by Jody Hedlund
We shoved and struggled until finally it shifted enough to reveal what appeared to be a tunnel. With renewed enthusiasm, we doubled our efforts until at last the boulder gave way to a dark passage that sloped gradually downward in the direction of Wellmont ruins.
Our horses had to duck low and balked at entering until Tall John lit a torch from his pack. Once inside, we slid the entrance stone back into place with greater ease than we’d had in opening it. After two dozen paces, we came to a cavern that was spacious enough for our horses to rest while we navigated the remainder of the distance alone.
Though the earth was damp with puddles on the floor—likely from the recent rains—the tunnel was free of obstructions. Supported on the top and sides by wooden beams, some appeared newer than others, and I guessed Tall John’s stories about rebels finding refuge under the ruins were truer than we’d realized.
Having to crouch, Tall John led the way with the torch. Other than a few rodents skittering away at our approach, we were eerily alone, the mustiness of wet soil and rock our only companion. With each step closer, my anticipation of seeing Christopher mounted.
“Mitchell was a fool to betray Christopher,” I muttered.
“Sir Mitchell was merciful.” Tall John’s voice echoed in the hollow tunnel. “Lord Langley would be dead if Sir Mitchell hadn’t locked him up.”
I’d already come to the same conclusion that if Christopher had remained free to fight Captain Theobald’s forces, he wouldn’t have survived. I hadn’t considered, however, that locking Christopher away had been an act of mercy on Mitchell’s part rather than a jealous tantrum. Was that possible?
“In fact, we’d all be dead if not for Sir Mitchell making the deal with the captain,” Tall John continued. “He knew we were surrounded and that the only way to survive was to turn you in with the key.”
“Even if Mitchell believed he was doing the right thing by handing us over to Captain Theobald and refusing to fight, he should have been honest with us.” As the words tumbled out, a niggling of guilt tugged at me. Perhaps Mitchell had felt he’d no other choice but to lie. If he’d told us, we’d have done as we pleased without any thought to his plans.
“He was only trying to save us,” Tall John insisted, swiping at a cobweb that impeded our progress and showed the passageway hadn’t been used in a while.
“You may be right. Nevertheless, he neglected to inform me he’d petitioned the king for permission to marry me.”
“To save you from a match with Lord Mortimer.”
“I had no intention of marrying Lord Mortimer.” I stepped carefully through a particularly large section of water, my hood brushing against the dripping ceiling.
“Sir Mitchell got wind of a rumor that Lord Mortimer was planning to ride to Delsworth for the purpose of arranging a marriage to you.”
My thoughts returned to my last encounter with Lord Mortimer who’d been on his way to Delsworth for that very reason. Was that why Mitchell had traveled to the capital city? So he could appeal to the king before Lord Mortimer did and purchase the official seal first? “Mitchell thought to do the honorable thing and marry me for himself?”
“Aye.”
I swallowed hard against a sickening lump in my throat. I couldn’t keep from thinking back to the way I’d rebuffed Mitchell all day. Had I rushed to judge him? Apparently so. Perhaps he’d harbored good intentions even if he’d gone about it the wrong way.
“I shall set things right with him when we next meet.”
“Next? I highly doubt there will be a next time.”
“Certainly the captain will show a measure of leniency. He said King Ethelwulf wanted to question Mitchell further.”
“That captain will torture Sir Mitchell badly for aiding your escape.” Tall John’s voice turned hoarse with emotion.
The sick lump fell to my stomach. Of course. The captain was sure to be infuriated when the guards went into my tent and discovered Mitchell there in my stead. But I’d been so focused on saving Christopher, so determined to hold Mitchell responsible, that I hadn’t given enough thought to what Captain Theobald would do after I escaped.
I tried to shut out the images of what would happen to Mitchell, but the visions swarmed into my head regardless—visions of him being dragged from the sleeping mat, pushed to his knees, and then beaten, perhaps even killed.
“Do you think the captain will spare Mitchell’s life?” I asked.
Tall John paused. The torchlight illuminated the straight path and a door ahead.
“He is a nobleman and a loyal follower of the king,” I said, as if defending Mitchell to Tall John might actually save him. “The captain will punish him but surely will not kill him, not if the king desires to question him.”
Tall John didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. I knew he was thinking the same thing as I. King Ethelwulf would be infuriated to discover Captain Theobald had had me within his grasp only to lose me. The captain would need to blame someone for his mistake, and Mitchell would provide an easy target and an easy way to deflect the king’s anger.
I pressed a hand to my mouth to hold back my nausea. I wanted to halt, bend over, and give in to the need to be sick. But a new sense of urgency propelled me forward. When we finished freeing Christopher, I had to return for Mitchell. I couldn’t let him suffer and die, especially at the hands of Captain Theobald.
As we reached the end of the tunnel and the doorway, I met Tall John’s somber gaze and prayed we’d be able to rescue Mitchell before it was too late.
Christopher
The scrape of a distant door startled me awake. I sat forward, my knife out, my body tense. My limbs had grown stiff from the damp chill as well as from all the battering I’d done trying to free myself.
Had Mitchell finally realized the foolishness of his plan and come back? More likely Tall John had found a way to escape from Theobald and had returned to set me free.
The squealing of rusty hinges was followed by the glow of light coming from one of the many tunnels that branched out from the dungeons. Was this newcomer a friend or foe?
I scrambled to my feet and pressed against the bars, prepared to bargain for my freedom no matter who was coming.
“Christopher?”
My body tensed at the familiar voice. “Adelaide?”
Footsteps pounded nearer. “Where are you?”
“Here, in the third cell.”
With the growing torchlight, I could see the bars again, as well as the passageway leading away from the cells.
“Are you hurt?” I strained to get my first glimpse of her.
“I am unharmed.”
At the news, I released my breath, unaware I’d been holding it, and I whispered a prayer of gratitude heavenward.
Within seconds, she was standing in front of the cell door. If I hadn’t heard her voice, I would have mistaken her for Mitchell since she was wearing his garments and chain mail. Behind her, Tall John held up a torch giving me a glimpse of her face. Her beautiful face, a face I’d thought I’d never see again.
More gratitude welled in my chest and clogged my throat so that for a moment I couldn’t speak. I could only take her in and assure myself she truly was alive and untouched.
“The keys, my lord?” Tall John asked.
“Over there at the base of the stairway.” As Tall John went after the keys, I knew I should be thankful Mitchell had left them behind and that they were still accessible amidst the rubble, but I was too frustrated with my brother to feel anything but ill will toward him.
“And you?” Adelaide said, examining me the same way I had her. “How do you fare?”
“Now that I know you are safe, I can die in peace.”
“You will not die today, my lord. I shall not allow it.” Though her voice was forceful, it wobbled on the last word, telling me more than anything else that our situation was still dire.
The lock was stubborn, and Tall John had to fight to twist the key. When it finally gave, I shoved at th
e door at the same time Adelaide tugged it open from the other side. I couldn’t reach her fast enough and gathered her into my arms.
She didn’t resist. In fact, she seemed as eager as I was to embrace. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed tight. “I did not know if I would see you again.”
I tugged off the hood of her surcoat and chain mail and then kissed the top of her head just like a father or cousin would do—at least that was my intention. But as my lips pressed against her silky hair, I couldn’t make myself move back. My relief was so overwhelming that I closed my eyes, buried my nose in her hair, and breathed her in.
She was alive. At the moment, I never wanted to let her go or allow her out of my sight.
The warmth of her breath tickled my neck, and stirred longings within me I couldn’t even name. All I knew was that I wanted to kiss her. Desperately. As if in kissing her, I could somehow ease the torture I’d experienced over the past twenty-four hours of not knowing whether she was dead or alive.
I didn’t care that Tall John would witness the kiss. I didn’t care that I was hungry and thirsty. And I didn’t care that we were still in danger. I needed to taste her lips more than anything else.
Before I could shift and capture her, she released me and took a step back so I was left with no option but to let her go.
“We must be on our way,” she said, nodding toward the passageway they’d used to find me.
I stepped from the cell, having had my fill of the dark dungeons, and I fought against my need to draw Adelaide back into my arms, to reassure myself she was safe and alive, to feel her warmth and the silk of her hair again.
The somberness in her expression stopped me.
“My lord.” Tall John bowed his head, his countenance equally grave.
“What news do you have for me, John?”
Tall John looked to Adelaide, clearly deferring to her for leadership. She didn’t wait for me to question her. “We need to return and rescue Mitchell.” She spread her feet apart, as though prepared to fight me to have her way.
My mouth was parched, my body sore, and my eyes still adjusting to the torchlight after so many hours in complete darkness. And at the moment, I simply couldn’t fathom exerting any energy to rescuing Mitchell. “Whatever trouble he is in, he has brought it upon himself and deserves the consequence.”
“He sacrificed himself for me,” Adelaide replied.
“He handed you over to that bloodthirsty fiend, Theobald. You are fortunate you remain in one piece and that the captain did not cut you apart one limb at a time.”
“Mitchell believed he was saving us from bloodshed.”
“He was a fool.”
Adelaide’s chin jutted stubbornly. “He may have been rash, but he acted in love.”
I’d had plenty of time in my cell to vent my frustration over Mitchell. Though my anger toward him still burned low in my gut, I wouldn’t speak ill of him now. Perhaps I’d betrayed him by kissing Adelaide, but his retaliation could have cost Adelaide her life. I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive him for that.
“I intend to go back and free Mitchell,” Adelaide said. “I welcome your assistance, but I will go whether you give it or not.”
Chapter
19
Adelaide
We made quick work of backtracking to our horses. I didn’t begrudge Christopher the time he needed to refresh himself with the little food and water remaining of our supplies. But I was anxious to be on our way, knowing the longer we delayed, the worse Mitchell would fare.
Even so, the moment we opened the stone door, we realized a contingent of Captain Theobald’s men swarmed the ruins looking for us. He’d obviously discovered the duplicity shortly after I’d left and had been close behind.
While I’d wanted to rush out and fight the men, I held back and instead prayed for wisdom regarding my endeavor to reach Mitchell. In doing so, I realized that wisdom required taking into account the advice of others. With both Christopher and Tall John’s admonition to wait in seclusion until the elite guards gave up their hunt, I settled against the cavern wall and slept for a few hours.
When we emerged at midday, the guards were gone. They apparently hadn’t known about a secret opening that led under the castle ruins, or they wouldn’t have given up the search.
With his own steed confiscated by Captain Theobald, Christopher climbed on Roland behind me, and we started on our way toward the coastal road. Tall John led us through secluded meadows and woodlands in an effort to avoid any of the captain’s men who might still be searching the countryside for me.
While we rode, I explained to Christopher all that had transpired the previous day and night and how in the end Mitchell had been the one to set me free at his own expense. That even now, Captain Theobald was likely punishing and perhaps killing him for the deception.
“Then our mission is indeed futile and foolish,” Christopher said. “The captain will have sent men to fetch you. By the time we evade them and reach Mitchell, he will be dead.”
The June day had turned hot, with the sun’s ray shimmering on the land. Where summer rains had fallen only yesterday and turned the fields green, today the withering heat was already at work to deplete the moisture.
Christopher’s realism withered me the same way.
“Must you always stomp all hope?” I responded as anger and aggravation collided within my chest.
“No matter my personal frustrations with my brother,” Christopher said, “I cannot offer you hope regarding his life when there is none.”
“I realize you think we are wasting our time, and if you do not wish to do this, I shall not hold you to it.” My tone was irritable, but I was tired and discouraged.
“I have always been honest with you, Adelaide,” Christopher said quietly. “Even when the truth is painful.”
Normally, I could accept Christopher’s forthrightness. But today, at this moment, I wanted—no, needed—to cling to the hope I could help Mitchell. “There are times when we need to hold out faith and hope even when the circumstances seem impossible.”
I touched the place where my pouch contained the slip of paper Mitchell had handed me, the parchment he’d found in the scriptorium. Although I hadn’t seen the scriptorium ruins, I guessed it had been among the outbuildings he’d explored, a place where monks had meticulously copied books by hand.
At one time, the building would have been filled with old texts and scrolls, all of them brimming with wisdom and knowledge, just as the pomegranate on the key suggested. I could only imagine Mitchell’s excitement when he’d discovered the scriptorium and even more the remains of a stone bookshelf with the keyhole.
I hadn’t studied the parchment long, but I’d realized it was a piece of a map. An unusual map, to be sure, one I assumed would lead to the hidden treasure when it was reunited with the missing part. Was that why Mitchell had been so willing to give Captain Theobald the key? Because he’d already found what we needed?
Maybe Christopher could make more sense of the map than I could.
“Mitchell found something at the ruins,” I said, slipping out the parchment.
Christopher leaned his head over my shoulder to study the paper. His breath against my cheek dispelled all other thoughts save his nearness. His chin brushed my tender skin, and the scratchiness of his unshaven stubble sent a tremor through my stomach.
I wanted to relax into him and let myself savor this closeness. But after our kiss and his pushing me away, I didn’t know if I could handle further rejection—not today, not with everything in tumult.
As much as I cared for Christopher, I couldn’t allow my feelings to run away and dictate my behavior. After all, emotions were fickle and never formed a solid foundation for any decision. I’d do well to heed Christopher’s advice to sacrifice my personal desires for the greater good of Mercia and her people.
Even as Christopher pressed in closer, I sat rigidly until finally he finished studying the parchment. For some time we
discussed the possibilities and came to the conclusion that it was indeed a part of a treasure map, but of where, we could not decipher. Certainly not any place within Mercia that we knew.
Though Christopher remained skeptical, I guessed that if a treasure did exist somewhere, we would still have need of the key to access the treasure and would now have to wrest it away from King Ethelwulf. But I could only pray I was wrong.
As we neared the coastal road, the land gradually gave way to rolling hills and fields. With no sign of Captain Theobald or his men, we rode well into the night until we finally came upon the campsite of the previous eve. The area was deserted except for several young shepherds resting with their sheep. A bonfire beckoned along with the scent of roasting meat, but Christopher bade me to remain in seclusion with Tall John in the depths of the wooded area while he spoke with the shepherds.
When he returned, he informed us that the king’s soldiers had gone north on the coastal road toward Delsworth and were stopping and searching merchant vessels for the escaped Princess Constance.
Since we didn’t know for certain whether some of King Ethelwulf’s men were still searching for us in the countryside as well, we continued traveling, keeping to footpaths and deer trails. In the early hours of the morning, Christopher led the way to a manor home of a family he claimed had loyalist leanings who would be able to offer us a meal and shelter.
Once we arrived, news of my presence spread throughout the area so that nobility, tradesmen, and peasants alike gathered to get a glimpse of “Queen Adelaide Constance” as they called me. I was afraid all the attention would lead Captain Theobald and his men to the manor, but Christopher assured me the captain wouldn’t attempt to recapture me amidst so many people, that he’d likely wait to draw me out and isolate me.
Christopher spent most of the day in meetings with locals, inviting me to join in after I’d rested. He again reassured me the support was a good sign, an indication the people were ready to oust King Ethelwulf and embrace me as their rightful ruler.
