The Princess Spy

“Colin? Can you hear me?” She kept her voice low, remembering that Claybrook’s men were not too far behind them.

 

He still didn’t move. She stared at his chest. It looked still. “Oh no, please, no.” She scrambled over to him on her hands and knees and laid her ear on his chest, pressing as close as possible. She held her breath and waited. There it was. A swoosh-thump sound against her ear.

 

She kept her ear there. His chest was quite warm. Hadn’t she heard that people went cold if they were dead? No, he was definitely alive, and this was quite pleasant and comfortable — her head lying on his warm chest, listening to his heartbeat. She sighed deeply.

 

“Margaretha?”

 

She righted herself and stared into his bright blue eyes. “I woke up and couldn’t see your chest moving and I got scared and put my ear there to try to see if I could hear your heart beating. And it was. Beating, I mean.”

 

He simply stared at her, a sweet, soft look on his face. He seemed to be staring at her lips.

 

“Of course it was beating. You are alive.” She laughed — a nervous sound. “But I’m talking too much again. How do you feel?” She realized she was leaning over him and moved away.

 

He sat up. “Only a little dizzy. I am well.”

 

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

 

“Some of it seems a bit foggy. I don’t remember why my head hurts, but I remember . . . we were going to Marienberg . . . to get help to defeat Claybrook.”

 

When he said the name Claybrook, his face came alive. “Let us be off.” He stood a little shakily and looked around. “But where are the horses?”

 

“Oh dear. I do believe sleep is bad for your memory.”

 

“Why? No matter. We must be off. You can tell me what happened on the way.”

 

“Let us go, then.”

 

“Where are the horses?”

 

“We don’t have them anymore. Some men lay in wait for us in the road this morning, attacked us, and stole our horses.” Must she explain this to him every time he fainted or fell asleep?

 

“We will have to walk, then. I know you are anxious to get help for your family.”

 

At least he remembered that much. “Are you sure you are able to walk?” He didn’t look very sturdy, and he was still pale.

 

“I am able.” He looked down at her feet. “Since we’re walking, you will need better shoes. Those won’t last long on these roads.”

 

“I thought of that. Perhaps at the next village I can exchange my dress for something less fine and a sturdier pair of shoes.”

 

“Good idea.”

 

They set out, and Margaretha prayed silently, Father God, please help us bring help before it is too late for Father, Valten, and the rest of our family. Losing the horses had set them back several days. It was a harsh blow, a painful setback, but she had to believe that they would still make it to Marienberg and back to Hagenheim in time to save everyone. In her heart, strangely, she felt peace.

 

They had only been walking for a few minutes when the sound of horses’ hooves came from behind them. They leapt off the road and watched from the cover of the trees as Claybrook’s men thundered by.

 

Now that they had lost their horses, Claybrook’s men would reach Marienberg before they did.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter

 

24

 

 

 

Colin did not complain about the pain in his head or how dizzy he felt. And Margaretha did not complain either. Even when the soles of her shoes wore out, she simply wrapped strips of her underdress around her feet.

 

After a few hours, they came to a village and she was able to do what she had proposed to Colin; she exchanged her green silk cotehardie for a brown woolen kirtle and a pair of thicker soled shoes. She also managed to talk the woman into giving them some bread and two bowls of pea and oat pottage, which tasted terrible but filled them up.

 

They walked a few more hours before it became too dark for them to see, then found a place to sleep. The stream never wandered far from the road, which was more important than ever, now that they had no water flasks.

 

Margaretha had been unusually quiet. As they lay down near the fire, she on one side and he on the other, she asked, “How does your head feel? Is it still hurting?”

 

“A little.” It was throbbing, and he was still dizzy, but that was to be expected after being kicked in the head. “I remember everything about this morning, the robbers and their attack. And I think I said some very addlepated things just after it happened. I hope I did not off end you, Lady Margaretha.”

 

“No, of course not.” She didn’t say anything else. The light from the fire was creating shadows on her face, and she looked sad. And why wouldn’t she be? They had been only two days away from Marienberg, but now it would take them at least four more days to walk there. And that was only if they weren’t attacked again by bandits.

 

She turned to her other side. “Ouch!”

 

“What is it?” He sat up.

 

She sat up too and held her hand toward the light of the fire. “I got a thorn in my finger.” She just stared at her hand, and a tear slid down her cheek.

 

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