Page 43 of Beholden
“Start severing the ropes,” I commanded.
Several voices rose in protest.
“Now! Do it now.”
Another arrow soared over my head. Thankfully, Ty and Curly were low enough that it overreached them.
At the vibration of blades against the cords holding the bridge to the posts, I lengthened my stride, skipping slats. “Go, go, go!” I called to Ty and Curly, now only a few steps away.
The bridge wobbled even more erratically as soldiers stepped onto it and chased after us. I wasn’t sure how they’d been able to rally from their beds so swiftly, but I had no doubt they’d been trained for moments like this.
“Saw faster,” I called to the men now that the end was in sight.
As Curly jumped from the bridge onto land, he spun and reached for Ty. At the same moment, a last frantic chop into the rope released its hold from the post. The bridge tilted. Curly held fast to Ty and dragged him the remainder of the distance to safety.
As I slipped and grabbed on to the side to keep from falling, the pressure of the knives and swords hacking into the cord ceased.
“Keep cutting!” I shouted, as the footsteps behind me drew nearer. “Sever it at once.”
The vibration resumed, but only for a moment before the rope snapped. Two slats from the end, I launched myself forward, scrambling for something to grab, something to keep me from falling to my death below.
Even as I slammed into the stone edge, several pairs of hands groped for me, managing to clutch my arms and shoulders. Though the impact against the side of the ravine knocked the breath from my lungs, relief swelled inside, especially as I heard the bridge crack and fall away.
Curly and Ty and others drew me up. As I straightened, hands reached out to clasp me and pat my back. Some of the slaves wept openly with joy. Others whispered prayers of gratefulness.
Amidst the shouts and cries of the soldiers clinging to the bridge, which now dangled from the opposite side, I glanced to the moon and the stars. Dawn was only a few hours away. I had no time to waste if I wanted to reach the palace in time for the ball.
At my side and watching me with undisguised admiration, Curly seemed to be waiting for my next instructions. His men stood behind him, also waiting.
Before I could issue my next instructions, he lowered himself to one knee, and his men followed suit. “My lord.” He bowed his head. “I pledge ye my fealty for as long as I have breath.” His men spoke the same words, solemnly and without hesitation.
In Scania, amongst my own people, I was accustomed to such subservience. But here, at this moment, their devotion brought a swell of strange emotion to my chest. I should send them all on their way to Inglewood Forest, far away from the queen. And yet, if I denied them, I’d dishonor them.
At the very least, I must make clear my plans and the danger involved. “You know that I go to Kensington not only to save Lady Gabriella but also to destroy Grendel once and for all. If I succeed, I shall almost certainly incur the queen’s wrath.”
Curly stood, and the others did likewise. He braced his feet apart, unsheathed his sword, and lifted it. “Together we’ll face whatever befalls us.”
Gratitude swelled within me toward these brave men who could give of themselves so freely even when so much had been taken from them. I withdrew my sword, raised it, and touched it to Curly’s. “May God go with us.”
Chapter
15
Gabriella
The cobbled pathleading up to the palace was noisy and crowded with all the maidens and their caravans arriving. My retinue of servants and knights rode close by, and we only added to the chaos. I didn’t mind that we’d slowed our pace. Now that we were here, my courage and resolve seemed to have slipped away as easily as the warmth of the midsummer day.
Clouds piled up overhead, obscuring the blue sky and threatening rain. The air was laden with a damp chill that permeated the light linen cloak and hood I’d donned before leaving at daybreak. Lord Query had risen at the early hour to accompany me to the royal city. He followed closely behind me, tasked by the duchess to make sure I arrived at the palace on time.
“My lady,” Sir Lucan murmured with a glance toward Lord Query. “It’s not too late to turn back.”
I avoided my loyal knight’s gaze. Once he and the other servants had learned the true reason for my return to Rockland, their happiness had turned to sorrow. Now the pain and frustration in their eyes was too much to bear.
“I must do this, good sir.” I wished I could ease the heartache of these dear servants, or at least make them understand why I had to sacrifice myself.
Sir Lucan didn’t say anything more, and as we wound farther up the stone road, I shifted in my saddle so I could take in the view of the countryside. To the south, the walled city of Kensington spread out in all directions, reaching to the edges of the Foothill Plains. The fields there formed a patchwork of green and gold, the best farmland of Warwick with streams and rivers flowing out of the Gemstone Mountains, providing a natural means of irrigation.
Though I couldn’t see beyond the plains to the south, I knew the land there gave way to the arid Siccum Desert, where very little could live or grow. Aside from the towns and estates built along the foothills and the once-prosperous mining communities, the rest of Warwick’s industry came from the few coastal towns known for fishing.
