An Uncertain Choice(65)

I didn’t know what had happened to Rosemarie. Maybe she’d gone to the convent willingly. But maybe she hadn’t. I knew I’d never be able to live with myself if I failed to at least find out. I needed to hear directly from her that she didn’t love me and didn’t want to be my wife. If she said so, then I’d leave and let her take her vows.

But I couldn’t languish in the dungeon any longer. I’d already shown courage by humbling myself in this pit in order to keep her safe. But now it was time to rise up. Time to charge into battle.

“I want you to call the jailer over to your cell,” I whispered, twisting my tunic tightly. “Then take him by surprise and shove him straight back toward me.”

“And if that doesn’t work, then you’ll push him against my cell?”

“Exactly.” Bartholomew wasn’t a strong man, but we would have the element of surprise on our side. Hopefully the day jailer would have compassion on us and not put up too much of a fight.

The door scraped open, bringing a blinding light and, to my dismay, two unfamiliar guards. The day jailer was nowhere to be seen.

I hid my shirt behind my back, and my muscles tensed, ready for action.

One of the guards sauntered near me. “The abbot wanted me to inform you that since today is Lady Rosemarie’s birthday, she’s decided that the gift she’d like to have most is your head on a silver platter.”

I gave an inward sigh. There was still time. Maybe not much, but at least her birthday hadn’t passed.

“But before that,” the guard continued, “she wanted to make sure you suffered for your crimes. She ordered that you be hanged, drawn, and quartered in the town square at midday.”

Public torture was the last thing Rosemarie would ever order, even against her worst enemy. A burst of fury pumped through my veins. Something was wrong with Rosemarie. I knew it with certainty now.

“I would advise against taking any action against me without the consent of the Duke of Rivenshire, the brother of the High King,” I said, my fingers twitching against my tunic. I didn’t know how I would be able to fight against two guards with only a scrap of cloth, but I had to try.

One of the guards drew nearer, dangling the keys in one hand and holding a spear in the other. The guard by the door followed on his heels, holding the torch.

“My source says that we won’t need to worry about the Duke of Rivenshire or his knights trying to rescue you from your due punishment. He’s been unavoidably detained by the abbot.”

I let the news bounce off my chest. I’d have to worry about my companions later. For now I’d have to fight this battle by myself — ?hopefully with a little aid from Bartholomew.

Through the flickering light, I caught the old man’s gaze and cocked my head toward the second guard. Bartholomew gave a slight nod and set his mouth grimly.

“If you promise to be a good lad,” the guard said, looming nearer, “then I’ll make sure to deliver you to the town square in one piece. If not, I’ll be cutting off your fingers one by one for every struggle you make.”




Sunshine poured in the barred window and indicated midday. My birthday was already half over.

Trudy sat on the edge of the tiny bed, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wild. “My lady, we have to do something.”

I paced back and forth. “What can we do?” I’d gone over all my options too many times to count. There was no way around it. I would have to fight if I hoped to set us free.

It would be dangerous, but throughout the past sleepless night, I’d realized that I had to show my strength as a leader. Maybe I was late in doing so. Maybe that’s why the abbot thought he could still make decisions for me.

But I had to show him once and for all that his behavior, his control over me, was completely unacceptable, that I wouldn’t tolerate it.

The door rattled, and Trudy rose from the bed, her wide eyes frantically sweeping our narrow room. “This isn’t right. I won’t stand back and let them do this to you, my lady,” she whispered fiercely.

The abbot had sent news with our morning meal that I would be taking my vows at the ringing of the afternoon bells. And now they were coming to get me.

Trudy strode to the chamber pot and picked it up. “I only want you to be happy, my lady. And I can see that’s not going to happen unless you’re with your knight.”

The lock squeaked.

“I’ll distract them.” Trudy planted herself in front of the door, her feet wide, the pot drawn back. “And you run and get help.”

“I can’t leave you here,” I whispered.

The door started to open.

Trudy pursed her lips and drew her shoulders back. “Don’t worry about me, my lady. I can fend for myself.”

As the door swung open and revealed the armed guard waiting to deliver us to the chapel, Trudy swung the contents of the chamber pot forward so that the sour mess fell directly upon the face of the guard.

He stumbled and cried out, dropping a once-white robe to the floor.

“Run, my lady,” Trudy screamed, tossing the chamber pot itself against the guard and knocking him in the head.

Even though I didn’t want to leave my nursemaid behind, I bolted forward past the confused guard, out the door, and down the hallway. My footsteps echoed in the barren hallway. And my heartbeat slammed into my ribs.