“But if there is only one, or even two guards, I am sure you and I can defeat that many.”
“If there are only one or two, or even three, and if they do not see us . . . I will consider the attempt. But remember, Margaretha.” He stepped even closer to her, touching her shoulder to make her listen. “We must escape in order to get help for everyone, including your father. We must escape.” He emphasized the words.
“I know you are right. Thank you for at least considering the attempt. Perhaps God will make a way.”
“But before we go to find your family . . .” He looked at the two other people around them. The maid’s eyes were wide in her pale face as she huddled against the wall, looking on. Margaretha’s cousin stood with her hands in fists drawn up to her nose, as if to stifle the smell of the dank dungeon. “We have to make a plan of how to escape the castle.”
“Oh, that is easy.” Her eyes brightened again. “Here in the dungeon there is a secret tunnel.”
“In the dungeon?”
“Another entrance to the tunnel is hidden in the castle yard, but it is near the castle gate and we couldn’t get there without being seen. Besides, what better place to hide a secret entrance to a tunnel than the dungeon? No one would ever look for it there, and the dungeon prisoners could never find it because they are bound by chains. I think it a most genius idea of my father’s, although the actual tunnel idea was my uncle, Lord Rupert’s.”
“That’s my father,” Anne chirped.
The existence of a secret tunnel that led out of the castle was the best news he’d heard . . . ever.
Footsteps sounded above and the gaoler called in a hushed voice, “Father Anselm.” The priest returned with Margaretha’s purse. She tied it to her belt.
Colin grabbed her hand. “Let us go. Tell the others to stay here. We will try to free your mother and family and return.” Colin started up the steps.
Chapter
15
Margaretha hurriedly translated his words for Anne and Britta as she followed Colin up.
Britta’s face appeared frozen in terror, while Anne looked as if she was biting through a horseshoe, but Margaretha couldn’t worry about them now. As Colin had said, they must escape, and she didn’t want to leave her family behind.
When they reached the top of the dungeon steps, the gaoler said he hadn’t seen any guards. They continued on, with Colin holding her hand behind him. He looked around every corner before moving forward and allowing her to follow.
They started up the castle steps toward the family’s solar. Margaretha’s heart thudded in her ears, making it harder to listen for any trace of a guard’s footfall or voice. She moved her own feet as silently as possible, treading lightly, moving deliberately. Colin’s steps were quieter than a baby’s sigh as he led her up the narrow, steep stairs. The feel of his hand around hers invigorated her. Together, she was certain they could overcome a couple of guards who had less to lose than they did.
They crept slower as voices became audible above them. They were muted, but blessedly feminine. She thought she recognized her mother’s.
Colin strained forward, then jerked back, plastering himself against the wall of the stairwell. His eyes met hers as he placed his finger to his lips.
“Let me — ” Margaretha had begun to say, Let me go up first, but Colin pressed his fingers against her mouth and shook his head.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her ear. “Guards, four feet away.”
His breath caressed her ear. Margaretha tried to ignore the warm shiver that swept through her. She mouthed, “How many?”
He held up four fingers.
“May I see?”
Colin looked reluctant, but he finally nodded. He traded places with her, stepping down while she stepped up, their shoulders brushing in the tight space. He had nice hair, the way it curled so thickly but smoothly over his head and on the back of his neck. She might tell him if she was able to talk. But perhaps it was better he didn’t know she had noticed such a thing.
She carefully stretched forward, peeking around the curve of the staircase. Finally, she saw Claybrook’s guards standing outside the door. Their backs were to her, and she could only see two, so she leaned farther forward and saw the legs of two more.
Even Margaretha wasn’t optimistic enough to believe that the two of them could defeat four trained, heavily armed guards. Perhaps if they enlisted the aid of the gaoler and the priest . . . But she couldn’t imagine Father Anselm doing anything violent, and the gaoler was old and might not even be willing. No, she had to trust that she would be able to get help and come back and save them. Besides, she didn’t think Claybrook would harm her family. He had no reason to kill them, and the king and the rest of the nobility of the land would look quite unfavorably on such a thing.