by Jody Hedlund
And as the queen.
I studied her features again, awe still mingling with surprise at the news the haggard old nun had delivered. The girl I’d grown up with, the one I’d wrestled and played with, was one of the lost princesses, the true queen of Mercia.
I’d been but a lad of five when Adelaide came to us, yet I recalled the secretive nature of her delivery by a nun. I also remembered my parents’ whispered conversations, especially in those early days, and then how drastically my father had changed. He’d gone from a man who’d loved the previous king—King Francis—to a man who pledged his loyalty and life to Ethelwulf. I’d eventually despised him for the way he’d chosen to serve the new king with such fervor and devotion.
When I’d grown old enough to see the full effects of Ethelwulf’s reign, the terror and cruelty with which he ruled his subjects as well as the exorbitant taxes he demanded from rich and poor alike, I’d questioned my father even more. How could he bow his knee to such a man?
Until this moment, it hadn’t occurred to me that perhaps he’d only been playing a part. For surely Sister Katherine would have taken extreme care to place Adelaide with a family loyal to King Francis. Did that mean Father hadn’t been as devoted to Ethelwulf as I’d assumed? That perhaps he’d remained a loyalist all along?
Outside a short distance away, Mitchell motioned at me from where he stood with Tall John by the horses, holding the reins of Adelaide’s mount. He hadn’t wanted Adelaide to give away any of the winnings, had asked her to save the gold for supplies we might need on our journey. I had agreed with him, and his unease matched mine.
Sister Katherine had indicated we had two hours and already we’d taken up the better part of one in readying to leave. Although I admired Adelaide’s desire to ensure the well-being of the tenants who relied upon her, we were wasting precious time.
My lips started to form Adelaide’s name. But I stalled. As the oldest of the three lost princesses and as the queen of Mercia, I could no longer simply address her as a young noblewoman. I had to give her the proper respect due her station.
“Your Majesty,” I said with a bow. “Shall we be on our way?”
Her eyes flashed to mine and filled with censure for revealing who she was.
“Your Majesty?” said the elder, his eyes widening.
If Adelaide had any chance of regaining the throne from Ethelwulf, she could no longer hide who she was. She had to reveal she was queen, especially to those who loved her. She would need their aid.
“Shall I tell them or will you?” I asked Adelaide.
“I do not know if this is the proper place—”
“You must do this now everywhere we go.” I was overstepping my bounds, but I was unable to stop myself from being straightforward with her as I’d always been. “You will give people hope for a better future, and in so doing will rally their support.”
She contemplated my words only a moment before nodding. “You are right, my lord. You may tell them the truth.” She didn’t wait for me to speak but instead ducked past me out into the darkness of the night.
I made brief work of explaining that Adelaide was the queen of Mercia, the oldest daughter of King Francis and Queen Dierdal. Then we were on our way before the elder and his sons could ask questions or even pay their proper respects.
“We must find a safe place to hide,” I called out once we were riding away from the village. I positioned myself alongside Adelaide while Mitchell and Tall John led the way. A sliver of moonlight provided ample guidance, although on Langley land, we could find our way well enough without it.
“Where do you suggest?” She was riding low, her cloak flowing behind her, covering her armor. Gone was the gown she’d worn earlier in the evening, the one that had taunted me with how grown up and beautiful she’d become.
Even so, I couldn’t keep from picturing her again, so regal and dignified, already so queenly. Though I’d had no right to react to her, my heart betrayed me with a desire for her I couldn’t explain.
“We could ride into Norland,” I said, forcing myself to remain objective. “You would find sanctuary there. King Draybane is a kind and noble ruler, one who would welcome you and support your quest to regain the throne.”
Ethelwulf had made a certain enemy of King Draybane, especially after plaguing Norland for years with attempted invasions. While Ethelwulf hadn’t been able to penetrate the mountainous Highlands on their shared border or Norland’s rocky cliffs along the shoreline, he’d resorted to terrorizing Norland’s ships through blockading and pirating. In fact, Ethelwulf had attacked Norland for so many years that King Draybane would welcome anyone who might be able to bring an end to the greedy king’s reign. At least I hoped so.
The pounding of our horses’ hooves filling the night air nearly drowned out Adelaide’s question. “Is it my quest to regain the throne, Christopher? Sister Katherine believes so. But is it really possible for me to prevail against King Ethelwulf?”
Was it? I didn’t know. There was no denying Ethelwulf was powerful and always had been. I’d been only a young child when he’d conquered Mercia. All I’d ever known was the lawlessness, danger, and poverty his reign had wrought in both Mercia and Warwick. Although I hadn’t liked it, I’d tolerated it like most people.
Until one of my trips with Father to Delsworth shortly after turning seventeen.
We’d happened to ride into the capital city after several noble families had been accused of disloyalty to the king—disloyalty for once having sons in King Francis’s elite guard unit. As we’d ridden through town, we hadn’t been able to avoid passing by an entire noble family hanging from poles that lined the main thoroughfare, from the nobleman all the way down to his infant grandchild. I’d been sickened by the sight of the bodies swaying lifelessly, rotting under the hot summer sun, the ravens already pecking the decaying flesh.
When another of the accused families had been paraded on the city street before their hanging, I’d pleaded with Father to stop the brutality and the injustice. How could Ethelwulf punish these families for something their sons had done years earlier?
But Father had hardened his face and looked the other way. He hadn’t raised even the slightest breath of protest.
My youthful anger had taken control of me. I’d called my father a coward for his unwillingness to defend the family. I’d believed Father was wrong for not taking a stand against Ethelwulf and had let him know exactly how I felt about him.
I’d left Mercia shortly after that. I’d wanted to do something about the injustice, to raise an army of other discontents to fight against Ethelwulf. But I’d known I would need the assistance of someone greater than myself if I was to have any chance at succeeding. So I’d gone to King Draybane of Norland and offered him my services. Over the past five years, I’d not only defended Norland against Ethelwulf, but I’d organized concerted raids against Ethelwulf’s ships.
Meanwhile, I’d bided my time, hoping and praying one day I could form an army from those who’d fled from Mercia—an army who, with the help of the king of Norland, would be able to surround Ethelwulf and force him into surrendering his hold on the country.
While I’d made progress in uniting other exiles into the beginning of a formidable foe, we’d never gained the momentum we needed. Was our failure because we’d lacked a true leader, someone worthy and capable, someone the people would love? Ultimately, someone they’d be willing to die for?
Could Adelaide be that person? I glanced at her riding next to me, her fortitude evident in the set of her shoulders. She’d always been a strong and determined girl but was even more so now that she was a woman.
More important, her kindness and compassion toward the people who made their home in Langley knew no bounds. She’d also continued in Father’s footsteps, taking care of all the laborers at the Everly iron smelter. If she had already shown herself to be just and merciful and fair here, she’d surely have compassion for the rest of her kingdom.
Yes, I
could see the potential in her. She still had much growing to do before she’d be ready to rule. But she was of royal lineage, with more rights to Mercia’s throne than Ethelwulf. Was it possible to bring the exiles, rebels, and other discontents to Adelaide’s side? What about the many who still lived in Mercia but despised Ethelwulf?
Adelaide glanced at me, but it was too dark for me to gauge her expression. “You have nothing to say, my lord? You think because I am a woman I cannot match King Ethelwulf?”
“Far from it,” I replied. “I was just thinking that perhaps you are exactly what the people need.”
“In what way?”
“I believe many have resented Ethelwulf’s rule. He has brought much pain and heartache to Mercia. Maybe not all have been as openly defiant as I have been, but they dislike the king’s presence nonetheless and will be ready to embrace you as a kind, good, and benevolent queen.”
“You have more faith in me than I have in myself.”
“I see now what I never saw before—that Mother and Father trained you to be more than ordinary.” I’d assumed they’d allowed Adelaide to participate in our tutoring, fighting, and leadership lessons because she hadn’t wanted to be left out. But by including her on so many aspects of running the estate, they’d been preparing her for the role she would one day assume in running the kingdom.
“What you lack,” I said, “you will easily learn.”
“I pray you are correct.”
“Then I shall take you to Norland to King Draybane.”
“You have no right to make the decision on where we will go.” Mitchell maneuvered his steed alongside Adelaide and now joined our conversation. “The nun said we must seek out Adelaide’s sisters, that together they will find the treasure.”
“Of what treasure does the nun speak?” I asked. If Adelaide had access to even a small supply, we would have the possibility of hiring mercenaries to aid our rebellion.
“King Solomon’s treasure,” Mitchell replied.
I couldn’t contain a laugh at Mitchell’s mention of the legendary fortune that all kings had sought but none had found.
“’Tis no laughing matter,” Mitchell retorted. “Mother gave Adelaide a key to the treasure, one she’d held secretly all these years. And I believe the other two princesses may each have one of the other keys.”
I had read the account of King Solomon’s wealth, but I’d never heard of keys and had always assumed the stories about an ensuing treasure were myths. After all, how could remnants of Solomon’s vast wealth, including chests of gold, survive the ages? If the legend was true, surely the riches had been found long ago. Or perhaps it was simply impossible to find. “What do you think, Adelaide? Do you believe such a treasure still exists?”
I expected her to scoff at Mitchell with me or at the very least to join in my skepticism. But she did neither and instead spoke in a low voice I could hardly hear above the clatter of our beasts. “Already I have had to believe things I never thought possible. Why not this too?”
Ahead our trail narrowed as it began a slow descent into the river valley and level plains. Adelaide nudged her horse forward to take the lead next to Tall John. I sensed our conversation was ending, that she no longer wished to discuss the matter of the queenship or elusive treasures. I could only imagine the shock she’d experienced when she’d learned her true identity as not merely one of the lost princesses but the heir to the throne. It would take time for her to accept the truth and all it entailed. We would need to be patient with her.
“We must follow Sister Katherine’s instructions,” Mitchell insisted. “First we need to find Emmeline in Inglewood Forest and Maribel at St. Anne’s in the Highlands.”
I shook my head. “We would do better to ride to safety in Norland and come up with a strategy—”
“Who placed you in command?” Mitchell’s voice contained the same bitterness I’d heard earlier over dinner. Long gone was the younger brother who’d followed me around with admiration, and in his place was a man I hardly knew. I clearly had much work to do in repairing our relationship.
Before I could formulate a response. I sensed a rumbling through the earth below us. The slight tremor in the ground was followed by the heavy thundering of horses.
Our pursuers had found us.
Chapter
8
Christopher
My senses went into warrior mode. Apparently, Sister Katherine had miscalculated our lead. Either that or Ethelwulf’s men were faster than she’d anticipated. If they were a part of his elite guard of specially trained knights, they’d not only be swift but would excel at tracking.
Mentally I berated myself for not hiding our tracks better. I’d expected that once we left Langley land we’d follow Finham Brook as far north as it led. But I hadn’t thought we’d need to be careful so soon.
I attempted to gauge the size of the band on our trail. At the same time, my mind scrambled to find a way to elude them. I was a strong soldier and could fight off many men. But I didn’t want to take any chances around Adelaide.
“Ethelwulf’s men are already upon us,” I called.
“Can you tell how many?” Tall John asked glancing over his shoulder at the darkness behind us. The severity of his tone told me he’d sensed the pursuers the same as I had.
“My guess is less than a dozen.” Too many would slow down their chase and bring them unwanted attention. Rather Ethelwulf would work secretively, hoping to catch Adelaide before she could flee too far or gain help.
“Can we outride them?” Tall John asked.
“No,” I responded. “At least not for long. We need to take cover.”
“There is no place nearby that will afford us cover,” Adelaide responded, kicking her steed into a gallop. “We shall have to fight them.”
My insides protested the very prospect, especially with Adelaide involved.
“They may outnumber us,” she called, “but together we are stronger.”
“The gorge ahead,” Mitchell shouted, urging his horse to stay with Adelaide. “We can cut them off.”
I knew the narrowed path of which he spoke. It would only allow one horse and rider through at a time. Mayhap such a strategy would slow the enemy down and give us an advantage. I’d have to pray so.
As we charged forward, my body still protested the prospect of Adelaide joining the skirmish. She might be a fighter, but she was no match for Ethelwulf’s elite guard. Even if she hadn’t just revealed her true identity to me, I wouldn’t have wanted her to join the battle. Now I wanted it less.
On the other side of the gorge, we circled our steeds so that we were facing the ravine. Through the black of night, I attempted to scan the landscape around us, hoping to gain my bearings after so many years away, even as I loosened my bow from the saddle and slung it over my shoulder in readiness. Oncoming torchlight rent the darkness. The lights flickered up and down, bouncing along with their riders. My horse whinnied, sensing the peril every bit as much as I did. “Adelaide, this is too dangerous—”
“Do not underestimate me.” The rasp of metal against metal told me she’d unsheathed her sword. “I have never cowered from danger, and I shall not start now.”
I wanted to chastise her for being reckless and naïve. This was not the time for heroics. Yet once Adelaide made up her mind to do something, she was too strong-willed to be swayed.
I could not bear the thought of her getting hurt, and my blood pumped hard with the compulsion to protect her. The country needed her. The rebel band in Norland needed her.
Did I need her too?
It was an unbidden question I didn’t have time to answer.
She charged back toward the ravine before I could stop her. Mitchell and Tall John spurred their horses after her.
“If the battle does not go in our favor,” I called out, “one of you must take Adelaide away, even if you have to drag her.”
“I shall protect her with my life.” The fear in Mitchell’s voice told me he k
new as well as I did the stakes were high—too high.
Even as the first of Ethelwulf’s men charged through the gorge, I broke off the path and wound my horse toward a large outcropping of boulders to my left. Behind me, the clamor of battle rose in the air—the shouts of men and the clash of swords.
Using the horse’s momentum, I jumped onto the boulder and began to scramble upward, climbing the loose rocks until I stood at the top of the gorge. I positioned my bow with one hand and with the other slipped an arrow from the quiver at my belt.
A wounded cry echoed in the opening ahead.
“Saint’s blood, Adelaide.” My pulse accelerated at the realization the scream could have come from her.
From my height and by the light of the torches of two squires who’d reined well away from the gorge, I took aim at the black-cloaked knight making his way through the ravine opening. I sighted the weak spot in his armor at his neck and then released the arrow. Without waiting to see if it hit its target, I had another arrow nocked and took aim at the soldier directly behind him.
Shouting from the others in the gorge told me I’d lost my advantage, and I ducked in time to avoid a volley of return arrows. Rapidly I crawled backward and descended until I had aim of the knights who’d already made it through and were fighting.
With anxiety roaring in my veins, I honed in on the guard closest to Adelaide. She swung her flail expertly but the knight was twice her size and strength. As he swept his sword toward her, I located the defenseless area in his throat and let my arrow fly.
He collapsed, but immediately two different knights converged from the ravine upon Adelaide. Mitchell intercepted one. The other raised his dagger and swiftly lunged toward Adelaide.
I released an arrow, this time sending it through the soldier’s leather glove, piercing his hand, and stopping his momentum. Adelaide had already swiveled to fend another attacker, heedless of how close she’d come to harm.
