But I suspected Pearl blamed herself now for losing Aurora and foiling the plans to confront the queen.
Even so, I understood Mikkel’s caution in not wanting to allow Pearl to go inside the fortress. If she fell into the queen’s clutches as she had previously, our negotiations with the queen would be even more complicated. I knew the pain too well of losing the woman I loved and wouldn’t wish such a fate upon Mikkel.
“Your Highness,” I said with a bow to Pearl, “I vow I shall not leave the lodge without Princess Ruby.”
She stared after Mikkel a moment longer, then nodded at me. “If you make it across the ditch, you must find a way to lower the bridge.”
If I made it across . . . that would be only the beginning of an impossible task, one I was determined to accomplish. Or die trying.
Chapter
23
Aurora
My body ached and my head pounded. But at least the incessant jostling had ceased. I pried my eyes open to discover I was inside some kind of dwelling.
I sagged with relief at being done with the torturous ride. The previous hours of pain in not only my backside but also my wrists and ankles had become so unbearable that I’d wavered in and out of consciousness until, blessedly, all had turned black.
The strong, earthy aroma of cedar hung aloft along with the bold, spicy scent of myrrh. I took a deep breath, letting the herbs comfort and remind me of home, of Aunt Idony and the sweetness of my life. Oh, how sweet and simple life had been.
From the barred opening in the upper portion of the door, scant light filtered in, permitting me to view the cell-like room with a low ceiling and simple whitewashed walls. The chamber was devoid of furnishings save the pallet beneath me and a simple crucifix upon the wall.
Pushing up, I bit back a cry at the agony that rippled through my body, as though I’d been upon the rack and had every joint dislocated. I struggled to my knees, grateful my bindings were finally gone. The blood at my wrists and ankles had dried and now crusted my sleeves and hem. I was free of my gag too and drew in a deep breath of the smoky herbal scents.
Sometime during the days of riding, my hair had worked its way loose from my plait, and it now hung in a tangled disarray, blood from my head wound matting it. My gown was muddy and stained with bits of dried leaves and dirt sticking to the linen.
Where was I?
I made myself sit up farther, trying to bring coherence to my thoughts. But all I could think about was the need for something to quench my thirst. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my throat was parched.
With a fortitude borne from desperation, I pushed myself to my feet. Unsteady and weak, I grabbed on to the wall and pressed against it to brace my body. For several seconds, I breathed deeply and fought away the dizziness that threatened to send me back into the world of oblivion.
I couldn’t go there again. I had to stay awake and determine where I was and how I could get out. Although I’d been praying and hoping Chester would rally knights to rescue me—and perhaps already had been on my trail—I guessed he was no match for the queen’s men. At the very least, they’d had too much of a lead.
Gathering strength, I limped to the door and tried the handle. Of course it was locked. Standing on my toes, I peered through the bars. One knight stood directly outside my chamber and another at the end of the corridor.
At the sight of my face, the closest knight motioned to the other guard, who spun and disappeared down a different hallway.
Perhaps if I could trick this guard into opening the door, I’d be able to push him into the room and lock him inside in my stead. Though I didn’t know how I’d escape beyond that, it was a start. And I needed to do something.
“I would like a drink,” I managed through my parched lips.
He stood stiffly and unmoving, without even the slightest twitch to acknowledge my request. I guessed no amount of pleading would rouse his compassion.
With a sigh, I nearly allowed myself to sink to the floor and wallow in despair. But I held myself erect, even though every bone in my body protested. I wouldn’t