The Princess Spy (24 page)

Margaretha’s captor held her by one arm, his fingers biting into her muscle. But her other arm was free. While their apparent leader, the one holding Colin’s dagger, glanced back over his shoulder at his comrades, Margaretha stomped the arch of her captor’s foot as hard as she could. He loosened his hold on her arm and howled. Almost simultaneously, she struck the leader’s hand with her fist and knocked the dagger to the ground. She snatched it up, as her captor had released her and yelped in pain.

She held the dagger out in front of her, pointed at the leader’s chest. “Now let go of my friend and get out of here, you despicable excuse for a human.”

The five men stared at her, open-mouthed and silent.

The leader whistled, then grinned. “A feisty one. We underestimated you.”

Margaretha’s fury drained away her energy, and her hands began to shake. “That’s right. Now let go of my friend and we will allow you to leave.”

He laughed, the hateful sound growing louder and louder. The other men joined in. “You underestimate me as well.” He drew a dagger of his own from his belt, a dagger that was longer, and noticeably sharper, than hers. “Now throw your knife down or I will cut your friend into little bits.” He stepped toward Colin.

“No, stop!” Her chest clenched painfully at the thought of him cutting Colin.

“Then put down your knife.”

“How do I know you won’t hurt him, or me?”

“You don’t know, but if you don’t throw down the knife, you can be sure that I will.”

“You’re evil.” Margaretha threw down the dagger.

He stepped forward and picked it up. “Not as evil as some. All I want is your money, your horses, and all your possessions. I will let you keep your lives.” His grin once more revealed the gap between his teeth.

He motioned to the man who had originally been holding Margaretha, and that man came toward her.

She stared him in the eye and said as menacingly as possible, “If you touch me again, I shall make you rue it.” Her blood still boiled, especially at the prospect of them finding and taking her money. At least she had left her bracelet at home. And the horses! If they dared to take their horses . . . how would she and Colin ever make it to Marienberg?

The man halted, uncertainty in his eyes. His leader snarled at him. “Get her. Now.”

What good would it do to struggle? Colin was still being held by the three men, and the leader held their only weapon. The man grasped her wrists and held them behind her back.

The leader walked back to Colin and felt all over him. “Your friend doesn’t have any money on him. Where is yours?” He turned to Margaretha.

The man holding her pushed her forward and forced her to walk toward him.

“We don’t have any money.”
Father God
,
please forgive me for lying.

He curled his lip at her, then snapped his fingers. “Dog Face, go check their horses and bags.”

One of the men, a particularly ugly one, moved toward their horses, which had shied several feet away. He only had a little trouble catching them, then he started untying the bundles behind their saddles.

Colin was still being held by two men. If Margaretha could read the look in his eyes, he was calculating how to get away from them.

The leader crossed his arms, still holding the long dagger, and stroked his scraggly beard with his other hand. “If I had to guess, I’d daresay the girl has the money on her person.”

The men holding Colin called out places where they thought she might hide it, so crude and lewd in their speech that Margaretha’s face went hot.

“You are all disgusting, vile, and demon possessed to speak that way about me.”

They chuckled at her protest. No doubt they saw her as weak and helpless. She should again break free from the man holding her, just to show them she could.

The leader moved quite close to her, until he was only inches away. He wasn’t much taller than she was, and he leaned almost nose to nose with her.

“Tell me where your money is and I won’t hurt your friend.”

“You will get nothing from me.”

“Oh no?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her violently, causing her head to snap back and forth. The money in her sleeve rattled.

He stopped shaking her. “I do believe I heard something.” His thin lips curled into a smile.

He grabbed her left arm. Her captor let go and the leader stuck his hand up her sleeve. His fingers touched her bare skin and made her shudder in disgust. He found her purse and drew it out. He held it up with a shout.

“What do you think, boys? Shall we go to the inn tonight and feast?”

They all let out a whoop.

Margaretha’s chest turned inside out as she stared at her purse, all of their money, in the hands of these dirty thieves.

They searched the bundles on the backs of their horses and found their food and blankets. Once they had examined everything, their leader told them to pack it all back up.

“Shouldn’t we take the girl’s dress too?” one of the men asked. “It would fetch a good price at the market.”

“Why not?” the leader replied with his usual grin. “She won’t be attending any balls at Hagenheim Castle any time soon.”

They all turned lecherous eyes on her, every one of the men staring at her. Margaretha instinctively raised her fists as she felt all the blood drain from her face.

The dirty robbers let go of both Margaretha and Colin, but there was nothing he could do. He had no weapon, and the world had been spinning around and around ever since they’d kicked him in the head. Still, he was prepared to die protecting Margaretha.

His worst nightmare was happening all over again. Someone he cared about was under his protection, but he couldn’t keep her safe.

The men were all looking at her. They started to step toward her, and Margaretha’s face went white.

No!
He could not let them hurt her.
God
,
no
,
please.
Colin didn’t know much German, but he knew enough to shout, “
Nein! Hier ist
Lady Margaretha!
Herzog
Wilhelm’s
tochter
!”

The men froze. They muttered and glanced at each other, wondering aloud if she was truly Duke Wilhelm’s daughter. They seemed to be discussing something among themselves. Would they have enough respect for the duke and the fact that this was his daughter, or at least enough fear of what he would do to them, to not harm her? This strategy would backfire if they decided to hold her for ransom. He had sensed the leader at least had a small amount of decency and respect — a very small amount. Besides, they couldn’t hope to escape from Duke Wilhelm’s wrath if they hurt his daughter.

They couldn’t know that, at the moment, Duke Wilhelm’s own life was in danger from Lord Claybrook.

The leader shouted something, and the other men seemed to be arguing with him. The leader shouted again. The others mumbled discontentedly and looked downcast. Then he shouted, “
Laßt uns gehen!
” at them, and they turned to go. They had already tied his gelding and Margaretha’s mare to their horses, and soon they were galloping off down the road with all Margaretha’s money, their horses — Lord Rupert’s horses he and Margaretha had stolen from him — and their food and few possessions they had purchased.

Margaretha stood there, looking bereft but unharmed.

Thank you
,
God.
Colin felt himself leaning precariously to the right. The sun was finally coming up — but unfortunately, the world for him was quickly going dark.

Chapter
23

Margaretha ran to where Colin had slumped
to the ground and fell to her knees beside him. “Colin! Can you hear me? Please wake up!” She pushed him onto his back. His head was still bleeding, the blood matting up in his thick hair, and his skin was pale.

A sob burst from her. Tears dripped onto Colin’s chest as she clutched his arms. “Don’t leave me, please!” She sobbed even harder.

She had to stop this. She couldn’t cry, not now when Colin needed her to think and to be strong and help him.

Wiping her face on her sleeve, she blinked the useless tears away. She leaned down and placed her ear against his chest. After a moment, “I hear it! His heart is beating.” She touched his face. “You will not die, Colin. God will not let you die.” She wasn’t sure what prompted her to say that, but it felt good.

She needed to get some water to revive him and to wash the blood from his face. But she had no cloth and no water flask, as the thieves had taken everything.

The stream was not too far off, just beyond the road. She scrambled to her feet and headed toward it. As she ran across the packed dirt of the rutted road, the sun, which was just coming up, glinted off something lying on the road. She stopped to look at it. Colin’s dagger. The pale light from the east was glinting off the blade. The men must have dropped it when they’d left.

She bent and snatched it up, then ran to the stream.

The dagger had given her an idea. She washed it off, then used it to cut a large piece of fabric from her white chemise. She dunked it in the cold water, then ran back to Colin carrying the dripping cloth.

She sank to her knees beside him and dabbed the wet cloth on the inside of Colin’s wrists, as she had once seen Frau Lena do to someone who had fainted. Next, she held the cloth over the cut on Colin’s head and squeezed out the water into his hair. Then she wiped his forehead and his face, where the blood was already starting to dry. She dabbed at the blood on his poor swollen lip as well.

He turned his head slightly and moaned.

He was alive. She continued touching the cold wet cloth to his face, which seemed to be reviving him. “Colin? Can you hear me?”

He opened his eyes only a crack. “Lady Margaretha. You aren’t hurt.”

“No, of course not. But you are. Where is your pain?”

“Everywhere. Mostly my head.” She touched the cold cloth to his forehead, and he put his hand over hers, holding the cloth there. “That feels good.” His eyes were closed again. “What happened? I can’t remember.”

Oh no. After thinking he was mad before, would he have gone mad this time, from all the blows to the head? He had said her name, so he at least remembered her. Perhaps if she explained it to him, he would remember.

“We were on our way to Marienberg to get help. Some evil men were blocking the road. They beat and kicked you and reopened the wound on your head. And I am so angry at them.” Margaretha couldn’t talk anymore, as tears choked off her voice. How dare those men hurt Colin?

She had to block those thoughts or she would succumb to the angry tears that were damming up her eyes.

“Thank God they didn’t kill you.” But that was no good, either. Tears flooded her eyes again at how grateful she was that he was still alive.

“Don’t cry,” he said, and lifted his hand to her cheek. He brushed his fingers over her face.

His touch seemed to startle the tears away. “I’m sorry. I won’t.” She stared down into his eyes. What was this strange feeling that squeezed her heart and made it hard to breathe, frightening and exhilarating at the same time? But she must think logically. This was no time for foolishness. She went back to work wiping the blood from his face.

Colin was looking at her with a slight frown, a troubled crease between his eyes. Then he turned his head to look at his surroundings. “I don’t remember anything after we got away from the castle. It was night and there were some men in red livery . . . Claybrook’s men.”

“That’s right. That was last night. Then this morning we got up about an hour ago and started riding. We came upon those horrible men who stole our horses.” And our food, and our money, and our blankets. But she didn’t want to overwhelm him.

“Where did you say we were going?” He squinted up at her, as though the light was painful.

“To Marienberg, to get help from the duke, who is my cousin.”

“Why were we getting help?” He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow.

“Oh dear. Colin, don’t you remember?”

“I . . . I remember I came here to fetch Claybrook back to England.”

“Yes, but that was weeks ago.”

“And I remember I was trying to get to Hagenheim with my friend John, and Claybrook’s men murdered him and nearly killed me. When I woke up in Hagenheim Castle, you were there, and I found out Claybrook was at the castle.”