by Jody Hedlund
“How long before the sleeping tonic takes effect?” I asked as I took several more bottles of milk from the wet nurse. I’d already packed half a dozen into the bottom of one satchel and needed a supply for the other princess.
“A few more minutes, your ladyship,” answered the maidservant who’d administered the sleeping aid. “Already the older princess is asleep. The younger princess will be soon enough.”
The queen had previously chosen several names in preparation for either a boy or girl. I’d taken the top two girl names from her list. I’d decided to call the firstborn Maribel and the other twin Emmeline. Then I’d burned the list and decided I would tell no one the names, at least until I knew the princesses were safe.
I’d had to push aside my feelings of guilt for naming them without a priest and without the proper ceremony. But I was rushed to ensure I left with the necessities, much less the proprieties. Thankfully, the male servant I’d called had been able to take two rubies from the queen’s crown, and I’d tucked them away in my pocket.
“I’ve no time to wait for medicine to set in,” the knight said with a sharp glance at his companion, who was taller and wider. The two wore long hauberks as well as hoods and mantles of the same tightly riveted metal rings. Bright crimson splatters mingled with darker brown, adding to the filth that coated them and lined their faces. Only then did I notice their drawn swords slathered in fresh blood. I’d heard the screams within the castle and had prayed the enemy wasn’t already inside. Had I finally run out of time?
My heartbeat pattered with the same apprehension that had been my companion since the queen garnered my vow.
“Retrieve the rest of the bottles,” I ordered the nearest servant, who rushed into the antechamber where the wet nurse had been busy pouring milk into the bottles as rapidly as she could. “I need more blankets,” I said to another maid.
Before I could stop the knight, he picked up both satchels. “I’m taking the babies now.” Then without waiting for my approval, he stalked from the room, his companion following him.
“Halt this instant,” I called after him in what I hoped was my most severe and haughty tone. But he kept going, speeding his pace into a jog.
I grabbed the remaining blankets and bottles from the servants, wrapped them together, and then dashed to catch up with the knights. They were in the hallway and had started running.
“Stop!” I called, my voice echoing in the eerily empty passageway.
The first of the young knights—the one carrying the satchels—tossed a glance over his shoulder. It was filled with irritation, the same I’d witnessed before. “Stay in the queen’s chambers. You’ll be safest there.”
“I shall not abandon my vow.”
“You’ll only slow my efforts to save the princesses.”
I picked up my skirts and ran faster. The bottles of milk clinked within the blankets, and I hoped they wouldn’t break. I’d asked the wet nurse to accompany me, but she’d been too fearful to even think of trying to sneak out, especially when I’d revealed my hastily devised plan to jump from one of the rear castle windows into the moat and swim, pushing the two satchels ahead of me in the water. It didn’t matter that the moat was filled with refuse or that the enemy surrounded the banks. I was counting on the cover of darkness to conceal me.
Did this knight have another, better plan? Perhaps he could be of some use to me.
“Where are you intending to take the princesses?” I called after him.
“It’s best if you don’t know, my lady,” he retorted. “Then you won’t have to worry about Ethelwulf torturing the information out of you.”
Torture? I shuddered.
The knight and his companion entered the stairwell of one of the many castle towers. I wasn’t far behind, my footsteps slapping against the stone stairs, my breath starting to come in heavy bursts from my exertion. I grew almost dizzy from the speed of our descent, the rapid winding in the narrow stairwell.
Without warning, the knights halted at a landing before a closed door. I rushed down the last few steps between us, finally catching up. “I must insist—”
My statement was cut off by the door flying open and someone hurtling into the stairwell with a screech that sent chills racing up my spine. The first knight was holding both satchels in the same hand and had unsheathed his sword in the other. He swung his weapon through the air with such strength and speed that I heard it swoosh and then slice.
At the same moment, the second, taller knight threw his dagger so that it flew end over end, the silver blade flashing its deadly sharpness. I didn’t understand why he’d tossed his knife until another screaming blur launched into the stairwell. The knife hit the intruder directly in the heart, the speed and force of the motion sending the blade deep and killing the attacker on impact.
Through the light emanating from the wall scones placed strategically on either side of the door, I could only stare at the carnage, my mind trying to make sense of what I was seeing. One of the dead had black hair that hung in tangled locks, half hiding a crinkled leathery face that resembled a shriveled prune, parched lips still open in a dying scream. The dark skin was strange, something I’d never seen before and had only heard in tales.
When the shorter knight glanced at me, I realized my face was likely a frozen mask of terror.
“Saracens,” he said in a hard voice. “You should have heeded me and stayed in the queen’s chambers.”
I lifted my chin. “If I carry the satchels, you will have your hands free to better protect the princesses.”
The knight’s keen eyes flickered with surprise before both his mouth and jaw hardened.
“She’s right, Lance,” the taller knight said. “I suspect she’ll help more than you think.”
Lance. I tested the knight’s given name, repeating it silently and studying him. Underneath the grime and grizzle lay a face with sturdy, chiseled features that some women might have considered handsome.
He seemed to be weighing my suggestion seriously. For a fraction of a second. Then he thrust the satchels at me. “Stay right behind me.”
I didn’t wait for another invitation. Stuffing my bundle of blankets and bottles inside, I peeked to see that both the babes were now asleep before sealing the bags properly. Then I hefted the satchels onto my arms at my elbows.
The weight of each with the babes, bottles, and blankets was heavier than I’d anticipated, but I was determined to do my part in saving the princesses. If this young knight could lead me to safety outside the castle, from there I’d surely be able to find a way to Everly and the Princess Constance before King Ethelwulf learned where she was and sent his soldiers to capture her.
Lance had already resumed his rapid descent. His friend waited more patiently for me as I started down once more. I hurried to catch up with Lance, stumbling over the hem of my gown while the other knight followed behind me.
When we reached the bottom, the dampness made me realize we were underground. Lance paused in front of a door and listened. Then, with a flick and twist of his knife, he picked the lock, threw it aside, and swung open the door, revealing a storage room filled with crates, barrels, and miscellaneous items of furniture and decorations.
We were obviously in the wrong place. But the thought of climbing back up the stairs made me sag against the wall, my arms already aching from the bags. My previous plans had included walking until daylight, at which point I’d hoped to find a ride in the wagon of anyone else fleeing from Delsworth. But with the weight of the bags, perhaps I wouldn’t be able to walk as far as I’d hoped.
The tall knight retrieved a torch from the wall sconce outside the door. He lifted it, shining light into the room while Lance scanned the contents. He focused on something on the opposite wall and crossed over, shoving boxes and barrels aside.
“It’s here,” he said, scraping at a stone.
“Good.” The tall knight held the light higher so that it illuminated the wall.
“We h
ave no time to look for jewels or other valuables to take with us,” I stated, but then stopped as suspicion took root. What if they were attempting to steal from the king for their own personal profit?
Before I could voice my mistrust, Lance dug away the mortar between the stones to reveal a deep groove. He stuck his gloved fingers into the slit and then pulled until he strained with the effort.
Stone scraped upon stone. To my astonishment, a section of the wall began to slide open like a door, screeching louder and echoing past us up into the tower stairwell that we had just descended. Lance stopped and met the gaze of his comrade. Something somber passed between them.
“Take my knife.” Lance tossed it, and the other knight caught it easily as if they made a practice of throwing knives as young boys did balls.
“You’ll need it.”
“You’ll need it more.” At the echo of a faint scream from somewhere in the stairwell, Lance motioned to me. “Let’s go.”
He didn’t have to say anything else. I already knew what that screech meant. There were more Saracens inside the castle. It wouldn’t take long for the enemy to hear the news of the birth of the twins—if they hadn’t already—and then they’d be desperate to find us and prevent our escape.
The question was how many more Saracens were there? And would we be able to fend them all off?
My skin crawled at the thought of facing such quick warriors. Whom was I fooling? I wouldn’t be able to fend off a single Saracen, much less a whole horde of them.
Urgency prodded me forward, and I ducked through the opening in the stone wall.
“Watch your step,” Lance cautioned.
At the sight of another staircase—this one descending straight down—I pressed against the wall. With a torch in one hand, Lance stepped halfway through then stopped. He cast one more glance at his companion, who stood in the doorway.
“God be with you, Baldric.” He fisted his hand to his heart and thumped it twice.
Baldric repeated the motion. “God go with you too, my friend.”
Another screech, this one nearer, drifted on the dank air. The door scraped as Baldric closed it from the other side.
Lance reached for one of the satchels. I released it to his strong grip. Just as I started to heft the second bag up on my arm again, he snagged it.
“I shall carry it.” I tried tugging it back. He didn’t relinquish his grasp. “You lead the way with the torch. And I’ll carry the princesses.”
I wanted to protest, but his glance at the stone door silenced me. Actually, the sadness in his eyes cut off my words, for I realized then what the two knights had already known. Baldric would hold off the Saracens for as long as possible, but he’d eventually die in his efforts to give us a head start out of the castle.
I let Lance take both bags. Then, with the torch in hand, I started my descent into endless darkness.
“Faster,” Lance said from behind me.
Without a railing, I braced myself against the wall, which was damp and slimy. I tried to pick up my pace, wanting to prove Lance hadn’t made a mistake in helping me with the princesses. But I suspected he could travel at double my speed and I was slowing down his escape. Perhaps I should have allowed him to proceed without me. Had I been foolish to insist on accompanying him, and would I cost the princesses their lives?
By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs, I was breathless again. I thrust the light out so we could see down the tunnel ahead. Supported overhead with wooden beams, the passageway easily allowed me to stand straight, but it wasn’t tall enough for a man of Lance’s build. I hesitated at the sight of the writhing tangles dangling from the ceiling. Roots? Water?
“Are we under the moat?” I asked, creeping tentatively forward.
“Aye.”
I swallowed a breath of panic at the thought of being underneath the body of water that surrounded the castle. My mind conjured pictures of the tunnel walls caving in and water pouring over us. I’d much rather be swimming in the moat than drowning underneath it. But now that I was here, I had no choice but to advance.
I ducked under the first roots even as they slithered and twisted as though alive.
“Down!” Lance shouted.
I dropped at the same moment one of his hands pressed against my head, forcing me to the side. A second later, he slashed his sword into the roots. A hissing mass hit the floor by my feet, where the torchlight illuminated the pile. I found myself staring at over a dozen pairs of beady black eyes and bared fangs.
These were no roots. They were severed snake bodies.
With a scream, I released the torch and scrambled back, desperate to get away from the writhing heap. Their snapping and hissing faded. Even so, I trembled with terror at the realization I’d almost walked into the serpents.
Lance retrieved the torch and held it out to me. “We have to keep going.”
“No. I cannot.” Ahead, more clusters of snakes writhed together in clumps, and some slid out of holes in the ceiling as if they’d heard my screams and had come to join in feasting upon my blood.
Before I could protest again, Lance thrust the satchels into my hands, giving me no choice but to cling to the princesses. He started forward, swinging his sword back and forth like a farmer with his scythe at harvest. Snakes fell to the floor and thrashed for a few seconds before lying still. He shoved the bloody bodies aside and motioned for me to follow him.
I swallowed hard, wanting to retreat but realizing I had no other way out of the castle, that if I’d jumped into the moat as I’d planned, I likely would have been attacked and killed by the serpents that apparently made the land surrounding the castle their home.
Lance moved quickly, chopping a path, killing without hesitation. I scurried after him, dodging the carcasses even as they released their dying hisses and stared at me with their ebony eyes. If he could exude such courage, I had to as well.
We hiked much farther than I expected before the snakes finally began to thin and then stop altogether. The path steepened and turned rocky. My arms ached under the load of the bags, and I stumbled over a sharp stone.
As though Lance had been keeping one eye upon me, he pivoted and steadied me, before peering back through the darkness. His lips pursed together in displeasure. “We must go faster,” he said tersely as he relieved me of one of the satchels.
“You set the pace, and I shall endeavor to stay with you.” Again, I wanted to prove he hadn’t made a mistake in bringing me along.
He said no more, but lengthened his stride, climbing with a nimbleness of a hare and making my efforts look all the clumsier in comparison. Even so, I strained to remain close behind him, determined not to lag even when my lungs burned, my sides cramped, and my legs trembled with the exertion.
I was relieved when the tunnel narrowed, forcing us to slow down and crawl on our hands and knees. As we pushed the satchels along, I calmed my breathing and steadied my shaking limbs.
When we finally arrived at a ledge that opened into a cave, Lance lowered himself first, dropping easily to the dirt floor. He held out the torch, revealing a small cavern that seemed harmless enough.
After he secured the torch, I handed him first one satchel then the other. I dangled my legs off the ledge, intending to lower myself the way he had. But before I could gather the courage to jump, he reached for me, fitting his hands at my hips and effortlessly lifting me. For an instant, as I was suspended, I could feel the power of his arms and upper body. I had seen the king’s guard always from a distance and had known they were the fiercest, fittest, and fastest men in the land. But I hadn’t understood the reality of their position and strength until now.
He lowered me to the ground as carefully as he had the princesses but released me without a second glance. I might be awed by his prowess in aiding our escape, but he clearly was not enamored with me.
“Where do we go from here?” I took stock of the cave, which was riddled with cobwebs and dust as though no one but spiders had b
een in it for decades.
“We find the exit.” He crossed to the opposite wall. There he kicked at a lump and caused dust to plume into the air. He rolled the lump over to reveal a leather shoulder bag.
“See if there’s anything in the supply bag we can use,” he instructed as he moved to the wall and began tapping it with the hilt of his sword.
I knelt next to the bag and brushed away the dust. Gingerly I lifted the flap, and a hemp rope fell out. Before I could dig deeper, Lance was already shifting aside an enormous stone, leaning into it with his shoulder. He strained, his muscles bulging as the scraping rock gave way to crumbling pebbles and an opening. Mist sprayed into the room, bringing the scent of wet rocks and soil. Along with it came the rushing sound of water.
At the same moment, the distant shout of voices wafted from the tunnel hole behind us. I shivered and stood. The Saracens had made it past Lance’s comrade. I had no idea how much time we had before they’d be upon us, but I suspected it wasn’t long.
Slinging the dusty pack over my shoulder, I picked up both satchels and carried them to the cave exit where Lance peered out. I wasn’t sure what he could see through the darkness of the night, but when he spun to face me, his expression was etched with determination. He grabbed the rope from where I’d left it and began to rapidly uncoil it and hand me one end. “Tie this around your waist.”
As shouts echoed in the tunnel, I hurried to do his bidding, but my fingers fumbled over one another in my haste.
“After I leap,” he said brushing aside my fingers and cinching the rope for me, “I want you to jump with the princesses. Hang onto the bags and don’t let them go.”
Jump? I couldn’t squeeze a response past my constricting throat.
He hesitated, glancing at one of the bags. Then he lifted his gaze to mine. “You’ll be fine.”
I could only nod mutely. In the flickering from the torch, his eyes were dark and brooding and yet somehow comforting.
