Authors: Amanda Paris
Tags: #gothic, #historical, #love, #magic, #paranormal, #romance, #time travel, #witchcraft, #witches
Relief washed over me, and I sent a prayer of
thanksgiving above, falling into her large, comforting arms.
But she wasn’t alone.
“Damien!” I exclaimed, all but screaming his
name in the joy of seeing him behind her.
“Shhh! We’ve got to be quick,” he whispered,
reaching his hand out for me and warming it between his large
hands.
“B-but how d-did you…” I began, faltering. I
could barely get my question out, so much did I shiver.
He put his hand on my lips.
“Later,” he whispered, taking my hand into
his to lead me out. I quickly stuffed the bread in my mouth,
quaffing the wine Millicent had brought almost in one gulp. There
was no time for explanations now.
I hugged Millicent, urging her to hurry to my
chamber for fear that Lamia would become suspicious if she wasn’t
in the women’s quarters of the castle.
I could see tears in her eyes. We both knew
that this was the last time we’d see each other.
“Emmeline, we must go now!” Damien urged,
pressing me to leave. I could see that Millicent struggled not to
cry, but I was adamant that she leave quickly, hoping no one would
discover her in the wrong part of the castle. It wouldn’t take much
effort to know why she was in the North Tower.
We crept down the narrow winding stairs of
the tower. I knew that we had little time before Lamia discovered
my escape. She likely wouldn’t let me rot there, I thought. She was
too diabolical; I knew she had something worse planned than just to
leave me alone to my fate.
Like me, Damien had grown up in the castle
and knew every part of it, including a secret passage built in the
dungeon, which led out through the woods not too far from where
we’d met the night before.
We reached the door leading to the hall. I
cringed at the thought of opening it.
“I’ll go first,” Millicent offered,
fearlessly opening the door and creeping out into the darkness. I
knew she’d have to make her way in the shadows of the hall in an
opposite direction from us to get to our chamber. I prayed for her
safe passage.
We waited five minutes, not hearing anything
so much as the swish of her skirts. I hoped it was a good sign that
no one had seen Millicent.
“It’s dawn, so they’ll all be in the field
preparing for the tournament,” Damien whispered in my ear.
Breakfast would come later in the hall, so we had a small window of
time to escape.
“I’ve already led the horses out; they’re
tethered by the chapel. Father Philip has agreed to help us. He’s
gathered food from the kitchens since I would have looked too
suspicious, and he’s going to marry us, Emmeline,” Damien finished
triumphantly. The excitement was evident in his voice, despite the
danger.
“But how did you get away from her? How did
you get the horses without raising an alarm?” I asked.
“Let’s just say that Millicent isn’t the only
person on our side,” he said, patting the keys in his pocket.
Peter, I thought, remembering Damien’s faithful squire. He must
have waited for the right time when no one was watching, found
Millicent, who had somehow gotten the keys that Lamia kept around
her waist at all times, and then let Damien out.
I wondered how Millicent did it but then
remembered that she’d been forced to launder Lamia’s clothes as
well as mine.Lamia wore the keys on a girdle, and Millicent must
have waited for her to undress before retiring. I didn’t think
Lamia wore the keys to bed, keeping them instead by a small table
in a shared chamber with my father. I imagined that Millicent must
have crept into the chamber last night while they slept, ostensibly
to collect Lamia’s clothes, something she would naturally do
without suspicion. Millicent must have seen the keys and stolen
them, meeting up with Peter to free us. They must have let Damien
out and then come for me. I prayed that Lamia wouldn’t suspect her
when she couldn’t find her keys.
But that only explained the key to the North
Tower and probably the chambers off from the stables where they’d
likely taken Damien. I thought it unlikely they’d used the dungeon;
no one ventured there, and I’d only discovered it accidently as a
small child. I had no idea where that key would be. Peter must have
good eyes and ears, I thought, if he’d discovered and stolen it for
Damien.
Peter hated Lamia almost as much as I did.
She constantly belittled him in front of others, for Peter walked
with a slight limp, having once fallen from a horse as a small boy.
Damien had deliberately chosen him as his squire to save him from
the brunt of others’ ridicule and to keep him out of Lamia’s
presence as much as possible. I hoped we could take him with us
wherever we were going. But I considered that Damien would have
already thought of that.
I silently prayed that Lamia didn’t know the
secret passage. There was only one way in and out, and if she
caught us, we’d be trapped.
Damien started taking off his shoes and
directing me to do the same. It was a comfort to see that he had
his sword with him. Peter had thought of everything we might
need.
“I’ll go first and see if anyone is there,”
he whispered.
Millicent had left the door cracked for us
when she slipped out, and Damien slowly opened just enough for us
to get by while I hid in the shadows behind him. He described the
scene before him without turning his head.
“Two old women clearing the trenchers from
last night. I don’t think they’ll notice us if we move quickly,” he
whispered.
He grabbed my hand, and we ran for it,
expecting every moment for an alarm to be raised at our escape.
We passed behind the dais, racing for a low
arch directly opposite to us that provided the cover of darkness.
We were halfway there when I heard my stepmother.
“And change these rushes! If I feel another
flea, it will be your hides that I come after!” she yelled to the
poor women responsible for clearing the leftovers of last night’s
banquet.
Neither woman commented, nodding and bowing
their heads. Everyone knew that Lamia was dangerous when she was on
the warpath.
She must have discovered the missing keys by
now, I thought, but then saw them dangling from her girdle. I
remembered then that there was a second set kept in the castle
chapel in case of danger or attack. Only I, my father, and Father
Philip would know where they were. Millicent wouldn’t have known
about this set, and I thought Peter wouldn’t either. It had to be
Father Philip. He must have given the keys to Peter, who gave them
to Damien. Perhaps Millicent hadn’t had to steal them from Lamia
after all. I was relieved, knowing that Lamia could wreak a
terrible vengeance when someone thwarted her desires.
I could feel her eyes on us in the dark. We’d
crept to an alcove in her direct line of sight, but the shadows hid
us well. Damien squeezed my hand, and when Lamia turned her back to
chastise the servants again, we dashed for the open door leading
down into the lowest region of the castle: the dungeon.
Once we were inside, we both paused for a
second to catch our breath.
Giving me a quick kiss, Damien reached for my
hand.
“Let’s go,” he said, not wanting to pause
even for a moment. We both knew that time was critical.
We took the second door down on the right,
but not before lifting one of the torches from the wall to light
our way down to the steps below. No one ever came close to this
part of the castle if they could help it, turning instead in the
other direction, which led to the kitchens. This was to our
advantage. Only a few people actually knew about the secret
passage—my father, myself, and Damien. I’d told him once when we
played hide and seek together as children and sworn him to secrecy.
I hoped that my father had not mentioned it to Lamia, though I held
out little hope that they kept secrets from each other. Our best
chance was that he’d forgotten all about it.
We crept down the stairs, which became
narrower as we descended. Finally reaching the bottom, we
encountered the iron gate, now rusted over from disuse; it led
directly to the inner chambers of the dungeon that contained the
secret passage, built originally as an escape route in case anyone
laid siege to the castle, only a remote possibility now. I looked
up, nearly screaming as four fearsome gargoyles greeted us, their
tongues of flame darting out. I buried my face in Damien’s
shoulder, unwilling to look them in the face again. It seemed that
Lamia did know this place, or someone did. I was glad to see, at
least, that no one had been down here lately. Damien rustled around
his pocket, found the set of keys someone had stolen for us, and
tried a few, without success. We were down to the last key, and I
said a few prayers, keeping my eyes closed against the evil
carvings, a reminder of the danger we faced.
It worked. We entered the dungeon a few
moments later. I passed several cells that must have once held some
unfortunate miscreants. I shuddered, feeling empathy for the poor
souls who’d departed this life from here. It was a dark place that
reeked of human misery.
We stopped at the fourth cell and looked for
the stones that would give way to the secret passage. We pushed for
awhile. After several unsuccessful tries, we looked hopelessly at
each other.
I paused, counting. It was five stones from
the bottom, I was sure. Perhaps they were stuck?
Both Damien and I pushed together, and one of
them budged, but just barely.
We looked at each other, a little panicked.
This was going to take forever, and Lamia could be on her way to
the tower at any moment. We needed to find a way to move the stones
now.
Damien searched the cell and found what
looked like a hammer lying beneath some old, tattered cloth. Who
knew what method of torture it had been used for? Or, for that
matter, whose cloth it was. I shuddered when I saw the deep stains
on both, but I knew it was our only chance.
Damien took off his sword, handed me the
torch, and took the first swing. We both jumped, startled at the
sound of the metal hitting the stones.
“Stand back,” he ordered.
I took two steps back, and he began hammering
in earnest. I kept a lookout for anyone who might have heard the
racket, but no one came. When I looked back, Damien had created a
small opening, just enough for us to crawl through to the other
side, where I hoped we could stand up. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to
crawl the entire way on my hands and knees.
Before going through, Damien tried taking the
hammer with him along with his sword, making it awkward for him to
maneuver at first in the small aperture in the wall.
“We may need them both,” he said with a
grimace as I handed both through the space he’d created for us.
Once we were on the other side, which
thankfully gave us more room, we began lifting the heavy stones and
putting them back in place, hoping they wouldn’t appear amiss to
anyone coming down there to search for us.
“There, last one,” Damien said. His words
echoed in the tunnel that formed the secret passage.
We began the mile-long trek through the dark.
I tried not to think about what I was stepping on; I was convinced
I felt rats underneath my feet.
Damien took my hand in his, still holding the
torch ahead of us.
“Don’t look. Just close your eyes; I’ll lead
you,” he said, threading his fingers through mine. I was glad not
be alone.
I decided to take his advice and not look
down. In any case, it was dark, the flame not giving off much
light, so I wouldn’t have seen anything except shadows cast by the
torch light. We walked on in silence for awhile, and I tried to
remember that I would be a married woman soon and far away from
danger. As happy as that thought made me, I knew I’d never see my
father again, never hear his voice or feel his arms about me. Lamia
had done this, had taken him away from me forever, and he was as
dead to me as my mother was.
Damien seemed to read my mood and the
direction of my thoughts.
“Don’t think about it, Emmeline. Just
remember how much I love you,” he said, the words “love you”
echoing around us.
“I love you too,” I replied, merging my words
with his and smiling at him. I’d forgotten for a moment that he
couldn’t see me. He seemed to sense it because he turned around to
kiss me, despite our seemingly dire circumstances.
“So what’s the plan?” I inquired a few
minutes later.
“Peter is sending word to Father Philip, who
is at the chapel, and he’s there waiting with food and the horses.
We’ll soon be married in the chapel, and then we’ll be far away
from here, long before the tournament begins this afternoon. I
wanted to leave during the night to give us better cover, but we
can’t afford to hide and wait it out first,” he finished.
I thought about the incredible risk Damien
was taking and my father’s angry reaction last night to his
declaration. I swallowed. Hard.
“Do you think maybe it’s a bad idea to get
married now?” I asked, thinking that Lamia might be well on her way
to finding us.
He stopped short, causing me to collide into
his back.
“I mean, wouldn’t it be better to wait until
we were safe first?” I suggested tentatively.
He stared down at me, the torch casting his
features into a half shadow. The planes of his face looked hard and
chiseled, as if carved from stone.
“Emmeline, do you agree with your father?” he
asked quietly.
“What?” How could he ask me such a
question?
“I cannot offer you castles or wealth. Do you
want someone noble?” he asked.
I saw the pain written in his eyes, even in
the dim light cast by the torch. My father’s words had hurt him
more than I could have imagined. Damien had always been sensitive
about the disparity between our stations, but we’d both relied on
my father’s love to see us through.