by Bobbi Smith
She handed him the clothing.
He donned the tunic, but found it was tight, fitting snugly across the width of his chest. The boots fit comfortably. Once dressed, he strode purposefully across the room and seized Perkin’s sword. He held it up, relishing the feeling of being armed again. It was not a poor weapon, and he was glad. If he had to fight, he wanted to be as well armed as possible. Short of having his own sword, this one would do.
Dynna had watched him as he had picked up the weapon, and she saw the same fierce, hungry gleam in his eyes that had been there the first time she had seen him. He no longer appeared the captive to her, but was once again the Viking warrior. She swallowed nervously against the realization of what she had done.
Brage felt her gaze upon him and turned to look at her. They stood in silence, staring at each other, recognizing that the daring adventure they were about to undertake could be deadly.
“You are sure you want to go with me?” Brage demanded.
“I am sure,” she stated without hesitation.
They regarded each other for a moment longer, knowing that their fates were sealed.
“Let us go.”
They slipped from the room and locked the door behind them before starting down the stairs on the first leg of their run for freedom.
They crept along silently, taking care to keep to the shadows. They were nearing the chapel when they heard footsteps coming their way. Dynna knew a moment of panic, for there was nowhere to hide. Frantic, she grabbed Brage’s arm and pointed toward the door to the chapel. Together, they darted into the darkened room and stood there, waiting and listening as the footsteps neared and then passed them by.
A sigh escaped Dynna as quiet once again reigned. It was only then that she realized how badly her hands were shaking and that Brage was standing close behind her, the sword at ready. She looked from the blade to him and back.
“I will not go back to that room or the chains.”
“I am worried . . . I did not think anyone would be around this late at night. I thought . . .”
“Lady Dynna? Are you in need of help?” Father Corwin had been at prayer when the door had opened and Dynna entered with the stranger. It took him only a moment to figure out who he was and why he was with her.
Father Corwin’s question cut through the silence of the room. She gasped and Brage turned on the man, ready to fight.
“Father . . . Brage . . . no . . . “ She grabbed him by the arm to stop him from advancing on the priest.
“Father, I did not know anyone would be here . . .”
Father Corwin heard the frantic note in her voice, and understood. He had wondered at her easy acceptance of Edmund’s proposal. “Fear not, Lady Dynna, I pose no threat to you.” He was kneeling at prayer and kept his eyes closed as he spoke.
“Father Corwin, I must leave this place. I cannot stay here any longer. I cannot marry Edmund.”
“Do not fear. I have seen nothing unusual this night.”
Dynna was sorely relieved. He had the power to end their flight right then and there, and he had chosen not to. “Thank you.”
“Dynna?” Brage was still ready to attack. He did not take his eyes off the priest as he spoke to her.
“It is all right. Father Corwin is a friend.”
Brage doubted that, but said nothing. Still, he remained ready for anything as he waited to see what they would do.
Father Corwin sensed the ferociousness in the man at her sided and in a way, he was glad that the man was with Lady Dynna to protect her. She was going to need a champion. Care for Dynna as he did he was glad she was daring enough to defy Sir Edmund. “Be careful as you cross the main hall. Eyes will be watching. However, if I were to leave at this hour, I would not be stopped or questioned.”
“You would go with us?”
“I cannot, but search and see if you can find what is within God’s power to save you.” He gestured about the chapel and toward the door that led to the small room where he slept.
She was puzzled by his words and knew a hidden meaning lay beneath them. She moved about the chapel looking for something, anything that might help them, while Brage maintained vigil by the door. As she paused before the portal to Father Corwin’s private room, she saw two of his brown robes folded on his narrow bed.
“This is what you meant!” she whispered, snatching them up.
“Peace be with you, my child,” he said when he heard her statement. He kept his eyes closed and continued his prayers.
Dynna raced back to Brage who was confused by her actions.
“Here! Put this on.”
“What is it?”
“A priest’s robe. Put up the hood, and if anyone speaks to you, just nod and keep walking. Act like you are praying.”
Brage donned the long, dark hooded robe.
“Good . . . I will wear the other one. That way anyone who sees us will think we’re Father Corwin and Father Osmar. As long as we do not speak, no on will suspect.”
Brage hid Perkin’s sword in the folds of the robe as Dynna drew on the other robe. They were ready to try to escape again.
“Father, is there anything I can do for you?” Dynna implored. “Anything at all?”
“Be safe and be happy, Lady Dynna. God wants you to be so.”
“Thank you, Father . . .”
She and Brage shared one last look before she opened the door and led the way toward the main hall.
Eleven
Brage and Dynna were both thinking of the good priest’s promise to pray for them as they continued down the steps. Dynna added her own pleas, while Brage offered up a prayer to Odin, beseeching him to guide them safely from the tower. He was certain he could hold his own in battle once they were in the countryside.
“We are almost there,” Dynna whispered as they reached the last turn in the stairs.
Drawing a deep breath to steady himself, Brage tightened his grip on the sword he held hidden in the folds of the robe, ready for trouble as he descended the final steps. He did not remember a lot about the Great Hall, for his memories had been dimmed by the fever. He kept pace with Dynna, following her lead through this critical part of their escape attempt.
Dynna wanted to rush from the hall, but she knew she could not do anything that would draw attention to them. She moved at a deliberate, slow pace, much as Father Corwin and Father Osmar would.
As they began to cross the hall, she peeped from beneath the hood to see five or six men lounging about. Her trembling increased as they passed within ten feet of them, and she held her breath in terrified expectation.
“Good evening, Father Corwin and Father Osmar,” one of the men called out.
Dynna could see Brage shift his hold on his hidden weapon, and she came close to panic, fearing a bloody confrontation, but she held on to her daring, nodding silently in the man’s direction. Brage did the same, and they continued on. She waited for the man to come after them or to question their disguise. Each step closer to the gate was torture; each second that passed was fraught with painful anticipation. She did not breathe a sigh of relief until she heard the men’s conversation turn back to the mundane.
Both Dynna and Brage knew the worst test was yet to come. They would have to pass the guard at the gate, and if anyone was going to get a close look at them, it would be that one.
Brage did not relax his grip on the hilt of the sword. Having passed through the first test without incident and now being within sight of freedom, he was ready to silence anyone who challenged him. His jaw was locked in fierce determination, his body rigid in self-control as he stayed alert and ready for any sign of trouble.
Dynna could see the dark of night through the gate and knew that salvation was just that close. Just a hundred more feet and they would be away from the horror of the tower. Just another hundred feet . . . She ducked her head making sure no one could see her face, and she checked that her hands were covered by the long, wide sleeves of the robe.
Each
stride they took brought them closer and closer to the most difficult part of their passage. If they made it through the gate, Dynna believed they would make it to her parents’ house.
“Good evening, Father Corwin, Father Osmar,” the guard greeted them as they approached.
They nodded and continued on—waiting, hoping, praying.
“Trouble in the village, Father?” he asked not thinking it odd at all that the two priests were going into the village this late. They often went out at all hours to tend to their flock, whenever the need arose.
Both Brage and Dynna tensed even more, knowing they had to respond. Dynna, of course, could not speak; to do so would be the end to any hope they had. She prayed harder than she ever had in her life, hoping that Brage would know what and how to answer.
“We received word that there is an illness, so we must go and pray with the family.”
Brage paused as he spoke in a voice that was as deep as Father Corwin’s and just as authoritative. Dynna waited, breathlessly, to see what his reaction would be. She expected to be confronted, but to her surprise, the guard waved them on.
“I hope everything is all right.”
“As do we. Good night.”
They stepped outside beneath the night sky’s canopy of stars and were just about to quicken their pace to distance themselves from the tower as fast as they could, when the guard called out to them.
“Father Corwin?!”
They stopped dead still. Brage kept his back to the tower as he freed the sword from the folds of the robe and stood prepared to slay anyone who attempted to stop him at this point. He waited.
“Yes?”
“Will you be hearing confessions tomorrow?”
Brage had no idea what he was talking about, and he cast a sidelong glance at Dynna in hopes that she could give him a hint of what to say. Dynna had gone pale at the sound of his call. Her heart was in her throat as she believed the end was near. She glanced over at Brage to find him looking at her for guidance. Desperate, she gave a curt nod in answer to the question.
“We will be hearing them tomorrow. Come see me in the morning.”
“Thank you, Father. I will.”
Brage gave Dynna a crooked, half-smile as he slid the sword back within the folds of the robe.
“Are you ready to go into the village, Father?”
Dynna nodded, returning his smile with a strained one of her own.
Together, they made their escape complete and tasted freedom. The sensation was heady for both of them, but especially for Brage. He wanted to stop where he was and shout his joy, but he did not. He continued on at the measured pace.
“Which way, my lady?”
Dynna still hesitated to speak and so pointed in the direction of the village. Her heart was pounding a frenzied rhythm, and her spirits were soaring as they moved farther and farther away from the tower. This time there would be no Viking invaders to kidnap her and foil her plan! This time she would make it to safety! She would survive by her wits, doing everything in her power to avoid Sir Edmund when he came looking for her the next day—and she knew he would come. But there was no way she was going back with him. She was free, and she was going to stay that way. Dynna did not run, though she wanted to. She walked on calmly into the night, leaving the guard to tell the tale that both priests had gone into the village late that night and had not returned during the span of his watch.
Neither Brage nor Dynna spoke again until they had reached the first turn in the road.
“Here! We need to look in here,” Dynna said when she saw the brush and trees where Matilda had promised she would hide his shield and sword. She did not know how, or even if, the maid had managed to sneak them from the tower, but she had every faith in her that she had. Matilda had never failed Dynna when she had needed her.
“For what?” he asked.
At her words of explanation, he charged through the brush, looking for his most precious possessions. When he saw the big bundle wrapped in cloth hidden back behind a tree, he almost let out a shout of joy to Odin. He cast Perkin’s weapon aside as he tore the wrapping off. A fire burned within him as he grasped the golden-hilt sword in his hand once more. There had been a time when he had despaired of ever holding it again! He picked up the shield, throwing his head back as he gazed up at the heavens, then he held both the shield and sword up to the sky in praise and offering to his gods who had watched over him and granted him his freedom. After a moment of silent contemplation, Brage felt alive and strong and ready for battle. He stripped off the priest’s robe and stood before Dynna, the proud Viking warrior she had met the first time.
Dynna did not say a word as she watched Brage. Silvered by the moonlight, he appeared the powerful, invincible warrior, and she understood how he had come by his fearsome reputation. He was magnificent to gaze upon, and she found herself mesmerized by the strength and beauty of him.
Something stirred deep within her, yet she denied the attraction. Brage cared nothing for her. He had only joined her in the escape because she had forced him to and not for any other reason.
As she considered the thought, though, it occurred to her that now that he was armed and free, he no longer needed her for anything. Should he decide to strike out on his own, there was no way she could stop him. Not even the threat of telling Sir Edmund that he had escaped would matter, for he knew she would never go back to the tower herself.
Brage looked at Dynna then, standing in the moonlight still wearing the priestly robe. He thought she had never looked more lovely. She had the nerve of a dozen Viking warriors and the wits to outsmart the strongest of enemies, yet she was a mere slip of a woman. She looked delicate; he knew she was strong. She looked fragile; he knew she had the determination of a lioness. He remembered her kiss and knew she had the power to entice even the strongest warrior from his purpose. He was there, wasn’t he?
Brage had a strong desire to touch her, to hold her and praise her for a plan so well executed. The thought surprised him. No other woman had ever affected him this way. When he was about to raid, he thought of nothing save the adventure. Yet, Dynna was in his thoughts constantly, and now they had escaped together, something he had vowed to himself he would not allow. He did not try to understand it. He just tried to concentrate on getting them as far away as he could by sunlight.
“Will you wear the robe, Dynna? It might slow us down,” he told her.
“Oh . . .” She had been half expecting him to announce that he was leaving her to her own devices, and it startled her to learn that he was waiting for her to shed the robe. She quickly stripped off the garment.
“Is something wrong?” Brage asked, seeing the surprise in her expression.
“No, nothing is wrong. Nothing at all,” she answered, feeling much relieved to know that he was not going off on his own.
“You looked worried.”
She knew he was adept at reading her moods and so answered him honestly. I had thought that you might go on your own from here, since you have your own sword and shield now.”
“You doubted that I would keep my part of the bargain?” This time it was his turn to be surprised, and a little disappointed that she would think so poorly of him.
“I was not sure.”
“I gave you my word. We have a bargain,” he said.
“Then we had better go. We must travel west.”
“How close is the nearest stream?”
“Why?” She did not understand the importance. She wanted to cross the open ground as quickly as they could while it was dark, but it seemed he had another idea.
“No doubt your prince will bring the dogs with him when he tries to hunt us down. It is best to hide our scent early, lose it in water, and leave them hunting in frustration.”
Dynna nodded her approval and led the way.
They were skirting the road, staying near but not on it. At the turn that offered the final clear view of the tower, Dynna paused to take one last look back at what had once
been her home. It no longer looked welcoming and warm. It no longer reminded her of Warren. Now, it loomed dark and sinister in the night, as threatening as Edmund. She shivered as she thought of him and the horror of being his wife.
“Let us go,” she insisted quickly, making the sign of the cross on herself. “I pray that I will never see this place again.”
Brage echoed her sentiments as he followed her into the night.
The night grew darker as low clouds blocked any light, making their going difficult. Still, they set a steady pace and kept to it. When they reached the stream nearly an hour later, Brage waded into the knee-deep water first, with Dynna following close behind. The water was icy, but she did not protest. She concentrated only on keeping up with Brage. At his insistence, they waded as far as they could staying in the middle of the rushing current.
“If the gods are with us, there will be a storm before dawn,” Brage told her as he stopped to study the sky. The clouds looked threatening. “A good hard rain will help to erase our trail and make it impossible for them to find us,” he explained.
“And if it does not rain?”
“Then we had better be a lot farther along by daylight. They will be coming after us on horseback.”
The thought chilled Dynna more than the water did and she shivered uncontrollably as she remembered Edmund charging toward her during the first battle. He had chosen only to humiliate her then. He had not hurt her physically, but this time, she could not conceive that he would be so forgiving. She had helped the prisoner to escape and had fled with him. There would be no charity in Edmund’s heart if he caught her.
“I can walk faster,” she told Brage, glancing nervously behind her and suddenly feeling the heat of the chase. “Let us hurry.”
He glanced at her in amazement, for so far he had been walking at a steady, measured speed. He wondered if she could keep up with him if he struck off at his usual pace. “Are you sure?”
At her agreement, they quickened their strides once they had left the stream and headed west.
