He is writhing, wriggling at my feet. I can hear him, his fingers are clawing at my ankle, trying to drag me to the ground also.
I cannot see him. But I know that voice.
Eberhard!
“You!” I am beset by an overwhelming fury at this man who has brought such catastrophe on us all and even now skulks in the earth, seeking to escape whilst the rest of us suffer for his actions. I drag my foot free and aim a kick at him, not entirely in self-defence.
“I’ll fucking kill you, bitch…” Eberhard continues to grope around my feet, trying to secure a decent hold on me. I have the advantage, at least for now, of being the one standing and I manage to extricate myself from his clutches again. This time I take a precautionary step back, out of his reach.
“Bastard. You ran to save your own miserable hide. The princess has surrendered the castle, and herself, to the emperor’s forces while you, you slither in the earth like the worm you are.”
I astonish myself at the difference even a day has made to my attitude. I was as intimidated by Lord Eberhard as everyone else, but no more. Now my overriding reaction to him is contempt. Bitter, scathing contempt.
The impact of my lucky blow is fast dissipating. Eberhard is starting to breathe more easily, and it is only a matter of a few moments now before he gets to his feet and is upon me again. I may not be so fortunate in my retaliation next time. I turn and run, hoping I can keep ahead of him. And that I have chosen the correct direction to make my escape, for in truth I have no idea which way I am facing and whether I am now heading for the exit, or deeper into the tunnel. I can but hope Eberhard is equally confused.
After but a few feet I crash headlong into the tunnel wall. I crunch my forehead into the stone, but I am driven by pure terror and ignore my injury. I scramble along the damp rock face, grabbing at any handhold to retain my balance. I offer up prayers that I might elude Eberhard, and so far the lord appears to be on my side.
I pause, listening. I hear his footsteps, but they are faint. And becoming fainter. He is moving in the opposite direction. I must assume that the snivelling coward has opted to save his own skin rather than chase me. I heave a long sigh of relief, convinced that he will not get far. If Eberhard is able to find his way out into the forest he will be surrounded by the imperial armies. I cannot imagine he will elude them for long, and when he is captured, surely then the truth will emerge and Susanna will be released.
I hope so. Oh, I do hope so. Meanwhile, I have my own pressing concerns to attend to. I re-gather my wits, wait a few moments to allow my heartbeat to slow and my breathing to settle, and then I push forward again.
My progress is slower than before because my head is throbbing and my ribs ache where I took the punch from Eberhard. Heavy bruising I expect, if not a cracked rib or two. I lift my fingers to explore the lump on my forehead and they come away sticky with blood. Far from reassuring the children with my presence among them, I am likely to terrify the poor creatures.
Perhaps I should go back, seek out the duke, and beg his mercy. I should tell him of Eberhard’s flight. Would that be my most constructive course now?
Contemplating my best options I step forward, onto nothing. I stumble, my knees buckling as I desperately try to keep my footing on the slithery clay. It is to no avail, and I fall headlong to the floor of the tunnel, my right ankletwisting under me. I scream as the wrenching pain shoots up my leg. Shocked and stunned I lie still, willing my heart to steady again, and the agony in my ankle to abate even a little. My heart does eventually oblige me, but my ankle has its own ideas and continues to throb, the pain relentless.
I shuffle around onto my bottom and draw up my knees. I pull my cloak around me in a vain attempt to ward off the piercing chill now working its way through to my very bones. I cannot remain here long, I must keep moving, however slowly. I brace my left leg under me and try to push myself up, leaning against the wall. I succeed, after a fashion, and manage to prop myself against the side of the tunnel. From there my progress is a series of awkward hops, and the outcome is inevitable. It is not many yards farther before I am again rolling on the ground, this time with scraped hands to show for my efforts.
Sobbing now, I manage to get to my feet once more, or should that be foot? My progress is almost imperceptible. I am numb with cold, dizzy now from the blow to my head, near paralysed by fear, virtually immobilised by my injured ankle, and my hands are so cold I cannot feel them, let alone the route forward. I am not going to make it to the castle, and with gnawing dread I face the fact that I am too far into the tunnel to be able to make my own way out again. And even if I could, what then? No one is likely to find me in the woods.
I sink to my knees, defeated. With enormous effort I drag myself against the tunnel wall and there I curl up into a tiny ball. This miserable place will be my grave.
Chapter Four
“What the fuck do you mean? Gone? How can she be gone? I told you to take care of her.” I glare at Karl, unable to comprehend that he has let this happen.
“Aye, my lord. You did. You never told me to guard her though. I didn’t think she was a prisoner. In fact, I did ask you…”
“Well, of course she was a fucking prisoner. We just ransacked the bloody castle.”
“You introduced her to me as the next duchess of Richtenholst, my lord. I had assumed this to be a station to which she might aspire with a degree of enthusiasm, not one she would flee from at the first opportunity.”
I stride past him, enraged yet more by Gerhard’s relaxed chuckle at my rear.
“Do not let me detain you, Stefan. I can see you have pressing matters clamouring for your attention. Please offer my compliments to your bride. If you can find her.”
I manage—just—to refrain from suggesting my commander commit a most unsavoury act upon his unsuspecting hunting hound. His compliments indeed. I’ll offer the lovely Lady Natalia my riding crop against her delicate buttocks when I get my hands on the ungrateful wench.
Karl falls into step beside me. He has no trouble keeping up despite my punishing pace as I stalk back in the direction of my now abandoned tent.
“Are you sure she’s gone? Might she just be seeking a private spot to…”
“She is gone, sir. Sliced a hole in the back of the tent and slithered away across the open countryside. I have men following her trail.”
I turn to gape at him. “She had a knife?”
“Aye, my lord. I gave it to her. For her food.”
