Lion Heart

He shook his head. “No. She told me contacting her would be too dangerous; we couldn’t risk Prince John questioning my loyalty. But she told me to protect you at any cost.”

 

 

I shivered, nodding and coming out of the cell. He took off his heavy cloak and wrapped it round me. I pulled it tight. “Can you take me to her?”

 

He nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

 

I stopped. “I’m sorry you had to do that, David.”

 

His mouth were tight. He didn’t lie and say it were fine, that he were glad to do it. He gave me a sharp nod, I reckon more so I knew he heard me than anything else.

 

“Thank you,” I told him.

 

He sighed. “We should go.”

 

I nodded, crouching and taking Thomas’s sword from his still body, and capturing his knife besides. I stood, and David led me down the hall to a larger chamber that guarded the hallway. There were a door there, and I could just see the dark night out beyond it.

 

“Stay back,” he murmured to me. “The castle is well guarded. I don’t know how much they know of what was meant to happen.”

 

“Let me help,” I told him. “You can’t fight them alone.”

 

His mouth settled into a grim line. “You aren’t strong enough for that, my lady. And there are too many of them.”

 

“They may not know that it were meant to be you and Thomas,” I told him.

 

He looked at me. “We can’t risk it if they do.”

 

I sighed. “Where are we?” I asked him.

 

“Bramber Castle,” he told me. “Sussex. We’re only a few hours’ ride to London.”

 

I opened the door, looking out. There were two horses, and affixed behind one of them were a cart filled with hay and a white cloth, the perfect size to hold a person. I shivered.

 

“What did you think that were for?” I asked him.

 

He shook his head. “That wasn’t out there before. Thomas must have ordered it hooked up to the horses.” He looked at me.

 

“But why would he want my body?” I asked.

 

“Maybe Prince John wanted . . . proof,” he said slow.

 

I nodded, shutting the door. “Of course he would. Which also limits the time we have until Prince John discovers what’s been done.”

 

“Not necessarily,” David said. “He wouldn’t have wanted to risk being seen in public with your body. Thomas must have had another location to meet him. I can forge Thomas’s hand well enough and send Prince John a letter.”

 

“But the guards here still need to believe it,” I told him. I looked down the hallway to where the cell were at the end. “But I may have an idea for that.”

 

 

 

David looked at me and crossed himself.

 

“What?” I asked.

 

“My lady, I find this quite chilling.”

 

I touched my face. I’d rubbed mud from the cell on my skin, letting it dry gray and white, before smearing Thomas’s blood on me, spattering it on my face. To anyone who saw, I would look truly dead.

 

I looked at my hands, paler than usual and chalky looking, with blood on them. A dead man’s blood. “Yes,” I told him. “Well, that is the idea.”

 

He nodded, and with a sigh, he put his arm around my back and crouched to sweep under my knees. He picked me up and carried me to the end of the hall. “Remember,” he told me. “Try to move—and breathe—as little as possible.”

 

I nodded, shutting my eyes and letting my head fall limp in his arms, craning back at an awkward angle.

 

The door creaked open, and I felt the chill of the night air around me. It were late spring now, months since the winter when I’d first been imprisoned, but the nights still held a chill, like the sun couldn’t quite keep its hold on the world.

 

My hand slipped from my stomach, stretching out at an awkward angle, but I didn’t dare move. I didn’t know who were in the courtyard with us.

 

“Move the sheet,” David ordered someone. I heard rustling, and David lowered my body onto the hay. It were sharp and hostile, poking into skin that weren’t supposed to be able to feel it. I felt a harder weight beneath me—David had put Thomas’s sword and knife in the cart before me. I couldn’t move enough to grab them, but knowing they were there were a comfort.

 

“Christ,” another voice murmured. “She’s a child. Who was she?”

 

“You’re not paid for your interest, sir,” David said sharply. “This letter must be taken to the prince immediately. Have your messenger see it directly into his hands, do you understand?”

 

The cloth came down over my face, pitching me deeper into darkness, and I opened my eyes a hair, cautious. I couldn’t see anything, which should mean they couldn’t see me.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Tell them to open the gate,” he ordered.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Moments later, the cart started to move slow, only to stop again after a short distance. I felt a low shaking and wondered if they were raising the portcullis.

 

“Where’s the other fellow?” someone asked.

 

“We had some difficulty with the prisoner,” David said. “See that your priest gives him a proper burial.”

 

There were some low noises I couldn’t make out.