“Tremaine.” I smiled with extra warmth and kindness to make up for what I’d come to do. “Goodness, do they never let you of here?”
“I’m still proving myself, your grace,” he said shyly, coming around to push the door closed behind me. “I’m not here all the time. We don’t get that many prisoners. What are…?” He faltered, answering his own question. He was a soldier, lived in the barracks with Markus. He knew exactly who his prisoner was.
I waved the bottle of whiskey at him, repeated my story of last drinks and final words as I glanced around, reacquainting myself with the dismal accommodations. The underground water gargling from the drain, no doubt contributing to the damp and foul odour. Shadows that moved when they should not. This place gave me the chills.
At the back of the cave, Markus held onto the bars with one hand and watched from inside the cell. I hated seeing him like that, caged, helpless. As I approached, I saw the shirt cut away on his other arm, his wound dressed and bandaged.
“Doctor Lossing was here?”
“General Sunderland summoned the doctor to patch him up,” Tremaine said.
“They couldn’t have me bleeding out all over the hangman’s knot,” Markus drawled.
“That’s not remotely funny.” I reached up to wrap my hand over his around the bar, studying his familiar face. The weathered creases at the edges of his eyes that mapped the scowls and laughs and all the in between. The flattened line of his mouth, neither a smile nor a grimace, just acceptance of the way things were. This wasn’t the first time we’d been here, with no choice but to press forward no matter how bad the future looked.
“I thought I’d always be around to protect you.” His gaze dropped, then lifted to me again. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t…” Emotion swelled my throat, my eyes. This wasn’t goodbye, not the way he thought, but it was an ending of sorts. At least for the foreseeable future. I turned from him to Tremaine. “I can’t do this through bars.”
The boy’s freckles blended into a deep blush of awkward indecision as he realized I wanted him to open the cell. “Your grace, I don’t think—”
“You can, and you will,” I said firmly. “The exits are all well-guarded, Tremaine, and you have your sword. Lock me up inside with him if you must.”
He wouldn’t. And it wasn’t only Tremaine. The other escorts from my short stay down here had been the same, uncomfortable with the mere suggestion of causing me distress—and that was before I was their Queen.
The keys jangled as Tremaine reluctantly pulled the ring from his belt and did as I asked. He couldn’t lock me up. He couldn’t leave Markus in an open cell. He couldn’t disobey a direct order. He couldn’t neglect his duties. Such is the way of men who serve a King…or Queen.
His relief was palpable when Markus didn’t immediately rush out and overcome him. Instead, I went inside the cell and drew Markus over to the rolled-out straw mat on the floor. We sat down, backs to the wall. Markus took the bottle, poured me a measure of whiskey in the mug and kept the bottle for himself.
I sipped, waiting until Tremaine retreated to the table and chair near the door before I turned to Markus. “I should have tried harder to make you see I was okay. With Nathanial. With this marriage. With what my future holds.”
Markus slugged from the bottle. “There’s nothing you could have done or said to make me believe that.”
“There was,” I sighed, and the truth of it blindsided me. “I was resigned to make my peace with Nathanial, and I think maybe a part of me needed you to keep the anger and hate alive for both of us. I just didn’t…well, obviously, I didn’t once imagine you’d actually go this far. I didn’t know we’d end up here.”
“I won’t let you blame yourself for my actions.”
“I’m not.” I drained the whiskey in my mug. “That was a half-assed, stupid, idiotic move and you won’t—” I tipped my head, slanting a dead-serious look at him. “You will not draw your sword on Nathanial again. Not ever.”
“That’s not likely to be an issue.” He drank from the bottle again. “But I hear you.”
“I need your word.”
Markus scrubbed his jaw, squared a bemused look on me before he gave a slow nod and thumped a fist to his chest. “You have it. Rose, I know I’m not about to receive a royal pardon from the bastard I’m not allowed to kill, ever.” He leant in, lowering his voice, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“You didn’t think I came all the way down here just to drink with you, did you?” I grinned and held out my mug. “Two fingers of the good stuff, if you’ll be so kind.”
While he poured, I reached inside my cape for the vial and snuck a look at Tremaine. He was still seated at the table, his attention turned in our direction, but he couldn’t possibly see into the recesses of the cell from across the cave. Still, I shifted to obscure his view before I tipped the vial to empty the contents.
Markus put his hand over the mug. “We should discuss this.”
“We definitely should not.” Sliding the mug out from under his palm, I pushed to my feet, calling as I walked, “Tremaine!”
Clearly assuming I was done visiting, he jumped up eagerly and hurried over with the ring of keys in his hand.
“Thank you for giving us some privacy.” I stepped out of the cell to ease any suspicion before it formed and offered the mug. “It means a lot to me and I feel as if you are part of this goodbye. That is the way I’d like to remember this evening. Share a drink with us.”
“I’m glad to be of help, your grace,” Tremaine said. “And thank you, but I can’t drink on duty. I’m not allowed to.”
“This is a symbolic gesture, not drinking on duty, Tremaine.” I pressed the mug into his hands. “I absolutely insist.”
He scuffed a boot, his gaze shifting unhappily from the mug to me.
Discarding the friendly warmth, I stared him down with a haughty brow. If that didn’t do it, I supposed I could easily grab his sword and subdue him. The sleeping draught would have been critical if there’d been more guards, a drink passed amongst them like a broom to sweep them off their… That thought trailed off as Tremaine put the mug to his lips and took a deep sip.
His eyes popped.
He spluttered, nearly coughed it all up but mistakenly choked it down again.
Dear Lord, please let that be the whiskey and not the potion. “Your first taste of whiskey?”
He nodded, handed the mug back to me with an uncertain smile.
“You get used to it.” I put a finger up and stepped back into the cell. “Just one more thing before I go.”
Markus had risen from the floor. He stood there, his back to the stone wall, arms crossed. His blank expression suggested he was unimpressed with the scene he’d watched unfold. In case I had any doubts, he drawled, “This isn’t going to work.”
Behind me, Tremaine groaned. I turned to see him slowly slide down the bars and crumple into a heap.
“Looks like it just did,” I said, relieved but not particularly joyous. This wasn’t my finest hour.
Markus moved, striding past me and out the cell. “I wasn’t talking about the boy.”
He went down before Tremaine to check his pulse, then rolled him onto his side.
I shook off the guilty weight and focused.
“The exits are guarded, so this is the only way out,” I said as I walked around them to hunch beside the drain. “David is waiting for you with a horse just south of town. There’s a waterfall. Do you know it?”
Markus strolled over to stand across the gargling drain from me. “I know it.”
I gripped the iron grating and heaved. It barely lifted an inch. “A little help here?”
He planted a booted foot on the grating. “Rose, you need to stop.”
I scowled up at him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not going to run away and let you take the fall for it.”
“That’s what Tremaine is for.” I rocked onto my backside,
my eyes dragging to the sleeping boy as I pulled my knees up to hug. Apparently we were discussing this after all. Markus was actually going to make me put words to my despicable deeds and thoughts. “He opened the gate to your cell. Joined us for a drink, but he couldn’t handle the liquor and passed out after I’d left.”
“He’ll remember you hadn’t left yet.”
“Maybe not, the mix of alcohol and potion may scramble the details.” I shrugged. “Even so, it doesn’t matter if I stood by and didn’t call for the guards when you took advantage of the situation and escaped. It’s not my job to keep you under lock and key.”
“Who the hell is going to believe all that?”
“No one has to believe.” My eyes cut to him. “I am immune from conviction of any crimes and prosecution. I cannot be judged or executed, although it wouldn’t do to be too brazen about it. Kings and Queens may do exactly as they wish, but it’s easier to swallow with the story of a plausible alternative.”
Markus shook his head at me. “This isn’t you, Rose.”
“I’m learning to adapt,” I said grimly.
He shoved a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the grate beneath his boot. “What if you’re wrong about that immunity?”
“Trust me, if there was the slightest chance I’d be incarcerated in the tower, let alone executed for my role in your escape, I would flee with you.”
He said nothing. Kept staring at the grate.
“Markus, if you don’t go, you will hang. Not next week. Not next month. You will die tomorrow, before the next sunset, that is what I know,” I said urgently, desperate to reach him. “Is that what you want?”
“We all die some or other day.” The ominous words strummed his lips like trails of a ghost wind. Then he looked up, his brown eyes warming into me, and I knew I’d reached him. “But not tomorrow,” he said.
“Not tomorrow,” I repeated as a promise, the sworn oath filling the space between us.
Together, we lifted the grate and slid it aside. The flow of water had to be an underground stream. The smell told us it likely carried the castle’s sewerage and would dump into the marshes.
Markus found a wry grin. “That’s where I’m going anyway. There’ll be a search party and if they bring the dogs, that’s the best place to keep them off my scent.”
“David is waiting for you,” I reminded him. “You’ll get there quicker on horseback.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be looking for the first opportunity to climb out of this stench,” Markus said as he lowered himself into the hole.
“Two days,” I told him. “That should give the dust time to settle, then I’ll come looking for you and we can talk.”
By then, I hoped to have a better solution than him living out his days in the swampy marshlands.
He steadied his feet in whatever lay beneath the gargling cesspit, and his shoulders were still above the level of the floor. Which meant he’d be crawling in that muck.
“Next time,” Markus muttered in disgust, “I’m planning the escape route.”
I smiled. “Go. And be safe.”
“You know where I’ll be.” He took another long moment to look into my eyes. “If there are any repercussions, you will give me up to them. Understood?”
The point was moot and arguing might just bring him back out of that hole. I nodded. “I swear.”
He helped me pull the grate into place and, with a whispered goodbye, he disappeared into the gargling stench of darkness.
- 20 -
Sleep never came for me that night. I flung my bedroom window open and curled onto the sofa, staring into the night with the breeze fluttering at the curtains and torment running rampant through my veins.
I didn’t dare venture outside to see if Markus had made it clear away. I’d passed through the guards stationed at the tunnel, doubled-back to ensure they remained at their posts and did not think to check that all was well in the dungeon. With a spit of luck, no one would know the prisoner was gone until morning or until Tremaine stirred—whichever came first.
Patience was the best chance I could give for Markus to escape and David to return. Kings and Queens could perhaps do as they wished, but that rule didn’t apply to their accomplices and I hadn’t acted alone. If David were caught, Lord knew what he’d be charged with. And poor Tremaine, my unwilling accomplice. He had taken the fall to ensure unrest didn’t erupt and tear this kingdom apart again.
I wasn’t sure Nathanial’s unity could withstand the blaring truth of my defiance. Then again, it wouldn’t withstand Markus’s death either. The King and Queen were at a stalemate with the innocent red-headed boy caught in the middle.
I could not…I would not have done anything different, but it still ate at me.
At some point after dawn, I did finally nod off for an hour or so. The last thing I remember was the pale pink and fiery orange fingers streaking the horizon, and then an unholy banging noise jerked me upright from my slump on the sofa. Bang. Bang. Bang. It took another moment for the source to penetrate the fog inside my head.
My gaze shot to the door, my heart hammering louder than the thumping fist on the other side.
I’d been expecting this, a visit from Nathanial that might very well end with me being dragged off to the tower. I may have immunity from the laws of the land, but there was no immunity from Nathanial’s wrath. He had his own special ways of bending rules when it pleased him.
I had not been expecting him to knock, though. I had not expected him to walk around when he usually just barged in from his bedroom. Unless he’d sent the King’s Guard in his stead?
I stretched my legs out from under me, placed my feet gingerly on the floor while I squinted out the window. The fingers of dawn were gone. The morning sun baked the air into a haze of humidity. I hadn’t been expecting this, either, for Nathanial to take this long to get around to me. And where is David? Has he not returned yet?
The door flew open, spinning me about as Amelia burst inside. Dressed in breeches and her navy riding jacket. She kicked the door shut behind her with a buckled boot and stormed up to me.
“I thought you’d flounced off with him,” she hissed, palms slammed down on the back of the sofa. “Why the hell aren’t you answering the door?”
“Keep your voice down!” I reached for the jug of water on a side table. My throat was parched and my head hurt. What was she doing here? Where was Nathanial?
“My voice is down.”
“Why bother?” I glared at her as I drank straight from the clay jug, suspicious to my bones. Nathanial hadn’t sent his Guard, he’d sent his lapdog. “You were banging loud enough to wake the dead.”
She threw a hand out. “And yet you managed to sleep straight through it.”
“I’m awake,” I grumbled, taking another swig from the jug before setting it down and planting my butt on the sofa. “What do you want, Amelia?”
“Seriously?” She stalked around the sofa. There was a look in her eye that made me regret giving David my sword. “I want to know where he is.”
“Who?” She meant Markus, obviously. But I wasn’t giving anything away until I absolutely had to.
“Don’t play games. I know you helped Markus escape.”
I laughed her off. “Where did you hear that?”
“I didn’t hear anything. I didn’t have to.” She dropped into a chair, not draping it in her usual style, but tense and upright. “Markus was in the dungeon and now he’s not. I don’t know how you did it, but I know you did. General Sunderland has search parties scouring the kingdom. If I don’t find Markus first, I guarantee the general will.”
“If you bring Markus back here, he’s dead,” I told her. “Nathanial has refused a pardon.”
“Of course he has.” She fell back in the chair, fingers drumming on the armrest. “I have no intention of bringing Markus back here, but he can’t stay out there. General Sunderland won’t stop sending out his sniff hounds. Markus will run out of kingdom to hide
in long before the general gives up.”
I had a little more faith in Markus’ ability to survive than she did, but I was curious. “He can’t stay out there. He can’t come here. What’s in the third box?”
“Take me to Markus and I’ll show you.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because I think Nathanial sent you,” I said flatly. “I think he sent you here to squirrel Markus’ whereabouts out of me.”
“Nathanial has no idea I’m here.” She leant forward again, elbows on her knees. “I’m worried about Markus. That’s all I care about.”
“Then why did you barge in here like a crazy woman ready to claw my eyes out? If you’re so convinced I helped Markus escape, why are you so mad at me?”
“I’m mad at you for putting him in the dungeon, not for getting him out,” she said, her tone blistering. “Of all the ways I imagined Markus getting himself killed, I never thought it would be fighting another man over a girl. Markus is blinded by loyalty to his High Chancellor, that I understand. But what the bloody hell is your excuse for pitting them against each other?”
I’d done nothing of the sort. I hadn’t tried hard enough with Markus, I knew that now, but that was none of Amelia’s business.
“I’m still confused,” I said, watching carefully for the usual ticks of lies as I toyed with a decision that could cost Markus his life. “Why do you care so much about what happens to Markus?”
She blinked once or twice. Not too much. Not too little. She didn’t wet her lips or shift in her chair or cross her legs or touch her hair. “Let’s call it friendly concern.”
“I spent a week riding with the two of you. There wasn’t very much friendliness going on between you.”
“Then you saw precisely what I wanted you to see.”
“You’ll have to do better than that.” Restless energy pushed me to my feet. I paced a short path to the window and back, there again and back, sending her fleeting glances as I spoke. “I don’t trust you, Amelia. I’m sorry. I like you, I really do, but the last time you had to choose between Markus and the King, you didn’t choose Markus.”
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