by Jody Hedlund
I scanned the surrounding area for any clues as to what we might face. A lone mule was tied to a maple. A few chickens pecked the grass, and a goat lay in the shade of the home. A large fenced-in garden spread out behind, filled with leafy produce that would soon be ready for picking.
The cottage was quiet. The shutters of the window in the back were open, but I saw no movement inside the mostly dark interior.
I signed for Dante to take his men and attack through the front door while I led my contingent in the back window. I gave us twenty seconds. Any longer and the fox—if he was around—would sense our presence. Once the fox was alerted, his master would be too.
With quiet haste, we kept out of sight as best we could, crouching close to the ground, climbing the fence, and passing through the garden to the open window. My mental count landed at fifteen. Unsheathing my knife, I slid up the wall.
As I silently reached twenty, I hopped through the opening, alighting without a sound. At the same moment, Dante burst through the main doorway.
In an instant, he and his three men engaged in hand-to-hand combat with a large muscular man. The surprise on the man’s face told me he hadn’t expected the invasion. But the speed and agility with which he was counter-attacking confirmed his identity as Lance, the elite guard who’d been hiding Emmeline.
At a gasp from near the table, I wasted no time in lunging for the other occupant, a beautiful woman with long, dark hair and pale skin. She was young, but not young enough to be the eighteen-year-old princess.
Her eyes were wide with horror as I grabbed and spun her so that my knife grazed her neck. Of course, I didn’t press the blade into her skin. But I had to make the most of my advantage to bring Lance into submission and gain his cooperation. I suspected threatening this woman would do just that.
“Drop your weapons,” I said firmly. “Or I shall slit her throat.”
At the sight of my knife blade as well as the fear in the woman’s expression, Lance froze. That instant of taking his attention from Dante and his men was all the time they needed. Within seconds, they’d disarmed him and had his arms twisted and tied behind his back.
“Let my wife go!” He craned his head to plead with me. “Do anything you want to me, just let her go.”
I drew his wife closer, tightening my grip. At the movement, I could feel her stiffen in fear, just as I wanted.
“Please!” Lance’s voice turned desperate.
I nodded at Dante to shut the door. As far as I could tell, the princess wasn’t inside the cottage. We would need to wait for her return. If she didn’t realize we were present when she came home, we’d be able to capture her without having to resort to unpleasant tactics.
As my men quietly closed the door, I watched the elite guard, taking in every detail about his appearance, size, and skills. And I sensed I couldn’t underestimate this man.
“Lance,” I said.
This time he didn’t react, had schooled his face so it remained emotionless—void of surprise, anger, even fear.
“I am Prince Ethelrex of the united kingdom of Bryttania, eldest son and heir of King Ethelwulf, the rightful ruler of the house of Warwick and Mercia.”
Again Lance’s face was unreadable. His wife, on the other hand, trembled beneath my grip. I guessed she was Felicia, the noblewoman who’d been a part of sheltering Emmeline. I shifted her, making a display of letting my knife slip so that it poised above one of her major arteries.
“Let her go,” Lance said again, his voice harder.
Dante shoved the hilt of his sword into Lance’s back. “Show proper respect to His Royal Highness.”
Lance didn’t move, not even to lift his chin, which told me this man—unlike our prisoner earlier—would not be swayed. Not by words, not by threats, and not by any form of torture. He was the kind of man I respected.
In this case, however, too much was at stake. I couldn’t afford to give him any respect or leniency.
“I have come for the Princess Emmeline,” I continued. “If you cooperate in handing her over, I shall spare your wife. If not, I shall cut her apart piece by piece.”
Father Patrick’s words from earlier resounded in the deep places of my mind, the warning that I needed to use wise strategy rather than brute force. I prayed my threat was a wise strategy and would convince Lance to do my bidding since he obviously cared more about his wife’s life and safety than he did his own.
He looked at his wife, and I sensed I had him right where I wanted him.
“Do not even think about cooperating with the enemy,” Felicia said, her trembling ceasing. “Do whatever you can to break free and take Emmeline to safety.”
“Where is the princess?” I asked, moving Felicia’s arm behind her back and forcing her down to her knees.
“You will never get her!” Felicia cried out, pain and fury in her voice. “She will never turn herself over to you. Never!”
Lance closed his eyes and dropped his head, but not before I caught a glimpse of the indecision there. Would he let his wife suffer to save the princess? I hoped I didn’t need to find out. One thing I did know is that they were both strong. And my battle with them for the princess had only just begun.
Chapter
3
Emmeline
Bede whined softly at the base of the tree. Again.
From my comfortable spot high in the branches, I sighed. Above me, beyond the canopy of leaves, the sky had shifted to a darker hue of blue, the sign evening was growing late.
And the sign Father, Mother, and I must be on our way . . .
For the past hour, I’d slowly resigned myself to Father’s decision. As much as I hated the prospect of leaving my woodland home, in the end, I trusted and loved him enough to do as he wanted. If he truly believed we must go this time, then how could I defy him?
I sat forward and swung my legs over the branch.
Bede peered up at me with sad eyes, almost as if he knew I’d made my choice and that it would mean the end of everything we’d both loved. He darted a glance around, his ears pricking, before whining again.
“Be patient, Bede. I’m coming.”
I’d half-expected Father to follow me into the woods. In my haste and in my frustration, I hadn’t covered my tracks. But even if I had, he was well aware of my favorite hiding spots. He’d easily find me if he set his mind to it.
But I suspected he’d held back, hoping a little time away would allow me to see the wisdom in his decision and to accept the inevitable. Truthfully, I’d always known that someday my time with Lance and Felicia in Inglewood Forest would come to an end. They’d been frank about my identity as a princess, their role in my life, and what my future held.
In recent years, they’d even tried to convince me to stop calling them Mother and Father. But I’d insisted they were the only parents I’d ever known, that they’d always be my mother and father, that nothing would change our relationship.
Of course, they’d exchanged a glance as they always did when I said something they didn’t agree with. But at least they hadn’t protested any further.
In all his arguments, Father never failed to remind me that through the hidden books, I’d been given incredible amounts of knowledge regarding the labyrinth. He emphasized that with such knowledge came great responsibility. Deep inside, I knew I couldn’t shirk that responsibility.
“I shall go to Norland,” I said as I started the climb down. “I’ll deliver the key and map, tell my sisters everything I know about the labyrinth, but then I shall return here. Eventually, I’ll come back.”
I paused on a low branch. What if Mother and Father didn’t want to return to the forest? What if they longed for the comforts and luxuries of their old lives? What if they resented the loneliness and hardships that came with living here?
Whenever I’d asked them if they missed having a normal life, they always responded that they wished for nothing more and that raising me had been the greatest privilege of their lives.
<
br /> Nevertheless, what if now I could give them the opportunity for more?
I hopped the rest of the distance and landed on my feet. Remorse hit hard at the bottom of my chest. I’d been childish and selfish to insist on staying, thinking only of what I wanted and not of what would be best for them.
Bede turned and trotted in the direction opposite of home. When I didn’t follow, he halted and cocked his head at me, as though beckoning me to come along with all haste.
“While I’d love to see whatever it is you have for me, it’s time to head home. Otherwise, Father really will come after me.”
He was a determined man, always had been. And that strength had been the reason we’d survived, especially during the first few harsh winters. Although I couldn’t remember the difficulties of starting out in the cottage since I’d been but a newborn, Father and Mother liked to reminisce about those early years when they’d come to the forest as newlyweds.
If only I had a fraction of my parents’ inner fire.
Maybe this trip to Norland was a chance to develop some strength, to face unknown siblings and an unknown future. Whatever the case, I couldn’t put off heading back to the cottage any longer. I had to help finish packing. And I wanted to enjoy one last eve together. After all, Mother had worked hard to prepare my special birthday meal, and they’d still want to give me my yearly present.
“This way, Bede,” I called as I started forward.
When Bede didn’t immediately follow, I paused and looked back at him. “I know you don’t want to leave either, but we have to trust Father.”
Bede yipped.
“Come now.” I began to jog toward the cabin. “I promise I’ll give you a taste of honey cake.”
I didn’t have to wait long for Bede. He was soon racing along beside me. As we neared the clearing, however, he reached over, snagged my tunic, and jostled against me, giving me no choice but to stop.
I yanked my garment to wrest it free and was about to rebuke my fox when the skin at the back of my neck prickled. I ceased my struggle and dropped to the ground on my stomach. Bede flattened too, stared straight ahead, and growled.
Something wasn’t right. I didn’t know what. But maybe that’s why Bede had been acting strangely.
For long seconds, I listened for unusual sounds and scoured the surrounding area for signs of trespassing. Then I crept closer to the edge of the clearing until I could peek through the foliage.
The expanse was silent and deserted. At first appearance, everything was as it ought to be. But when I studied the area again and paid attention to detail, I realized the mule was still tied to the tree where Father had left it. By now, Father would have fed and watered the tired creature, as well as brushed it down, especially since he’d soon load it with the belongings we planned to take with us.
And the chickens were still roaming around. Father should have killed and dressed the fowl to use during our journey. He certainly wouldn’t leave them behind.
Next to me, Bede growled again, louder this time, and bared his incisors. His dark eyes were focused on the cabin.
Something had occurred while I’d been gone, but what? Had the visitor whose footprints I’d discovered earlier happened upon the cottage? Was he inside with Father and Mother?
Nothing about our home seemed amiss. Except that perhaps it was too quiet. Did I dare approach? If I could get closer, I’d be able to look for footprints and any signs that might give me more information. On the other hand, what if the visitor was a foe?
I rose to my hands and knees, uncertainty gnawing at my insides. “What should I do, Bede?”
Bede didn’t take his eyes from the cabin, as though he sensed danger.
Scenes from my nightmares flashed through my mind, and I was tempted to retreat the way I’d come and return to my hiding spot high in the tree. But at the same time, loyalty to my parents demanded I hasten to their aid if they were in trouble.
Trying to gather my courage and still my trembling, I stood. For several pounding heartbeats, my throat was too constricted to speak. Finally, I managed a short whistle, one I used to communicate with Father when hunting.
Bede didn’t move except to twitch his ears.
After long moments of silence, I whistled again, this time hopefully loud enough he would hear me if he was still in the cottage.
“Go, Emmy!” came Father’s voice from inside. “Run. Hide!” He was abruptly cut off as though he’d been hit, and Mother’s scream was muffled.
The urgency of Father’s tone was all the warning I needed to begin racing away.
The door of the cottage banged open. “Come out and show yourself,” a commanding voice carried across the yard. “Or you will force me to hurt your parents.”
I stopped. Hurt Mother and Father?
“No, Emmy!” Father shouted louder. “We’ll be fine. Just go!”
I retraced my steps to the edge of the clearing and peeked through the brush. The door of the cottage was open. Several soldiers stood outside with Father between them. His hands were bound behind him, and his feet tied with ropes so he could hardly walk. His weapons were gone, and he was disheveled, a bruise already discoloring the skin around one eye.
“Get away, Emmy!” Father called. “And don’t look back!”
One of the guards backhanded Father in the mouth, but he continued to shout instructions at me to run, hide, leave. Quickly, another of the guards twisted a gag that cut through Father’s mouth and silenced him—or at least made his words indistinguishable.
Several more soldiers came out of the cottage holding Mother between them. Her hands were bound, but thankfully her feet were free, and her captors appeared to be treating her with more care.
I counted eight men wearing cloaks of gray and brown. One soldier stood apart from the others and had cast off his outer garment, revealing the black chain mail that haunted my dreams—the chain mail belonging to the elite guards of King Ethelwulf.
Again my chest burned with the need to run and hide. I wouldn’t be a coward for doing it. Running was what Father had pleaded with me to do. He wanted me to get far away and stay out of the clutches of the king. I couldn’t let him down. Not after the sacrifices he’d made to keep me safe all these years.
The knight wearing the chain mail took several steps from the cottage, his gaze roving over the brush until his sights locked upon me. An ordinary man wouldn’t have been able to spot me so quickly amidst the foliage, especially since I, like his companions, wore garments that blended well with the woodland.
But of course, this was no ordinary group of soldiers. These men had been drilled like Father to do the near impossible. Faced with so fierce a foe, I ought to be on my way now. I’d need every inch of a head start I could gain. Even then, I’d be sorely outnumbered.
My advantage was that I knew the woods better than anyone except Father. My hiding places would prove challenging to even the best of trackers. With all the skills Father had made sure I learned, I’d have a very good chance of outmaneuvering these soldiers and making my way to safety.
And yet, how could I leave Father and Mother behind to suffer at their hands?
The guard at the forefront seemed to size me up, though I was mostly hidden. I took him in, too, noting his fair hair braided in the three warrior strands over his scalp and tied together at the base of his neck. His face was rugged, perhaps even handsome, behind the layer of unshaven scruff. His shoulders were broad and his arms thick with muscles that bulged against his chain mail. From the confident way he held himself, I had no doubt he was the commander of this group if not of the king’s entire guard.
When his gaze locked with mine, I drew in a sharp breath. Though he was too distant for me to distinguish the color of his eyes, I had no trouble seeing their fierce intensity. I dropped into a crouch, hiding in the thickness of the brush—but not before witnessing him motion to several of the men to surround me. In my mind, I could picture the paths they would take in the woods, drawing clo
ser until I was trapped. If I wanted to get away, I had to do so now.
“I can see you have no wish for any more trouble to befall your parents,” he called out. “If you hand yourself over to me, I shall let them go, unharmed.”
He was stalling me, giving his men time to circle around me.
“Do not give in, Emmeline.” Mother’s voice rose distinctly into the evening, unwavering and strong. “You know what you need to do.”
I cringed, waiting for a backhand to her mouth. When the captain didn’t silence her the way he had my father, I whispered a prayer of gratefulness. Perhaps the commander was a decent man toward women. Or perhaps he was allowing my mother to speak and so further halt my escape.
At a nudge from Bede’s nose, I made my decision. I sprang away and leaped over windfall, intent on making my getaway before the soldiers closed in.
“String them both up!” the captain shouted so I would hear, obviously seeing my attempt at escape. “And heat an iron.”
I faltered and stumbled to a halt. A glance over my shoulder told me the captain wasn’t issuing an idle threat. The soldiers were shoving my parents toward the large maple where Father had tied the mule. The captain tossed a rope over a high branch so that it hung on either side.
“No,” I whispered, my blood turning cold.
Bede bumped against me, urging me to run. But as my father reached the tree, one of the guards forced his bound hands upward above his head while another began to secure him to the dangling rope.
Although I’d never witnessed torture or anything remotely cruel, I’d read enough in my history texts to know the damage that could be wrought on the human body. I also knew I wouldn’t be able to turn my back upon my parents and allow them to go through that anguish. Not for my sake and not for any reason.
I couldn’t see the soldiers advancing, but I sensed their presence to both my right and left. I spun and stared into the heart of Inglewood Forest, knowing that’s where I needed to go.
Yet, at a cry from my mother, I couldn’t make my feet run as she’d instructed. Instead, hot tears stung my eyes. My parents might have been able to leave a loved one behind to face torture, but I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t as strong as they were. I never had been.
