Page 31 of Always
All coherent thoughts fled and my breath hitched in my chest. She was beautiful. Her thick sable hair cascaded freely over her shoulders and down her back. Thin white ribbons from the flower wreath wound through the curls. Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink, and her eyes were bright. Even in her peasant tunic, she was stunning.
She offered me a tentative smile, and it beckoned me forward, drawing me, making my heart thud hard with all I felt for her. I didn’t want to give her up. I couldn’t. I’d never loved a woman before, but my affection for her already ran deep. I wanted to keep her close, protect her from those searching for her, and die for her if necessary. Somehow, in the short time I’d known her, she’d captured my heart. It belonged to her now and would always.
When I took my place next to her at the altar, the abbess placed our hands together. At the mere contact of her soft small hand inside my callused one, the seriousness of the occasion reverberated down to my soul.
“Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife,” the abbess said. “To live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will.” My vow slipped out without hesitation. “Always.”
Felicia’s eyes rounded at my added declaration.
The abbess asked her the same question, and her answer came just as quickly as mine had. “I will.” She met my gaze. “Always.”
The solemnity in her eyes and her echo of my extra promise stoked a fire inside me, a burning need to pull her close and seal our vows with a kiss. But my willpower was stronger than forged iron, and I kept the proper boundary between us.
The abbess spoke a prayer of blessing over us, and then she pronounced us man and wife. The brief ceremony concluded within minutes, and once again, I wished I had something I could give Felicia to show her my affection.
But the nuns were dispersing, putting into motion our plans of escape. We had this night and perhaps part of tomorrow before Ethelwulf’s knights arrived at St. Cuthbert’s and realized we were no longer there. We had to take advantage of every second of the darkness to get as far as possible.
Thankfully, the abbey had a pair of mules. We agreed that Felicia and I would take one. Sister Katherine would ride out on the other with Princess Constance, and Sister Agnes would use the maze of underground tunnels. In the meantime, two of the other nuns would ride our horses and lead our pursuers on a futile chase, giving us more time to disappear and become lost to Ethelwulf.
Felicia had finally confided to me, Sister Katherine, and Sister Agnes that she’d named the twins Maribel and Emmeline. We’d agreed no one else at St. Cuthbert’s would be privy to those names to ensure the safety of the princesses.
Sister Katherine determined Felicia and I would raise the younger twin, Princess Emmeline, because her dark hair resembled Felicia’s. Anyone who saw the two together would hopefully assume they were mother and daughter.
While the nuns helped Felicia form a sling for the babe so she could carry her securely with hands free, I filled a knapsack with food supplies for us and goat’s milk for the babe but little else. We couldn’t weigh down the mule any further. Whatever provisions we needed, I’d have to fashion from the forest or hope to find in the deserted charcoal burner’s cabin. The nuns gave us a few coins, but I would only use them sparingly in order to minimize our contact with anyone. The fewer people who saw us, the safer we’d remain, especially if Ethelwulf’s trackers discovered our trail.
As we readied to leave, Felicia hugged each of the nuns who’d gathered in the courtyard. Then she kissed Princess Constance and Princess Maribel good-bye. When she turned for my assistance onto the mule, tears streaked her cheeks. She rapidly wiped them away, but more took their place. I gently squeezed her hand as I lifted her, wishing I could do more to comfort her but knowing nothing could truly ease this parting.
I groped for the small velvet pouch the king had entrusted to me. He’d told me to guard it with my life, that the contents would help the princesses one day reclaim the throne. Felicia had shown me the signet ring the nursemaid had given her in Everly and had passed it to Sister Katherine to take with Princess Constance. We’d also already given Sister Agnes one of the rubies from Queen Dierdal’s crown for Princess Maribel.
But I still had this pouch from the king. I’d wondered if the contents likewise needed to be split among the princesses. As I’d packed, I’d felt dishonorable opening the bag and examining what was inside, but I’d done so anyway. I’d been slightly perplexed, even disappointed, to see three large golden keys and not something more valuable.
Granted, the keys were unlike any I’d seen before. The length of a man’s hand, each appeared to be identical, with an oval bow and a long thick shank that ended in a fancy collar and pin. The only difference was that the bits on the ends of the pins contained unique engravings. I’d examined each one carefully, deciding that the little pictures must symbolize something, but I hadn’t been able to figure out what.
No matter how regal looking the keys, I couldn’t fathom how they’d help the princesses reclaim the throne. Nevertheless, I was determined to do as the king asked—to not only save the princesses but also keep the keys safe for them. I certainly couldn’t retain all three. If anything happened to me, I didn’t want to chance them all falling into Ethelwulf’s hands. The best plan for their protection was dividing them among the princesses.
“Sister Katherine.” I approached the nun already on the mule with Princess Constance in front of her. The beautiful little girl was burrowed beneath the nun’s flowing cloak, her solemn eyes hardly visible in the falling shadows of the night. What must the crown princess think now that she had to race for her life again? Did she grasp the significance of her destiny?
I bowed my head to her in servitude and prayed the next time I saw her I’d be able to bend my knee before her as queen.
I handed Sister Katherine one of the keys. “King Francis gave me this key upon his death and charged me with guarding it. I’d like it to go with Princess Constance, to stay with her at her new home for safekeeping.”
Sister Katherine took the key somewhat absently but then stopped short at a closer examination. “How many keys did the king give you?”
“Three,” I said as I gave the third to Sister Agnes, who held Princess Maribel in a sling similar to Felicia’s. With a bright moon overhead in the yet starless night illuminating the sleeping infant, I bowed my head in servitude toward the second princess and prayed God would protect her in the years to come.
“Then it is true.” Sister Katherine turned the key over in her hand reverently.
“What’s true?” I asked.
“The legend of the three keys.”
With a large hood obscuring her face, I couldn’t see Sister Katherine’s expression, but her voice contained an awe that pricked at my conscience. Were the keys more valuable than I’d realized? Should they remain together after all?
“What is the legend?” Felicia asked from atop the mule where she patted Emmeline’s back through the sling. Apparently, Felicia didn’t know anything about the keys either.
“It has been said that the king or queen of this realm was given the sacred duty of being keeper of the keys,” replied Sister Katherine. “But no one has ever seen the keys.”
