“You never told us — where are we going?” Amelie asked, looking at Albert who rode beside her.
“To a cave,” he replied, pointing up ahead. “’Tis located not too far from here.”
Amelie shook her head and said in disbelief, “All I see is dense forest. I never realized that a cave existed this far north of Wykeham.”
The tree growth became thicker even as she spoke, but neither Albert nor Lester seemed deterred.
Alfred led them though deep underbrush before he stopped and waited for everyone to catch up. “Lord Stanbury is up there,” he said, gesturing to a high incline. “We need to leave the horses at the foot of this cliff before we make our climb.” He slipped of his horse and helped her down from her mount. Turning to his friend, he said, “Lester, you take the horses, and meet us in the cave.” Then without waiting for a reply, he beckoned to Amelie. “This way, my lady.”
She caught Albert’s sleeve before he started to move. “You said that my father is all right?” she asked, trying to keep the trepidation out of her voice but failing.
“Aye,” he nodded and looked at her sympathetically. “He was hurt during the skirmish at the inn, but he is recovering well.”
Leading the way, he navigated the rocky area as if he had made the climb many times before. When they finally made it to the top, he moved forward and pushed aside some branches, revealing the mouth of a small cave.
Amelie stepped into the cave, momentarily blinded by the smoke in the enclosed area. The smell of dried herbs and flowers hit her immediately, and she was reminded of the Healer’s cottage. But it only took her a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit shelter and she surveyed the space in wonder.
The cave looked like it was equipped to shelter its inhabitants for an extended period and provide a safe haven from wild predators. Everything that a person required to survive in the forest was here. There were straw mats that lined the walls, each containing various mushrooms, leaves and flowers left to dry. A dozen baskets sat along the other side of the cave wall and were filled with more dried substances.
A pretty girl of about twelve years old looked up from poking at the embers of a small fire pit. Off to her right was the Healer, an older version of the girl. The woman crouched on the ground, stirring a small pot on a makeshift tripod, which sat above the small fire. Going against custom, she wore no wimple. Instead, she allowed her gray streaked hair to flow over her shoulders like a maiden.
“Lady Amelie, what are you doing here?” the Healer gasped, her hand stopped in mid-motion, staring at her as if she was a ghostly figure.
Alfred and Lester emerged and stood beside Amelie. Shifting her eyes, the Healer pinned her gaze on the two men. “You fools!” she exclaimed, comprehension reflecting in her depths. “What have you done?”
“Forgive me, Mistress May,” a stricken look crossed Alfred’s square face. He lifted his shoulders almost to his ears while he put out his palms. “’Twas my fault. I overheard my lady asking about Lord Stanbury and —”
“Of all the impulsive, idiotic people that I have hired to work for me,” the Healer cried. “I gave you permission to go to the wedding. I did not expect you to bring anyone back with you, let alone the daughter of Lord Stanbury! What were you thinking, man?”
Alfred dropped his shoulders and looked at the ground. In a tone that sounded defeated and remorseful, he said, “Lord Stanbury was worried about Lady Amelie — he was afraid that she would come to harm. And when I was at the wedding, my lady showed up.” He glanced quickly at Amelie before lowering his gaze again.
“He said ‘twas a sign from God,” Lester interjected in his friend’s defense, “and I believed him.”
The Healer’s hard, unwavering glare settled on Lester and he cringed.
“Aye,” Alfred nodded looking up from the ground, buoyed up by his friend’s confidence in him. He clasped his hands together and said eagerly, “’Twas truly a sign from God, mistress. This was the reason why I thought to bring my lady here.”
The Healer gave a quick shake of her head. “You and your signs,” she said, letting out an irritated breath. She took the ladle and banged it hard on the pot to release the gruel that stuck to it. “You hare-brained creatures have put everyone in danger by bringing Lady Amelie here.” She looked up at them with narrowed eyes. “I hope that you had enough sense to ensure that no one followed you?”
“We didn’t —”
“As long as there is a threat to the king, danger is ever present,” Derrik said, cutting off Alfred.
“Perhaps I can go outside and see if anyone has followed us,” Lester said, backing out of the cave. “’Tis the least I can do.”
“’Tis much too late for that,” the Healer replied, but Lester had already exited from the cave. Her sharp eyes looked past Amelie. And then raising her gaze up at the cave ceiling, she heaved a heavy sigh. “Sir Derrik,” the Healer said finally. Then bending down, she continued to stir the pot. “You brought Sir Derrik with you too. You might as well as have brought the Lord High Steward here so we can all sit by the fire, and discuss the developments of the king’s overthrow.”
“I am delighted to see you as well, Mistress May,” Derrik said dryly. “Actually I’m quite surprised to find you here so far away from the royal courts.”
“Court life is no longer for me and Gena,” the Healer answered shortly. “I tire of the political environment. But I see no matter how far I move away, politics continue to plague me.”
Amelie looked at both Derrik and the Healer. They knew each other?
“What is this place, Mistress May?” Amelie interposed. “I had gone to see you at your cottage, but you were not there.”
“I often come here around this time to gather mushrooms for my potions. These rare species only grow in this part of the shire. I usually stay here if the mushrooms are especially abundant, or if the weather is poor.”
“’Tis a pleasant place to stay,” she said politely.
“A most convenient shelter,” the Healer agreed, but she frowned at Alfred. “Although very few people should know about it.” Taking the ladle out of the pot, she blew on the steaming gruel before cautiously tasting it.
The small fire illuminated the surrounding area, and Amelie peered into the darkness beyond the fire pit. “I am told that my father is here,” she said. “Where is he?”
Before the Healer could reply, a dry cough came from the middle of the cave. Amelie scanned the area in which the sound emerged. Squinting, she saw an outline of a figure lying on a pallet. Walking slowly over to the prone figure, she hoped that she was not imagining things. She stilled her heart in case she encountered another disappointment.
“Father?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
Another cough sounded. “My daughter,” returned the familiar, smoky voice.
Suddenly all her thoughts and worries fled her mind, and a joyous light filled her heart.
“Father!” she cried. “’Tis you.” She rushed over to him and fell to her knees, burying her face in his chest. “Why did you not make yourself known when I stepped into the cave?”
“I had thought I was dreaming when I heard your voice,” he said weakly.
“Nay, I am here in the flesh,” she said, squeezing her arms around him.
He let out a small grunt. She lifted her head in time to see the grimace on his face diminish.
“You are hurt.”
“Just a little,” he said lightly, although his admission failed to mask the pain that crept in his voice.
“What has happened to you?” She frowned.
“I got into a scuffle —”
“At the Wykeham inn,” Amelie finished for him.
“How do you know this?”
“’Twas the stable boy who told us,” Derrik offered. “He witnessed everything.”
“Ah,” Lord Stanbury said, nodding with understanding. “’Twas at Wykeham that they ambushed me. I was a fool not to be on my guard, but they were lying in wait for me outside the stable.” He paused. “They slashed me in the chest and arms, and I barely managed to escape into the forest. I hid in the underbrush until they exhausted their search for me. And then with my attackers gone, I stumbled along and fell unconscious.” He looked over at the old healer. “That was when Mistress May and her daughter found me.”
The Healer came and brought over a steaming bowl of gruel.
“Lord Stanbury lost a lot of blood,” the older woman confirmed. She dipped a small wooden spoon into the bowl and blew on it. “My lord, you best eat this to build up your strength.”
Her father closed his eyes and reluctantly parted his mouth.
“Will he be all right?” Amelie whispered.
“He will,” the Healer answered. “At this moment, he just needs to recover.”
Amelie watched the interplay with some unease. The joy of finding him faded. It was impossible to conceive that less than a month ago her lord father was strong, vibrant, and revered by hundreds of people. Seeing him now was enough to reduce her to tears, although she knew that it would never come to that. Lord Stanbury didn’t approved of tears. “They are a sign of weakness,” she once overheard him telling a page. And even though that reprimand was not meant for her ears, the words stuck.
“I am no longer hungry,” her father said, pushing the Healer’s hand away as she offered a third spoonful of porridge.
The Healer compressed her lips to show her disapproval, but she withdrew the wooden spoon without comment.
Amelie took in a shaky breath and started to pull away. She didn’t dare lose control of her emotions in front of her father.
“Wait, Amelie.” Lord Stanbury grabbed her sleeve and stopped her from moving out of his reach. Drawing her close again, he placed a large, heavy hand on her head. “I missed you, daughter,” he said, his voice sounding weaker than she had ever heard it.
She searched his face. Did she hear him correctly?
“I feared for you and your mother,” he continued. “And I insisted that a servant be sent to warn you about the threat within the castle walls. But I didn’t want it known that the warning came from me,” he let out a tired sigh. “The last thing I desired was for you, or your mother to seek me out.”
She gently laid a hand on the side of her sire’s face. “Our lives were never threatened, Father. I know ‘twas your own life that was in danger.” She fought back a lump that formed in her throat, feeling a need to tell him that she loved him. But when she opened her mouth to say it, the words that came out were: “I am glad to learn that you are alive, Father.” She dropped her hand and cleared her throat before adding, “The king seems to think that you have initiated a plot to overthrow him. Is this true?”
“Aye, I would like to know this as well, Lord Stanbury,” Derrik said, walking over to the pallet. The light from the fire danced off his flaxen hair. In the half shadow, his face had taken on a serious, severe look, and he seemed even more handsome than she cared to admit. She swallowed. If anything, Derrik looked like the fierce warrior that he was. She glanced away from him in the off-chance that the expression on her face revealed too much.
The silence seemed to stretch on until her father spoke up, “Sir Derrik,” he said, “’Tis good to see you again.”
“You know Sir Derrik?” Amelie asked, her eyebrows lifting. There were so many surprises that she didn’t know what to think anymore. “I thought Sir Derrik was just a king’s representative, a messenger.”
“A messenger?” her father repeated, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving the light-haired knight. “Nay, Sir Derrik is more than just a messenger. He is a diplomat. After the Iron Hawk and his commander, he is also one of the king’s most trusted men.”
Her gaze went briefly to Derrik and then back to her father. “You are speaking about Sir Derrik?” Amelie asked incredulously. “The same knight that is in this cave with us?”
“Aye,” her father nodded, looking a little surprised at her disbelief. “With both the Hawk and his commander retired from the king’s service, Sir Derrik joined the royal guards, and has proven his worth to the king many times over. Even I, in Stanbury, have heard of his extraordinary feats.”
Amelie glanced over at Derrik again, but he only shrugged his shoulders. She frowned slightly at him. Why had he never mentioned his close ties to the king? If he was a well trusted knight, then he would have great influence over the sovereign leader.
“I’m flattered that you remember my history, my lord,” Derrik said with a polite smile. “However you’re likely aware that I’m here to seek the truth.”
Her father sighed. It was a sound heavy with defeat, a sound that Amelie had never, ever heard coming from her father’s lips.
Lord Stanbury closed his eyes as if they were weighed down by iron weights. When he opened them again, he looked over at Derrik. Pushing himself off the ground, he struggled until he was at last in a seated position.
“Do not strain yourself, my lord,” Mistress May broke in. “You must remember that your injury has not fully healed.”
But no one paid any heed to the Healer.
“So what is the truth, Father?” Amelie asked in a hushed tone, now suddenly afraid to hear the answer since his expression appeared so solemn.
“Ah, the truth. That is what everyone is after, is it not?” No one answered his question, and he let out a bitter laugh. “I was in London to look over a shipment of new wines from France when a man, whom I’ve never seen before, approached me. He spoke to me with a strange familiarity. At first I was confused as to why he called me by my brother’s name. And before I could reveal my true identity to him, the man launched into the details about a complex plot against the king. ‘Twas then that I realized the seriousness of the information that fell into my hands.”
“You’re known to resemble the Lord High Steward,” Derrik said.
“I curse the resemblance!” Lord Stanbury reached up and dug his fingers into his hair, pulling at it. “Roldan and I share very similar features; some people go so far as to claim that we are twins. In our youth, we were constantly mistaken for each other. I think this had irritated Roldan more than me,” he smiled ruefully at himself and let his hands fall to his lap. “But now the tables are turned.”
“’Twas then you went to Wykeham to confront Uncle Roldan about the plot,” Amelie said.
Her father nodded. “I didn’t have an opportunity to challenge my brother after that chance meeting with the man in London. However when I got home, I sent Roldan a message to meet me at the Fox Trail Inn, hinting that I knew about his insidious scheme against the king.” He took in a shaky breath as though recalling the events caused him much pain and sorrow. “When I met Roldan that day, I tried to persuade him to mend his ways, to forget about the conspiracy, and be happy with the power and prestige that he already had.” He shook his head. “But he laughed in my face, declaring that Lord Richard was the rightful ruler of England. He asked me to join forces with the king’s rebel brother. But when I refused, Roldan turned on me, saying that I would regret my decision.” He bent his head and stared unseeing at his hands on his lap. “Never did I think my own brother would try to murder me. Nor did I believe that he would ever think to betray his own country.”
“I suspected that the Lord High Steward was involved when the inn keeper spoke of two brothers. And aside from some details, you have confirmed several of my other suspicions.”
Amelie threw a startled look at Derrik. “Then that means you can help my father clear his name.” She clasped her hands together. “Since you have such high esteem with King Edward, he will listen to you, and my father will no longer need to act as a fugitive.”
Her father was innocent! She looked heavenward, and gave a quick thanks to God. All those hours of prayer at the chapel had influenced the outcome, and finally the weight of worry and fear lifted from her shoulders. She was right all along. Her father could now go to the king, and explain what had happened. From what she understood, King Edward was a reasonable man. He would listen to what her father had to say. Then Roldan would be arrested. Justice would be served, and all would be well in the world.
She grinned at Derrik and fought back an urge to dance a little jig. “I knew I could trust you.”