The Princess Spy

In awe of the secret passageway, Colin almost whistled when Lady Margaretha pushed on a stone and the wall opened up before her. He had to figure out how they did this before going back home to England.

 

Anne poked his shoulder, hard. Then she conveyed, through a mixture of crude hand signals and a little broken English, that she wanted his torch, so he passed it back to her. Now he followed close behind Lady Margaretha as they entered the tunnel.

 

He only hoped Anne didn’t set his hair or clothing on fire.

 

A loamy smell of damp earth met his nose, but it was better than the stink of the dungeon. He put his hand on the wall. Apparently it was made of packed earth, except that, a few feet farther on, a wooden pillar held up some wooden fortifications of the ceiling.

 

Lady Margaretha was explaining, “The tunnel is not long, but we should hurry so that our torches don’t choke us with their smoke, since there’s nowhere for the smoke to go.”

 

He glanced behind to make sure both young women were still there. They wore looks of relative horror, but they were staying close. Margaretha glanced back at him, and her expression was the opposite — smiling, with a glint of triumph in her eye.

 

They continued on. A soft rustling sound seemed to be coming from just ahead. Margaretha stopped abruptly, and Colin nearly bumped into her back. A rat ran across their path, squeaking in apparent alarm, its eyes glowing in the torchlight. It skittered past, along the wall behind them. Anne screamed, then Britta joined her.

 

“Shh!” Margaretha warned them.

 

“You shh! I’ve never been subjected to such filth or ill treatment.” Anne huffed. Her voice turned whiney as she said, “Can this day get any worse? Why did I ever think coming to visit you was a good idea?”

 

They had walked but a few more steps when he heard what he thought was a tiny chirping sound, so faint he might be imagining it. Then he caught a glimpse of something as it darted silently by his head. Colin ducked.

 

“A bat!” Anne screamed again.

 

Margaretha suddenly plastered herself against his chest, burying her face in his shoulder and clinging to him with one hand, while she held the torch in her other hand away from them.

 

He wrapped his arm around her, to protect her.

 

The bat hovered above them, and Colin felt a tiny breath of air on his face from the creature’s wings. Then it flew away.

 

“Is it gone?” Margaretha asked, and he felt her shudder. “I’m sorry.” She pulled away from him, but he let his hand linger on her back. “Rats don’t bother me, but I’m frightened to death of bats.” She turned away from him and started forward again. “I think he’s gone. Let us go.”

 

He almost wished the bat would come back. He liked the way she had felt against his chest. Had it only been his protective instinct that had caused his arm to tighten around her?

 

Anne made a sound that was a cross between a groan and a sob, but she continued walking behind them. She probably had not witnessed Margaretha’s momentary panic at seeing the bat, it was so dark and narrow in the tunnel, and Colin had been blocking her view.

 

They went around a bend in the tunnel, and Margaretha seemed to slow and pick her way carefully. He soon saw why. A snake skeleton lay in the middle of the path. “Watch your step,” she said.

 

He stepped over it, then heard behind him, “Ach! I hate this place. What next?”

 

It seemed as if they had walked quite a long way when he saw a tiny glimmer of light ahead and some wooden steps leading up to . . . the ceiling?

 

“We are here.” Cheerfulness pulsed through Margaretha’s voice. “There is a door at the top of these steps. We will have to push hard to get it open.”

 

Colin took her torch from her and handed it back to Britta. He and Margaretha climbed the steps. Standing with their shoulders braced against the door, they stood so close that he could feel her breath against his cheek. But he tried not to dwell on it and joined Margaretha in pushing with their shoulders. The wooden door above them began to move, causing dirt and debris to rain down around them. They continued pushing, and soon the midday sun flooded the dark tunnel. When there was a half-foot crack, Colin said, “Wait a moment,” and looked out.

 

They were surrounded by grass, and straight ahead was a beech tree forest. To the left and right it appeared that they were at the edge of the meadow that bordered the wall around the south side of the castle, and just beyond the meadow was the forest. But most importantly, he didn’t see any of Claybrook’s soldiers.

 

He nodded at Margaretha and the two of them continued to push the heavy door the rest of the way open. In doing so, they displaced what seemed to be hundreds of leaves, dead grass, and a few insects.

 

They were out! Now to get out of the open before someone saw them.

 

Then he saw something — or someone — moving in the shade of the trees. It might already be too late.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter

 

16

 

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