Hereafter (The Lost Princesses Book 3) Read online

  Upon seeing what I’d picked up, she sprang up and lunged for the paper, leaving me with no doubt that this was a map of great importance.

  I held it high out of reach.

  “That’s mine.”

  “It’s mine now.” I started to fold it, hoping it was indeed a map to the Labyrinth of Death, which was a maze in the Highlands that had been discovered over the winter.

  She glared at me now too, and her anger only made her more stunning. The brown of her eyes turned almost ebony, and the pulse in her neck beat harder, drawing my attention to the graceful and elegant lines.

  Under different circumstances, I might have allowed her beauty and anger to sway me to let her keep a few of her books. But with the closing of the evening soon upon us, I couldn’t afford to waste time sparring. Instead, I bent and swiftly slit the leather strap of the pouch in her pocket and snatched it up before she knew what I was doing.

  She grabbed it quicker than I’d expected. “Give that to me at once!”

  I wrenched it free of her fingers and then held it out of her reach as I’d done with the map. From the corner of my eye, I could see Lance shaking his head and attempting to say something to Emmeline, confirming my suspicion that whatever was in the pouch was important.

  “I demand you return it to me this instant.” She clawed at my arm, and her fox crouched low, snarling at me.

  In addition to a small book, I traced the hard contour of a key through the leather. A brief glance inside showed me the large gold key that matched the one the king already had. Before the princess could wrestle the pouch away, I stuffed it, along with the map, down my tunic behind my chain mail then dropped my hands to my side, daring—no, inviting—her to retrieve the items.

  But as I suspected would happen, the princess immediately ceased her efforts and merely stared at the bulging spot on my chest, her eyes rounding. She was innocent and unaccustomed to men, to be sure.

  “We must go.” I eyed her now empty sack lying on the ground. There was no sense in wasting time sending her back into the cottage to repack. I suspected any other garments she had would be in the same condition, if not worse than what she was wearing. She’d need a completely new wardrobe when we arrived in Delsworth, something worthy of a future queen.

  Once again, she knelt and began to pick up the books, dusting them off and carefully stacking them.

  “Say your good-byes,” I ordered.

  She ignored me, tucking pages back into one particularly old book.

  I planted my feet wider, crossed my arms, and narrowed my eyes—a look that never failed to make men quiver.

  “I will pack my books first,” she said.

  “You are not bringing them.”

  “Yes. I must.”

  “No.”

  She glanced up at me, her eyes dark again and flashing, her chin jutting stubbornly. “Yes.”

  With a growl, I reached for her, scooped her up, and tossed her over my shoulder.

  “Put me down!” She wiggled within my grip, attempting to slither down.

  I tightened my hold and stalked toward the woodland while she pounded on my back with her fists and tried to kick her feet against my ribs, this time attempting to use the strength in her torso to free herself. She exerted more force than I’d expected, but she was no match for me, and I continued forward without faltering in my stride.

  I wanted to make it back to our camp before nightfall. Since my men could pack up and be mounted in little time, I hoped we’d be out of Inglewood Forest—at least the better part of it—by sun’s first light. Now that I had the princess, we’d be safest out of the forest, away from the land she knew, for I suspected that if she broke free, she’d do her best to make sure we didn’t find her again.

  Besides, it wouldn’t be long before the queen’s rebel search party discovered we had the princess. When they did, they’d try everything possible to catch up and take her away.

  At a sharp bite of teeth in my calf, I pinned Emmeline with one hand and with the other unsheathed my sword and swung it back.

  “No!” she screamed. “Please don’t!”

  I paused, giving her the chance to save her fox’s life.

  “Bede, go back!” she shouted at the fox. “Go back to Mother and Father, and stay with them.”

  The red fox continued to bound through the tall grass behind us. The creature was as loyal as a dog, if not more so. I hoped for Emmeline’s sake he would obey her. I didn’t want to injure—or kill—her pet. But I couldn’t have him following and slowing us down.

  “Go home, Bede!” she called again, and this time her voice cracked. “Go! Now!”

  The fox finally stopped. I could picture his eyes upon Emmeline, probably confused and worried. A thin needle of guilt pricked me. I was taking the princess away from everyone and everything she’d loved and doing so against her will.

  As I headed into the forest, for just a second I was tempted to put her down and let her say a proper good-bye to her pet and family. But at the sight of my men in my periphery, I put the soft-hearted notion out of my mind.

  I was securing the princess for my men and others like them who didn’t deserve to be dragged into a needless war against Queen Adelaide Constance. I was securing the princess for all the people of Bryttania, to keep the land peaceful and prosperous under their rightful ruler. And most of all, I was securing the princess to show my loyalty and worthiness to the king. He was counting on me, and I couldn’t let him down.

  “Stay!” she shouted at the fox. When she said nothing more, I knew the fox had listened to her. She’d ceased struggling and had grown limp. At the soft sniffles, the guilt came back with stabbing force. Was Emmeline crying?

  A part of me knew I needed to say something. But I sensed anything I offered at this point would only offend her and make her angrier. She needed time to adjust and accept the lot that had befallen her.

  “Run ahead,” I called to Dante. “And alert the others to be ready to leave.”

  My commander nodded and then picked up his pace, disappearing into the woodland ahead of us.

  Even with my extra burden of carrying the princess, we made it back within the hour. Darkness had fallen and several torches had been lit, illuminating the camp and showing we were nearly ready to go. Dante, along with the rest of the men, except for Magnus, were busy tying our belongings to our horses.

  At the sight of me, Magnus pushed up from the log he’d been sitting against and came toward me. Father Patrick followed on his heels. The others paused in their work—likely to get their first glimpse of the princess.

  Gingerly, I lowered her, guessing that after having her head down for the past hour, she’d experience a rush of blood that might make her dizzy. However, the second her feet hit the ground, she launched away from me into the woods, and started to run, the darkness of the forest swallowing her up.

  Chapter

  5

  Emmeline

  I grabbed handfuls of my skirt to prevent it from tripping me and wished I’d kept my boy’s clothing on underneath. Even though the way was dark, I’d been plotting my escape route the entire time my captors had hauled me away.

  I picked a deer trail slightly to the west of the one we’d traversed, knowing it would lead to the brook at the ravine too. I needed only to reach the steep rocks, cross to the other side, and I’d be free and could make my way to one of the tallest and thickest of trees where the king’s soldiers would never find me.

  At the shouts coming from the camp behind me, I pushed myself harder, having only a few seconds’ lead. I was counting on the king’s guards being tired, especially the commander who’d carried me.

  My skirt snagged on a branch, but I kept running, wrenching it loose even as part of it tore away. The pounding of the earth behind me, the crashing of limbs, and the snapping of twigs told me soldiers had begun the chase.

  For an instant, I considered climbing a tree and hiding up high. But such a move could prove risky. Even if I sn
aked my way from tree to tree using the branches, the king’s men would hear me and follow my trail, biding their time until I returned to the ground.

  At the brush of fingers against my upper arm, I twisted and dodged into a different path. Though the forestland was an inky black and the leaves overhead allowed very little moon or starlight to penetrate, the dense trees and windfall couldn’t slow me down—not when Father had made me practice running in the dark many times. I’d always thought he pushed me too hard, had agreed with Mother that he didn’t have to teach me everything he knew.

  But now that I was fleeing for my life, I finally understood why he’d insisted.

  Love for both him and Mother swelled painfully in my throat. I pictured them again tied up, their desperate gazes following my departure. My father’s eyes had silently implored me to do whatever I could to break away.

  Although I wanted to return to the cottage first and cut them loose, I forced that thought from my mind. I had to make my way to Norland. Though the king’s men had done a thorough job in binding my parents, Father would eventually free himself, and then he and Mother would waste no time in heading north too. They wouldn’t risk staying and having the king’s men recapture and use them again to bait me into doing the king’s will.

  The labored breathing of the soldier behind me matched mine. From the burning in my lungs, I wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace for much longer. Hopefully, I could last until I lost my pursuer.

  Another unsuccessful grasp at my back was followed by a blow against my lower legs. As my body jolted forward, I cried out, knowing I’d land hard and probably gouge open my hands and arms in bracing my fall. But before I slammed into the underbrush, fingers made contact with my tunic, slowing my momentum so that the force of my plummet knocked the wind from me and skinned my hands but didn’t inflict the damage I’d expected.

  I should have used the descent to my advantage, rolling, jumping back up, and slipping away—employing stealth and silence to escape the enemy rather than trying to outrun him. But for a second, I was startled by the gentleness of the hands at my back, the same strong hands that had carried me away from home. Hands that belonged to the commander.

  My pause gave him time to secure his grip on my tunic. I wrestled to free myself, twisting and turning and hoping the linen would rip and allow me another opportunity to escape. But he jerked me to my feet and pulled me back so that I tumbled against him. In an instant, his arm wrapped around me, trapping me.

  I expected the sting of his knife upon my throat but heard only the harshness of his breathing and felt the rise and fall of his chest.

  My mind scrambled to remember any tricks my father had taught me about breaking free from this type of hold. Maybe if I bit him—

  “Do not try anything else.” His voice was a low growl. “You might be proficient in the woods, but you will only find I am better.”

  I bent my head, intending to sink my teeth into his wrist so that he’d reflexively loosen his grip. But somehow he anticipated my move and linked his other arm around my neck, forcing my head back.

  “I did not wish to do this, Princess,” he said. “But you leave me no choice but to tie you up.”

  Though I resisted and made the tying difficult, within minutes he’d bound my hands behind my back with his belt and had tied my feet together with strips of my skirt.

  “If you try to bite me again,” he said, straightening, “I shall gag you.”

  I should have been afraid of this man. His strength and speed, as well as his quickness of mind, surpassed even Father’s abilities. But strangely, I didn’t fear him—at least not for my own well-being. If he’d wanted to hurt me, he could have done so already. Instead, he’d treated me cautiously, even carefully.

  Perhaps he was concerned what the king or prince would say if I accrued any injuries or bruises while under his command. Perhaps the king or prince would discipline him, maybe dismiss him from his post.

  In one easy swoop, he picked me up as if I weighed no more than a feather coverlet. I expected him to drape me across his shoulder again—something I dreaded. My ribs were sore, and I wasn’t sure I could take anymore jostling. So when he positioned me in both arms, comfortably against his chest, I was surprised.

  He whistled through his teeth, which I guessed to be the signal to his men that the search was over. Then he began to carry me back to the camp. From the brief glimpse I’d gained before I’d started running, the soldiers were almost finished packing. They’d be ready to ride out before long, taking me away from everything familiar and safe.

  I couldn’t let it happen, but how could I prevent it?

  “I’ll get away from you eventually.” I tugged at the binding on my wrists. Although it wasn’t painfully tight, he’d made certain I couldn’t wiggle out.

  “You will never get away from me unless I allow it.”

  “You think too highly of your abilities.”

  “I speak only the truth.”

  “Perhaps you’ve proven yourself to the king and prince, but you’ve yet to prove yourself to me.”

  “The prince?”

  “The one they call Prince Ethelrex.” I wasn’t accustomed to speaking to men. In fact, the only man I’d ever seen or spoken to was Father. And so, I found the interaction quite strange.

  “And what do you know of . . . Prince Ethelrex?” The commander’s tone had changed, less hard and more curious.

  “I know nothing, and I wish it to remain that way.”

  “Nothing at all?” Surprise laced his voice.

  “Only my father’s warning that since Adelaide and Maribel are married, the king may try to force me to wed the prince.”

  The commander didn’t respond.

  Through the darkness, I wished I could read his face, but I could only distinguish his strong jaw and chin. “You can try to take me to him, but if you succeed, I will never marry him.”

  “Never is a very strong word, Princess.”

  “No one can make me speak wedding vows.”

  “The prince can be persuasive when he needs to be.”

  “He will find I can be stubborn when I need to be.”

  The commander’s stride was long and sure, almost as if he knew the woodland as well as I did. The only sound was his breathing and the crunch of his footsteps until we drew nearer to his camp and heard the other soldiers again.

  I had to do something—anything to free myself. If I could distract the commander, take his attention from my hands tied behind my back, I might be able to reach for a knife in his belt and inflict enough injury that I could get away.

  “Do you like your master?” I asked.

  “My master?”

  “The prince.” I stretched my fingers and brushed against the hilt of his sword.

  “The prince is the strongest and fiercest warrior in the land.”

  “I’m surprised you can admit someone is better than you.” Again, I groped after his weapon, only to have him heft me higher in his arms, far away from any chance of snagging a weapon.

  This man was indeed as sharp as he was strong. Perhaps I’d need to wait to make my escape until he placed me under the command of one of his men. Surely he didn’t intend to watch me every second until he handed me over to the prince.

  “Is my father’s warning true?” I asked. “Will the prince attempt to marry me?”

  “Yes, it is certain he will marry you.”

  “Does he not wish to meet me first? What if he cannot bear the sight of me and loathes my very presence?”

  “He will marry you regardless of his personal feelings in the matter.”

  “I see.” Was the commander insinuating the prince had some hesitations? “Does the prince already love another woman?”

  The commander snorted as if my question was ludicrous.

  “You do not believe in love, Commander?”

  Before he could answer, we stepped through the brush into the clearing where his men had returned and resumed their prep
arations of packing and loading. A young man wearing the finest garments I’d ever seen approached. I guessed he was close to my age—either eighteen or nineteen. Wavy dark hair framed his aristocratic face along with a pointed beard. I’d only seen one drawing of King Ethelwulf from his younger years, and this man looked almost identical.

  Was this Prince Ethelrex? Had he come along on this quest to find me? His clothing and bearing certainly set him apart from the others. But he didn’t seem to be the strongest and fiercest warrior in the land. The commander had likely been resorting to flattering his ruler, was probably accustomed to puffing the prince up to keep him happy.

  As the younger man halted in front of us, I expected the commander to bow or incline his head out of respect. But the prince was too focused on me to notice the slight from his commander. His brows rose higher with each passing second of scrutiny.

  Was he surprised by my appearance?

  A short, stout priest carrying a torch hurried toward us, illuminating the prince’s face even more.

  “She is not what I was expecting,” the prince said, his eyes taking on a glimmer that made me want to shrink back and hide.

  Unfortunately, I had no place to go except further against the commander. But strangely, within his arms I felt safer than I did facing the prince.

  “Her clothing is appalling, and she is in need of grooming,” the prince continued, taking the torch from the priest and holding it above me. “Even so, she is strikingly beautiful.”

  He reached out to touch my cheek, and I recoiled, fear pressing hard against my chest.

  I was surprised when the commander took a quick step back, pulling me away from the prince. I didn’t know why he’d risk defying his master, but I was grateful nonetheless that he seemed willing to protect me.

  But for how long?

  “It is regretful you are having so much trouble keeping hold of her.” The prince eyed my bound feet and then my arms tied at my back. “If she attempts to get away again, I shall have no difficulty in subduing her.”

  Something in the prince’s tone insinuated a danger I couldn’t begin to understand. I sensed this was a man I would never like or trust. And I most certainly couldn’t marry him. I’d have to redouble my efforts to get away. And soon.