by Jody Hedlund
Chapter
6
Adelaide
Sitting in the presence of both my cousins should have been a happy occasion. But I was riddled with memories of our family from when Aunt Susanna and Uncle Whelan had been alive and we’d all still been together. I missed those carefree days. More than that, I missed my aunt’s calming presence.
With Mitchell next to me and Christopher on the opposite bench, the air between the two was tense. I wanted to punch them both and tell them to stop behaving like children. Instead, I tried to view the situation as Aunt Susanna would, attempting to be a peacemaker.
“We have but a remnant of our sheep left,” I said in response to one of Christopher’s questions. “The demand for wool has decreased. People cannot pay or trade for wool when they must use everything they have to secure food.”
The windows in the great hall were still open, allowing the coolness of the summer night to bathe the stone walls and drive the staleness from the air. We’d already finished our simple supper of roasted hen, salad greens, and thick slices of bread. Now I indulged in another sweetmeat from the bowl at the center of the table. How Mitchell had managed to procure both gingerbread and sweetmeats I didn’t know. And for this eve, I didn’t care.
“So there is no income at Langley from any source whatsoever?” Christopher asked. “Not even from the Everly smelters?”
“We have taken care of the estate the best we could,” Mitchell said testily. “Although I am sure you think you could have done better.”
“Under the severe circumstances, I doubt it.” Christopher reached for a sweetmeat, and I tried not to think about the moment when his mouth had closed over my fingers. Even so, the memory resurfaced along with a warmth deep in my belly.
“We shall do better this year,” I cut in, trying to divert my attention away from the resurgence of girlish feelings for Christopher, mortified the infatuation had so easily surfaced and that he’d likely seen it. “The crops are abundant and healthy.”
Before we could converse further, Tall John approached the table. He bowed before addressing me. “My lady, you have a visitor.”
“Who is it?” I never had visitors and couldn’t imagine who might seek me out, especially after darkness had descended.
Tall John would not meet my gaze even though I’d assured him many times that I counted him my friend more than a servant. “An old woman. Not from around here.”
I rose, and Mitchell and Christopher did likewise. “She did not give her name or the purpose of her visit?”
“She said she could speak to no one but you, and that it must be alone.”
“Send her away,” Mitchell said. “We cannot be too careful whom we trust.”
I met Mitchell’s gaze and knew he was remembering everything Aunt Susanna had told us the night she’d died. If what my aunt said was true, then King Ethelwulf was in all likelihood still searching for me. Mitchell was right. We had to be careful about who we trusted.
Even so, if the woman was in need, if she was no more than a mere peasant asking for aid, how could I turn her away?
Christopher had raised his brow, his eyes radiating curiosity at our caution when yesterday I’d gone about the villages so freely.
The truth was if King Ethelwulf suspected me, he could have captured me yesterday when I was hunting or riding throughout the countryside. Besides, he wouldn’t send an old woman. “You may bring her in here, John,” I finally said. “Tell her I shall hold an audience with my cousins present or not at all.”
“Adelaide,” Mitchell protested. “Will you never heed me?”
“What harm can a lone woman do to the three of us? We are armed and able to defend ourselves.”
Mitchell merely shook his head while Tall John bowed and retreated to do my bidding. We sat again, none of us talking.
“Are you in some danger I should know about?” Christopher glanced first at me and then Mitchell.
Mitchell ignored his brother and focused on me. “You have not divulged anything of what Mother revealed?”
“Divulged what?”
“’Tis nothing of importance,” I replied, not wishing to speak of something I longed to put behind me and ignore.
“If you are in danger, I would like to know.” With the dust and grime of his travel washed away, his hair combed, and wearing clean garments, Christopher made a dashing portrait. I dared not look into his dark eyes lest he sense how attractive he was. He was already well aware of his charm and needed no further puffing up on my account.
“You have no need to know,” Mitchell said. “You have not been here in the past to care, and you will not be here beyond the morrow. So leave off any pretenses that you care today.”
“Believe it or not—” Christopher’s voice turned hard. “—I do care. Very much.”
Before the two could engage in a full battle, we were interrupted by Tall John returning with a stooped figure shuffling behind him. Again I rose, this time to greet my guest. With a dark cloak concealing her body and large hood obscuring her face, I could tell nothing except that she was hunchbacked and had a severely lopsided gait.
When she stopped in front of me, she lowered herself to her knees. Uncertain of the woman’s intentions, my fingers found the rounded butt of my dagger. I could feel more than see both Christopher and Mitchell stiffen in readiness as well.
When the woman bowed to the ground before me and held herself in the low position reserved for royalty, surprise coursed through me. Tradition demanded that as her superior, I acknowledge her first before she could speak to me. For an instant, I sorely considered sending her away without a word, for I sensed I would not like what she had to say. But when her slight frame began to tremble, I relented.
“I am Lady Adelaide,” I said. “Tall John said you wished to see me.”
She lifted her head from the ground but did not look up. “Your Majesty,” she said in a gravelly voice. “I am your faithful servant.”
Even though she spoke quietly, her words seemed to reverberate off the walls as if she’d shouted them. They sent chills down my spine and over my skin. Only Aunt Susanna had called me that, upon her deathbed, in her last breath. Now this woman had not only bowed low before me but was using the royal title.
I could feel Christopher’s attention shift to me, but I didn’t want to confront his confusion when mine had surfaced once more.
“I have a message for Your Royal Majesty,” the woman spoke again. “For Constance Dierdal Aurora, the queen and true heir of Mercia.”
I wanted to object to her labels and calling me queen. But how could I? Not after everything Aunt Susanna had already told me. Not when I had the royal ring and the ancient key within my possession in the leather pouch beneath my kirtle. Not when deep in my soul I sensed the truth about who I was even though I’d tried to disregard it.
Again, I felt Christopher’s scrutiny as well as his surprise. Thankfully, he refrained from questioning me.
“You may speak freely.” I touched her shoulder gently.
Slowly the woman sat back on her heels and made as though to rise. Every move seemed momentous and painful for her. I was relieved when Christopher stepped forward and assisted the woman back to her feet. When she finally stood again in front of me, she lifted her head and removed her hood.
My heart stuttered to a stop at the sight that greeted me—a grotesque, deformed face. Patches of thin, wispy, snow-white hair grew in clumps about her scarred scalp, as if fistfuls of her locks had been pulled out at one time and had never grown back. Half her face was splotched and shriveled, as if she’d had burning oil poured upon her skin or been subjected to a fire. The socket of one eye was completely shut, and from the sunken appearance, I guessed she had no eye there anymore.
I swallowed my revulsion and prayed for this poor, tortured creature. Whatever had happened to her, she had indeed suffered greatly. As a result, she deserved my compassion and kindness.
“What may I do for you?” I asked. “Do you ha
ve need of food? I have not much, but I will give you anything I can.”
She lifted her head higher. Her neck was threaded with scars that disappeared into a tattered gray habit.
A gray habit the color of stone. A nun. From St. Cuthbert’s in the Iron Hills?
My gaze snapped to hers, to her one open eye, a gray-blue that was as gentle as a mourning dove. More than the color, I remembered the kindness. It was still there, along with joy and pride.
“Sister Katherine?” I asked.
She nodded. From the wizened set of her mouth, I could tell she’d lost her teeth.
“Aunt Susanna said King Ethelwulf captured and imprisoned you. We believed you were dead.”
“No. He did not dare destroy his only link to you.”
Awe and gratefulness mingled together for this woman who had saved my life so long ago by bringing me here to Langley. I had an overwhelming urge to embrace her and started to reach for her.
“I am not worthy, Your Majesty.” She tucked her hands into the wide sleeves of her cloak, but not before I glimpsed the numerous missing digits and stubs—all that remained of her hands. The sight confirmed that Sister Katherine had indeed been sorely abused, and the thought lit a flame of anger in my chest. Who would dare treat any woman, much less a woman of God, this way?
Before I could formulate a response, a gust of night breeze swept through the open windows and banged one of the shutters against the stone, shattering the silence. Sister Katherine jumped, and fear fell over her features, making her thin lips tremble and her chin quiver. She glanced to the door of the great hall as if expecting someone to barge in.
I could not say why, but an impending sense of doom fell over me as palpably as if the castle had suddenly been besieged.
She turned her attention back to me, a new urgency tightening her already taut skin. “Your Majesty,” she said in a calm but ominous tone, “I have come to you today on your twentieth birthday to inform you the time has arrived for you to regain your throne.”
Her one eye held me captive with its intensity—a strength that wouldn’t let me push aside her wild statement, a strength that demanded a response.
“How will I regain the throne?” I asked the first question that came to mind, the one that had haunted me these past weeks. “I am one woman against a king with a powerful army.”
“You are not alone. You must find your sisters. Together you will discover the treasure that will enable you to destroy the evil that has blighted this land.”
I didn’t know how finding two younger sisters would help me regain a throne I wasn’t even sure I wanted. “Do you know where they are?”
“Emmeline is deep in Inglewood Forest, raised by a charcoal burner and his wife. And Maribel is at St. Anne’s in the Highlands.”
Emmeline and Maribel. The names were foreign to me. If I’d ever heard them, I’d long forgotten them. I tested them silently, marveling that I had sisters. Did they know anything about me or their true identities?
Again Sister Katherine glanced behind her to the door. “You must make all haste away. They will be here ere the night ends.”
“Who will be here?” Christopher asked, his voice ringing with alarm.
“The king’s men. They are following me here.”
“Following you?” Mitchell asked, his eyes widening. “Then you have put Adelaide in danger.”
“She’s in grave danger,” Christopher agreed. From his intense expression, I could tell he was already plotting our next course of action.
“’Tis the only reason the king has kept me alive all these years,” Sister Katherine remarked. “He knew if he set me loose close to your twentieth birthday, at the age of royal ascension, I would seek you out and give you the information you’d need to find your sisters.”
“Then you have condemned her to death,” Mitchell said, his face turning pale, “as surely as if you’d plunged the sword through her yourself.”
“The battle must be fought before it can be won.” When Sister Katherine met my gaze, I realized she’d purposefully set the course of my future into motion with her visit. Had she guessed I would be confused and complacent? That I would be reluctant to defy King Ethelwulf?
Even if I was the rightful heir of Mercia, I’d mostly been happy with my life in Langley. If I set out to find my sisters so we could rebel against King Ethelwulf, I’d have to leave everything behind. The life I’d known would cease to exist.
“How much time do we have before Ethelwulf’s men arrive?” Christopher asked Sister Katherine.
“I was not so easy to follow as they expected.” Sister Katherine gave the ghost of a smile. “I have given you several hours’ head start. If you leave right away.”
Her words were all the warning Christopher required. He darted forward, calling instructions for Tall John to saddle our horses.
“You do not need to trouble yourself,” Mitchell called after Christopher. “You may as well be on your way back to Norland.”
Christopher halted in the doorway and spun, his body rigid with the bearing of a man accustomed to not only a knight’s life but of commanding others. “I shall see Adelaide to safety.”
“You do not think me capable of protecting our cousin?” Even in this harried moment, Mitchell’s tone condemned Christopher.
“We will be stronger together,” Christopher replied.
“Adelaide and I have fared well enough without you so far. You cannot walk back in here and behave as though you care what becomes of us when you have given no care before. We do not need you now either.”
Christopher stared at his brother a moment before shifting his focus to me. “Is this how you feel as well, Adelaide? I do not wish to leave until I know you are secure from Ethelwulf. But as I have been woefully absent during your previous hardships, I cannot claim any right to be here for you now.”
I looked from Mitchell to Christopher. I was proud of the men they had become. In spite of the hurts and difficulties that had arisen since Christopher’s leaving, I could not deny my affection for both. They were the only family I had known.
Truthfully, I didn’t want to send Christopher away. He’d just returned, and I selfishly wanted more time with him. On the other hand, I didn’t want Mitchell to feel slighted if I spoke against him and included Christopher in our plans.
Even now, his eyes demanded my loyalty to him above Christopher.
As my attention returned to Sister Katherine, to her deformed body, I realized exactly what she’d endured over the years. She’d languished in prison suffering the worst possible torture. For me. She’d sacrificed her life to keep me safe, just as my aunt and uncle had.
If she believed in me becoming queen, how could I not do the same? The possibility seemed so remote, even outlandish. But I couldn’t dismiss it. Neither could I reduce our predicament to a sibling squabble.
I squared my shoulders, knowing I must make a decision quickly. “We are too outnumbered to refuse any help. To do so would be foolhardy. We will graciously take Christopher’s proffer of assistance as long as he is able to give it.”
Christopher bowed his head in deference before spinning on his heels and continuing on his way.
Mitchell did likewise, but not before I glimpsed the hurt in his eyes. I hoped he’d soon see reason and put his anger toward Christopher aside as I had. There was no sense hanging on to the past hurts, especially not when we needed each other so much now.
Tall John had moved to follow Christopher. “Saddle a horse for Sister Katherine,” I called after the faithful steward.
“No,” Sister Katherine said. “I am not going with you.”
“Of course you are. You must stay with us, and we shall protect you.”
“I will only slow you down—”
“That does not matter.”
Sister Katherine shook her head. “No, Your Majesty.” Her face was lined with a fierceness that told me she wouldn’t go unless I physically picked her up and made her.
&
nbsp; “What will you do?”
“I will do whatever God asks.”
Before she could protest, I bent forward and wrapped the frail woman into a hug. Her body was broken, but I could sense her spirit was not.
She resisted the embrace for only a moment before sliding her arms around me and holding me tightly.
“You will one day be a great queen,” she whispered in my ear. “Not because of what you accomplish, but because of who you will become as a woman of God.”
With that, she released me and took a halting step back.
I had so many questions I wanted to ask about my parents, my sisters, the hidden treasure, and how I could possibly defeat King Ethelwulf. But our time was short. She needed to leave now, too, if she had any hope of evading recapture.
I could only pray one day soon our paths would cross again.
“God go with you, Your Majesty.” She lifted her hood over her disfigured head and limped away.
Chapter
7
Christopher
“We must make haste,” I said to Adelaide as she conversed with an older peasant man and his sons inside the thatched cottage.
Adelaide nodded then pressed the coins into the older man’s hand.
The only light in the one room hovel was from the low hearth fire, which showed the few ragged belongings of this poor family—nothing more than a few pallets, stools, and blackened pots.
For once, Mitchell and I had agreed on the need to ride directly away from Langley. But Adelaide had insisted on first stopping at a trusted elder’s home and giving him a few coins that he could use to aid the peasants on Langley land until she returned. She’d charged him with buying supplies and distributing them.
I’d learned she and Mitchell had won the gold in a jousting tournament. From what I’d gathered in the argument between the two, Adelaide had been largely responsible for the winnings due to her participation in the tournament disguised as Mitchell.
Upon hearing the news of Adelaide’s involvement in the joust, I’d wanted to thrash my younger brother for allowing Adelaide to do something so dangerous. Not only had she put her life in peril but her reputation as a noblewoman.
