The Prisoner of Silverwood Castle

by Marie Treanor

  “Kasimir,” I whispered, relief whipping over me with enough force to dizzy me.

  But it wasn’t a man’s laugh that emanated from the hood. A gloved, womanly hand emerged from the cloak and pushed back the hood to reveal immaculately dressed grey hair and triumphant eyes.

  “There you are,” said the Baroness von Gratz, peeling off her gloves as several men emerged out of the shadows all over the hall, advancing upon me. I spun around, desperate for a way out, and found only more men. I was trapped.

  The baroness smiled. “Lady Guin,” she said, and I saw that she held a flask. “Have some tea.”

  I sprang away from her with a cry, straight into the arms of the men behind me. Although I struggled and writhed, and even got in a kick and a couple of punches that elicited surprised male cursing, I was subdued with pitiful ease. There were simply too many of them. My arms were held by two different men, my legs clamped between someone else’s. Someone else again held my head, roughly, painfully forcing open my jaws as the baroness poured the liquid from her flask straight into my mouth.

  “Hold her still,” she snapped. “She’s resistant to the stuff, so it all needs to go down her throat.”

  I spat out the first foul mouthful, all over the baroness, I was fiercely glad to note. But although she tutted with distaste, she simply pinched my nose in her free hand and poured and poured until I was choking in the vile stuff. She was killing me as she’d killed Kasimir. Tears of helpless anger and injustice and grief spilled from my eyes, but I couldn’t even cry out, only splutter and drown in the lethal liquid that wasn’t even tea.

  Kasimir, Kasimir.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dreams. A thousand ugly, distorted nightmares lurked in my mind, blessedly fading as a cool, beloved hand stroked my forehead. His presence enveloped me, holding me calm and peaceful at last. His shock of thick blond hair and his fine, handsome features swam in front of me. Perhaps we were in heaven together. Which would be ironic since, secretly, I’d never quite believed in it.

  He smiled. “There you are. I thought I’d lost you.”

  “I thought I’d lost you,” I whispered.

  “Never think that.” His hand smoothed my cheek, butterfly light and yet the sweetest touch I’d ever known. “Hold on, and remember and everything will be well.”

  “Everything?” I asked doubtfully, and his quirky smile was everything I remembered.

  “Everything.” He bent his head and kissed my mouth—so strong and heady. My body melted into a sea of bliss and expectation as I felt the caress of his, full of promise. “And now, you can wake up.”

  I opened my eyes.

  Sunshine streamed in through two large windows into a spacious, luxurious room. I lay between crisp, fresh sheets in a soft, comfortable bed.

  Beside me, a dark-haired young woman I’d never seen before set aside her book and smiled. “There you are.”

  “Why do people keep saying that to me?”

  “Do they?”

  I decided to let that one go for now. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Barbara Darke. I believe you sent for me.” She spoke with a quiet humour I immediately liked. Although her hair was pinned somewhat severely behind her head, she was unexpectedly beautiful, her face delicately boned and yet strong featured, her eyes both clear and somehow private. I was sure I’d never met her before, though her name seemed vaguely familiar.

  “Sent for you?” I repeated. “I’m sure I was never so rude… Oh wait, are you Caroline’s friend who knows about ghosts?”

  “That describes me adequately for now.”

  “I only meant to write to you, not drag you all the way to Silberwald.”

  “I was with Caroline in France when your letter reached her, so I decided just to visit you. Would you excuse me one moment?” She turned to a maid who had just come in with a tea tray. I eyed it with disfavour. “Please tell the duchess that Lady Guin is awake,” she said in passable German.

  The maid curtseyed and left. I didn’t think I’d seen her before. She certainly wasn’t the one who’d made up my old bed.

  “Augusta is here?” I asked in surprise.

  “Oh yes.”

  I frowned around my surroundings. “Where is here?”

  “Silberwald Castle.”

  Memory rushed upon me, and I threw myself up into a sitting position.

  Immediately, Barbara Darke’s hand was on my shoulder, firm but gentle. “Be easy, don’t rush things.”

  I ignored that. “Where is Kasimir?”

  “I’m not sure who that is,” she said cautiously, “though you said the name a lot in your fever.”

  “Fever?” I stared at her. “Have I been ill?”

  “Very, I understand.”

  “Oh no… How long?”

  “Two weeks, I bel—”

  “Two weeks!” I threw off the bedclothes, but indeed I was weak as a kitten, and I didn’t throw them very far.

  Mrs. Darke pulled them back over me.

  “Dr. Alcuin,” I said urgently, although surely he couldn’t have lingered here for two weeks? “I need to speak to him immediately!”

  “Would Dr. Hiltbaum do?”

  “No,” I said, baffled. “But this is dreadful! Two weeks in bed when I’m meant to be helping him!”

  “Helping whom?” Barbara sounded perplexed. “Dr. Alcuin?”

  “Kasimir!”

  The bedroom door opened, and Augusta walked in, looking more annoyed than gratified to see me recovered.

  “Gussie, where is Kasimir?” I demanded.

  “I don’t know who your wretched Kasimir is! You’ve been babbling about him since you were taken ill. Is he a character in one of your stories?”

  I scowled. “Of course not.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Why of course?” she demanded.

  I supposed she had a point since I had notebooks filled with stories, many of them featuring characters with very exotic names. But before I could think further on this, I became aware of the woman who’d entered behind Augusta. Tall, slender, elegant, and grey-haired.

  Instinctively, I threw myself towards the edge of the bed to get as far away from her as possible. “Oh no! Get her away from me!”

  “Guinevere!” Augusta said impatiently. “Where are your manners? The baroness has nursed you as if you were her own daughter! I understand you’ve been fevered, but you must pull yourself together and show some proper respect and gratitude.”

  I stared from her to the baroness, no doubt with my mouth opening and closing like a fish’s. “You gave me tea,” I said weakly. “Only it wasn’t.”

  “It was,” the baroness said with a kind smile, “although I confess it had medicine in it. Dr. Hiltbaum insisted it would help, and look, it has.”

  “Why did you follow me here?” I demanded.

  A tiny frown formed between her brows. “Follow you?”

  “From Rundberg,” I said impatiently.

  The baroness glanced helplessly towards Augusta, who sighed. “I hope to God this is temporary and the fever hasn’t addled your brain for good. Guin, you’ve never been to Rundberg. We had to go for the coronation event without you. You were too ill.”

  I stared at her, uncomprehending, baffled. “I never went to Rundberg? At all?”

  “You haven’t been anywhere. You must have got ill on the journey from England, and we didn’t notice. By the time we reached the castle, you had a raging fever. You’ve been here ever since.”

  Oh no. That wasn’t right. “I went to the masquerade ball,” I remembered. “Prince Heribert got drunk and had to be put to bed. I danced with lots of people. Bernhard von Gerritzen, Kasimir…”

  Augusta rolled her eyes. “Kasimir again. Guin, there was no masquerade ball, and I don’t know either of these gentlemen. There was a ball,
without masks or disguises, but you were too ill to attend. Then we left you here while we went to Rundberg. The baroness kindly stayed behind to nurse you.”

  I fell back against my pillows in shock.

  “I’m sorry,” the baroness said gently. “It was a bad time for you, drifting in and out of consciousness. It’s natural you associate me with those painful memories, since I was there for so much of it.” She turned to Augusta. “I think she would be calmer if I left you for now. You know where to find me.”

  My gaze followed her all the way out. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  “You’re confused,” Augusta said bluntly. “Your dreams must seem more real than reality. Like your wretched books.”

  She had another point. Disconsolately, I looked away, and my gaze fell instead on the serene face of Barbara Darke. I sprang upright. “Of course! I wrote to Caroline! That’s what brought this lady—”

  “You did write to Caroline,” Augusta admitted, “and I nearly didn’t send it because of the state you were in. Some incomprehensible gibberish about ghosts. We humoured you and sent it.”

  “Then Caroline is here too?” I asked eagerly.

  “No, Caroline went home to Yorkshire. Sir Neil was taken ill. But she sent Mrs. Darke in her place to make sure you were quite well—which, of course, you weren’t.”

  “I only arrived yesterday,” Mrs. Darke informed me.

  I licked my dry lips and Mrs. Darke immediately lifted a glass of water from my bedside table. When I took it from her, my hands felt so weak, I really began to think I might have been ill for two weeks.

  I took a few sips. The water was fresh and welcome.

  “So,” I said, lowering the glass but holding it on my lap. “You and I, Augusta, have been in Silberwald only two weeks in total?”

  “Give or take a day, but yes, around that.”

  “And none of the people I remember truly exist?”

  “I don’t know about none,” Augusta said doubtfully. “You did wander about a little before we could keep you to one room and make you go to bed.”

  “In a small room in the old part of the castle?” I said. “Just the sort of place I like—bare stone, medieval, cobwebs…”

  “Cobwebs!” Augusta snorted. “My dear girl, do you really imagine my sister would be given a bedroom with cobwebs? I am the duchess!”

  You shouldn’t be. The words died in my throat, unspoken. I was no longer sure of them. I wasn’t sure of anything.

  “I have appointments, Guin,” Augusta said briskly, “so I have to go. I’ll look in on you later.”

  I nodded and watched her leave too. I felt my throat work with emotion as I brought my gaze back to Mrs. Darke.

  “How is Sir Neil?” I asked.

  “I don’t know for sure, but not good.”

  “Poor Caroline. She’s devoted to him.”

  “I know.”

  “He’ll probably revive now she’s home,” I said hopefully.

  “Probably.”

  I shifted restlessly and took another drink. My whole body felt bruised and helpless. Distracting myself, trying to care, I said, “Why were you and Caroline in France?”

  “I went to see about a teaching post at a school on the Swiss border. Caroline came with me on impulse.”

  I blinked, intrigued in spite of myself. “You are a teacher?”

  She nodded.

  “Will you take the post?”

  “Probably. I haven’t decided yet. At least they offered it to me.”

  “Why wouldn’t they?”

  “I have an odd reputation in some circles. Although I have excellent written references, the unwritten sometimes follows me.”

  “What sort of reputation?” I asked curiously.

  She looked at me directly. “The one you wanted me for. I am a spiritual medium. We must talk very soon. Now, I think you should eat to begin to regain your strength.”

  “An hour,” I said aloud. “The housekeeper said she’d bring me dinner on a tray in an hour…”

  “And did she?” Barbara asked, pulling the silken bell rope.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. Inside me something ached, because I didn’t want to let it go. I didn’t want Kasimir to be a dream. I didn’t really see how he could be. Hold on, remember and everything will be well.

  And yet Augusta…Augusta never troubled to lie to me. And the Kasimir who’d said those words just before I woke up hadn’t been real. I knew that much.

  * * * * *

  I ate and slept all night, and then ate again. By that time I began to feel almost human once more, almost like myself. The terrifying weakness seemed to have left my limbs, to the extent that I could walk to the water closet and back on my own. After which, Barbara helped me to dress.

  “You’re very quiet,” she observed,

  “I’m thinking,” I told her.

  She nodded and asked nothing further, merely picked up her book and read until I said, “Would you walk with me? I’d like to do a little exploring, and if I’m alone, I’m sure I’ll be stopped.”

  It can hardly have been the most gracious invitation she’d ever received, but she set aside her book and stood without a quibble. “By all means, let us explore.”

  When we left the room, she waited for me to decide on direction. With no frame of reference, it didn’t matter to me. I set off to my left, along wide, gracious corridors. As we turned a corner, I suddenly realized I recognized the doors ahead.

  “These are Augusta’s apartments,” I said.

  “I believe so,” Barbara returned.

  “How do I know that?” I mused. “Because I wandered around in a fevered state before they made me go to bed?”

  “It could be,” she said noncommittally.

  I kept walking. I wanted to prove Augusta wrong. My memories of the last two weeks were just too detailed, too real to have been the result of fevered dreams. For one thing, how could I even have begun to imagine Kasimir making love to me? I had never seen a man’s private parts before, and the size of a fully erect penis had been well outside my knowledge or experience. I wondered how I would go about finding out if my memory of Kasimir’s was accurate…

  We passed Augusta’s apartments without anyone emerging to observe us. This part of the castle was all familiar to me. I led Barbara faultlessly along the passage towards the older part of the castle.

  At last, we turned into my own passage—and came to a dead end. The entrance to the corridor had been filled in with bricks from floor to ceiling.

  Barbara was watching me, but she didn’t speak.

  I walked slowly forward and pushed against the wall. “It’s new. Why is it here?”

  I swung around and saw a footman striding past towards the man staircase. “Wait,” I called to him, and he swerved towards us at once. “What’s your name?”

  “Johann, my lady.”

  “Do you know what’s on the other side of this wall, Johann?”

  “The old part of the castle, my lady. The wall was put up to make sure nobody wandered in there by accident. It’s crumbling and dangerous.”

  “I see. When was this wall built?”

  “I don’t know, my lady, I’m new. But I think it was recently. It’s being decorated on Monday.”

  I nodded. “Thank you, Johann.” As he bowed and walked away, I said to Barbara, “Why? My bedroom was there. I could draw you a map of how to get from there to the tower where Prince Kasimir was kept prisoner. The duke didn’t want me here because I was too nosey and unpredictable and too likely to ferret out his secrets. He and the baroness tried to make me leave by constant disrespect and in the meantime, drugged my tea so I wouldn’t hear Kasimir at night.”

  Even as the whole story spilled out, I knew it sounded ridiculous. I just couldn’t stop myself saying it, to show
Barbara Darke I knew the whole conspiracy, and that being here, she had to be part of it. And then I thought, if she wasn’t part of it, she’d think I was insane. And I’d just have lost myself the only ally I had.

  While I spoke, she rested one hand against the new wall. After a few moments, she jerked away from it without explanation. Instead, she let me finish. Then, she turned with me and we began to walk back towards my room.

  “Will you let me speak to the duke?” she asked at last. “Ask him to come and discuss your concerns?”

  I was about to shake my head in miserable frustration, until it struck me that I could only learn from such an encounter. He might even let slip some clue as to where Kasimir was, and what had happened to him. I might even get him to admit what he’d done!

  “Yes,” I said, walking quickly back along the corridor. “If he can spare the time, I certainly can.”

  * * * * *

  I thought I might have to wait a day or so for the duke to find a moment for me in his busy life. But the first surprise of the encounter was that it happened late that same afternoon. The second was that the duke didn’t seem quite as I remembered him.

  I was sitting in my chair, full of restless energy that Augusta, Barbara, and the maids all strongly advised me not to give into. They said I’d been ill too long.

  Maybe, I thought mutinously. And maybe I was only heavily drugged for two days. Maybe what I remembered of the previous two weeks really had happened.

  When Barbara answered his knock, the duke entered my room alone without his usual entourage. He still held himself stiffly, his severely cut hair and neat moustache adding to the cool, military bearing. But he actually looked at me as if he saw me, with more than toleration and no annoyance. In short, a faint frown between his brows and something unprecedentedly gentle in his steady eyes told me he was actually concerned for me.

  Normally, he greeted me with no more than a nod. This Leopold came right up to me and took my hand and called me by name.

  “I’m so glad to see you looking better,” he said, his stilted voice almost warm. He let go my numb fingers and sat in the chair Barbara had placed on the opposite side of the fireplace. “Although I understand you are unhappy about things you remember from your fever. I would like to help you if I can.”