The Princess Spy

Anne scurried across the floor and bumped into Margaretha’s side. “You’re not going without me.” She grasped Margaretha’s arm with both hands.

 

“You’re not going anywhere,” the guard said in a heavy English accent. Then, abandoning his German, he said in English, “You are fortunate Lord Claybrook doesn’t tie you up and gag you.”

 

Margaretha opened her mouth to reply, then decided she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of speaking to him in his native language. She retorted in German, “How disrespectful, daring to speak a foreign tongue in my presence. I will have you know, I am a duke’s daughter, and I am not accustomed to this sort of treatment. Your Lord Claybrook will be sorry he didn’t stay in England when my father, Duke Wilhelm, is finished with him.”

 

The guard said nothing, only stared back.

 

Ranting at Claybrook’s guards was not likely to bring about any positive effect. She had to think of a clever plan, some way of escape.

 

“What will you do to get me out of here, Margaretha?” Anne’s breath in her ear made her draw away, but not far, as Anne still clutched Margaretha’s arm. “Since he’s your suitor, I’m holding you responsible.”

 

“What happened to you thinking he likes you?”

 

“I am not amused, Margaretha. I want to go home.”

 

If only Anne could go home.

 

“You can’t keep us in this room all day,” Margaretha said to the guard, “without allowing us to go to the garderobe. I drank a lot of water this morning and nature waits for no man — or woman.”

 

“When Lord Claybrook returns, you may ask him.”

 

Margaretha crossed her arms, but with Anne hanging on to her, it was a little difficult. “If he doesn’t return soon, you’ll have to take us with you to look for him.”

 

He raised his eyebrows just enough to let her know that he was not agreeing to anything.

 

“I am not accustomed to being treated in such a manner.” She was afraid she didn’t sound very intimidating, but she had to try. “And where are my brothers and Gisela?”

 

He did not answer her.

 

“If you or any of Claybrook’s other henchmen dare to hurt them, Duke Wilhelm will make you all regret you were born, and regret you left your little island across the sea.”

 

She walked over to the windows facing the courtyard with Anne still hanging on to her arm. The blacksmith in his courtyard smithy was pounding something with his hammer. A kitchen maid was fetching water from the courtyard well. People were going about their daily tasks, unaware that everything was about to change — that a mad Lord Claybrook, with the help of his uncle, was about to take over the castle and the town and subject everyone to his will.

 

God, please let there be no fighting and no one killed. But it was a strange request. After all, when her father came back, of course there would be fighting. The thought of any of the Hagenheim people being killed, whether they be guards, knights, or innocent townspeople, made her knees weak.

 

And the first person to die in this conflict would be Colin, if Margaretha couldn’t help him escape.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter

 

14

 

 

 

The guard shoved Colin roughly toward some steps that he could only assume led down to the dungeon. The guard held his hands behind his back. He stumbled and slipped and nearly fell more than once, only to be yanked up by the guard.

 

A voice called in German from below, down the dark stairs in front of them.

 

A man came into view, obviously the gaoler, as a ring of keys hung from the leather strap around his wrist. He stood in a pool of light below a torch that was affixed to the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He stared back at them from beneath wiry white eyebrows, his stooped shoulders causing him to crane his neck.

 

The guard who was crushing Colin’s wrists said something in a gruff voice.

 

The gaoler’s keys rattled. He mentioned Duke Wilhelm amid all the German words. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, as though he didn’t trust what the guards were saying to him. No doubt he wasn’t used to taking orders from foreign guards.

 

While Claybrook’s guard and the gaoler were talking, Colin looked around, hoping for a chance to escape. He didn’t see any other prisoners, and a few steps farther down, arm and leg irons were attached to the wall. The floor was bare and a little damp, but there were no loose keys lying around or doorways of escape that he could see.

 

The gaoler and the guard appeared to be arguing, but the only thing he could make out was “Duke Wilhelm.”

 

How could he take advantage of this situation? He couldn’t speak their language and the gaoler couldn’t speak his.

 

The priest! Hadn’t he translated for him with Frau Lena? Perhaps he could beg for his assistance again and then gain his help in escaping. He suddenly remembered the German word for “priest.”

 

“Priester!”

 

The gaoler barely glanced in Colin’s direction. He would have to get his attention some other way.

 

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