Foremost (The Lost Princesses Book 2) Read online

  Books by Jody Hedlund

  Young Adult: The Lost Princesses Series

  Always: Prequel Novella

  Evermore

  Foremost

  Hereafter

  Young Adult: Noble Knights Series

  The Vow: Prequel Novella

  An Uncertain Choice

  A Daring Sacrifice

  For Love & Honor

  A Loyal Heart

  A Worthy Rebel

  The Bride Ships Series

  A Reluctant Bride

  The Orphan Train Series

  An Awakened Heart: A Novella

  With You Always

  Together Forever

  Searching for You

  The Beacons of Hope Series

  Out of the Storm: A Novella

  Love Unexpected

  Hearts Made Whole

  Undaunted Hope

  Forever Safe

  Never Forget

  The Hearts of Faith Collection

  The Preacher’s Bride

  The Doctor’s Lady

  Rebellious Heart

  The Michigan Brides Collection

  Unending Devotion

  A Noble Groom

  Captured by Love

  Historical

  Luther and Katharina

  Newton & Polly

  Foremost

  Northern Lights Press

  © 2019 Copyright

  Jody Hedlund Kindle Edition

  www.jodyhedlund.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

  Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearances of certain historical figures are accordingly inevitable. All other characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Emilie Hendryx of E. A. Hendryx Creative

  Table of Contents

  Half-Title

  Books by Jody Hedlund

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About the Author

  Young Adult Fiction from Jody Hedlund

  More from Jody Hedlund

  Chapter

  1

  Maribel

  I crouched next to Edmund behind the boulder. The harpy eagle circled overhead, her gray-and-white markings blending with the frosty winter sky.

  “She is beautiful today,” I whispered reverently, my breath rising in a puff and freezing on my already-chilled cheeks.

  Focused on Sheba, Edmund was lost in silent communication with the mighty bird of prey. As a Fera Agmen—an animal trainer—Edmund had raised Sheba from the moment she’d hatched five years past, and the two had a special bond I’d always admired.

  The Highlands stretched out below us as far as the eye could see. The desolate, mountainous terrain was covered in a thin blanket of snow and ice, broken by sharp, rocky crags and the rare deciduous, now leafless and gray. A few evergreens—hemlock and spruce—stood in remote clusters like sentinels guarding the convent.

  “Has she found the valerian yet?” I rubbed my mittened hands together for warmth.

  “Patience, Maribel,” Edmund whispered, his eyes still trained on the enormous eagle. He had every right to be exasperated with me, but his voice remained level and calm.

  Patience wasn’t one of my strengths, although I’d tried hard to cultivate it. I pressed my hand against the outline of my rosary and crucifix beneath my heavy woolen cloak, reminding me to pray. I had only six months until I turned eighteen and became eligible to take my vows and become a nun, but I had much growing to do before I’d be ready for the honor.

  I lifted a silent petition that God would help me curb my faults, for I wanted nothing more than to take my vows and spend my life serving Him in the convent.

  Edmund rose and whistled through his teeth. The call was lilting and commanding at the same time, a wordless language belonging to the eagles, one he’d learned and perfected during his years of apprenticeship as a Fera Agmen.

  I followed Sheba’s wide circle above a copse of spruce until she swept down and disappeared among the branches. I was ashamed to admit that, if not for Edmund, I likely would have gone down the mountain to pluck the valerian myself, heedless of the strict boundaries set by the abbess.

  I’d done so a time or two or even three when my medicinal supplies had run low and I’d needed one of the rare herbs that grew in the Highlands—one I didn’t cultivate in the convent’s boxed gardens. I only went beyond the boundaries on those days when the nuns’ rules felt especially suffocating. Most often, like today, I obeyed and enlisted Edmund’s assistance.

  Stretching to my full height, I waited beside Edmund, my shoulder almost brushing his. He was taller than I was by a thumb’s length. Thin and wiry, he didn’t appear brawny. But all his years of sword drills with Wade had made him stronger than he looked. He hadn’t developed into the serious soldier Wade had desired. But he was proficient with weapons, which was why the sisters allowed me to go out with him.

  Of course, Edmund’s friendship with a number of animals in the Highlands made him even more of a protector, especially when so many wild and dangerous creatures roamed this part of Mercia.

  Besides, Edmund was one of my dearest friends, along with Colette. The three of us were all orphans, having arrived at the convent after King Ethelwulf’s invasion of Mercia. We’d lost our parents during the bloodbath that followed when the king had slain entire noble families in order to ensure loyalty to himself. Someone had brought me to Sister Agnes when she’d lived at St Cuthbert’s in the eastern Iron Hills. From there, Sister Agnes had carried me to refuge at St. Anne’s.

  We hadn’t stayed at St. Anne’s long before we’d moved again—several more times—before finally joining a handful of other sisters fleeing the king’s persecution. We’d formed a new convent among the natural caves in the Highlands in a spot so remote no one had discovered our presence there during the past seventeen years.

  Wade was the only one who ever went down from the high country, and he only left twice a year to purchase provisions we couldn’t make or grow for ourselves. I couldn’t deny that in recent years I’d watched his tall, strong figure hiking down the rocky path with more than a little longing to go with him. I’d tried to dampen that sinful desire to see beyond the Highlands, to walk in the Iron Cities, take a boat down the Cress River, and eventually reach the royal city of Delsworth on the East Sea.

  However, no matter how hard I attempted to squelch my wish to see more of the world, much to my dismay, the desire had only grown. I needed to be content with the solitary existence we had in our lonely caves. I needed to appreciate the simplicity of life here and even the hardships—of which there were plenty. I needed to
be grateful for the small group of people I could call my family. Even if Sister Agnes had passed away two years ago, I still had the other dear nuns who had become loving mothers to me.

  I was blessed. I couldn’t forget it.

  Even now, I was blessed because Edmund was so willing to endure my many whims and faults. I hadn’t required the valerian today. Yes, I was running low in my supply. But more than that, I’d longed to get outside for a while, to feel the cold sting of air against my nose and cheeks, to drag in deep lungsful of the thin mountain air, and to see the openness of the wild, but beautiful land.

  As a postulant preparing to become a nun, I was required to adhere to the strict rules and prayer schedule of the convent. I had less freedom now than as a child, and rightly so. Nevertheless, I was thankful Edmund gave in to my herb-hunting requests as often as he could.

  Edmund shifted his gaze to me, his bay-leaf-green eyes dark with understanding. “Sheba will have it soon.”

  “She knows she must get the root of the plant, does she not?”

  “She’s done it before, Maribel.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He focused his attention on the spruce grove concealing Sheba. At twenty-one his profile had long since lost its boyishness and was now sharply defined with an aristocratic nose and chin. His hair, which had once been as light and fair as mine, had ripened into a warm brown. Concealed beneath the hood of his heavy cloak, it was still as straight and fine as it had always been, long and tied back with a leather strip. The winter wind had teased strands loose, and they blew across his cheek.

  Even though we both came from noble families, over the years he’d adopted the role of a lay worker, joining Wade in taking care of the livestock, creating and repairing our iron tools, cookware, and utensils, and hunting and fishing for game. Perhaps this wasn’t the life either of us had been born to lead, but we knew no other. And we were happy.

  Weren’t we?

  I wrapped my cloak tighter around my formless gray habit and let my gaze linger on the rocky horizon. “Have you ever thought of what life would be like out there?”

  He followed my gaze. “You know I haven’t.”

  In spite of having the conversation on previous occasions, I was sure one of these times his answer might be different. “Not even a little?”

  “I’m content here.” He slanted a sideways look at me.

  “Then you still have never considered leaving?”

  “Why would I? You’re here.” He shifted as if his admission embarrassed him.

  “Surely you would be glad to leave behind all my escapades.”

  “Who would get you out of trouble, if not me?”

  I laughed lightly. “Truly. I would be lost if not for you.”

  “Then you see, I can never leave you.”

  “But after I take my vows, I shall not need so much rescuing.” I wouldn’t need any rescuing. I’d finally have to settle down and become serious, devoting myself to a life of quiet and solitude expected of nuns.

  “You don’t have to take the vows.” The earnestness of his tone surprised me.

  I turned to face him, wanting to read his expression and his eyes. But he stared straight ahead, providing only his strong profile to study. “I have always believed I would become a nun when I come of age. You know that.”

  The muscles in his jaw flexed. “Maybe you’d be happier doing something else.”

  I’d never considered anything but being a nun. After watching Sister Agnes work as a physician and learning everything from her, I’d assumed I’d follow in her footsteps and become the convent physician. Already the nuns looked to me for medical treatment and sought out my remedies for their ailments.

  “I cannot think of anything else I would be happier doing,” I responded. “Besides, I have nowhere to go—no family, no friends who would take me in. This place is all I have.”

  He pivoted to face me, the angular lines in his expression drawn taut, his eyes more intense than usual. “I’d take care of you.”

  For a moment, I sensed something deeper, something different in his declaration that went beyond the bounds of our friendship. But before I could question him, his attention shifted beyond me, and he stiffened, his dagger out of its sheath and wielded before I could blink.

  “Move behind me very slowly.” His voice was low and urgent.

  I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over my shoulder, and I sucked in a sharp breath at what I saw. There, less than two dozen paces away, a cougar crouched low, its bright-gold eyes riveted on me. It was thin and mangy, every rib evident beneath its lusterless winter coat.

  “Now, Maribel.” Edmund grabbed my arm and shoved me behind him.

  The cougar snarled, revealing its sharp incisors, which it clearly intended to sink into one of us for a long-overdue meal.

  Edmund snarled back and then released a low growl with a guttural call. The cougar’s hungry eyes shifted to Edmund. It responded with a rumble in the same guttural language. I wanted to ask Edmund to interpret the communication. But his fingers only tightened and positioned me more securely behind him, which told me the conversation with the cougar wasn’t going well.

  The beast was likely too hungry for Edmund to reason with. Although summer and autumn had provided a bountiful crop and had brought an end to the drought that had plagued Mercia, the population of game in the Highlands was still low. And after a winter of having so little to scavenge, this cougar was desperate.

  Edmund released a sharp, piercing whistle and then thrust his knife at the cougar. He hated to injure or kill the wild beasts that roamed the Highlands, even the most dangerous. He preferred to reason with them first. But sometimes he failed and had to resort to violence.

  “Sheba is coming for you.” He moved again, keeping himself between the cougar and me.

  I glanced to the low clouds, watching for the eagle’s appearance. “What about you?”

  He crouched lower into a fighting position as Wade had trained him. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I do not want to leave you behind.”

  “I’ll defeat him easier without you here.”

  Before I could formulate a retort, Sheba’s cry warned me of her approach, and I braced myself for her impact. Her wingspan was over six and a half feet in length, longer than Edmund’s height. Her talons were larger than bear claws. And now that she was full-grown, her body weight equaled that of a boy.

  The brush of wings and wind was rapidly followed by the pinch of her talons around my upper arms. In an instant, my feet lifted from the ground and I was airborne. I gritted against the pain of her claws, thankful for my heavy cloak and habit that provided some padding, but knew I’d suffer welts from her hold.

  I could feel her strain to lift me. At five feet six inches, I was slight and slender, but even so, Sheba was accustomed to carrying the lighter weight of hares, raccoons, and sometimes foxes. She had borne me before during the few times I’d given in to Edmund’s requests to provide the eagle the practice. But she’d never carried me far and never for long.

  As Sheba ascended above Edmund, the cold January wind swirled my cloak and habit, crawling underneath and sending chills up my legs. At the same moment Sheba spirited me upward, the cougar pounced upon Edmund.

  My heart leaped up and lodged in my throat, rendering my scream silent. Thankfully, Edmund’s reflexes were honed, and he dodged the advance, running his blade across the cougar’s flank. Even from several dozen feet above, I could see the line of crimson forming across the cat’s body. It released a pained screech. And Edmund responded with another guttural call.

  Sheba’s wings flapped furiously until my feet bumped against an outcropping of rock, and I realized she was depositing me upon the flat surface of a tall boulder too high for the cougar to scale. As the leather soles of my boots came into contact with the stone, she released her grip. I’d not yet perfected a graceful landing, and the momentum sent me to my knees in a painful crash.

  Sheba shriek
ed and flapped away. I wished I knew her language so I could ask her to assist Edmund. Instead, she surged into the air and circled above us, looking down as Edmund spread his feet and held out his knife, readying himself for another attack.

  For several long minutes, Edmund and the cougar faced off, but it didn’t lunge again, apparently too weak and hungry to use its agility and strength to its advantage. Edmund held himself steady until the cougar slunk away, sensing defeat.

  Only after the cat disappeared down the mountain, did Edmund turn and look at me, his eyes wide with anxiety. “Are you all right?”

  “I fare well.” I rolled my arms to ease the ache from Sheba’s talons. “And you?”

  “Not a scratch. But I can’t say as much for the poor creature. If only it would have listened to reason.”

  “Will it die?”

  “Probably.” Edmund’s pained expression revealed his abhorrence at the prospect of the cougar’s death, whether from wounds or from starvation. But Fera Agmen, as skilled as they were, had limits as to how much they could influence an animal’s behavior.

  Edmund whistled, and within seconds Sheba ceased her circling and began to swoop toward me. I rose and straightened my shoulders. At that moment, I felt as though I stood on the highest point of the Highlands. I could see, for a league in all directions, the barrenness of the mountainous table. Its desolateness spread out before me, icy, jagged, and lonely.

  So lonely . . .

  A movement by a distant crag at the eastern ravine snagged my attention. My breath caught as a figure in a hooded black cloak stepped out from behind the rock. The person was too far away to distinguish. But from the pointed way he stared in my direction, I knew he’d clearly seen me.

  I considered dropping to my belly and attempting to hide, but Sheba’s talons clamped around my upper arms again. In one easy motion, she propelled me down until my feet touched the ground in front of Edmund. His hands reached for my waist, steadying me and keeping me upright.

  As Sheba flapped her large wings upward and away, all I could picture was the black-cloaked figure. The very thought that we’d been discovered after years of secrecy turned my blood to ice.