Page 23 of Always
“Go, Felicia!” Lance called as though sensing my hesitancy.
I dragged Constance another pace, but at the cracking of more wood at the door, I spun in time to see an additional wolf, this one bigger than the last, climb through the hole. Without faltering, it lunged toward Lance with a feral howl. He swung his flail, and the spiked ball struck the wolf in the side, eliciting a squeal of pain or rage—I knew naught—before bounding up and skulking toward Lance again.
At the same time, the first wolf slinked along the wall and dashed into the doorway of the tunnel. There it halted with head low, pointing its growling muzzle at me and the princesses, clearly intending to keep us from escaping further into the mine.
I shoved Constance and the two satchels behind me and then unsheathed my knife. I had only strapped on the weapon when the head midwife had handed it to me in the queen’s chamber as I’d been preparing to leave Delsworth. I had no training in weaponry and hadn’t even been able to nick the wolf when I’d fought it through the hole in the doorway.
“I’ll distract it!” Lance shouted. “Then you must run!”
Before Lance could put his plan into motion, the first, smaller wolf sprang at me, flying into the air, its golden eyes fixed upon my throat. Though panic flashed through me—especially at the realization that the creature was about to slice me open painfully, perhaps lethally—I straightened my shoulders and braced myself. Better me than the princesses.
In an instant, Lance took in the situation. His desperate eyes met mine.
“No!” He pitched his sword like a javelin. It ripped through the air. The blade pierced the wolf’s chest through its heart and sliced out the other side. Even though life fled from the beast, the weight of it hit me. Its claws shredded my sleeve and tore my flesh. Fire rippled down my arm, and I fought not to scream from the pain.
The other wolf had launched against Lance the moment his attention had turned to me. Even as Lance swung his flail, the beast’s fangs clamped into his calf. The pressure and the yank from the wolf would have swept an ordinary man off his feet. But Lance brought his flail around again, this time directly down onto the creature’s skull. The resulting crack and howl were cut short with a slice across its throat with a short knife I hadn’t known Lance had. Where it had come from, I didn’t know. All I cared about was that the wolf released Lance’s leg and dropped to the ground dead.
Lance stepped over the animal with a decided limp in his leg. He shuffled awkwardly toward the hole in the door, his knife and flail lifted in readiness.
I reached for his sword protruding from the chest of the wolf at my feet. The hilt was cold and heavy in my fingers. I winced as I attempted to wrest it free, feeling the strain against the wounds on my arm, but the weapon was embedded deep and didn’t budge.
Lance peered cautiously out the jagged gap where the wolves had torn through the door.
“Are there more?” I asked.
Before he could answer, a snarling face poked through the hole and snapped at him. With quick reflexes, Lance dodged out of the way while swinging his flail against the wolf’s head. It hit with deadly accuracy, and the wolf squealed in pain before dropping away.
Lance didn’t take his gaze off the opening. “Work my sword free by wiggling it back and forth.”
I bent, placed my foot against the wolf’s chest. Gripping with both hands, I wrestled and tugged until finally the weapon slid upward, one bloody inch at a time.
While doing so, I felt an eerie silence descend. I stopped my struggle to watch Lance. He’d tensed and raised his knife, clearly expecting someone or something to come through the hole.
A happy coo rose from one of the bags and echoed in the cavern. Lance shot me a sharp look, a warning to keep the babe quiet.
I released the sword and hurried to the babes. Dropping to my knees, I peered into the satchel at Emmeline’s face. Her eyes were open, and she’d kicked her legs free from her swaddling. She was squirming, and at the sight of me stopped to stare, her eyes so sweet and trusting.
“You may cease your fight,” came a woman’s voice from outside the door. “I come to you in peace.”
I started to rise, but Lance held out a hand, motioning me to stay where I was.
“My name is Sister Katherine,” the woman said. “I am a nun, and I come to you from St. Cuthbert’s.”
Lance chanced a look through the hole. At the surprise registering upon his face, I rose and crossed to the opening. I glanced through and saw the first dead wolf that Lance had killed, along with three others now lying on the ground. They didn’t appear to be injured but instead were sprawled out as if they’d decided to lie down and take a nap.
A thin, middle-aged woman stood in the midst of the sleeping wolves. Attired in a long gray habit covered with a scapular that blended in with the stones around us, the nun was almost invisible except for her pale face and gray-blue eyes the hue of a mourning dove. Even the coif and veil covering her head matched the rocky background. Only the rosary made of wooden beads and tied to the belt at her waist provided any color.
Lance lowered his weapons, unlocked the door, and then pulled it open, the joints again squealing with disuse. I followed, leaving Constance and the babes inside, not wanting to put them at further risk until I knew more about this woman.
When I stepped outside behind Lance, the bright sunshine blinded me for a moment.
“What brings you to our mountain?” Sister Katherine asked kindly but with an edge that demanded the truth.
“We seek refuge.” Lance’s knuckles were white around his knife, and his eyes took in every detail of our surroundings.
If anyone could help us figure out how to save the royal princesses, surely the nuns of St. Cuthbert’s could.
“You have a little girl with you.” Sister Katherine peered beyond me to the mine shaft. It wasn’t a question but a statement.
