The Princess Spy

Colin walked beside her. She stayed quite close to him, her arm brushing his once, then a second time, as they made their way back to the little cove in the woods.

 

Once back, they all ate the bread, even Anne, who complained, “This is barley bread! I don’t eat barley bread. It tastes like dirt,” as she tore off another piece.

 

Colin built a fire and carried water in the pot from a nearby stream to cook the eggs that had not been smashed when she’d fallen to her knees and struggled with her attacker.

 

While the eggs cooked, Colin asked Margaretha about what happened at the village. At first she was quiet and barely answered him, but soon she began to tell exactly what had happened, the way the people in the village had looked at her, and what they had said to her. Seeing she was her talkative self again, he relaxed against a tree trunk and stretched out his legs. As long as she was quiet and unsmiling, he worried she might have some hidden injury. Her chatter reassured him that, just as she had not suffered damage from getting thrown from the dangerous black stallion, she had survived her attack unscathed.

 

Thank you, God.

 

 

 

Margaretha was pleased to see Anne eating one of the eggs. As much as she’d complained about the bread, she hadn’t said anything about the egg — although it would have tasted better with a little salt.

 

Margaretha felt better now that her stomach was full. It was good to sit in their quiet, secluded spot in the forest and rest her tired feet. Her shoes were not very sturdy and wouldn’t last long if they had to walk much farther. They needed to find horses, and soon. Her family’s lives depended on it.

 

Margaretha stood. “We should go.”

 

After Colin covered their fire with dirt and poured the water from the pot over the mound, they set out on the south road toward Marienberg.

 

Anne, as soon as they started walking, grinned smugly at Colin, “I know you want to protect me from danger, but I am quite certain my father and his servants can keep me safe from Lord Claybrook’s guards. So, since I know the way and don’t need any help, I am going home.”

 

Colin didn’t acknowledge her words, and Anne’s smile changed to pouting lips and crossed arms.

 

“You should go home,” he announced. “We will escort you there. And I think Lady Margaretha should stay with you too.”

 

“We already talked about this.” Margaretha clenched her fists. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. “I am going with you to Marienberg Castle to get men to fight Claybrook. I will not sit like a frightened little girl at my uncle’s house.”

 

Anne huffed and crossed her arms again.

 

Colin’s jaw looked like it was cut from stone. She plainly read his meaning.

 

“Lady Margaretha, you can trust me to go to Marienberg Castle, get help, and save your family.” He glanced sideways at her as they walked. “This journey will be perilous. Look what has already happened, when you were attacked at that village. I don’t want you to be hurt, and you will be safe at Lord Rupert’s manse.”

 

Heat pricked her face. She knew she had been foolish to show her money and purse to all those people in the village. She had not been on her guard when the man ran up behind her and attacked her, and to Colin she must look like a sheltered, na?ve girl who didn’t know the least thing about taking care of herself. The thought of him having to rescue her suddenly made her furious, mostly at herself.

 

Margaretha couldn’t seem to stop herself from saying, “I will not let anything like that happen again. I will not need you to save me again, and I will not be dropped off like a pile of dirty laundry.”

 

“It isn’t like that at all.” But Colin’s voice did not sound a bit conciliatory; he was not backing down either. “A young, beautiful lady walking around the countryside, unprotected except by a man like me — untrained in warfare — with only a small dagger as a weapon? It is beyond foolish. What kind of person would I be if I allowed it?”

 

“You do not have a choice in the matter! I have a will of my own, and I am not married, and I have no master with a right to tell me what to do.”

 

She had almost allowed his mention of her being “beautiful” to soften her. But she couldn’t allow him to deter her from her purpose. “My family is in danger. I must help them.” She felt the tears well up behind her eyes and was horrified. Now was the absolute worst moment for her to be hit with an urge to cry. She swallowed, forcing the tears back. “You need me to go with you. If we both go, we can help each other, and there is a better chance of getting there. Besides, you simply cannot stop me. I am going, and I will not be deterred.”

 

They were standing in the road, glaring at each other. Anne looked on, frowning in obvious disgust.

 

Margaretha started walking again, as if the argument was over and she had won.

 

Melanie Dickerson's books