by Jody Hedlund
I emptied the contents of our supply pack and located flint. In no time, I made a fire and lit a torch. “I need to explore and find a way out,” I said as I started toward the main drift that descended gradually into the heart of the mountain.
Felicia nodded, already busy soothing the babes, who’d both begun to cry the moment we’d stopped moving. She’d taken bottles from the bags and given one to Princess Constance, and now the two fed the babes.
“The wolves will be outside soon,” I warned. “But don’t be frightened. They won’t be able to tear through the door easily.”
I’d hoped my declaration would offer some comfort to Felicia, but instead, the bottle in her hand shook even more. She looked up at me from where she knelt in the rocky debris. She’d lost her veil, and her hair had come loose from the simple plait she’d used for binding and coiling it. It now hung in long, tangled waves that begged to be combed back.
I couldn’t take my gaze from her beautiful eyes, so wide, so filled with fear, and yet so trusting. I shouldn’t look. I despised myself for my weakness. Yet for a precious few seconds, I allowed myself the pleasure.
“Tear through the door?” she finally managed, searching my face. I wondered what she saw there and whether she liked it. It was a strange thought. I shouldn’t care about her impressions of me. Nevertheless, I wanted her to think as highly of me as I did her, for once again, I’d seen the depth of her character reveal itself during the hard ride last night and today. She’d endured my pace without complaint. Although she’d grown weary, she’d persevered as well as any of my comrades would have.
“You have nothing to fear, my lady,” I said. “If the wolves break inside, I’ll fight them away.”
“Can you battle them all?”
“Aye.” I wouldn’t worry her with the fact that there would be at least three other wolves joining the pack within the next hour—the few that had lagged behind the punishing pace of the leader. I’d sensed their trail. In addition, I’d learned most black wolf packs from the Highlands traveled in groups of six. I would have to use every trick I knew and every ounce of training I’d ever had in order to defeat six. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was possible. At least I prayed so.
The best solution was to find a way for us to escape, and I had to do so now before more danger came upon us. I lifted my torch and shone it down the abandoned mine.
“You are a godsend,” she said softly.
Her words stopped me. Something shone in her eyes, something I couldn’t name, but speared my chest with the desire to hold her.
A godsend? Had God sent me to Felicia and the princesses? Was He at work in bigger ways than I’d believed possible?
As I ducked low under the wooden beams bracing the cavern and started down the slope toward the maze of tunnels running the length of the Iron Hills, the urgency inside me swelled so that my chest hurt. I had to find a way to keep Felicia and the princesses safe.
The thought rippled through my body, pressing down on me with that same frightening weight I’d experienced before. And suddenly, I realized what had happened. I’d allowed myself to do what my commanders had cautioned against. I’d allowed myself to care about my charges rather than staying impersonal and objective.
Felicia and the princesses had become more than just my assignment, more than mere bodies that needed guarding. They’d become real people I admired, whom I’d gotten to know and was beginning to cherish almost as much as I did my own family.
In fact, I was chagrined to admit, even to myself, how often my thoughts had strayed to Felicia during the previous long night. Although I’d refrained from glancing at her over my shoulder like I’d wanted to, my mind’s eye had vividly pictured her, especially the way she’d looked driving the cart yesterday with the sunlight spilling across her hat so that her face had glowed with a vibrancy and life that filled me with longings I couldn’t explain.
“Stay objective. Don’t feel. Keep alert.” I chastised myself with the many warnings of my commanders. Of course, my first real interaction with a woman was sure to tempt me after the years of keeping my distance from the fairer sex. I was bound to struggle as many of my comrades had.
Perhaps I’d even been too harsh on the men who’d broken their vows of singleness. I’d rushed to judge them, thinking I was so much stronger and better than they were. The truth was that I’d just never experienced the powerful draw of a woman.
Until now. Until Felicia.
Ducking under cobwebs and loose tunnel beams, I shook my head and willed myself to stop thinking of her, to focus on the job of finding a way out of the shaft. My footsteps echoed hollowly as I descended. The torchlight flickered upright, without a breeze or breath of air to guide me to another entrance or opening.
Keeping my emotional distance from Felicia would perhaps be harder than fighting wolves, but if I had any hope of saving her, I had to stay aloof and simply do my job.
I ran through the tunnels as best I could amidst the crumbling rocks. Deeper and deeper into the mine I ventured, searching for an exit or for a safer place for the girls until finally, I reached a cavern that opened up into a fresh pool. I bent and took a long drink, filled my leather drinking gourd, and then splashed the ice-cold water on my face. Fatigue crowded in with every breath I took, and I prayed I’d have the stamina to find a way out of our predicament.
A search along the edge of the pool brought me to a man-made aqueduct. It had likely once carried water from this freshwater spring to a different part of the mine but was now abandoned and dry. It wasn’t big enough for me to fit inside, but if I had to fight the wolves, Felicia and Princess Constance could crawl in with the babes and make their way to another level of the mine.
A distant, frightened scream sent a chill up my spine. It was too childlike to be Felicia’s, and I guessed it had come from Princess Constance. I traced my path back, my heart thudding hard enough to bruise my rib cage, my thoughts an anxious tangle rather than the usual calm reserve. By the time I dashed up the tunnel and into the cavern where I’d left my charges, panic overwhelmed me at the prospect that the wolves had made it inside and were even now tearing the girls apart from limb to limb.
At the sight of them still alive and unharmed, I stopped short, my lungs flaming. Felicia stood at the door, knife in hand, and was attempting unsuccessfully to slash a wolf whenever it stuck its paw or muzzle into the fist-sized hole it had already dug through the wood. Princess Constance crouched next to the satchels, one on either side of her, squeezing them closely. Her expression was wide with terror, and she cringed every time the wolf made an appearance.
I handed Felicia the torch, then drawing my dagger, I bolted across the cavern. The instant the wolf poked its nose through and bared its teeth, I took aim and plunged my weapon upward into its mouth, killing it in one thrust. With a jerk, I loosened my knife while the creature crumpled away from the door, likely hitting the ground and providing a stepping place for the wolves that would take its place.
Felicia had moved back to allow me access and now rushed to comfort Princess Constance and the babes.
I studied the gap and realized the door wouldn’t hold as long as I’d believed. I’d been gone for less than an hour, and already the beasts had chipped and broken away the rotting oak with their sharp claws and fangs. With all of them working together, they’d create a big enough opening in no time.
I crossed to my horse, retrieved my sword and flail, and led the horses to the far end of the cavern where they’d be away from the coming fight. I needed to take Felicia and the girls out of the way too, far out of the way.
“You must move deeper into the mines.” Before I could give further directive, the door splintered, and a wolf leaped through.
Chapter
9
Felicia
Constance screamed again and buried her face against my coarse skirt. At the sight of the enormous wolf, slinking down and baring its teeth in a growl, I wanted to scream too.
The
creature was the size of a grizzly bear, with its black fur standing on end, making it appear even larger. Its eyes glowed gold and blood-hungry. Somehow, the beast had managed to rip the hole wide enough to squeeze through. A second wolf was already pawing at the entrance.
We would soon be surrounded.
“Take the girls and run,” Lance said without shifting his attention from the wolf. He crouched, his sword in one hand and a flail in the other. He’d already started swinging the spiked ball that was attached to a chain and short handle.
The horses were snorting and whinnying in fear, their eyes as wild as my heartbeat.
With the torch in one hand, I grabbed the satchels in my other. “Come now,” I said to Constance, trying to keep my voice calm. “We must be away.”
The princess didn’t budge. Instead, she clung to my skirt as if burying herself there would make the terrible wolf disappear.
“Follow the path always to the left and it will lead you to a pool.” Lance crept nearer to the beast. “Find the aqueduct and crawl into it as far back as you can go.”
As he finished his instructions, the wolf bounded forward. It snarled and nipped at the air, revealing canines that were at least two inches long and deadly sharp. Lance didn’t react, but instead waited in a defensive position, twisting the flail methodically.
I crept back several steps, dragging Constance with me. She started to whimper, and I couldn’t fault her. Being hunted and attacked by wolves was nothing a child should have to experience.
Nevertheless, I had to follow Lance’s instructions and lead the girls away from the danger. The further I sidled toward the tunnel, the more my heart protested deserting Lance in such a dire situation. His comrade had already sacrificed his life defending us against the Saracens. The prospect that Lance was doing the same against wolves twisted like a knife into my side. I couldn’t just leave him behind to die, not after all he’d done to help me.
On the other hand, my higher duty was to the princesses, to the vow I’d made to the queen, and ultimately to the future of my beloved country. If I didn’t escape now, I’d likely fail on all accounts.
“Go, Felicia!” Lance called as though sensing my hesitancy.
I dragged Constance another pace, but at the cracking of more wood at the door, I spun in time to see an additional wolf, this one bigger than the last, climb through the hole. Without faltering, it lunged toward Lance with a feral howl. He swung his flail, and the spiked ball struck the wolf in the side, eliciting a squeal of pain or rage—I knew naught—before bounding up and skulking toward Lance again.
At the same time, the first wolf slinked along the wall and dashed into the doorway of the tunnel. There it halted with head low, pointing its growling muzzle at me and the princesses, clearly intending to keep us from escaping further into the mine.
I shoved Constance and the two satchels behind me and then unsheathed my knife. I had only strapped on the weapon when the head midwife had handed it to me in the queen’s chamber as I’d been preparing to leave Delsworth. I had no training in weaponry and hadn’t even been able to nick the wolf when I’d fought it through the hole in the doorway.
“I’ll distract it!” Lance shouted. “Then you must run!”
Before Lance could put his plan into motion, the first, smaller wolf sprang at me, flying into the air, its golden eyes fixed upon my throat. Though panic flashed through me—especially at the realization that the creature was about to slice me open painfully, perhaps lethally—I straightened my shoulders and braced myself. Better me than the princesses.
In an instant, Lance took in the situation. His desperate eyes met mine.
“No!” He pitched his sword like a javelin. It ripped through the air. The blade pierced the wolf’s chest through its heart and sliced out the other side. Even though life fled from the beast, the weight of it hit me. Its claws shredded my sleeve and tore my flesh. Fire rippled down my arm, and I fought not to scream from the pain.
The other wolf had launched against Lance the moment his attention had turned to me. Even as Lance swung his flail, the beast’s fangs clamped into his calf. The pressure and the yank from the wolf would have swept an ordinary man off his feet. But Lance brought his flail around again, this time directly down onto the creature’s skull. The resulting crack and howl were cut short with a slice across its throat with a short knife I hadn’t known Lance had. Where it had come from, I didn’t know. All I cared about was that the wolf released Lance’s leg and dropped to the ground dead.
Lance stepped over the animal with a decided limp in his leg. He shuffled awkwardly toward the hole in the door, his knife and flail lifted in readiness.
I reached for his sword protruding from the chest of the wolf at my feet. The hilt was cold and heavy in my fingers. I winced as I attempted to wrest it free, feeling the strain against the wounds on my arm, but the weapon was embedded deep and didn’t budge.
Lance peered cautiously out the jagged gap where the wolves had torn through the door.
“Are there more?” I asked.
Before he could answer, a snarling face poked through the hole and snapped at him. With quick reflexes, Lance dodged out of the way while swinging his flail against the wolf’s head. It hit with deadly accuracy, and the wolf squealed in pain before dropping away.
Lance didn’t take his gaze off the opening. “Work my sword free by wiggling it back and forth.”
I bent, placed my foot against the wolf’s chest. Gripping with both hands, I wrestled and tugged until finally the weapon slid upward, one bloody inch at a time.
While doing so, I felt an eerie silence descend. I stopped my struggle to watch Lance. He’d tensed and raised his knife, clearly expecting someone or something to come through the hole.
A happy coo rose from one of the bags and echoed in the cavern. Lance shot me a sharp look, a warning to keep the babe quiet.
I released the sword and hurried to the babes. Dropping to my knees, I peered into the satchel at Emmeline’s face. Her eyes were open, and she’d kicked her legs free from her swaddling. She was squirming, and at the sight of me stopped to stare, her eyes so sweet and trusting.
“You may cease your fight,” came a woman’s voice from outside the door. “I come to you in peace.”
I started to rise, but Lance held out a hand, motioning me to stay where I was.
“My name is Sister Katherine,” the woman said. “I am a nun, and I come to you from St. Cuthbert’s.”
Lance chanced a look through the hole. At the surprise registering upon his face, I rose and crossed to the opening. I glanced through and saw the first dead wolf that Lance had killed, along with three others now lying on the ground. They didn’t appear to be injured but instead were sprawled out as if they’d decided to lie down and take a nap.
A thin, middle-aged woman stood in the midst of the sleeping wolves. Attired in a long gray habit covered with a scapular that blended in with the stones around us, the nun was almost invisible except for her pale face and gray-blue eyes the hue of a mourning dove. Even the coif and veil covering her head matched the rocky background. Only the rosary made of wooden beads and tied to the belt at her waist provided any color.
Lance lowered his weapons, unlocked the door, and then pulled it open, the joints again squealing with disuse. I followed, leaving Constance and the babes inside, not wanting to put them at further risk until I knew more about this woman.
When I stepped outside behind Lance, the bright sunshine blinded me for a moment.
“What brings you to our mountain?” Sister Katherine asked kindly but with an edge that demanded the truth.
“We seek refuge.” Lance’s knuckles were white around his knife, and his eyes took in every detail of our surroundings.
If anyone could help us figure out how to save the royal princesses, surely the nuns of St. Cuthbert’s could.
“You have a little girl with you.” Sister Katherine peered beyond me to the mine shaft. It wasn’t a question b
ut a statement.
“Our three-year-old daughter,” I replied, unsure whether I could trust her yet to reveal the princesses’ identities. “Along with our newborn babe.”
It was her turn to study me, taking in my body and face, likely deducing I didn’t have the figure of a woman who’d recently given birth, and concluding I was no peasant. Whatever her thoughts, she kept them to herself and instead nodded at my arm. “We should get you both to the abbey and tend your wounds.”
Blood had seeped through my sleeve, turning the material a deep crimson. Although my arm still stung, the pain was bearable.
At the sight of my blood, Lance’s brows furrowed above worried eyes. “We would be grateful. But first I’ll kill the wolves so they can’t chase us down again.”
“There’s no need. The sleeping herbs are quick-acting but will last several hours.” Sister Katherine kicked at a piece of half-eaten raw meat she’d apparently laced with the concoction and tossed into their midst. “They won’t be able to track us since I’ll cover our trail with a dusting of mountain essence.”
Mountain essence? My curiosity perked, but before I could ask her more, Lance was already spinning and limping back to the shaft door. Only then did I notice the way his calf-length boot had been ripped away and his hose stuck to his leg, outlining indentations where the wolf had gouged his flesh. The surrounding area was dark and damp, the blood continuing to seep out and run down his leg.
Seeing the direction of my gaze, Lance slashed the hem of his tunic with his knife. The linen gave way with a sharp rend. Then he wrapped the strip tightly around his calf, apparently to staunch the flow of blood. He did so with ease as if he made an everyday practice of binding wounds. When he straightened and continued, I knew that was his way of telling me he’d taken care of the problem and wanted me to proceed without giving his injury another thought.
