Bondmaiden (14 page)

So the two oafs fucked her in silence, gradually reaching a rhythm that suited them both, and even Elfrida held her tongue. In fact it was someone else entirely who broke the silence a few minutes later. ‘Princess!’ Velda called as she came hurrying into the bedchamber, ‘you must…’ She stopped dead at the sight in front of her, but only for a moment. ‘Princess, put on one of your cloaks. Something’s terribly wrong.’

‘Velda,’ Elfrida snapped, ‘how dare—?’

‘There’s no time to argue,’ Velda cut in. ‘Get a cloak, I say. Guard, return to your station immediately. Karl, your place is with your master. Go to him, quickly!’

‘What is it, mistress Velda?’ Gunther asked as he hurriedly straightened his clothing, looking hugely ungainly now all rising passions had been so rudely dampened. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘My chamber overlooks the main gate,’ she said as she helped the princess into a cloak. ‘I heard a cry and looked out. The sentries aren’t at their post, and figures are moving as shadows. I fear our enemies are within the walls.’

‘Saint Ivar preserve us!’ Gunter cried as he hurried out. ‘I must raise the alarm!’

Karl went too, presumably to Prince Baran’s chamber. Velda hustled a bewildered and suddenly rather frightened and pathetic princess out of the room, with Lia tagging along behind.

‘My mother and sister!’ Elfrida exclaimed. ‘What of them?’

‘I woke the queen and warned her,’ Velda said. ‘She ordered me to get you to safety if I could, and said she would warn the king and Magdalena. Hurry, princess!’

They ran to the main stairway and started down, and at that moment a frightful commotion broke out. From above came a loud clanging – Gunther, Lia assumed, sounding the alarm bell on the battlements – whilst from below came the sounds of fighting, the harsh clash of iron on iron, and the fearful sounds of men shouting and screaming in agony and throes of death.

‘Back!’ Velda cried. ‘Back! I fear we are trapped!’

Later, Lia was to wonder what came over her in those terrifying moments, and how she did what she did. She could but conclude that Gunther’s prayer had been heard, and Saint Ivar himself reached down from heaven and touched her. Surely nothing else could explain how she knew exactly where to go and what to do.

‘Follow me!’ she cried, with such force and conviction that the other two trailed after her, putting their trust in a lowly bondmaiden at a time of deadly peril.

Lia led them to the back stairs, the ones used by servants, and down they went with her leading the way. The sounds of fighting were fainter on this side, thankfully, but they went cautiously nonetheless, and they hadn’t gone far when they had a fright, for they heard someone hurrying down after them, heavy boots clumping on the steps; but then they stopped with an anguished wail from above.

‘The king is slain! They’ve murdered our king!’

The words struck Lia like a thunderbolt, shocking and terrible. Elfrida shrieked in distress and Velda put her arms about her and held her tight. ‘Courage, princess,’ she urged. ‘Courage!’

Having delivered the dreadful news the bearer of it went back up, whereas, fearful and staying close together, the three females continued on down. When they reached the kitchen Lia felt safer, though the danger was as great there as elsewhere. There wasn’t a soul in sight, and she presumed Holmann and the others were hiding. She half expected to find them in the dormitory, but when they got there they found it empty too, as was the laundry.

‘Put these on,’ Lia said, grabbing smocks and leather slippers and handing them to the other two. ‘Put everything else in here, even your rings.’ She indicated one of the wooden tubs in which Kerta did the washing, and without a word of protest, almost as though in a trance, they did as she told them. Lia then found a smock and slippers for herself and put them on. ‘Let down your hair,’ she said. ‘Just take out the pins and shake it loose. Leave it untidy, the messier the better.’

She helped Velda while Velda helped Elfrida, and when done they looked like nothing more than common folk, which was exactly the result she was after, and now she could explain her plan to them.

‘You’re servants,’ she whispered hurriedly. ‘You look like servants, now I’ll show you how to move like one.’ She took a few steps, head down, shoulders hunched as if expecting a blow. ‘Look no one in the eye. If anyone speaks to you flinch and shake your head as though you have no mind of your own. And carry something at all times; a pile of laundry, a jug of water, anything. No one pays attention to a servant about her chores. With luck we can pass through the gates and get to the town.’

‘Thank you, Lia, it’s a good plan,’ Velda said, seeming to recover her wits at last.

‘But my mother and sister,’ Elfrida bleated. ‘Baran, too. What will become of them?’

‘Lia is right,’ Velda said. ‘We have to get you to the town, and even out to the countryside if we can. If our soldiers are triumphant we can return with nothing lost. But if the enemy prevails…’

She didn’t finish her sentence for Elfrida sobbed and her eyes filled with tears. Lia could guess the fate of the royal family if the enemy – whoever they were – prevailed.

She found them some water jugs to carry, and the three fugitives made their way out to the ward. There were numerous bodies around, but no one alive of any persuasion. Lia led them across the ward, angling to the left rather than heading directly for the gate. They reached the wall and went cautiously forward, staying in the shadows of the lean-to huts.

‘Wait,’ Velda hissed. ‘Look…’

There were men at the castle gate, lots of men, each wearing a yellow surcoat with a diagonal black band over their mail and plate armour.

‘Osburg,’ Velda groaned. ‘Those are Torkel of Osburg’s colours. May the saints preserve us, and may God protect Attland.’

A small group of folk, a dozen or so of them, shuffled towards the gate, huddling close together for mutual support and comfort. They were dressed as travelling players, and Lia supposed they’d been caught up in the raid by sheer bad luck. One of them, an old man with a long grey beard, spoke to the soldiers with much bowing and wringing of hands, obviously pleading that they be allowed to leave. The soldiers relented finally, though not before the group had been searched and robbed of their valuables. And not all got out, for two females, younger and more comely than the rest, were taken into a hut by half a dozen of the soldiers for reasons that were plain enough.

‘We’ll never get through,’ Velda said in an anguished whisper. ‘Even if these disguises fool them they won’t let us pass. They’ll keep us for their own depraved use, like those two poor souls.’

‘I fear you’re right,’ Lia said grimly, ‘but we’re not finished yet. There’s another way. Come on.’

She led them back away from the gate, staying close to the wall as before. They hadn’t gone far when a man came running out of one of the huts with two Osburg soldiers in close pursuit. Lia and the other two shrank into the shadows and watched in horror as they caught him and clubbed him to the ground, kicking and beating him senseless. From inside the hut came a medley of sounds: a woman screaming, children crying, and men shouting and laughing. The two Osburg men went back in and Lia and her companions, shaking with fear, crept past.

A beacon now burned at the top of the keep, and by the light of its flames they could see yellow and black banners flying there. ‘The castle has fallen,’ Velda said hollowly. ‘All is lost.’

Elfrida sobbed again.

‘Perhaps not all,’ Lia countered. ‘There’s still a chance to get the princess to safety.’

She led them to the postern gate, hoping to find so insignificant an entrance unguarded, but there were men there too. Only two of them, true, but two were more than sufficient to handle three unarmed females.

‘We have to try; it’s our only hope,’ Velda whispered as they crouched in the shadows watching the guards. ‘I’ll distract them. While they’re busy with me you two slip out of the gate and get to the town, where you must hide.’

‘But what will happen to you?’ Lia asked in dismay.

‘If my disguise holds there’s a good chance they’ll keep me for themselves. If it doesn’t, and we have to assume the worst, then they’ll take me to whoever is in charge. When they realise who I am they’ll press me for information about the princess and anything else I know, but I’ll try to hold out as long as I can. When they do realise the two of you have escaped they’ll come after you, so you have to get well away from the castle, and leave the town just as soon as you can find a way to do so. More Osburg men will come, I fear, and nowhere will be safe. Get as far from here as possible. But don’t go home, Lia; that’s the first place they’ll look. If they break me I won’t be able to keep any secrets from them, including Three Elms village.’

‘Where shall we go, then?’ Lia asked plaintively.

‘I don’t know; and I shouldn’t, so I can’t tell them. You’ll have to decide. Try to do what they wouldn’t expect. You’re clever; you’ll think of something.’

Lia didn’t feel clever. She seemed to have used up all her cleverness just getting them this far, and now there wasn’t a single idea in her head.

‘Princess,’ Velda said, ‘you must follow Lia’s lead once you’re out of here. She knows the town and the country beyond as you do not. Do you understand me, Elfrida? Listen to Lia and obey her instructions.’

Elfrida nodded dumbly, her eyes round and afraid. Velda forced a smile and hugged her princess, then turned to Lia once more. ‘Promise me you’ll take care of her,’ she said. ‘Swear it now, by the bones of our sacred Saint Ivar.’

‘I do swear,’ Lia said fervently, crossing herself. ‘By Saint Ivar and the holy virgin, I vow to protect my mistress with my life.’

‘Good luck then,’ Velda whispered. ‘Good luck and Godspeed.’

‘Godspeed,’ Lia echoed.

Velda rose and slipped off her smock. She gave them one final heartrending look, then stepped out of the shadows and ran straight past the men. They jumped as she appeared out of the gloom and raised their weapons, then saw it was a lone woman – and a beautiful, naked one to boot. They gave chase and Velda squealed as though in terror and ran into the nearest hut with the two men close on her heels.

‘Come on, my lady,’ Lia urged, seizing Elfrida’s arm and hauling her up. They scurried to the postern gate, the muffled babbling of Velda promising to do anything the men wanted just so long as they didn’t kill her wrenching at their hearts. Then they were through the gate and over the bridge, running towards the town as fast as they could go, two frightened fugitives in mortal danger.

The hencoop was the same but the hens were gone. Watt, the owner, was lying with his throat cut in his own yard. It wasn’t the first corpse they’d seen during their flight and Lia doubted it would be the last, for there were Osburg men everywhere, many of them drunk, many more carrying loot or dragging along some poor sobbing woman. It was a miracle she and Elfrida had made it this far, scuttling into doorways and side streets whenever they heard soldiers coming, running when it was clear.

Lia looked in the boxes and found three eggs undiscovered by the looters. She picked a splinter from the wall with a fingernail and pierced two of the eggs, giving one to Elfrida.

‘But it’s raw,’ Elfrida complained when Lia showed her how to drink it straight from the shell.

‘It’s good for you, my lady,’ Lia said. ‘We need the nourishment if we’re to keep up our strength.’

Elfrida had tired quickly since fleeing the castle, but since she did no work and rarely left her bedchamber that wasn’t to be wondered at. They shared the third egg, then Lia went out for water and something in which to carry it, leaving her charge in the hencoop. Lia discovered an unbroken stone jug amongst the wrecked remains of Watt’s hut and filled it at a horse trough, then hurried back to the hencoop to find a shivering Elfrida huddled precisely where she’d left her.

‘I don’t like this place,’ the princess moaned. ‘It’s so dirty.’

‘And so must you be, my lady,’ Lia said. ‘We’ll be safer as serfs, and few serfs are as clean as us.’ And to Elfrida’s horror Lia rubbed her hands in the dirt and smeared it all over her mistress’s smock, even managing to transfer some hen droppings in the process.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘the smell will help with the disguise.’ Next she got straw and sprinkled it over Elfrida’s head, tangling it in her hair. When it was done Lia doubted anyone would recognise her, not even the queen herself. ‘I can’t call you “my lady” any more,’ she said. ‘You aren’t a princess now, you’re a serf. What name shall we give you? I know… Ulrike. Uli, for short.’

It was an unfortunate choice, perhaps, for it brought to mind Ulrike the miller’s daughter, strung up between the punishment posts, her face twisted in agony as the ash wand cut deep into her buttocks. Hardly a comforting image, with nerves already frayed to shreds.

Elfrida looked unhappy. ‘Can’t I just be Elfi?’

‘It’s too risky,’ Lia said. ‘It might remind people of Elfrida, and we don’t want that, do we? Besides, Uli is almost the same as Elfi, isn’t it?’

Elfrida shrugged, saying nothing. She slumped down on the plank seat with her head in her hands looking very sorry for herself. Lia ignored her and started to plan their next move, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the yard outside. She grabbed Elfrida and pushed her into a corner, where they hid as best they could behind the grain barrel.

A soldier appeared and began looking in the laying boxes, just as they had done. He was wearing a metal helmet shaped like a bowl and a padded linen coat, and around his waist was a dirty yellow sash. At first he didn’t see them, and Lia prayed he would realise there were no eggs and leave, but he moved along the row and caught sight of them, the barrel being too small to hide them completely.

‘Fuck me!’ he exclaimed, jumping back in surprise. He drew a long dagger and approached cautiously. ‘Come out of there,’ he growled, ‘or I’ll gut you, I swear.’

Lia stood up slowly, picking up a handful of straw as she did so. Elfrida rose too and shuffled close to Lia, whimpering.

‘Get ready to run,’ Lia whispered, then threw the straw and grit in the soldier’s face. ‘Now!’

She dashed for the door, dodging the hand that clutched at her, hearing Elfrida panting right on her heels. Then she was outside, free and clear, and elation filled her. No clumsy oaf like him would catch them now.

‘Lia!’ Elfrida squealed. ‘Lia!’

She stopped and looked back. Elfrida was struggling in the man’s grasp, trying desperately to tear free. He sheathed the dagger and held onto her with both hands.

‘Better one than none,’ he declared, ‘though I’d rather it was your sister. Keep still, vermin, or I’ll give you what for!’

He shook her and Elfrida began to cry, so reluctantly, on legs as heavy as lead, Lia walked back to the coop, remembering her earlier promise to poor Velda. ‘Don’t hurt her,’ she called, the soldier looking up in surprise, as though expecting her to be long gone. ‘I’ll do anything you want if you don’t hurt her,’ Lia said. ‘Anything you want. Just let her go, please.’

‘Let her go so you can bolt like rabbits?’ the man sneered. ‘No, I don’t think I’ll be letting her go. You come here.’

Lia hesitated. All her instincts told her to run, but she couldn’t leave Elfrida. She’d sworn a vow, but even without that she wouldn’t abandon her mistress.

‘Come on,’ the brute said, ‘you can trust me. I’m an archer, not some bastard man-at-arms. We always keep our word.’

Lia took a step towards him, reassured by the fact that he hadn’t hit Elfrida, only shaken her, and had put away his dagger the first chance he got. ‘You won’t kill us?’ she asked fearfully.

‘Kill you?’ the soldier echoed with a sudden, lopsided grin. ‘I’d as soon kill my dear old mother as you two ducklings. I won’t deny I plan on sticking something in you, but it ain’t no dagger, that’s for sure.’