“Isabella,” Merrick called. “You must continue on.” His tone was firm. It brooked no argument, and she knew he could sense her terror.
She glanced up at him, and he extended his hand out to her.
“Just a few more feet,” he said. “I’ll pull you up. Just grab my hand.”
It may as well have been a mile from her. Even as close as she realized his hand was, getting to it seemed impossible. Her feet felt as though they were encased in bricks. She was afraid to let go of the rocks she clung to because her palms were so damp.
“Isabella, you must move,” he said in a firmer voice. “Do you want the bastards who killed your family to find you here? Make it so easy for them to kill you? Or perhaps you want to do the job for them.”
A surge of anger shook her, and she pulled her foot up to find another rock to boost herself up with. His hand loomed closer, and she ground her teeth together in abject concentration as she reached out for it.
One more step. Just one more step. Her foot slipped and she grabbed hold of the rocks and hoisted herself up again, reaching with her feet for a hold of any kind. Then her hand touched his. He made a grab for it and missed. She flexed her fingers and stretched them out as far as she could.
His strong hand curled around her wrist, and he pulled her effortlessly up to him. She collapsed on the ground at the top, her heart pounding with the force of a hundred horses’ hooves.
She gulped in deep breaths of air and sought to steady her nerves.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice just shaky enough for her to realize how frightened for her he had been. “Did you hurt yourself?”
She shook her head and slowly got up to stand beside him. “Thank you.”
“Where do we go now?” he asked taking her hand in his.
She looked around but could make out nothing in the darkness. “If the captain was correct in his calculations, we are just a few miles from the monastery. But I am unsure as to whether we should head north or south.”
Even as she cursed the darkness, she knew it was their salvation. “Perhaps we should wait until dawn before we set out. Find a safe place to hide. I would hate to lead us in the wrong direction.”
“All right. Let’s head east,” he said, nodding in that direction. “We’ll find a place to hide and wait it out until dawn.”
As they plodded forward, a thrill settled into her stomach and bubbled around like a net full of butterflies. She was home. She felt the silly urge to kneel on the ground and run her hands through Leaudorian soil. In the months following her family’s deaths, she had gained a new appreciation for her homeland. And a deep-seated commitment to setting to rights the disaster that had befallen it.
They found a large hollow tree and huddled against the base, waiting for dawn. After thirty minutes, the eastern sky started to lighten. Isabella studied their surroundings in the dim light, searching for any familiar landmarks. She turned north and scanned the horizon for the signature mountain range that shadowed the monastery.
A twinge of pride swelled her chest as she caught sight of the peaks jutting upward into the sky. They were truly an awesome sight.
She then turned south and held her breath as the first rays of sun struck Soleil Mountain. Tears stung her eyes even as she smiled. Though she couldn’t see it from this distance, she knew the palace sat nestled atop the mountain overlooking the village of Bourgis, the most populous town of Leaudor.
Merrick’s hand on her arm broke her reverie and galvanized her to action. “We head north,” she said firmly. “The monastery isn’t far. We should be there in less than an hour.”
Chapter Nineteen
As they topped a grassy hill, the monastery loomed in the distance. Isabella stopped and pointed. “There it is.”
Simon paused alongside her and took in the impressive structure. No, not impressive, awe-inspiring.
The huge stone building stood against granite cliffs. Indeed it appeared as if it had been built right into them. It was unlike any structure he had ever seen. Certainly nothing like the English abbeys or monasteries. For that matter, he was fairly certain it didn’t resemble anything French either.
As if sensing his awe, she smiled. “We have many influences here in Leaudor. And not just French or English. Many of our monks travel from the east to live and serve here. They practice their religion, our national religion.”
“You don’t practice Christianity?” he asked in surprise.
A twinkle lit her eye. “Aghast to learn we are a bunch of heathens?”
“I find it fascinating,” he replied. “I’ve long been interested in the east. When I retire from service, I fully intend to travel to China.”
There was a long pause, and Isabella knew he was thinking of the other less desirable duties that awaited his retirement.
“You see why we aren’t taken very seriously among England’s allies,” she said dryly. “We are merely infidels. But it has allowed us to live in peace and harmony for many centuries, unbothered by the chaos that exists around us.”
