Rescuing Rapunzel (3 page)

He turned to Bryan, who was still leisurely sipping his ale, and gestured with his sword. “Come on then, von Thalunburg. The same for you.”

Bryan shrugged. “You know I do not use swords.” He glanced at the window. “I have more interesting talents.”

He did not show off for the ladies like Penn, but then, Bryan never had to. Women naturally flocked to him. If only he could work out how to talk to them once they had. It was quite entertaining because women tended to cast him as the strong, silent type when in truth Bryan was simply too tongue-tied to spit out a complete sentence.

Bryan reached for the bow at his side and, before Nick could more than blink, he had fired an arrow at the stone wall next to the window.

Tormenting girls, on the other hand, had never been a problem.

There was a brief chorus of shrieks, followed by Kiki sticking her head out the window. “You missed!”

Bryan aimed another arrow at her. “By design, my lady. By design.”

Kiki put her arms on the window sill. “Go ahead. And I shall see you hanged.”

Bryan glanced at Nick. “Can I?”

“It will serve her right if she has to have an arrow pulled out of her head.” Nick rolled his shoulder. Might teach her some sense, too.

The next arrow whistled past her ear as it flew into the castle.

Penn cheered as Kiki, followed by her friends, screamed. Kiki had ducked to the side and bumped her head on the edge of the window. Rubbing her head, she yelled, “Count von Thalunburg, do you know how many laws you have just broken?”

“Enforce them,” Bryan countered, putting away his bow.

Kiki put her hands on her hips, let out a grunt and disappeared, returning only to throw the offending arrow back out the window.

Penn burst out laughing.

Nick gritted his teeth. He should have found their exchange horribly entertaining–teasing his little sister had been a favored pastime most of his life, and Bryan and Penn had always been willing to assist in the torment. This was not the first time Bryan had shot arrows at Kiki nor, he wagered, would it be the last. Not that Nick ever worried. Bryan was the best archer in the provinces.

“Let her be,” Nick said, wiping sweat off his face. “She has been…reasonable lately.”

Not too reasonable–she did have quite a collection of squealing, staring, marriage-minded ladies following her around this spring–but still. She was making an effort.

It was taking a surprising amount of effort on
his
part to keep away from them. He never entered his room alone, avoided his mother’s events whenever possible, and made sure to lock his room each night to be certain no lady tried to trap him into marriage. Still they managed to find him.

There were few places he could get any peace from the girls, though one remained in the back of his mind, plaguing him more and more every day.

The Black Forest.

In spite of the vagabonds and thieves inhabiting the forest that created the center of the White Mountains, it remained a favorite place of Nick’s to ride. Even in his youth, he loved sneaking off there.

The image of the hidden tower flashed in his mind and he pushed it away. All he wanted was to be free of women, not chase after one in a tower.

Penn came to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

Guilt swam in Nick’s gut over what he had just done to his friend. He should know better. Penn was honorable and would never consider a flirtation with Kiki. She was as much a sister to him as she was to Nick.

“I…”

Penn waved his hand in the air. “Forgotten.” He let out a sigh, rocking his head back and forth. “You must be out of sorts to assume such a thing.” He glanced at Bryan. “Or to let Bryan stop after only one volley.”

Nick smirked.

Bryan joined them. He ran an appraising eye over Nick. “What has you so occupied, my friend?”

Nick hated how his friends saw through him so easily. He
had
been out of sorts. For days. He had tried ignoring it. He had tried denying it. He could no longer do either, nor could he keep lying to himself over the source of his unrest. It was the music, the sweet song from the tower.

For the past two days, he had forced himself to remain at the castle. Yet every part of him wanted to ride out now, this minute, and find the tower again. He had ridden out twice in the last week–only to note its location on the maps of the Black Forest since he had been unable to find it on his father’s maps. He had yet to mark any location, though.

On neither occasion had he dismounted, nor gone closer to the tower than the outer wall. Instead, he had lurked in the shadows, like a monster in a fairy tale, watching. Hoping for a glimpse of the girl.

A glimpse.

As if he were some moonstruck boy starved for a woman. As if there were not a feast of females all around the province to taste if he wanted them. Or a number of young ladies at the castle willing to be his wife, if that were what he craved.

Still, the tower was in his mind more and more often. Though he had yet to get his glimpse, he had discovered the girl was not alone in the tower. He had seen another woman in the window and, occasionally, when the wind was right, had heard wisps of conversations that suggested she was the girl’s mother.

Nonetheless, what troubled him was the tower itself. How did they get up and down? When did they leave? He had never seen either of them go in or come out, yet he was certain the girl had been alone that first night. And he had yet to hear her sing again, either, which left him disappointed each time he had returned.

He was determined to figure this out, for it was a puzzle he could not resist. Not with that angel in the window, with a voice so beautiful it haunted his sleep every night.

It was frustrating the hell out of him.

Bryan ran his fingers through his hair. “What is her name?”

Nick blinked. “Who?”

“The girl who has you so tied up in knots.”

“If she is in yonder window, she has probably lost all interest in you now.” Penn grinned in the devilishly charming way that wooed more women than any other noble in the province.

Nick punched Penn in the shoulder, and Penn laughed.

“Has your mother finally gotten you to commit to one of the ladies?” Bryan asked.

Everyone in Hohburg Province knew the three of them fought the marriage-noose. Penn preferred all women to a single one. Bryan refused to enter into a loveless marriage–he had lived most his life with parents who acted like acquaintances. Nick had a mother bound and determined to see him married before he reached twenty-five. He had six months to find his own bride or his mother would choose for him.

Something Nick certainly did not want.

“No,” Nick replied, shivering at the thought.

He was loathe to marry any of the local nobility. Too many of them were after him due to his rank. After all, a Duke was a rare prize indeed.

He glanced at the windows above. A gaggle of girls stood there, watching and whispering. If he dared break away from his friends, he would be besieged in moments. He would rather face an army. Women were much more dangerous than anything he would find on a battlefield.

Bryan tipped his head to the side. “You have been riding a lot lately. Do you have someone waiting for you?”

“No, no, I have just been avoiding them.” He gestured to the girls.

“The least of them has to be more entertaining than the Black Forest,” Penn said, wiping his brow. “I know where I would rather spend my evenings.”

“Everyone knows where you would rather spend your evenings,” Bryan countered.

Penn grinned. “Perhaps that is why our dear friend has tucked his latest conquest away. Afraid of a little competition, Nick?” Penn waggled his eyebrows.

“I am not meeting any female,” Nick replied. Yet he could not help thinking about the tower. When Penn looked at him, he turned away, unable to meet his eye.

Bryan smirked. “Then it is a woman.”

“No.” Sighing, he relented. “It was just a voice.”

Both men raised their brows. “Oh?” Penn asked.

Nick waved them off. “I found a tower in the Black Forest, one that is not on any of our maps. I have been going back to mark the position.”

“And?” Penn prodded him in the chest.

Nick hesitated, not sure he wanted to reveal anything about the angel in the tower, but he knew his friends would never let this go if he did not tell them something. “And the first time I was there I heard a girl singing.”

“Ah.” Bryan nodded sagely, looking far wiser than he had when he’d been shooting arrows. “And this is the woman you have been sneaking off to see.”

“No,” Nick said. “Yes.” He sighed. “In a way.”

Penn snickered. “Does she make you keep your eyes closed, then?”

“No interruptions, Penn.” Bryan elbowed him. “Let the man finish this peculiar tale.”

“It sounds strange, I know, but…I have only glimpsed her once, at the window.”
 

The angel in the tower came to mind, and for a brief moment, he could see every detail of her. Nick grimaced, pushing away the memory, waiting for his friends’ reactions. Even to himself, he sounded a fool.

There was a long moment of silence, then Bryan ventured awkwardly, “And you are…in love?”

“No!” Nick said, loudly, his voice echoing around the courtyard. “No,” he tried again, softer. “I am simply intrigued. There is something odd about this tower and the angel.”

“Angel?” Penn asked, raising his brow.

“Girl,” Nick corrected. “Girl in the tower.”

“You said angel,” Bryan added, the tiniest of smiles on his face.

He turned away from them. “It was a girl in a tower. And she never seems to leave it.”

“How do you know that?” Bryan asked. “How often do you go there?”

Nick cleared his throat. “Ah, I have only been twice, but I could not see an entrance into the tower, so I assume she cannot get out.”

“Is she a prisoner?” Penn sounded almost eager.

“I do not know. As I said, it is intriguing.”

Bryan grinned. “It sounds like you need your friends.”

Nick shook his head. “And what would you two do?”

“Help!” they said.

Nick groaned.

Chapter 5

He did not come back.

I replayed the sight of the boy on the wall a hundred times, yet nothing could confirm he was ever there. Perhaps I did just imagine him. As Mother insisted.

Yet I could see him in my mind as plain as sunlight, painted in my head in perfect clarity. His hair, the way the wind whipped a black strand around his face, the square set of his jaw and the cut of his clothing. He was no pauper–no rags overly sewn for him. He was finely dressed, a sash of purple across his chest, with a rich riding cloak in nighttime blue.

A handsome man, traveling through the woods in search of…

I had no answer.

More and more I questioned his existence. What would such a man be doing in the wilderness? Surely I had imagined him. If anyone came across the tower, they would be peasants or thieves looking for refuge.

I had to purge my thoughts of him, for I feared if he were a real man he might come back while Mother was here.

That would be most disastrous. Yet I could not help staring out my window while Mother rested, wondering if he would reappear. The very thought brought goose pimples all over my arms. One appearance could, perhaps, be dismissed as chance–he might have stumbled on the tower unwittingly–but if he returned, it would be with intention and that could not bode well. What could he want with me and my tower?

Perhaps he was a warrior, a knight who led others to battle. I had read of such a man in a book Mother gave me once. He stole a castle and took it over. Perhaps this man was a warrior, wanting a base to attack the province.

There had been great wars, Mother had told me. Maybe another one had begun and, even now, the forest hid a horde of warriors, waiting for some secret signal to begin the battle. Large brutes with long, scraggly hair, mean, angry faces, and thick, broad chests. Violent warriors who fought and killed…

Would they kill us, if we were here?

We would know their location…they would not like that.

Panic welled in my chest. Yet the memory came back of the boy–he was not dressed in armor. He seemed, honestly, rather simply dressed, as any man would be.

What if he was not a man at all, but a wizard, one capable of changing his appearance to seem less threatening?

Powerful wizards existed. I knew so, for Mother had told me. Men were masters of manipulation. A wizard would use his magical smile and attempts at kindness to disarm me, to hide his sinister plans. He would worm himself into my good graces until he caught me and dragged me to his lair, there to reveal his hunched back and gnarled teeth.

I shivered. The boy on the wall had been large. Maybe he was a warrior, then. Yet he wore such a bright blue cloak, so obvious in the dark of twilight. And blue had always been my favorite color. Perhaps he was a wizard, able to read my mind.