by Jody Hedlund
Had the captain used Colette to bait us? Was that why she’d been waiting by the door? Waiting for our return, perhaps even for hours? At that moment, I wanted to thrust Colette away in anger. But perhaps she’d reacted again in fear. Under threats of torture, most people were helpless but to do whatever was asked of them. I couldn’t blame Colette for going along with the captain to save herself, could I?
“You know they’ll kill Maribel.”
“She will be safe,” Colette rushed, her tone growing more desperate. “The captain said the king has no plans to kill her, that he intends to marry her to his son and she will be the queen of the kingdom someday. What more could she want?”
“You know I’ll never let them have Maribel.”
Colette grasped my chest. “Why? She will never love you the way you love her. She is too caught up in her own life to think about anyone else.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I lied. “It’s my duty to protect her and see her safely to Norland.”
The skin at the back of my neck prickled. One of the king’s guards was drawing close. I whistled again, this time more urgently. Sheba answered.
“Please, Edmund.” Colette threw herself against me. “I shall love you like Maribel never can. I promise to make you happy.”
A sickening in my stomach swirled up into my throat. What if Colette had been jealous of Maribel and had willingly cooperated with the captain to turn her over? What if she hadn’t been coerced at all?
The thought was there for only a moment before it was gone. I wouldn’t think ill of Colette. Not now.
At the flap of wings, I turned to where Maribel was crouched. It was time to act. I had to do so decisively and without delay if I hoped to have any chance of survival.
“Maribel,” I whispered. “The labyrinth. Wait for me there. If I don’t come in two days, go on without me to Norland.”
Before she could reply, Sheba swooped down and plucked Maribel from the ground, lifting her into the air. In an instant, the shouts of angry warrior cries erupted around us. But Sheba flapped her powerful wings, taking Maribel higher until the blackness of night swallowed her. I didn’t wait to see where they went. I had faith the eagle would take Maribel where I’d instructed her.
Instead, I thrust Colette back toward the convent door. In the next second, I struck down the closest soldier while vaulting onto a nearby stone. From there, I leaped from boulder to familiar boulder, jumped onto an overhanging precipice, and swung up until I was out of the reach of the swords of the king’s guards.
I crouched low and assessed the situation below in one quick sweep, noting Colette was out of sight and that additional soldiers were now pouring from the convent, clearly having lain in wait for our return. In the torchlight, my gaze snagged on a face I hadn’t seen since the day I’d been discovered by Wade and smuggled out of Delsworth.
Captain Theobald. My gut clinched at the sight of the long scar that started beneath his eye and ran the length of his face down to his beard. In his black chain mail and hood, he stood stiffly, staring up in the direction I’d disappeared. Even in the dark, I sensed the coldness emanating from his soul.
Although his expression was severe, it brought back a memory I’d thought was long buried—the sadistic smile he’d given my father before slitting his stomach and pulling out his entrails.
The echo of my father’s screams of agony suddenly rang in my ears. I could hear his cries as he’d been forced to watch Theobald hang his wife and children, all while he’d been bleeding to death. Tears had streamed down his noble face as the jerking, swaying bodies had stilled into lifelessness.
Bile rose up in my throat as it had that day when I’d watched from behind the barrels. I wanted to bend over and vomit. At the same time, anger spread through my limbs like burning, melted iron.
At the moment, I didn’t have the luxury of being sick, any more than I had the luxury of thinking about the past. I had to make my escape before Theobald could rally his men and hunt for me.
Nevertheless, I peered down one last time at the captain. I hated him and would take my revenge upon him for what he did to my family. I was tempted to throw my knife and kill him in that instant. But I held myself back. When I killed Theobald, I’d do so slowly and deliberately. And I’d make sure he knew exactly who was slaughtering him and why.
The snap and whiz of an arrow registered in my mind. It was coming from my left. But the darkness hid the bolt. I only had enough time to swerve before it pierced my shoulder.
Chapter
9
Maribel
I rubbed salve into the deep talon wounds in my arms. Sheba hadn’t meant to harm me. But after the hours of carrying me, the eagle’s grip had become so unbearable I’d lost consciousness a time or two during the journey.
I suspected the flight had been as equally taxing on Sheba, because by the end of the night, she’d stopped frequently for breaks. And she’d glided low, as if she hadn’t had the strength to lift me.
At dawn, she’d deposited me at the mouth of an isolated cave deep in the Highlands and flown away. I’d immediately fallen into a weakened and weary slumber. Hours later, I’d awoken stiff and frozen, hardly able to feel my fingers and toes.
I’d worked quickly to start a fire with the flint in my medical bag and the few dry twigs I could find. Once thawed, I’d tended my bleeding arms, grateful to see abrasions and not punctures, and grateful I’d had my satchel when Sheba had plucked me from danger.
My muscles were sore, and my arm sockets felt as though they’d been pulled out of joint. But after flexing and rotating them, I knew I’d survived without any major damage.
But what about Edmund? All throughout the long flight, I’d prayed he’d escaped the clutches of the soldiers. Even though I wanted to remain optimistic, the reality of his situation weighed upon me. He was one man against many. Yes, he was a skilled warrior, but how would he be able to fight them off? If the king’s men had killed Wade with his brute strength and experience, how could Edmund survive?
My heart panged with the realization Edmund was in all likelihood dead. The ache moved into my throat and brought tears to my eyes. Everything was my fault. The soldiers had come for me because I was the princess. I was responsible for putting everyone in danger. I was to blame for Wade’s death. And I was now the cause of Edmund’s peril.
In spite of the threat, I had to cling to the hope that somehow, some way, he’d been able to evade King Ethelwulf’s men and would reach me.
Leaning against the cold, smooth wall of the cave, I massaged the salve deeper into my bicep, my mind replaying the whispered conversation he’d had with Colette before Sheba had plucked me to safety.
You know I’ll never let them have Maribel, he’d said.
Why? Colette had countered almost bitterly. She will never love you the way you love her.
Exactly how did Edmund love me? Of course, we all loved each other like siblings. We’d grown up as a family. But Colette’s words seemed to indicate Edmund cared for me in a deeper way, a way that had more to do with the affection between a man and a woman.
Just thinking about that kind of love brought a rush of heat to my face. Surely Edmund wasn’t attracted to me as a woman. Surely I’d misunderstood their conversation.
But even as I tried to deny what I overheard, I couldn’t stop thinking about those strange, sizzling moments I’d recently had with him, those times when I’d caught him looking at me, especially when he’d focused on my lips as though he wanted to kiss me. Did he regard me differently now that we were older? Was that what he’d been trying to explain to me about the changing nature of our relationship?
He’d changed in how he viewed me, viewed us. But I hadn’t noticed it.
She is too caught up in her own life to think about anyone else. The rest of Colette’s whispered words resounded through my mind. How could she say such a thing? All I wanted to do with my life was to serve others by being a skilled physician. I wasn’t selfish
. I was merely determined. Wasn’t I?
“No.” My voice echoed against the low ceiling and close walls of the cave. “Edmund loves me as a friend. He knows how much I want to become a nun, and he respects that. I must not read more into Colette’s words.”
The disquiet of my thoughts and the rumbling in my stomach pushed me to my feet. I headed outside the mouth of the cave and found a smaller attached cavern. Rocky wasteland spread for miles all around me. If this was the location of the labyrinth, then perhaps many of the large stone formations were a result of excavations from long ago.
Covered with ice and snow, it was as silent as it was barren. Although I scouted the area for anything edible, all I found were a few dried yarrow plants. Without a pot for boiling, I gnawed the roots and ate snow.
With hunger still clawing my insides, I knew I needed to stay busy in order to keep my mind off my pain and empty stomach as well as Edmund’s condition. So I created a torch and investigated the cave.
To my disappointment, I wasn’t able to go far before coming to a dead end. Edmund would have been proud of me for using the hilt of my dagger to tap against the stone and listen for any hollowness that might indicate a false wall. But I couldn’t hear any differences and finally gave up to search elsewhere.
By eventide, I’d hiked the hills and ravines surrounding the cave, exploring for other tunnels or caves that might lead to the maze, the Labyrinth of Death. Surely that was where Sheba had brought me. It’s where Edmund expected to meet up with me—if he made it away from the soldiers.
Yet if the maze was nearby, I didn’t see any signs.
Once I returned to my cave, I couldn’t contain a smile as I stirred the fire and added the fuel I’d collected. If Edmund had been with me, he’d have already located the labyrinth entrance. He never overlooked a detail and would have noticed something I’d missed.
My smile faded and a sob rose in my chest. “Oh, Edmund,” I whispered thickly.
A flap and the rush of cold air startled me. I tensed, my knife at the ready. At the sight of Sheba perched at the mouth of the cave with a winter hare in her beak, I expelled a breath. “Sheba,” I said. “I didn’t have the chance to express my gratitude for your saving my life yesterday.”
Her dark eyes surveyed me as though making sure I was still well. Then she dropped the hare to the cave floor before moving to take flight again.
“Wait!” I ran after her. “Do not go yet.”
But she lifted her long, gray wings and soared away, leaving me standing in the fading daylight watching her. She circled ahead then looped back around as though to tell me she wouldn’t be far away, that she was guarding me. Perhaps she was. Edmund had probably asked her to do so in his absence.
If only I knew at least a little bit of the language of animals, I’d be able to ask her how Edmund fared. And I’d order her to go back to him, wherever he was, and try to help him.
I stooped and retrieved the hare, grateful for the eagle’s offering that would fill my belly this night. During my searching earlier, I’d dug up additional edible roots and accumulated a sufficient amount of snow to refill my leather drinking gourd. I’d fare well enough. I was warm, dry, and safe. And now, I had a hot meal to look forward to. I could only pray Edmund would arrive soon, within the two days he’d specified. I didn’t want to go on without him.
Yes, I’d miss his companionship and help. But more than that, I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it. That thought alone puzzled me the most.
By nightfall of the second day, dread crept out to taunt me. I’d been holding it at bay by staying hopeful and keeping occupied by further exploring the area. But as I sat in front of the fire, I shivered even though I was warmed all the way through.
I’d eaten the last of the hare for supper and hadn’t seen Sheba all day. I’d attempted to gauge the passing of hours so I could pray at regular intervals the same way I did at the convent. And while I tried praying for Colette and the other sisters, my heart invariably kept returning to Edmund.
At last, I lay down next to the fire, wrapped in my cloak, my cheek resting on my arm. “I shall not go to Norland without him,” I said. “I shall travel back the way I have come and search for him.”
For a long moment, I waged an inner war, knowing Edmund would want me to travel on regardless. That’s why he’d risked himself—so I’d have the chance to escape. He’d be angry if I returned to the convent and gave myself over to King Ethelwulf.
At the same time, Colette’s whispered words haunted me. She is too caught up in her own life to think about anyone else.
All this time, I thought I’d been aspiring after noble and good deeds by helping those who were sick. But had I also been attempting to make myself look better?
Ever since childhood when I’d learned of King Ethelwulf’s massacres, I’d longed to be an instrument to bring about healing. After Sister Agnes’s passing, my desires had only escalated. I’d needed to devote my life to saving people even more and in doing so, perhaps one day, atone for her death.
However, was there a part of me—even a small part—that wanted the glory of helping save lives, the accolades, the praise, the prestige?
I groaned and buried my face in my hands. Colette had been right. How had I allowed myself to become so selfish?
A howl sounded outside the cave entrance, and I bolted up and unsheathed my knife. My heartbeat rammed against my ribcage, and all I could think about was the starving cougar that had nearly attacked me a few days ago. The wild creatures were hungrier than I was and wouldn’t hesitate to claim me for a meal.
As a form slinked into view, I tossed a twig onto the fire, hoping the blaze would provide a barrier. Even so, I held out my knife and yelled in what I hoped was my fiercest voice. “Go away!”
The animal came closer into the mouth of the cave, low to the ground, its glowing eyes all I could see. It released another howl, this one louder . . . and almost sad. Certainly not the vicious call of a hungry beast.
My outstretched hand shook, the knife wobbling. I was a lifegiver, not a lifetaker. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to harm the creature even in self-defense. Nevertheless, I hoped it would see the weapon and leave me alone.
The wild animal crept forward several more paces until the firelight illuminated its speckled gray fur, sharply pointed ears, and long, spindly legs. At the sight of the white patch on its chest that looked like a star, I let my hand drop.
“Barnabas.” I pushed to my feet. “What news do you have for me? Where is Edmund?”
He gave another short howl and then turned and trotted back to the entrance.
“Will you not tarry a moment longer?”
His ears flickered, keenly in tune to every sound. But he didn’t stop and instead disappeared into the darkness of the night.
“Barnabas! Wait!” I scrambled to gather my belongings and light a torch before hurrying after him. Outside, I lifted the flame over the rocky ground, hoping to find his tracks. I was surprised to see him only a dozen paces away, looking at me as though waiting.
“Come back.” I held out a beckoning hand, but he bounded onward a few more feet before halting and peering at me again.
He was clearly attempting to communicate. Did he want me to follow?
I walked toward him, and he repeated the pattern of moving forward and then pausing. We traversed that way for some time before he began to trot faster, enough so I had difficulty keeping up.
On several occasions, I thought I lost him, but he always stopped just in time so I could spot him. I didn’t know what he was doing and guessed that somehow Edmund had communicated with the wolf to lead me to another safe place.
I stumbled along the rocky terrain even when I grew cold and tired. Finally, Barnabas yipped and streaked off. I tried to run, but the uneven ground and sharp rocks made my movements difficult.
“Barnabas!” I called out, raising the torch high, praying I would catch a glimpse of him. Thankfully, down a hundred feet, I s
aw his outline. Instead of looking back at me, this time he hovered over a motionless form.
I began descending the embankment. Had the wolf killed a stag for me?
When Barnabas nudged the shape with his muzzle and then gently licked it, my veins constricted, and my blood pulsed in choppy bursts.
“Edmund?” I called.
The figure lifted his head.
“Oh, angels and saints have mercy!” It was Edmund. And something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
I couldn’t finish climbing to him fast enough. Upon reaching him, I knelt and held the torch above him, assessing him from his head to his toes. A broken arrow shaft stuck out of his shoulder. His cloak was saturated with blood around the wound—some dry and some fresh.
I probed him gently.
At the contact, he groaned. His lashes lifted, and glassy eyes met mine. “Maribel,” he rasped.
I unplugged my drinking gourd and poured the liquid past his parched lips. He drank greedily before letting his head fall back.
Barnabas nuzzled Edmund, bumping his hand as though urging him to get up. I could feel the wolf’s concern, for it matched mine. We needed to get him out of the elements where I could tend to his wound.
“Do you think you can walk?” I asked.
“No. Not far.”
“The cave is close.” Not entirely true, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him. Instead, I slid an arm underneath him. “I shall help you to your feet.”
I had to practically lift him. But somehow we managed to move forward. With his uninjured arm around my shoulder and my arm about his waist, we inched up the slope.
As we continued back the way I’d come, we had to stop every few minutes for Edmund to rest. By the time I glimpsed the light from the tiny fire I’d left burning in the cave, he was barely conscious. He used the remainder of his energy and strength to climb the last of the distance. And when we finally staggered into the cave, he passed out.
Exhausted myself, I slowly collapsed under his weight, bringing him with me as I went to my knees. Then I blinked away my weariness, breathed in a lungful of air, and laid Edmund out as carefully as I could in front of the fire.
