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Maria was lying on the rough stone floor in a damp, cold cell. She was so still that he almost thought she was dead. Then he heard her say something. The same word over and over. At first, he couldn’t make it out, then he recognized it as his own name. He wanted to wake her, to hold her, but he was on one side of the bars, and she was on the other.
Jonathan awoke in the bunk bed that had been made from cloth and planks of wood. The cold, grey daylight was sifted by the light canvas of the tent. He was still in the camp. Still alone. Still trying to raise an army.
He closed his eyes and for a moment he could still see her lying on the floor. Then he remembered how she had looked when she had been lying next to him in bed. Sleeping peacefully. How he would snuggle up next to her and feel her warm body against his. He felt a rush through his stomach like he was falling off a cliff. He never knew it was possible to miss someone so physically.
The loss of Valdemar manifested itself in a feeling of emptiness. He would look at chairs or places and think how Valdemar would be sitting or standing right there next to him if he had been alive. He would imagine what Valdemar’s opinion would be on a topic and was often arguing with him in his head.
Someone cleared their throat outside of the tent.
“Your Majesty, are you awake?” The same person asked. It was Peter Goodwin.
“Yes,” Jonathan cleared his throat too and got out of bed. He would always sleep dressed these days, only taking off his cloak and jacket. If they needed to leave quickly, he would have to mount his horse in whatever he was wearing, and he didn’t wish it to be a shirt only.
“You may enter,” he called out as he put on his boots.
Peter slipped through the entrance to the tent. Jonathan found it amazing how such a tall man could move so smoothly and silently, like a cat. Peter bowed to him, and Jonathan nodded towards the only chair in the tent. He put on his jacket as well and remained seated on the bed as Peter began a detailed description of how the night had been and where their spies believed Lord Helmholdt’s army to be.
Jonathan saw Maria with his inner eye as she had been lying in the prison cell. Why had he not tried to wake her? He hadn’t even called out for her as far as he recalled.
“Your Majesty,” Peter Goodwin looked at him quizzically. Jonathan smiled vaguely at him and tried to pretend that he had been listening. “Should I come back another time?”
Jonathan shook his head.
“No, now is fine,” he said. How was it possible to miss someone and hate them at the same time? How could Maria have done what she did to Valdemar? Surely, she had to know that her brother would kill him if he found out?
“Do you think that I was too harsh on her?” He asked Peter.
Peter looked at him for a moment. Jonathan realized that he had interrupted Peter in something completely different.
“Maria, I mean,” he said to clarify.
“Yes, Your Majesty, I knew who you meant. Sorry that I didn’t answer right away, I was simply thinking of what to say.” Peter cleared his throat again. “Does Your Majesty want me to speak plainly?”
“Of course,” Jonathan said.
“You have,” Peter said shortly and looked him straight in the eye.
“What?” Now Jonathan wasn’t following what he meant.
“You have been too harsh on her. I have known Maria since she was a little girl, we lived under the same roof for three years when she was married to my brother. She would never have jeopardized Valdemar’s life.”
“But she sent the letter to Lord Helmholdt...” Jonathan began.
“The letter didn’t kill the Duke; Lord Helmholdt did. She only meant to warn him, to prevent him from being killed. Even when Lord Helmholdt was aware of the danger, your brother could very well have gotten away with it anyway. Even if the queen hadn’t warned Lord Helmholdt, the Duke of Halland could have been dead anyway. Her letter made little difference in my opinion.”
“But she wrote to our enemy, revealing crucial tactical information,” Jonathan interjected.
“How much did Maria actually know about the Duke’s mission? As far as I’m aware, you didn’t tell her any details about it, did you?”
“No, but...”
“Then how could she have known?”
“Maybe she was spying on me? She has before, you know that,” Jonathan could hear his own arguments grow thinner.
“As I understand it, nothing was written down and it was only you and the Duke who knew of the exact plans. As I see it, she couldn’t have known anything more than the roughest outline of the plan. And honestly it should come as no surprise to Lord Helmholdt that you would try to kill him.”
Peter got up.
“Excuse me for speaking so bluntly, Your Majesty. You asked for my opinion, and I gave it.”
Jonathan nodded absentmindedly, while pondering what Peter had said.
***
Jonathan was being beaten by Lord Rosenkranz. There was no other way to put it. Even though the lord was half a foot taller, this was unacceptable. Jonathan should be a perfect match for the lord. If he performed this horribly on the battlefield, Lord Helmholdt’s men would have no problem getting rid of him.
Lord Rosenkranz thrust him to the ground once again and Jonathan remained laying in the mud, gathering his strength to get up again. Had he been too harsh on Maria? Was there actually such a thing as being too harsh on the person that had killed your brother? But she hadn’t killed him. That much he could grant Peter. Maria had written the letter that had gotten Valdemar killed. But indeed, she hadn’t done the deed. But was it not just as bad?
“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” Lord Rosenkranz asked and leaned over him. Jonathan nodded. Lord Rosenkranz offered him his hand. Jonathan looked at it for a moment. Wouldn’t it look weak if he had to accept help to get up? But then he took the hand.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Do you want to take a break, Your Majesty?” Lord Rosenkranz asked. He was panting a little. At least that was something.
Jonathan shook his head while tightening the leather pad on his left arm.
“Should I... Do you want me take it slower, Your Majesty?”
“No,” Jonathan said, walking towards the other side of the ring they had marked for practicing.
“Do you...” Lord Rosenkranz said.
“No, I want to fight,” Jonathan insisted, annoyed, even though he knew that it wasn’t Lord Rosenkranz that he was annoyed with.
Lord Rosenkranz didn’t say anything more but quickly checked his own pads and faced Jonathan, rolling his shoulders a couple of times before signaling that he was ready.
They danced around each other for a while, trying to find an opening. Jonathan had been practicing this since he was just a boy. He had been practicing with Valdemar. Why wasn’t he here? Why did he have to die? Why had Maria...
Lord Rosenkranz made his first move. He was quick on his feet and his movements made Jonathan think more of a dancer than a fighter. But good soldiers were both, he imagined. Jonathan managed to avoid his blow but was already losing ground. Maybe it had been a bad idea to continue, but he so desperately wanted to think of anything other than Valdemar. Or Maria.
Her face with a bright smile on it appeared before his eyes and he couldn’t help but smile back. Had she ever smiled at him like that? The first month of their marriage she had just looked miserable. They had only enjoyed such a short time together where they had actually been happy.
He needed to focus on the fight. He made a half-hearted attempt to strike Lord Rosenkranz, who avoided it with ease. They circled each other some more. Jonathan could see from the corner of his eye that Peter had showed up and was watching them.
This was all Peter’s fault. If he hadn’t defended Maria this morning... then what? Jonathan didn’t know. He was thinking of Maria all the time anyway. Constantly.
Lord Rosenkranz launched a bold attack on him, and Jonathan had to keep his mind off Maria and anything else for a while. He had to use all of his focus to prevent being struck by the wooden sword that they were using for practice. It was amazing he wasn’t thinking of Maria at all. Not the good parts, not the bad. Nothing. Then Lord Rosenkranz saw an opening and struck him right across the chest, knocking all of the air out of him. Jonathan landed on the ground once again.
“Perhaps it’s time for His Majesty to take a break?” Peter suggested.
Jonathan looked at him sourly from his position on the ground.
“Your Majesty?” Lord Rosenkranz asked, and once again extended a hand to him to help him get up. Jonathan took it without hesitation this time. He patted the man on the shoulder and mumbled:
“I’m glad you’re on our side, Rosenkranz,” before he exited the fighting ring to join Peter. He gestured for him to follow, and they walked towards the pine trees that surrounded the camp. Jonathan wanted to be unseen.
They walked for a while in silence. Jonathan noticed the pine needles covering the ground, there was hardly any snow anymore. A few places winter aconite and snowdrops were even peeking up through the ground. It would be spring soon.
“Your Majesty,” Peter said. “Perhaps I should apologize.”
Jonathan stood still and looked at him, surprised. No, dumbfounded was a better word for it. Peter glanced down at the ground before giving Jonathan a determined look.
“Whatever for?” Jonathan asked.
“This morning. What I said about Maria... the queen. It’s merely – I see her as a sister and honestly, I feel that no one is pleading her case. It pains me to think of her in the dungeon below Lord Helmholdt’s castle.”
Jonathan didn’t answer right away.
“It pains me too,” he said in a low voice and sighed. Peter had given him the opening that he needed. Without knowing it, Jonathan assumed.
They walked a bit further in silence. He thought of Maria in the dungeon and the thought sent shivers down his spine. Then for the first time in a few days, his mind wandered to Anna. She was a hostage too. If anyone had asked him only a week ago, he would have said that she was like a sister to him. But he hadn’t thought of her at all. He had been so preoccupied thinking of Maria. He felt ashamed.
“We have to find a way to get them out,” Jonathan said resolutely.