.” The priest returned with Margaretha’s purse. She tied it to her belt.

  Colin grabbed her hand. “Let us go. Tell the others to stay here. We will try to free your mother and family and return.” Colin started up the steps.

  Chapter

  15

  Margaretha hurriedly translated his words for Anne and Britta as she followed Colin up.

  Britta’s face appeared frozen in terror, while Anne looked as if she was biting through a horseshoe, but Margaretha couldn’t worry about them now. As Colin had said, they must escape, and she didn’t want to leave her family behind.

  When they reached the top of the dungeon steps, the gaoler said he hadn’t seen any guards. They continued on, with Colin holding her hand behind him. He looked around every corner before moving forward and allowing her to follow.

  They started up the castle steps toward the family’s solar. Margaretha’s heart thudded in her ears, making it harder to listen for any trace of a guard’s footfall or voice. She moved her own feet as silently as possible, treading lightly, moving deliberately. Colin’s steps were quieter than a baby’s sigh as he led her up the narrow, steep stairs. The feel of his hand around hers invigorated her. Together, she was certain they could overcome a couple of guards who had less to lose than they did.

  They crept slower as voices became audible above them. They were muted, but blessedly feminine. She thought she recognized her mother’s.

  Colin strained forward, then jerked back, plastering himself against the wall of the stairwell. His eyes met hers as he placed his finger to his lips.

  “Let me — ” Margaretha had begun to say, Let me go up first, but Colin pressed his fingers against her mouth and shook his head.

  He leaned down and pressed his lips to her ear. “Guards, four feet away.”

  His breath caressed her ear. Margaretha tried to ignore the warm shiver that swept through her. She mouthed, “How many?”

  He held up four fingers.

  “May I see?”

  Colin looked reluctant, but he finally nodded. He traded places with her, stepping down while she stepped up, their shoulders brushing in the tight space. He had nice hair, the way it curled so thickly but smoothly over his head and on the back of his neck. She might tell him if she was able to talk. But perhaps it was better he didn’t know she had noticed such a thing.

  She carefully stretched forward, peeking around the curve of the staircase. Finally, she saw Claybrook’s guards standing outside the door. Their backs were to her, and she could only see two, so she leaned farther forward and saw the legs of two more.

  Even Margaretha wasn’t optimistic enough to believe that the two of them could defeat four trained, heavily armed guards. Perhaps if they enlisted the aid of the gaoler and the priest . . . But she couldn’t imagine Father Anselm doing anything violent, and the gaoler was old and might not even be willing. No, she had to trust that she would be able to get help and come back and save them. Besides, she didn’t think Claybrook would harm her family. He had no reason to kill them, and the king and the rest of the nobility of the land would look quite unfavorably on such a thing.

  She’d felt so much hope when they had started up the steps. Now her heart was like a huge stone in her chest as she followed Colin back down.

  Colin looked carefully before going around any corners, and soon they were back in the dungeon without having encountered anyone along the way.

  Anne clasped Margaretha’s arm again. “Get me out of this rat-infested hole. I will not stay here another minute.”

  “With God’s help, we will be out of here soon.” Maybe then Anne could lose that frustrated, fearful tone in her voice that was dancing on Margaretha’s nerves.

  “Weapons,” Colin said, breaking into her thoughts. “Can you ask the gaoler to give us any weapons he has on him?”

  “Of course.” Margaretha approached the gaoler, and he readily bent over and removed a dagger and its sheath, which was strapped to his thigh underneath his tunic.

  “This is all I carry.” He handed them over to Colin. “But if you can wait, I can fetch a mace that I keep in the Great Hall.”

  Margaretha translated.

  “No, too unwieldy. We must be moving fast. But thank you.” Colin eyed Anne and Britta. “Who is going with us, and who is staying at Hagenheim Castle?”

  Anne and Britta looked to Margaretha to clarify.

  Margaretha had assumed they were both going. “Cannot they both go?”

  “They can, but we do not know where we are going, exactly. They should know that now. I want to give them the choice.”

  Margaretha translated for the two young women, but added, “You should come with us to avoid the chaos that is certainly coming.”

  “Will I be able to go to my family in town?” Britta’s lip trembled as she spoke.

  Margaretha thought for a moment. “I don’t see why not. Once we are out, you can always go back in — that is, until the fighting starts. Then the gates will probably close.”

  Britta let out a squeak, like a mouse in a trap.

  “Don’t worry. All will be well. Colin and I will protect you, and probably there won’t be any fighting anyway, if we can find — ”

  “We must go. Tell them to decide now.” Colin’s manner reminded her of the black stallion just before he bolted.

  Margaretha turned to Anne and Britta. “Will you go with us?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Anne asked irritably.

  “No, unless you want to go up to the solar and turn yourself over to the soldiers who are guarding the rest of my family.”

  “Which way do we go?” Colin asked impatiently.

  “We must get torches first.” Margaretha took one down from the wall, and Colin walked halfway up the steps to grab another.

  “This way,” she said, starting for the tunnel to the right. She hoped Anne and Britta were behind her as she led the way. The tunnel narrowed until it was only wide enough for one person.

  “A spider!” Anne’s voice reverberated off the stone walls. “Get it off .”

  A scuffle ensued, followed by, “Ach! I am so angry with you, Margaretha.”


  “What did I do?”

  Anne’s voice came from behind, “You led me through a dungeon and through a spider web, which is still in my hair, and a spider crawled up my arm! I even saw a rat run by! If I die in this stinking hole, I will never forgive you.”

  Margaretha sighed. “I am saving you, Anne, from an evil man. Please try to remember that.”

  The light of her torch showed that the tunnel ended just ahead in a small chamber complete with chains and iron manacles and two wooden benches. Margaretha stepped into it and walked straight to the back wall. Feeling with her hand, she found a stone that jutted out. She pushed down on it and the wall shifted. She pushed harder and a four-foot by two-foot section of stones opened up like a door on a hinge.

  Colin grunted behind her. “I need one of these.”

  Margaretha smiled. Here was another secret she had never talked about. She couldn’t wait to tell her brothers how wrong they were about her.

  She had not been allowed to know about the secret tunnel as a child, but a few years before, her father and mother had shown her and her sister Kirstyn where the tunnel was and how to open the secret door, in case there was some terrible event and they needed to leave the castle. Margaretha had dreamed of using it, of how exciting it would be to lead the castle household to safety while evil brigands attacked. All her imaginings were so close to today’s reality that it gave this moment a dream-like quality.

  She truly was here, and she truly was leading people to safety through the secret tunnel — but more importantly, to get help.

  She pushed the wall open as far as it would go and bent low to fit through the small opening, holding her torch before her.

  More spider webs greeted her as she stepped into the seldom-used tunnel.

  In awe of the secret passageway, Colin almost whistled when Lady Margaretha pushed on a stone and the wall opened up before her. He had to figure out how they did this before going back home to England.