Gabe didn’t like remembering his sister’s death. He’d been playing nearby when she’d fallen into the lake. Elsebeth had been splashing at the edge of the water, and he’d assumed she was enjoying herself on the bank. He hadn’t even noticed when the splashing stopped. The rest of the day was fuzzy; only bits and pieces stuck in his memory. He’d been very young, only six years old, but he recalled the heavy weight inside him, a feeling he now knew was guilt. At the time he’d felt as if he’d been bad, as if Elsebeth’s death was his fault. After all, he was her older brother. He should have watched out for her, protected her, saved her.
And he felt the same way now about Sophie. Sophie needed him. He was supposed to keep her from danger. He should have been wise enough and cautious enough not to get thrown into the dungeon.
I’ve failed everyone
.
He looked around at the bare, cold dungeon and imagined Sophie spending days and nights here. The unfairness of her being locked in this awful place made him burn to exact justice
on her behalf, made him long to put his hands around the duchess’s neck and choke her. But here he was, completely helpless to rescue himself, much less Sophie.
The poor girl had been subjected to the horrors of living under the duchess’s thumb her whole life. He wanted to see her rescued from this place, living a happy life in freedom.
God, don’t let me fail!
Would Valten appreciate her? Would he cherish her, understand what she’d been through? Gabe would make sure Valten treated her right.
If he got out of this alive.
Right now he wasn’t exactly in a position to make anyone do anything. Sophie might never meet any of Gabe’s family unless he escaped from this dungeon.
Gabe went over to the one window, which was at eye level, and took hold of the bars. He yanked and tugged, hoping to feel them give a little, but the bars didn’t budge. He tugged again. Same result.
One more time, God
. He rubbed his hands together. He spit on them and rubbed again. He grabbed the bars, took a deep breath and —
Give me the strength
— pushed, then pulled, with all his might.
He wanted to believe he’d felt them give way just a tiny bit. But he couldn’t lie to himself. They hadn’t budged at all.
“The duchess threw Gabe in the dungeon!”
Sophie stared at Petra, who had just burst into the kitchen, her eyes big and round. Sophie sat down heavily on a stool near the stove.
She would have to save him. She needed Gabe to help her get to Valten, who may not believe she was his betrothed if she simply showed up at his castle declaring she was Duke
Baldewin’s daughter. Besides, Gabe had done nothing worthy of death, and Sophie refused to allow the duchess to kill another innocent man. But she’d have to make her escape at the same time. If Sophie helped Gabe escape, the duchess would find out it was her and kill her. It was now or never. The only problem was how to steal the key to the dungeon.
Sophie stood and hurried toward the corridor — and almost ran face-first into Lorencz.
Something about the look on his face — sober and cool, his eyes vacant but intent — made the skin on the back of her neck tingle. She took a step back.
“Sophie. I need you to help me with something.” There was no sign of flirtation in his tone, and his face wore a blank expression.
“What?”
“There’s a dog, a puppy, trapped in the woods. I need you to help me rescue him.”
“Why don’t you rescue him?”
“Because I’m too big to crawl into the hole after him.”
“I don’t believe you.” Besides, she remembered the kiss the huntsman had forced on her, remembered what Darla had boasted about, and knew she’d be a fool to go with him.
The set of his jaw let her know he was angry. “Very well, then. The puppy can stay trapped and starve.” He turned to leave.
“Why don’t you ask Darla to help you?”
He practically sneered. “Jealous, are you?”
I don’t have time for this!
“What is it you really want?”
“If you come with me, I will help Gabe escape from the dungeon.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Oh, would you?” Petra spoke up, clasping her hands and looking pleadingly at Lorencz. “I am afraid the duchess will kill the poor boy if you don’t help him.”
“Exactly. She will kill him. But I will let him out — if you come with me.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“Have I ever harmed you, little Sophie?” He raised his brows and held out his hand to her. She stared at it.
“When have you ever cared about a puppy?”
He took a deep breath, his chest slowly moving up, then down. He shrugged. “I admit, I don’t care that much. But I had promised the puppy to a child in the village who asked for a pet.”
“You don’t care about the village children.”
“How do you know that? I have a sister who lives in the village. She has three children, and her children have friends. Why would I not care? Will you help me or not? Gabe is in the dungeon, bleeding and in need of care, and you are wasting time.”
She ignored his hand and gave him a curt nod. He turned and headed out the door, and she followed him out of the castle and into the woods. She felt for her knife, always in her dress pocket, and clasped the handle.
Sophie felt more and more uneasy the farther they walked. She had finally decided to turn back when Lorencz stopped. They were at the clearing where they’d had their picnic.
“The puppy’s over here, on the other side of this tree.”
The cold look on Lorencz’s face made Sophie’s stomach sink. Something was definitely wrong. She clutched the handle of her knife as Lorencz turned away. He took two more steps, but she didn’t follow, only watched as the huntsman walked just past a large tree and fell to his knees.
“Here it is.” He motioned with his hand, staring down at the ground.
He does seem to be peering into a hole
. Sophie stepped closer. Lorencz stood and slowly turned to her. A hairbreadth of a second later, his hand flew out and grabbed her throat. She drew
the knife out of her pocket and slashed at his arm, but Lorencz blocked it with a blow to her wrist.
“I have no choice,” Lorencz said through clenched teeth. “The duchess will kill me if I don’t do as she commanded.”
Sophie struggled, clawing at the hand that was choking her. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
God, don’t let me die. I have to save Gabe. Don’t let me die
.
Lorencz grabbed her wrists in one of his enormous hands. She had to get away. She struck at him with her knee, hitting his groin.
Lorencz roared, his eyes wild, his teeth bared. He roared again as he slammed her head against the tree trunk behind her.
No, God
, was the only thing she could think to pray before her world went black.
Duchess Ermengard felt a tingle of excitement all the way down to her toes when Lorencz walked into her private chamber. He carried a small bundle wrapped in a dark cloth. The day she had dreamed about had finally come. Why had she kept Sophie alive so long? Her husband was never coming back — the coward — so it wasn’t as if she needed to keep Sophie as a bargaining tool. He couldn’t take Hohendorf away from her any longer.
“What do you have for me?” A gleeful giggle escaped her. She clasped her hands to her throat as Lorencz came closer and extended the cloth bundle toward her. She felt like a girl at Christmastime.
“Your Grace, I have brought you the girl’s heart.” Lorencz looked flushed. His eyelashes were wet and his green eyes glittered.
The man was pathetic. She’d thought he was of harder stock than that. He quickly bowed his head, no doubt to hide his unmanly weakness.
She took the bundle in her hands and unwrapped it. It was still warm and wet. Perhaps she could have it dried, like a piece of fruit, and keep it in a prominent place. Maybe in a decorative box on a shelf. Or if that didn’t work, she could burn it and keep the ashes. She’d also heard of barbarians who ate their enemies’ hearts, believing it would give them their enemies’ strengths.
Not that Sophie had any strength for Ermengard to inherit, but still, she would think about it.
“Thank you, Huntsman. You may go.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.” He bowed out of the room.
Duchess Ermengard walked over to her looking glass hanging on the wall, still holding the heart in her hand. She stared at her reflection, admiring her own beauty. Each feature was perfectly symmetrical and proportionate. Her nose was small but strong. Her lips were plump and red, her teeth straight and white, her eyelashes stained black, and her face and neck powdered a fashionable white. She was beautiful. And there was no one anywhere — not anymore — who rivaled her beauty.
Perhaps she would rid herself of the huntsman now that he had done something he so obviously detested. Besides, he was straying. He had been with that tart Darla. The duchess couldn’t have that. Yes, she would find a new … huntsman. Someone younger and more exciting. After all, the most beautiful woman in the region deserved the best.
Later, after she’d had her meal and her wine, she would tell Gabe of Sophie’s death. She would taunt him and laugh at him and show him the proof that Sophie was dead, that he hadn’t been able to save her. How would that make him feel? Would he cry like a baby? And eventually, she would kill him too, of course. But for now she needed to rest and build up her strength. It was going to be a full day and night.
God, please get me out of here. Gabe pressed
his forehead against the wall as he prayed. His arms ached from tugging on the bars of the window, and his shoulder throbbed from throwing himself against the solid wood door. If you give me another chance, I vow I will not fail Sophie again. I’ll get her out of here and get her safely to Hagenheim. Please help me.
Metal scraped metal on the other side of the door to the dungeon, then the hinges squealed as the door opened.
Thank you!
Gabe sprinted toward the door. When he saw Lorencz, he hesitated. Would he need to fight this man to get out? Whatever he had to do, he would do it. And now. This might be his only chance. He prepared to lunge at the huntsman.
To his surprise, Lorencz’s face was flushed. Gabe had never seen him looking so agitated.
“Well?” Lorencz barked. “Come on, man, make haste.”
Gabe took the steps two at a time and leaped out the door, holding up his fists, ready to fight. But Lorencz was already preceding him down the passageway that led out of the castle. Gabe ran after him.
“What is happening?” Gabe asked.
Lorencz didn’t answer until they were outside. Gingerbread was already saddled and standing nearby, placidly grazing beside a second horse, a black stallion he presumed was Lorencz’s.
“I don’t have time to explain everything. Sophie is in danger. If you don’t get to her now, the duchess will kill her.”
“Where is she?”
“You should know the area well, seeing as you likely followed us there when Sophie and I picnicked.” Lorencz raised one eyebrow. “She’s tied to a tree in the clearing.”
“What do you mean, ‘she’s tied to a tree’?” Gabe grabbed the front of Lorencz’s tunic and clenched his fist.
Lorencz pushed him away, and Gabe stumbled back into his horse, who whinnied and tried to nip his shoulder.
“The duchess ordered me to kill her, but I didn’t. Now get on your horse, untie Sophie, and ride as fast and as far from this place as you can.”
“I need to get a horse for Sophie.”
“No.” Lorencz seized his shoulder roughly and turned him around. “Get on your horse and set off. Now. You can’t go near the stable without being seen, not with all the guards milling around there. And as soon as Duchess Ermengard finds out you’re not in the dungeon and Sophie’s not dead, they’ll be hunting you. You have to get Sophie to safety.”
Lorencz practically shoved him into the saddle, then mounted his own black horse.
Gabe caught his eye. “Thank you. For your help.”
Lorencz looked back at him grimly. Gabe wondered where the huntsman would go, with just his horse and the clothes on his back.
As Gabe was turning his horse around, Petra came running out of the kitchen.
“Wait!” She thrust a cloth bag into Gabe’s hand. “If you run into trouble, there is a safe place you can go. It’s about three days’ ride from here, to the north. Locals call it the Cottage of the Seven. It’s in a glen on the east side of the river.”
Gabe nodded.
“Ask for Dominyk the Wise and the Cottage of the Seven if you get lost.”
Gabe was already riding across the yard and into the woods. Her words followed him away from the castle.
In a few moments he was at the clearing.
Was this a trap? Or had the huntsman actually set him free from the dungeon in hopes he’d rescue Sophie? God answered prayers in the strangest ways sometimes.
But there was no scullary maid tied to a tree in the clearing. The only sign that Lorencz may have been telling the truth were ropes at the base of a large tree.
“Sophie?” he called quietly, keeping alert in case the duchess had planned an ambush. “Sophie, where are you?”
Now that you’ve given me another chance, God, please don’t let me fail. I can’t fail again
.
Sophie trembled from behind the tree as she watched Gabe frantically searching the clearing and calling for her. Until his intentions were clear, she intended to stay put.
Her head still hurt from where Lorencz had slammed her against the tree trunk. She had wakened to find herself tied up and him holding his knife against her throat. The huntsman’s eyes had held the same darkness she’d seen on Duchess Ermengard’s face so many times before, and she was sure he would kill her.
But then Lorencz dropped the knife. He looked at her as if she’d suddenly grown wings and feathers, backing away from her slowly and shaking his head. “I can’t do it,” he whispered. “Oh, God, I can’t do it.” Then he’d turned and stumbled away into the trees.
When her vision stopped spinning, she squatted down, stretched her arm, and managed to reach his knife with one of her fingers. Slowly, she nudged the handle close enough to grasp
it. She’d freed herself from the ropes just as she heard a horse’s hooves approaching, and she ran into the woods. When she saw it was Gabe, she’d been relieved — but only for a moment.
What was he doing out of the dungeon? Had he been sent to lure her into the open? She had never imagined Lorencz would slam her head against a tree, tie her up, and hold a knife on her — her mind was still reeling with the thought that he’d actually intended to kill her — so how did she know she could trust Gabe? His kind words and incredible promises could easily be a ruse.
Gabe dismounted from his horse and knelt to examine the ropes. Sophie turned and ran, still clutching the knife. She sprinted as fast as she could, bushes snatching at her clothes, limbs slapping her in the face, leaves temporarily blinding her.
Her foot caught on a root and she fell headlong to the ground, flinging Lorencz’s knife in front of her.
“Sophie, stop! It’s me, Gabe!”
She heard his horse’s hooves pounding toward her. She’d never be able to escape him on foot. She jumped up and whirled to face him, grabbing the knife off the ground, ready to defend herself however was necessary.
“Sophie, it’s all right. I’m here to help you.” He looked bewildered. “I won’t hurt you.”
She wanted to believe him, but her heart pounded in disagreement. The thought of Gabe turning against her, trying to kill her, was even worse than Lorencz’s attempt.
Although that had been enough of a shock.
Gabe leaned toward her from the back of his enormous horse. Then she noticed his cheekbone. It was bruised, scraped raw, and swollen. “When the duchess finds out that I escaped and that you’re still alive, she will kill us both. We have to make haste.”
His warm brown eyes looked so sincere, Sophie decided to
take the risk. She put the knife into her pocket and placed her hand in his.
Gabe hauled her up in front of him. To remain stable, she was forced to sit astraddle like Gabe. It wasn’t proper, but it was better than getting herself and Gabe killed, and her skirt was full enough that it hid most of her legs. She adjusted it slightly just to be sure.
He slapped the reins and the horse leaped forward. The saddle was roomy, but Sophie was still practically sitting in Gabe’s lap.
“Where are we going? Where will you take me?”
“To Hagenheim, to my family.” His prickly chin brushed her cheek as he bent to speak next to her ear.
“Wait!” Her heart seized at the thought of leaving behind her beloved Gospel of Saint Luke. “I have to get something!” She looked up into his brown eyes. “Please. I need it. We have to go back.”
“We have no time as it is.” After a moment’s pause, he asked, “What is this thing you’re willing to get us killed for?”
“It’s a piece of the Bible, a section from the book of Saint Luke.”
“If we make it to Hagenheim, you can have the entire Bible. I will personally get one for you. But you won’t need the book of Saint Luke if you’re not alive to read it.”
He was right, of course. It made her ache to think of losing her precious book, the words that had comforted her through the past ten years of her life, but not enough for Gabe to lose his life retrieving it.
She turned her head and looked up at him. There was a serious look on his face, which softened when he looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Sophie.”
She shook her head, hoping he understood the gesture meant it didn’t matter. She was afraid if she spoke, she might choke on the words.
The bruise on his cheek was quite prominent. She wished she could hurt whoever had hurt him, wished she could command he be thrown in the worst dungeon and locked away for as long as Gabe’s bruise remained visible.
She sighed. It was a silly thought. She’d never have that kind of power. Besides, her former priest would scold her if he knew she was wishing for revenge.
As the trail grew more rugged, Sophie was thrown back into Gabe’s chest by the sudden upward charge of the horse. The spot on the back of her head where Lorencz had slammed her into the tree hit Gabe’s breastbone, sending a sharp, shooting pain through her skull. Gabe wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her snugly, and gripped the reins with his other hand. She turned her neck slightly and rested against him.
They were both silent as Gabe guided the huge horse through the dense trees.
“Are you hurt?” Gabe spoke the words by her ear, his deep voice surprising her, his warm breath like a feather against her ear.
“You don’t need to worry about me. I am well.”
“Are you sure? I can’t imagine how Lorencz managed to tie you to a tree. Did you let him do that to you?”
“Of course not.” Sophie bristled. “I was unconscious. My head hit the tree, and I blacked out.”
“You hit your head? Where?” The hand that had been around her waist was now on her head, rubbing, his fingers probing.
“Stop that.” But she couldn’t get away from his examination.
He found her injury, and she winced at the pain his touch caused.
“That’s a bad bump. It’s bloody too. Are you sure you’re well?”
It was strange he should ask, because at that moment she felt as though her last meal was trying to come back up. She closed
her eyes and took deep breaths as Gabe’s arm circled her waist again. The horse’s gait jarred her head and every joint in her body. She hung her head.
“Sophie?”
His voice was so kind and gentle.
Will Valten’s voice be as gentle as Gabe’s?
She rested her head against Gabe’s chest again and breathed deliberately and slowly. Gradually the sick feeling in her stomach subsided. But she didn’t lift her head from his chest. It was too hard to try to hold herself steady against the horse’s jolting gait.
Gabe had said he was taking her to his home, to his family. As she rested against him, holding her hand over the wooden cross around her neck, a sense of joy and peace bloomed inside her. If they were able to escape the duchess’s guards, she would be free from Duchess Ermengard. She would see the sun and feel it on her skin, have the freedom she’d always lacked. Her dream was coming true. And Gabe was taking her to her betrothed. She would marry Gabe’s brother and then they would be family.
“I’ve never had a brother before.”
Gabe tightened his grip around her waist. He seemed so intent on getting them as far away from the castle as quickly as he could, she wasn’t sure if he’d even heard what she’d said. But then he pulled on the big horse’s reins and stopped.
“Sorry, but I have to let you down for a moment. Can you stand?”
She nodded.
He let Sophie slip off the saddle, then he dismounted and stepped toward a half-fallen-down wooden structure amongst the trees. Sophie watched curiously as he went inside then came back out with a large leather pouch and a crossbow he slung over his back by a strap around his shoulder.
Tall, with his head high and a grim, determined glint in his eye, he looked quite capable of keeping her safe.
He strapped the leather pouch tightly to the back of the saddle, next to a cloth bundle she hadn’t noticed earlier. “Where did you get that?”
“The cook handed it to me as I was leaving. I hope it’s full of food.” He helped Sophie back on to the horse, then hauled himself up to sit behind her once more.
Knowing Petra, the bundle
was
filled with food, the kind that would not spoil on a long journey. Petra always did like to show her love by feeding people.
They pressed onward once more. She was nestled against Gabe’s chest again — not an unpleasant place to be at all, she discovered. With his arm circling her waist, she felt safe.
“Gabe, does the duchess know you’re helping me? Will her guards be after us?”
“I hope she thinks I’m still in her dungeon, and that you’re dead. It could buy us some time, because as soon as she finds me gone, she’ll send her guards. And she may wonder if you’re still alive when she discovers Lorencz has disappeared.”
“Did he leave?”
“Yes. The way he took off, I don’t think he’ll be back.”
“Good. I never want to see him again.” Sophie suppressed a shudder as she pictured his face again just before he smashed her head against the tree. “How did you get out of the dungeon?”
“Lorencz. He let me out.”
“Oh.” Perhaps Lorencz was repentant. She hoped so. For his sake.
They’d been traveling since before midday, and the sun had already sunk behind a peak at his left shoulder. Gabe pushed Gingerbread to get as far away from Hohendorf as possible before nightfall. The duchess had probably discovered him missing by now. If so, her guards could easily catch up to them at
any minute. Then again, they would probably have some trouble tracking them, since Gabe and Sophie hadn’t followed a trail, just headed in a general northerly direction. Every so often they encountered the small river that wound north and south through the mountains and forests. Whenever Gabe saw it, he knew he was going in the right direction.
Gabe was all too aware of the way Sophie felt in his arms. He kept reminding himself that she belonged to Valten, and he conjured up Brittola’s face often — as often as he started enjoying the trusting way Sophie leaned her head against his chest, the silkiness of her hair brushing his chin.
But she thought of him as a brother. And that’s just what he was, for she and Valten would be married as soon as he could get her back to Hagenheim.
It was a long way to Hagenheim, about seven days. His heart sank a bit as he thought about just how far it was. Petra had said the “Cottage of the Seven” was three days’ ride to the north. He wasn’t sure what this cottage was, but she had said it was a safe place. In three days, they would probably be in desperate need of food and a comfortable place to sleep. Sophie surely wasn’t used to sleeping outdoors, and he had precious few supplies with him. Although he doubted Sophie would complain. She had lived too hard a life to bemoan a few days of living off the land.