by Jody Hedlund
Chapter
7
Felicia
We stopped the next morning only long enough to relieve ourselves and the horses. Otherwise, Lance pushed us onward as fast as he could go without tiring the horses unnecessarily. By mid-afternoon, he allowed me to take the reins while he slept in the back for a couple of hours.
I didn’t want to admit I’d never driven a wagon before since I’d always had servants to do the job. But I caught on soon enough and realized that on this particularly straight stretch of road, the horses probably could have guided themselves, likely why he’d allowed me the reins.
I was thankful for the wide-brimmed straw hat sheltering me from the sun. I’d formed a blanket tent over the girls in the wagon bed and was grateful for Constance’s help soothing and feeding the babes.
Around us, the wheat, rye, and barley fields spread out endlessly. Occasionally I met another traveler or came upon a grouping of thatched peasant homes, but I passed quickly without stopping. At times as I drove, I felt as if we were the only ones in the whole world. I rather liked the idea and found I didn’t miss court in the least.
In the quiet, I reviewed my conversations with Lance of the previous night.
You’re a woman of great valor and inner strength. And you’ve earned my admiration, not my disdain.
Those particular words reverberated in my soul, unlike any compliment I’d ever received. And I’d had plenty of them. In fact, the men at court made a contest out of who could pay the most elaborate and winsome compliments to the women they pursued. As with most of the courtship process, so much focused on the outward appearance. I couldn’t remember any person praising me for anything besides my beauty. Except now with Lance.
But Lance was unlike any man I’d ever met. Not only was he from a different class and from the king’s elite guard, but he seemed to feel and think deeply, two qualities I appreciated and respected.
Over the course of the night, I’d learned about his upbringing in Stefford, another one of the Iron Cities. Although his father was no longer alive, he clearly loved his mother as well as his younger sisters and brothers, all of whom he supported with his income. He hadn’t seen them since he’d turned ten and had been fostered out to begin his knight’s training.
Nevertheless, he had fond memories of his childhood, of going to the smelter and working alongside his father, even if the work had been hard and dangerous. I’d been surprised to discover boys as young as eight worked full days in Mercia’s many smelters and forges, melting down the iron ore in a hot and time-consuming process that extracted the iron from the rusty rocks and produced an iron bar. Lance had explained that the iron was then transferred to the forges where other tradesmen shaped it into the many items that made Mercia a wealthy country.
I hadn’t expected Lance to show any interest in my background and my family. But once again, he’d surprised me by asking questions about my past so that we’d shared long into the night until I’d finally fallen asleep sitting next to him. When I’d awoken later, I’d been startled to realize I’d leaned my head on him and that he’d braced me with his arm.
“To keep you from falling off the wagon,” he’d explained as he rapidly removed his hold and put as much distance between us as the small wooden bench would allow.
At a shifting in the wagon bed, I glanced over my shoulder to see that he’d lifted himself to his elbows and was peering down into Emmeline’s bag. He reached a hand tentatively inside, and a look of such wonder and tenderness softened his countenance I couldn’t contain my smile.
“Watch out,” I said, “or she will hook you and will not let you go.”
Lance looked up at me and smiled. My breath caught at the sight, at just how ruggedly handsome his grin made him, so much so that I couldn’t keep from thinking about the brief kiss I’d given him last evening. When I’d seen him coming toward me, I’d been overcome with relief and had only planned to smooth over his awkward attempts to act like my husband, which I’m sure no one had believed, at least until I’d greeted him with a kiss.
Even so, the moment my lips had touched his cheek, I’d realized my mistake. Lance wasn’t like the men at court who gave kisses the same way they did compliments. He wasn’t one to play games or dole out his affection without merit. Instead, I suspected he’d reserve his affection for one woman who would have to be special to claim his heart.
I forced my attention to the path and the horses before he could see the nature of my thoughts, for he had an unnatural ability to read me. “You must have a pretty lady somewhere anxious to know how you are faring.” I said the first thing I could think of, but once it was out realized how silly I sounded.
He didn’t answer for a few seconds. “I’ve pledged my life in service to the king. I vowed to remain single until death or discharge.”
“Oh.” Somehow, I hadn’t expected his declaration, even though somewhere in the back of my mind I’d been aware such regulations existed.
“And you,” he said after several moments. “You’ve left a man behind, perhaps your intended?”
I shook my head and gave a short laugh. “No. I am not betrothed. Not yet.”
“Then there is someone special.” His low tone was much too serious and drew my gaze to his ruggedly strong face. He met my eyes only for an instant before focusing on my shoulder. I wanted him to look at me as an equal, to do away altogether with his respectful custom of dropping his gaze. But how could I convince him?
I sighed. “I did not cooperate well with the courtship process. I could find no satisfaction in a match centered on outward qualities rather than inner.”
“I commend you for that, my lady.”
“Felicia,” I said softly. “Just Felicia.” Maybe we couldn’t be equals, but that’s all I wanted to be, especially for the rest of our trip. I didn’t know what my future held now that I’d made myself an enemy of the new ruler. I’d certainly not be able to return to court if King Ethelwulf even had a court. I’d likely never be able to visit my home, at least not for a long while. I didn’t know what I’d do or where I’d go once the princesses were safe.
“What will you do after we deliver the princesses to the abbey?” I asked. He’d surely be in a similar position, perhaps even worse. “You will not be able to return to the army, will you?
“No, my lady.”
I wanted to correct him but sensed he’d conduct himself with as much honor as he could, no matter how much I implored him.
“Ethelwulf will slay much of King Francis’s guard as a precaution,” he said somberly. “Those he allows to live will surely be better off dead.”
I swallowed my revulsion. “Do you think any of the men will be able to escape?”
“I pray so.”
In the distance, clouds seemed to gather on the horizon, and I hoped we wouldn’t have to face rain. Already I was weary from the past two days of travel. Rain would surely slow us down and make us more miserable than we were.
When we stopped a short while later, Lance fixed his attention toward Everly. He studied both the sky and the plains, seeming to take in every tiny detail. Finally, he sniffed the air several times, and his expression turned grim.
“What is it?” I asked as I held Maribel and let her finish the last of her bottle. Unlike her younger twin, Maribel was fair, with lighter eyes and a slight layer of silky blond hair on her baby head. I had the feeling she’d favor her older sister more than Emmeline would.
“Someone is on our trail.” Lance rounded the horses, his movements suddenly brisk and purposeful.
My pulse gave an unsteady thump. “Perhaps other travelers fleeing the city like us?”
Lance’s fingers flew over the traces as he unhooked them. “They’re moving too fast to be anything but our pursuers.”
He didn’t need to say more. I stood and rapidly situated Maribel in her satchel. Then I took Emmeline from Constance, even though she wasn’t finished feeding the babe, and tucked her into her bag as well.
“You are such a good helper, Connie,” I said as calmly as I could to the princess. I didn’t want to frighten her, but the urgency coursing through me must have tinged my voice, for the girl’s eyes widened and filled with anxiety.
I worked for several minutes, cushioning and securing the babes amidst their blankets. When I finished, I was surprised to see both horses unhitched from the wagon. Lance had condensed our remaining supplies into one sack and slung it over his shoulder.
“We’ll need to leave the wagon behind if we’re to pick up our pace,” he said. If we have any chance of outrunning our pursuers. I could hear what he left unspoken, but I, too, refrained from voicing it. I didn’t want to frighten Constance any further.
Lance hoisted me up onto the bare back of the first mare and made quick work of strapping one of the satchels in front of me.
Then he lifted Constance and the other satchel to his steed and mounted behind them. “I’ll lead, my lady. You must push your horse hard to keep up.”
Without waiting for my response, he kicked his heels into the horse’s flank and spurred it into a gallop. I did likewise. Horsemanship was nothing new to me. Like most noblewomen, I’d learned to ride early in my life, and I could do so with dexterity. Nevertheless, I wasn’t sure how long our mounts could keep such a fast pace without tiring.
As the sun began to wane in the west, I was relieved to realize the clouds in the northeast were not clouds at all, but hills. We were within sight of the eastern Iron Hills, which briefly filled me with renewed hope. However, after the fall of darkness, we had no choice but to slow our mounts, and my hope began to plummet. Under the clear skies, a half moon showed the range gradually rising higher with miles upon miles of open plains between the foothills and us.
The babes had awoken hungry, and we’d stopped to feed them and water the horses. But it hadn’t been long enough to satisfy any of us, particularly the babes. We’d listened to their pitiful wails until they’d fallen into an exhausted slumber.
I wanted to do nothing more than bend my head and sleep too. But without a saddle, I risked falling off. So I forced myself to stay awake, rehearsing all the details I’d learned in my lessons about the history of Mercia from the days long ago when King Ethelwulf’s grandmother, Queen Margery, had attempted to steal Mercia’s throne just as King Ethelwulf was now doing.
Twins ran in the royal family, for Margery had a younger twin sister, Leandra. Rather than choose one of the twins to rule the land, their father, King Alfred the Peacemaker, had divided his kingdom of Bryttania into two smaller realms, Mercia and Warwick. He’d given Mercia to Leandra and Warwick to Margery.
For a while, the twin sisters had each ruled their kingdoms peacefully. Then Leandra had died in childbirth. Even though Leandra’s infant daughter Princess Aurora had lived, Margery had decided that Mercia belonged more to her than to Leandra’s husband and newborn babe.
So began years of Margery attempting to hunt down and kill the Princess Aurora. Eventually, Margery had failed. When Princess Aurora had come of age, she’d taken her place as the ruler of Mercia.
Since that time, Margery’s heirs had never ceased believing Mercia and Warwick should be united again and that their family deserved to control both realms. Now Margery’s grandson, King Ethelwulf, was fulfilling what he believed was his destiny, reuniting the land into the country it had been under the great King Alfred.
But at what cost? And who was to truly profit from such a move? From what I’d heard, King Ethelwulf was as brutal as his grandmother had been. Although Warwick was known for its beautiful gemstones and craftsmanship, the country had been suffering and dying for decades. Nothing good came from Warwick any longer.
Would the darkness spread to Mercia?
By the time dawn lightened the sky, the tall hills towered near us, their craggy peaks majestic above the thick evergreen tree line, especially with the glow of the rising sun behind them.
We’d begun a gradual climb in elevation. I suspected we still had quite a distance to travel before we arrived at St. Cuthbert’s, and I prayed the horses would have the stamina to finish the ride.
“We have to stop soon,” I called to Lance as Emmeline began to fuss again, this time with more vigor.
“We can’t!” Lance shouted. “They’re too close now.”
I glanced over my shoulder, surprised to see that we’d climbed higher than I’d realized. The fertile Eastern Plains spread out in a beautiful coverlet of amber and chestnut and beige. In the distance, on the grassy road we’d just traversed, I could make out the figures of what appeared to be several black horses without riders. A second glance revealed longer legs, narrow muzzles, and sharply pointed ears.
Those weren’t horses.
My heart scurried into my throat and lodged there painfully. They were black wolves, likely from among the wild beasts that roamed freely in the Highlands. Were these wolves chasing us? I’d only heard stories of beast controllers, the Fera Agmen, who had the ability to train wild animals to obey their every command. Rumors regarding the Fera Agmen told of their powers to read animal behavior and communicate with them so effectively they could be persuaded to kill.
Whatever the case, someone had sent the wolves to track us down, and the deadly beasts wouldn’t bring us back to King Ethelwulf alive.
I kicked my mare frantically, but she was lathered with sweat, foaming at the mouth, and couldn’t go faster even if her life depended upon it—which it did.
Chapter
8
LANCE
I CHARGED UP the narrow ravine, scanning the rocky banks on either side. “Go ahead of me!” I shouted to Felicia. “And ride into the abandoned mine.”
The panic that had been building inside my chest over the past several hours of hard riding had swelled into a heavy stone weighing me down more than anything ever had in my life. I didn’t have the time to analyze why I was so frightened. All I could do was react on instinct and training.
The crown princess had been brave all night and clung to the bag containing her baby sister. She rode low and hadn’t made a sound except to soothe the crying babe from time to time. Already at three years of age, she was a girl I could admire. Someday she’d make a worthy queen, one I’d be proud to serve. If I could manage to keep her alive.
In the jagged cliffs above, I located the large stone I’d seen from afar. I slowed my horse and began to rise on its back. “Stay low, Your Highness, and hold on.” I straightened to my full height and balanced on the horse’s hindquarters. Then, allowing the momentum of the steed to give me a boost, I leaped and found a foothold in the rock wall. Hand over hand, I climbed up the stones, using the crevices in the wall as leverage for my feet. When I finally pulled myself to the ledge where the large stone rested, I glanced down the ravine to see that the leader of the wolf pack had already bounded into the narrow passageway.
I didn’t have much time, which meant I had to act right away. I shoved the stone, pushing at it with every ounce of strength in my body, the strength I’d honed and developed over years of grueling drills involving riding, running, swimming, crawling, and climbing We’d been trained to go days without sleep and food, all the while constantly fighting and exerting ourselves. In fact, the training was so intense at times, those who couldn’t handle it died or dropped out of the king’s army.
All the hard work had prepared me for any conceivable situation, including the possibility of taking the royal family to safety. While I was holding up physically, as I knew I could, I wasn’t able to shake the strange new fear clutching my heart.
Don’t let your emotions get in the way of what you need to do, I silently admonished myself as I heaved my full weight against the boulder. It slid, and smaller rocks crumbled away. I grunted and pushed the stone again, this time moving it far enough to dislodge it from the ledge. I didn’t watch it fall. Instead, I shoved at the rest of the rocks of various sizes, sending a shower down with it.
The boulder picked u
p speed, barreling into other large rocks and knocking them loose until an avalanche of stones poured into the ravine and formed a wall between the wolves and us. The steep pile of debris wouldn’t hold the fierce creatures for long, but it was enough of an impediment to give us more time.
I scrambled down and sprinted to catch up with my horse, racing until I grasped its tail. Swinging up behind the crown princess, I urged the steed to move faster.
If my memory of what I’d learned about the eastern Iron Hills held true, the old mine would give us shelter for a few hours, at least until I had the chance to explore the old tunnels and see if I could discover another way out. Otherwise, I’d fight the wolves to the death.
Ahead, in the flat side of a cliff, an opening beckoned me. Braced along the edges with beams, the door wasn’t tall, and I flattened myself against the princess and satchel as I charged through. Felicia had already dismounted and stood ready by a thick slab of wood, which she began to shove over the door. The rusty bearings screeched in protest against the equally rusted iron track, and Felicia moved the door mere inches.
I jumped from my mount and pulled the door from one end as she pushed from the other. The metal scraped and screamed until with a final shove the door slid closed, shutting out the last few inches of light. I didn’t know how intelligent the wolves were, whether they’d be able to figure out a way to slide the door open, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I fumbled for a beam to wedge it in place.
Only after it was securely sealed did I stand back and attempt to catch my breath.
“Praise God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,” Felicia whispered, exhaling shaky bursts of air that mingled with the heaving snorts of our mounts.
The sunlight coming in from the cracks around the door dimly illuminated the cavern. It wasn’t large but was spacious enough for the horses. I’d figured it would be since the early miners in these parts had once used mules to help transport loads of ore in carts out of the tunnels and down the ravine.
