Freeing Joslyn (Freeing Series)

by GG Shalton

  Time crept by as Joslyn stayed sitting with the other servants of the manor. She watched as trunks of valuables were stolen and taken away with soldiers. After what seemed like hours, one of the guards ordered a group of soldiers to escort the prisoners to the wagons. She overheard that half of the prisoners were being taken to a camp an hour away. Many of the servants cried, but Joslyn remained quiet, trying to not bring attention to herself. The other half of the prisoners were to be taken to a different camp.

  The warm sunshine practically blinded her as she stepped through the mud to the wagons that were lined up to take them away. Joslyn boarded the wagon without assistance, almost laughing at the irony of her life. Over the last year, she had been treated as a woman from different stations, she practically lost track of who she really was. She went from a poor blacksmith’s daughter, then engaged to a cotton farmer, to the mistress of the future king.

  She crawled to the back of the wagon, providing more room for others to board. The servants said nothing of her status and treated her the same as the rest. For that, she was grateful.

  An hour later, they arrived at a massive field full of tents. The rancid smell of open fires and sweat filled the air, and Joslyn covered her nose. Screams could be heard, and she cringed at the possibility of death. How could this happen to Mallard? Her countrymen were dying for a king who cared not for them.

  They were taken from the wagon to an area roped off for the prisoners, and armed guards stood close by preventing them from leaving. Joslyn eyed a group of women near a tree and walked over to them, taking a seat with the group and keeping her head down. Some women had children with them while others sat alone. No one spoke to her until she saw one of the men passing around small pieces of bread with cups of water to each of the groups. Joslyn took a piece, thanking the man giving it to her. “You’re new here?”

  Joslyn nodded putting some bread into her mouth.

  “Where are you from?”

  She hesitated before answering, “I am from Merle.”

  He wrinkled his brow in confusion. “Merle? Why did they bring you so far?”

  “I traveled with merchants and was caught at the Tomko Manor.”

  “The duke’s place?”

  Nodding, she took another bite of bread and washed it down with a sip of water. “Yes, but he was not in residence.”

  He studied her for a moment seemingly wanting to ask more but was interrupted by some of the other prisoners wanting their portion of bread. He nodded his head and walked away. Joslyn looked toward some of the soldiers who were checking out the female prisoners with crude gestures. She felt sudden panic run through her body. She recognized their looks of interest and knew she may not be safe among these men. Taking her fingers, she dug some dirt out of the ground and conspicuously rubbed some on her face. She had no band to hide her hair and instead pulled on it trying to knot it so that it appeared unkept.

  Joslyn sighed deeply, looking out of their makeshift jail. She could see a number of horses coming across the ridge toward the camp. They were holding a Burra flag and she shuddered at the thought of what would become of them. Slavery could be their best option if death didn’t claim them first.

  The men gathered and walked toward a bigger fence, she imagined it was some sort of meeting place. All the men were dressed in chain mail and looked ready for battle.

  “Misses?” Joslyn looked up to see one of the servant women from the manor.

  “Please, Sally. Just call me Joslyn. No one can know my status with the Royal Duke.”

  Sally sat down beside her. “Of course. I just wanted to thank you for helping Judy and Agnes escape.”

  Joslyn tilted her head, “How did you know?”

  “Margaret told me. She was hiding under the bed, but the soldiers found her after they took you away.”

  Joslyn closed her eyes, saddened. “I didn’t know she was there, or I would have tried to help her too.”

  Sally reached for her hand. “You did enough. All of the servants are grateful and will not give away who you are.”

  “Thank you, Sally.” Joslyn squeezed her hand as they watched a group of Burra soldiers approach the gate.

  A burly man with red hair and a stoic expression spoke, “I need all the women to come stand in a line behind me. We have some captains here who need workers in their camps to provide cooking and cleaning for our soldiers. If you work hard, you will be treated well. Any of you with healing skills will go with a different group.”

  Joslyn watched as a few women raised their hands and went with a different soldier. They were the healers and they needed them elsewhere. Joslyn stayed with the bigger group and would help with cooking and cleaning. She had many years of experience helping her family.

  The soldiers took them to the big tent and escorted them inside. They lined them up as the guards looked at them to take their pick. It was humiliating in Joslyn’s opinion. They were treating them as chattel. Hoping she was able to hide her face with the dirt, she prayed her fate would only be a future cook and not a mistress of the manor.

  She could hear whispers and murmurs as the men negotiated for the women. The men grew louder until a voice with authority rang out over all of them, “Halt!” She looked up to see a large man dressed in a military uniform with gold sleeves.

  Joslyn quickly looked away, trying not to give away her folly. She knew that man and tried hard not to bring attention to herself. Perhaps he didn’t recognize her? The silence overtook the room as he stepped in front of the women walking toward her. She lowered her head hoping he would keep walking.

  Looking at the boots that stopped in front of her, her eyes betrayed her as she looked up briefly and caught him staring at her. “Joslyn?” They stared at each other in consternation.

  She curtsied and whispered, “Your Grace.”

  Taking a step closer, he leaned down and whispered, “What has happened? I thought you would be in Locket with Andre?”

  Joslyn looked around her as the soldiers and other slaves awaited her reply. “I am not aware of Andre’s whereabouts. I was staying in his residence in Tomko.”

  Maxwell stared at her for a long moment and then looked away. He walked toward one of his officers and whispered near his ear, then walked out of the tent. The guard lifted his hand and yelled, “Carry on with the negotiations of the slaves.”

  The officers began bidding on the slaves again as Joslyn watched Maxwell leave the tent. A sinking feeling came across her chest as she lowered her head awaiting her turn. A few moments later, two royal guards dressed with gold stripes across their arms approached her. “You are to follow us.”

  Joslyn looked back at the others as a look of confusion crossed their faces. She glanced at the bigger guard. “I don’t understand. I have not been announced.”

  “His Grace has asked for you personally. We must escort you to his quarters.”

  Realization flooded her thoughts and she nodded, holding back her disgust. How dare he expect her to do his bidding! She stumbled along beside the guards as they pulled her through the tent. They walked along the mud until they approached a tent that she assumed belonged to Maxwell. She hesitated, but they pushed her inside and stood in front of him. Maxwell looked at the guards before addressing Joslyn, “Leave us.” The men ducked below the flap of the tent and left them alone.

  He smiled at her coyly, seeing her scowl aimed at him. “Please have a seat.” He pointed toward the side of the tent.

  She looked at the furs lined up on the side. Shaking her head, she looked into his eyes and replied, “I would prefer to stand.”

  Lifting the corner of his mouth, he snorted. “I would prefer you to sit and relax. Our discussion may take a while.”

  Pressing her lips together, she narrowed her eyes before complying. Sitting down on a makeshift bed was not her idea of relaxing, but she walked over to the side and sat d
own, holding her gown over her legs as modestly as she could.

  He walked over and sat beside her on the furs. “Joslyn, I am not your enemy.”

  “Are you not?” She huffed in annoyance. “In case you didn’t notice, I was in a group of prisoners being auctioned off to the highest bidder.”

  “Those are necessary negotiations. Would you prefer we keep you in the dungeons of our castles? There is plenty of work to do and I demand that our slaves are treated well.”

  “Do you listen to yourself? You stole our land!”

  “We are at war. Casualties happen, but it does not make me a monster. Have you no idea the kind of atrocities that your military has caused over the years? I am nothing like your military commanders. It is necessary to use force to make your country comply.”

  “You won’t stop until everything is under your control? Until all of Mallard citizens are slaves!”

  “You speak of things you don’t understand.” He said defensively. “I am not the man you think I am. But I haven’t the time to show you things to come or who I really am. I would ask you to trust me, but I know you will not.” He changed his tone and softened his voice. “I ask that you at least trust the man you spent the day with in Locket.”

  Barely able to take a breath due to her anger, she gasped, “That day was a mistake!” Inhaling sharply, she calmed her voice. “I was made to pay for my lapse of judgment.”

  His eyes caught hers as a spark of hurt came across his features. Quickly composing himself, he answered her back in a whisper, “I will never forget that day.” He reached over and took her hand. She didn’t stop him and watched him as he brought it to his lips. Placing a warm kiss on it, he met her eyes. “Joslyn, I wish to keep you safe.”

  She wavered for a second before pulling her hand away. “I want nothing from you.”

  He looked at her indifferently. “Listen to me carefully. Mallard has lost most its villages and mining towns. We will leave Locket alone as long as the king surrenders.”

  “The king? To whom do you refer to?” Desperate for information, she spoke swiftly.

  “My last messenger said your king has taken a turn for the worse, he is not expected to live much longer. The council is working with many outside dignitaries on the future of Mallard.”

  Her heart pounded hard in her chest. The king was still alive. Taking a second to digest the news, she noticed Maxwell staring at her. Composing herself, she asked the inevitable. “What about Andre?”

  “I shouldn’t tell you this, but I feel I can trust you, even if you don’t trust me.”

  Joslyn worried her bottom lip. “What is it?”

  “The council has assured me that they plan to challenge Andre for the throne. When this happens, they will vote for the king’s grandson Stephan to be the new king and sign the treaty for any terms that we want.”

  “What kind of terms?”

  He hesitated, seemingly thinking about his next words. “They can keep Locket and the northern mining towns, but most of Mallard will belong to Burra and their resources will be divided between neighboring countries who helped in the war.”

  She shrugged her shoulders defeated. “So again, the citizens of Mallard will suffer.”

  “Joslyn, most of the citizens in Mallard were suffering before the war.”

  She started to retort his last statement when she heard an uproar outside of the tent. He jumped up and went outside, obtaining information from the soldiers standing outside of the tent. Joslyn was able to overhear them tell him of a resistance in one of the strongholds. They needed to leave immediately.

  Maxwell came back into the tent as Joslyn stood up. “I must go. Forgive me, I was hoping to spend more time with you.”

  “It’s of no consequence, Your Grace. I will never agree with your delusional ideas of what is fair in this world.”

  He looked at her for a moment seemingly wanting to say more. “Joslyn, I have ordered a group of my soldiers to take you near the old border, to a manor near the mountains. You will wait there until I come for you.”

  “Is it a prison?”

  He sighed in annoyance. “It’s not a prison, but one of my homes. We will finish our conversation another time.”

  “If it’s not a prison, then let me go. I don’t wish to stay with you in your home.”

  “Stop it. You know it’s impossible for me to let you go.”

  “Why is that? You’re the highest commander and the Royal Duke of Burra. You could let me go if you wanted to.”

  “I am protecting you, even if you don’t want to see it.”

  “My point exactly.”

  He stared at her not saying anything for a moment. “I am sorry you feel that way. But I haven’t time to discuss it more now. There are guards outside of the tent, so you must stay in here. They will take you to my home in the mountains, but you will have free reign inside. Unfortunately, you will not be able to leave.”

  Chapter 24

  Joslyn viewed the damage the war caused the towns from the carriage window on her way to the mountains. Homes had been burned and villages abandoned as citizens of Mallard were either dead or bartered off as slaves. She shuddered thinking of her family’s fate and how she would find them again one day. Hopefully they were still alive and living on their family farm.

  It had been two nights since Maxwell left her in the tent. His last words—that the king only had a little time left—ringing in her head. That meant that Andre could be the king already and fighting with the nobles to keep his throne. He was the rightful heir, but without the backing of the council, he could not remain king.

  She felt the carriage slow near the river that used to mark the border between Burra and Mallard. The door opened, and she jumped back in surprise. “We will take the barge downstream and walk to the manor,” the Burra guard spoke directly in a no-nonsense tone.

  Joslyn hesitantly took his hand as she departed the carriage and followed a group of soldiers to the river barge. Looking around her, she realized that most of the caravan was turning around to leave. Only a few soldiers rode with her through the mountains. It was growing dark and colder as they approached their destination. A chill went through her, reminding her she had no shawl. She looked down at her dress, realizing she hadn’t changed in the last few days. The stains and dirt reminded her of the ordeal she had faced and the uncertainty lying ahead. Another new place to live, it was becoming all too familiar—introducing herself to people who were suspicious of her relationship with the duke, always worried about the fate of her family—this seemed to be her new life. The barge came to a stop and she departed the boat, a few of the guards lit torches as they weaved through heavy rocks until finally reaching a house made of stone. The house was built into the side of the mountain and was lit up by torches. There were a few servants near the doorway who smiled as she approached. “We received a missive a few hours ago, Miss Rhodes. I am Margie, the head housekeeper here at the mountain manor.”

  Joslyn was surprised the messenger had already been there. She smiled back at the friendly face of the woman and allowed her to escort her to a guest chamber. She had no belongings but would welcome the hospitality. She spotted a bathtub in the corner of the chamber and secretly cheered for her good fortune.

  “This will be your chamber while you stay with us, Miss Rhodes. His Grace specifically asked for us to put you in here as it has the best views.”

  Taken aback by the gesture, she wrinkled her forehead. “I don’t understand?”

  “You are his guest. His missive said to give you this chamber and treat you with the same respect that we give him.”

  “You must have misunderstood his message. I am a slave that he negotiated for. I am here to serve for you.”

  “Miss Rhodes, I have my orders. We have no slaves that work in this manor and His Grace was clear to treat you as an honored guest. I don’t w
ish to lose my position and will follow his request.”

  “It is not right. I don’t wish to be in his debt.”

  She smiled reassuringly. “Take it from your mind, child. I have known the duke for many years. He will not consider it your debt.”

  Joslyn snorted. “I have my doubts.”

  Ignoring her jibe, Margie turned and looked at the bathtub. “I will send the men up with water, so you can bathe. I didn’t see any trunks, so I will see what we have available for you to wear. Meanwhile, I have a dressing gown in the wardrobe that you may use after your bath. There are some soaps on in the chest. If you will excuse me, I must see to dinner.”

  The woman left in a hurry. She bit her tongue and did not protest. Joslyn went to the balcony of her room to take in her view—the torches illuminating parts of the river and the silhouette of the mountains created by the moonlight. She could only imagine the spectacular views of the river and mountains in the daytime. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she opened the door finding a few men with steaming buckets of water. She allowed them access as they filled the tub.

  After her bath, Margie brought her a few old long gowns that she found in a trunk in the attic. They had belonged to a visiting noblewoman who left them behind. Joslyn tried on the gowns, finding them a bit large but would at least cover her body. She was grateful to change and not have to go around wearing a blanket. Margie offered to hem them later that day, and Joslyn accepted her help and offered to assist. She was a good seamstress and missed working with material.

  Over the next few weeks, Joslyn inserted herself into helping with the household chores. She didn’t want to be treated as a fragile woman unable to participate in the daily housekeeping. Margie was hesitant but agreed to let her bake in the kitchens a few hours a day. Joslyn enjoyed the walks through the mountains and sitting by the river. She didn’t try to escape as truthfully, she had no idea where she would go and would probably get lost in the surrounding terrain.

  There were few visitors at the home, but most the household spoke favorably of the Duke of Norton, which was a contrast to living in Andre’s house in Preston where his erratic behavior was the cause of many whispered conversations. His servants were always suspicious of her and didn’t trust that she was not one of his spies. But in Maxwell’s home, everyone seemed happy and well cared for. She enjoyed forming a friendship with Margie who was her lifeline to a world she was unfamiliar with. Although she kept her relationship with Andre a secret, Joslyn did tell Margie she had spent some time with Maxwell in Locket during the wedding and that they had a wonderful time together. She didn’t go into any detail of their backward acquaintance or how they really met. Not knowing exactly what the missive said about her arrival, she kept certain details to herself.