Brigitta’s guards accompanied her as she wandered from the village to Gunther’s encampment. The troops had set up camp in a wide, green valley where they would have access to the water of the nearby stream. She shuddered at the sight of the large mountain that loomed over them. That had to be where Rupert’s mother had fallen to her death.
She motioned to a flat boulder alongside the stream. “I’d like to rest there for a while, if you don’t mind. Please feel free to return without me.”
“We’re supposed to watch you,” one of the guards protested.
“You can see me from the camp,” she replied. “I won’t go anywhere, I promise.”
They bowed their heads and hurried off to the camp where, no doubt, the smell of roasting meat was calling to them.
Brigitta settled on the flat boulder. The shallow stream splashed over rocks as it started its long journey to the Great Western Ocean. Upstream, it flowed through the village, providing it with water. Here, it bisected a meadow, dotted with wildflowers. Across the stream, just beyond the meadow, a forest began and ascended into foothills and the high mountain.
Her gaze wandered up the mountainside and stopped when she spotted a cliff about one-third of the way up. Good goddesses, was that where Rupert’s mother had fallen? It must have broken Rupert’s heart to have to camp so close to the spot where his mother had died.
It was a shame, Brigitta thought, that her sister Luciana wasn’t here. If the ghost of Rupert’s mother still lingered about, Luciana would have been able to talk to her and find out the exact location of the royal seal. But all Brigitta had to go on was the vision she’d seen.
Closing her eyes, she replayed the vision in her mind, searching for any clues that she might have missed.
“Put the basket down by the stream, lad.” A woman’s voice interrupted Brigitta’s thoughts.
She opened her eyes and saw an elderly woman emerging from the forest, accompanied by a young man carrying a basket full of laundry.
“Here, Grandma?” The young man set the basket down on a grassy bank halfway to the village.
“That will be fine, Freddy.” The old woman patted him on the shoulder. “Now be a good boy and play while I work.”
“Yes, Grandma.” The young man took a woolen bag from the basket and hitched the drawstring over his shoulder.
Brigitta narrowed her eyes. This Freddy looked a year or two older than her, yet he was still being treated like a child.
He wandered along the grassy bank, headed in her direction, while the old woman crouched beside the stream and swished a man’s shirt in the water. “Look at me, Grandma!” He picked his way across the stream, balancing on rocks.
The old woman glanced up. “Try not to fall in this time.”
Freddy laughed. “I’ll be careful.” He reached the side where Brigitta sat and waved at her. “Hi! I’m Freddy.”
“I’m Brigitta. How are you?”
“I’m good.” Freddy smiled as he approached. “Do you want to be my friend? Do you like to play ball?” He swung the cloth bag off his shoulder.
“Freddy!” his grandmother called out. “How many times have I told you not to talk to strangers?”
“She’s not a stranger,” Freddy argued. “She’s Brigitta. She wants to play ball with me.”
The old woman lost her grip on the shirt, and it floated downstream. “Freddy, can you catch that?”
“I’ll get it!” Freddy dropped his bag on the ground, then jumped into the stream to chase after the shirt.
“Come here, lass.” The old woman motioned to Brigitta.
As Brigitta drew closer, she suspected the grandmother had released the shirt on purpose. Her suspicion was confirmed when the woman whispered in a low voice.
“You don’t have to play with him if you don’t want to. He means well, but he’s … well…”
“A bit like a child?” Brigitta asked.
The old woman nodded with a wry smile. “That’s a nice way to put it.”
“I got it!” Freddy splashed around in the stream, waving the wet shirt in the air.
“That’s a good lad!” his grandmother called to him, then lowered her voice. “Folk around here aren’t usually that nice to poor Freddy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Brigitta glanced at Freddy. He was a sweet and handsome young man with his golden-brown hair and brown eyes. She narrowed her eyes as an eagle swooped down and landed on a nearby boulder. Was that Brody? It didn’t look quite like his usual style.
“Look, Grandma!” Freddy pointed at the eagle as he climbed up onto the bank. “Shoo!” He flapped the wet shirt in the air, and the eagle took off, then landed at the top of a nearby tree.
“You see the mountain?” his grandmother whispered as she motioned to it. “When he was six years old, he tried to climb it and fell. Hit his head really hard. We were afraid he was going to die, but he pulled through. Then after a few years, we realized he was stuck at the age of six.”
“How old is he now?” Brigitta asked.
“Twenty-two.” The grandmother sighed. “He’s had a hard time of it, poor thing. When he was four, his mother died, falling off the cliff over there. I don’t think he ever fully grasped that she was gone. He seemed to think she was still there, waiting for him. That’s why he tried to climb the mountain.”
A prickle ran down Brigitta’s spine. How many four-year-old boys would have lost a mother on that mountain? Could this Freddy be Rupert’s younger brother, Bjornfrid? He was the right age, and he even looked a bit like Rupert. But then, where did this grandmother come from? Had she adopted Freddy? If he was actually Bjornfrid, did she know?
“Are you from that camp over there?” the old woman asked. “Whose camp is it?”
“King Gunther,” Brigitta replied.
The woman stiffened and a flicker of panic crossed her face before she shuttered her expression. “Freddy, come here. Quick!”
She does know. “The king isn’t here,” Brigitta reassured the woman. “I sent him south on a wild goose chase. He’ll be gone for hours.”
The old woman eyed her suspiciously. “Who are you?”
“A friend.”
“I knew you would be my friend.” Freddy smiled at Brigitta as he joined them. He handed the wet shirt to his grandmother.
“Hey, look!” a boy’s voice yelled.
Brigitta spotted three boys running toward them from the village.
“It’s Freddy!” one of them shouted. “The village idiot!”
The other boys laughed, and Freddy ducked his head, frowning.
Brigitta stiffened with anger. Just as she was about to yell at the young boys, she spotted the look on Freddy’s face, and his pain seemed more urgent than the rudeness of bullies. “Don’t let them hurt you,” she whispered. “Their cruelty speaks badly of them, not you.”
She touched his arm, and a wave of terror and grief struck her so hard, her knees gave out.
“Mama!” The young boy’s scream felt like it had been wrenched from Brigitta’s throat. She saw the world through his eyes and watched in horror as his mother plummeted off the cliff. She struggled along with the boy as he tried to run to his mother, but strong arms held him back.
A woman next to him sobbed. “Our poor queen.”
“She led the soldiers up there on purpose, so they wouldn’t find the boy here,” a man said. He tightened his grip on Freddy’s arms. “We have to hide the prince. If the soldiers find him, they’ll kill him. And his mother will have died in vain.”
“We can take him to our cabin in the woods,” the woman suggested. “We’ll tell everyone he’s our grandson.”
“Mama!” Brigitta twisted on the ground as she felt the young boy trying to escape the man’s grasp.
“Quiet!” the man hissed. “Come with us.” He dragged the boy away.
“My ball!” the boy cried, reaching for a woolen bag on the ground. “Mama said it’s precious. I can never let it go.”
The woman peeked inside. “By the Light, it’s an orb, made of gold.”
“We’ll have to hide it,” the man replied. “Disguise it so no one will ever know.”
“Miss?” The old woman leaned over Brigitta. “What happened to you? Are you all right?”
Brigitta sat up and looked around her. She was back in the meadow with the old woman and Freddy. Her heart filled with joy as she realized what Freddy’s hidden memory meant. He was Rupert’s little brother! How thrilled Rupert would be once he learned that his little brother was still alive.
“Freddy.” She smiled at the young man. “I’m so glad I found you.”
He ducked his head, blushing.
“Oh, Freddy!” One of the three boys called as they approached his woolen bag. “We’re going to get your ball.”
Freddy spun around. “No!”
With a laugh, the boys snatched up his bag and darted across the meadow toward the forest. Freddy ran after them, yelling. Under the shade of a tall tree, one of them upended the bag and let the ball slip out onto the ground.
“No!” Freddy threw himself on the ball. “It’s precious! I can never let it go.”
“Precious!” The boys taunted him, dancing around him.
Brigitta sprinted toward them, her heart aching that poor Freddy was still repeating the words his mother had told him years ago.
“Come on, Half-Brain, let’s play.” One of them kicked Freddy in the ribs.
“Stop it!” Brigitta yelled.
“Who’s going to make us?” the tallest one jeered.
“I am.” Brigitta seized him by the ear and pulled him away. He looked to be about ten years old, so she was still taller and stronger than him.
“Ow! Ow!” The boy squirmed and tried to kick at Brigitta, but she knocked his feet out from under him, and he fell onto his back.
She smiled to herself. Rupert would be impressed by how well she’d learned self-defense from him on board the ship. She glared at the other two boys. “You want to play?”
“My lady!” Her guards dashed toward her from the camp. “Do you need any help?”
“Yes. Please take these boys back to the village and inform the constable that they have been behaving like cruel bullies.”
The boys started to protest, but when they saw how well armed the soldiers were, they went along quietly.
“Are you all right?” Brigitta hunched down beside Freddy.
“I guess so.” He slowly sat up, cradling a brown leather ball in his lap.
Brigitta sat beside him. “May I see your ball?” When Freddy passed it to her, a vision flitted across her mind. She saw his adopted grandmother carefully wrapping the golden orb with more wool, then sewing a layer of brown leather tightly around it.
She hefted it in her hands. “It’s much heavier than it looks.”
The grandmother joined them under the shade of the tall tree. As she settled on the ground, she gave Brigitta a wary look. “Who are you that the king’s soldiers follow your orders?”
“I’m a friend.” Brigitta passed the ball back to Freddy. “Have you heard of the pirate Rupert?”
The old woman snorted. “Everyone’s heard of him.”
Freddy nodded. “He steals gold from the bad king.” He covered his mouth. “I’m not supposed to say he’s bad.”
Brigitta smiled. “You’re right, though. Did you know Rupert is Embraced? He can control the wind.”
Freddy looked confused. “I thought Ulfie could do that.”
“He can.” Brigitta lowered her voice. “Your brother, Ulfrid, is alive. He’s been disguising himself as the pirate Rupert.”
Freddy blinked. “Ulfie?”
The old woman leaned close. “Are you serious, lass?”
“Ulfie’s alive?” Freddy shouted. “Where?”
“Not so loud,” his grandmother hissed, casting a worried look at the camp and then at Brigitta. “If you’re on Ulfrid’s side, why are you traveling with Gunther?”
“I’m trying to help Ulfrid regain the throne. I want to set things right.”
“So you’re a spy?” the old woman asked.
Brigitta smiled. “I suppose you could call me that.”
The woman continued to eye her suspiciously. “I’m not sure we should trust you.”
“I would never do anything to harm Ulfrid. I love him.” Brigitta’s cheeks grew warm. “We … we plan to be married.”
“I love him, too,” Freddy boasted, then his bottom lip protruded. “Why did he stay away from me? I missed him.”
“He doesn’t know you’re here.” Brigitta slanted a grateful look at the old woman. “You did an excellent job of hiding Freddy. Thank you.”
The old woman sighed. “My husband died two years ago. I’ve been so worried about what will happen to the boy if I…” Tears shimmered in her eyes.
Brigitta gave her a hug. Her senses didn’t pick up any secrets, other than Bjornfrid’s identity. “What is your name?”
“Dorina.”
“Thank you for saving Freddy.” Brigitta squeezed Dorina’s hand. “Rupert is going to be so happy to know his brother is alive.” Her eyes burned with tears as she smiled at Freddy. “Will you let me give the royal seal to your brother? It will help him reclaim the throne.”
Freddy frowned at the ball. “Mama said he might come back for it someday.” He offered it to Brigitta.
“Thank you.” She set the ball in her lap. “I’m going to hide this in my tent until I can pass it on to Rupert.” She glanced toward the camp. It was quiet. No one there seemed interested in the three people talking in the shade of a tree. Overhead, the eagle squawked as it left its perch and flew away.
Dorina gave Brigitta a stern look. “If anything bad happens with that seal, I will rain curses upon your head for all eternity.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll hand it personally to Rupert.” She smiled. “I guess I’ll have to learn a new name for him. Can you wait here? I want to send a friend to help you take care of Freddy until Rupert is able to claim the throne. Then you won’t have to worry about anything happening to you.”
“Thank you, lass.” The old woman struggled to stand up, so Freddy pulled her to her feet. “Come along, lad. We’ll finish the laundry while we wait.”
On the way back to the stream, Brigitta slipped the ball back into its woolen bag. Then she hugged Dorina and Freddy and headed back to the camp. There, in her tent, she explained everything to Sister Fallyn. She gave the nun the bag of gold she’d once stolen from Stefan.
“Please look after the prince,” Brigitta told her. “I’ll send Stefan to you as soon as I can.”
Sister Fallyn nodded with tears in her eyes. “Can you imagine what it will be like to see the two princes reunited?”
“I know.” Brigitta grinned. After she gave Rupert the seal, he would win the competition and marry her. Then he would announce his true identity and imprison Gunther. Then Rupert would become king and be reunited with Freddy. “It’s going to happen now, and it will be even better than we had imagined.”
Sister Fallyn quickly packed up her belongings, then gave Brigitta a hug.
“Good luck.” Brigitta walked her outside and pointed out Dorina and Freddy in the distance.
She watched as Sister Fallyn joined them, then waved as the three set off into the forest.
“Brigitta,” a voice whispered to her from behind her tent.
She turned. Rupert. She was tempted to tell him his brother was nearby, but she didn’t want to be seen talking to him. She slipped inside her tent and grabbed the woolen bag containing the hidden seal. Outside, she glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then edged toward the back of her tent.
Rupert smiled at her.
“Where’s your guard?” she asked.
He waved a dismissive hand. “I lost him. Couldn’t find the seal, either.”
With a grin, she handed him the bag. “I told you I was good at finding things. It’s hidden inside the ball.”
His eyes gleamed as he grabbed the bag. “Excellent.”
“Now we can be married soon.” She gave him a wry look. “By the way, I’m still waiting for an official proposal.”
Rupert’s eyes grew heated as his gaze swept over her. “You’ll be mine soon, Princess.” He strode away, carrying the seal.
A trickle of unease slithered down Brigitta’s spine. Wasn’t she already his? Why had Rupert seemed different?
* * *
That evening, Rupert’s guard escorted him to Gunther’s tent. Brigitta was there, standing next to her brother, and from the anxious look in her eyes he suspected something had happened. Had she found the seal?
When her gaze swept down to his empty hands, a flicker of panic crossed her face.
“So, Seven.” Gunther eyed Rupert with his usual smirk. “Didn’t find the seal, did you?”
Before Rupert could answer, Gunther raised his voice. “Mador, get in here.”
Captain Mador strode inside the tent, carrying a woolen bag, and Brigitta gasped. She stepped back, clutching her hands together as her face grew pale.
Was she in trouble? Immediately, Rupert formulated a plan of escape. He would grab her and run for some horses while he obliterated the camp with a tornado.
“Did you find it?” Gunther asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Mador pulled a golden orb from the bag and set it on the king’s desk. “It took a while to cut all the leather away, but the seal is inside, intact.”
“Great! I want to see it.” Gunther stepped behind his desk and twisted the orb apart. He unwrapped the wool to uncover the seal.
Dammit to hell. Rupert’s hands fisted as he watched Gunther handling the seal that had belonged to the Trepurins for four hundred years. Now it would be even harder to wrench the throne from the bastard. And if Mador had won the final quest, then Brigitta was in grave danger.
One look at the horror on her face and Rupert’s anger flared, causing a wind to whistle through the tent.
“Excellent.” Gunther smiled as he stroked the golden dolphin atop the seal. “You have won the final quest, Mador. And the competition. Congratulations.”
The captain bowed his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I wish I could take all the credit, but I have to admit it wasn’t me who found the seal.” He aimed a smirk at Brigitta. “Thank you, Princess, for handing it to me personally.”
Rupert flinched. She’d given the seal to Mador? His heart raced so fast, the room swirled around him. No, no! Brigitta was true to him. She loved him.
He trusted her.
She stumbled back, her face pale and stricken.
With a chuckle, Gunther caught her arm to steady her. “That’s my girl. You pulled through for me. You’re a Grian, after all.”
A Grian. The words echoed in Rupert’s head. Gunther’s sister. Garold’s daughter. Dammit, no! She couldn’t have betrayed him. He’d trusted her.
“We’ll head back to Lourdon Palace in the morning,” Gunther announced. “And there, the wedding will take place. Oh, and the executions, too.” He smiled at Brigitta. “Just like you wanted, my dear. I’ll even throw in a little bonus. I know the top two contestants were supposed to survive, but I feel like changing the rules a bit.”
“Guards!” Gunther yelled for the guards outside to enter, then he aimed a hateful look at Rupert. “You’re going to die with the rest of the losers. Arrest him!”