Page 20 of Always
Lance’s fingers flew over the traces as he unhooked them. “They’re moving too fast to be anything but our pursuers.”
He didn’t need to say more. I stood and rapidly situated Maribel in her satchel. Then I took Emmeline from Constance, even though she wasn’t finished feeding the babe, and tucked her into her bag as well.
“You are such a good helper, Connie,” I said as calmly as I could to the princess. I didn’t want to frighten her, but the urgency coursing through me must have tinged my voice, for the girl’s eyes widened and filled with anxiety.
I worked for several minutes, cushioning and securing the babes amidst their blankets. When I finished, I was surprised to see both horses unhitched from the wagon. Lance had condensed our remaining supplies into one sack and slung it over his shoulder.
“We’ll need to leave the wagon behind if we’re to pick up our pace,” he said.If we have any chance of outrunning our pursuers. I could hear what he left unspoken, but I, too, refrained from voicing it. I didn’t want to frighten Constance any further.
Lance hoisted me up onto the bare back of the first mare and made quick work of strapping one of the satchels in front of me.
Then he lifted Constance and the other satchel to his steed and mounted behind them. “I’ll lead, my lady. You must push your horse hard to keep up.”
Without waiting for my response, he kicked his heels into the horse’s flank and spurred it into a gallop. I did likewise. Horsemanship was nothing new to me. Like most noblewomen, I’d learned to ride early in my life, and I could do so with dexterity. Nevertheless, I wasn’t sure how long our mounts could keep such a fast pace without tiring.
As the sun began to wane in the west, I was relieved to realize the clouds in the northeast were not clouds at all, but hills. We were within sight of the eastern Iron Hills, which briefly filled me with renewed hope. However, after the fall of darkness, we had no choice but to slow our mounts, and my hope began to plummet. Under the clear skies, a half moon showed the range gradually rising higher with miles upon miles of open plains between the foothills and us.
The babes had awoken hungry, and we’d stopped to feed them and water the horses. But it hadn’t been long enough to satisfy any of us, particularly the babes. We’d listened to their pitiful wails until they’d fallen into an exhausted slumber.
I wanted to do nothing more than bend my head and sleep too. But without a saddle, I risked falling off. So I forced myself to stay awake, rehearsing all the details I’d learned in my lessons about the history of Mercia from the days long ago when King Ethelwulf’s grandmother, Queen Margery, had attempted to steal Mercia’s throne just as King Ethelwulf was now doing.
Twins ran in the royal family, for Margery had a younger twin sister, Leandra. Rather than choose one of the twins to rule the land, their father, King Alfred the Peacemaker, had divided his kingdom of Bryttania into two smaller realms, Mercia and Warwick. He’d given Mercia to Leandra and Warwick to Margery.
For a while, the twin sisters had each ruled their kingdoms peacefully. Then Leandra had died in childbirth. Even though Leandra’s infant daughter Princess Aurora had lived, Margery had decided that Mercia belonged more to her than to Leandra’s husband and newborn babe.
So began years of Margery attempting to hunt down and kill the Princess Aurora. Eventually, Margery had failed. When Princess Aurora had come of age, she’d taken her place as the ruler of Mercia.
Since that time, Margery’s heirs had never ceased believing Mercia and Warwick should be united again and that their family deserved to control both realms. Now Margery’s grandson, King Ethelwulf, was fulfilling what he believed was his destiny, reuniting the land into the country it had been under the great King Alfred.
But at what cost? And who was to truly profit from such a move? From what I’d heard, King Ethelwulf was as brutal as his grandmother had been. Although Warwick was known for its beautiful gemstones and craftsmanship, the country had been suffering and dying for decades. Nothing good came from Warwick any longer.
Would the darkness spread to Mercia?
By the time dawn lightened the sky, the tall hills towered near us, their craggy peaks majestic above the thick evergreen tree line, especially with the glow of the rising sun behind them.
We’d begun a gradual climb in elevation. I suspected we still had quite a distance to travel before we arrived at St. Cuthbert’s, and I prayed the horses would have the stamina to finish the ride.
“We have to stop soon,” I called to Lance as Emmeline began to fuss again, this time with more vigor.
“We can’t!” Lance shouted. “They’re too close now.”
I glanced over my shoulder, surprised to see that we’d climbed higher than I’d realized. The fertile Eastern Plains spread out in a beautiful coverlet of amber and chestnut and beige. In the distance, on the grassy road we’d just traversed, I could make out the figures of what appeared to be several black horses without riders. A second glance revealed longer legs, narrow muzzles, and sharply pointed ears.
Those weren’t horses.
My heart scurried into my throat and lodged there painfully. They were black wolves, likely from among the wild beasts that roamed freely in the Highlands. Were these wolves chasing us? I’d only heard stories of beast controllers, the Fera Agmen, who had the ability to train wild animals to obey their every command. Rumors regarding the Fera Agmen told of their powers to read animal behavior and communicate with them so effectively they could be persuaded to kill.
Whatever the case, someone had sent the wolves to track us down, and the deadly beasts wouldn’t bring us back to King Ethelwulf alive.
I kicked my mare frantically, but she was lathered with sweat, foaming at the mouth, and couldn’t go faster even if her life depended upon it—which it did.
Chapter
8
Lance
I charged upthe narrow ravine, scanning the rocky banks on either side. “Go ahead of me!” I shouted to Felicia. “And ride into the abandoned mine.”
