Princess of Silence, page 7
part #1 of When Kings Collide Series
Anger and frustration welled up inside of him again. “Dammit! Damn! Damn! Damn!” he spat, pounding on his saddle horn. Charles backed his horse up, knowing better than anyone it would do no good to try to calm him. At this point, he should be angry. And afraid. They should all be afraid.
Eventually, after taking some deep breaths and considering his assets, Philip regained his composure. He was glad his Uncle Edward had been feeling too ill to join them that day. He would have gotten a lecture on self-control, one that he could presently do without. His anger at his uncle boiled deep inside of him, a rage that was always present but often controlled.
This was all Edward’s fault. It was his idea to invade Zurconia, his idea to kill the queen and kidnap the king, his idea to build this bloody line of defense in the lowlands right beside a swamp! The only decent idea he’d had from the beginning of this ill-fated scheme was utilized at the beginning of the conquest when Edward had suggested they cut off the Pass of Jessella so that the Arterians could not come to the Zurconian’s aid. That and attacking from the north, through the southeast corner of Gradenia so that the Arterians could not get there in time and would be positioned far from Clovington, which meant it would take them even longer to invade. Where were those grand ideas now, now that they were about to lose everything they had?
The Arterians had made it to Castle Ringley despite spending almost a week forcing their way through Jessella. But they had been too late. By the time they’d arrived, Philip had Matthew across the Gradenian border. Phillip knew Caleb had been willing to engage King Leopold Vincent of Gradenia's forces as well, if necessary, but he had been unable to locate the small band of men Philip had used to bring the kidnapped king back to Clovington. When Philip had asked his cousin for assistance, Leopold had not been willing to use his own forces in what he believed to be a “suicidal escapade doomed to eventual failure.”
Philip distinctly remembered the day he had arrived back at Blackthorn and thrown Matthew in prison. He’d laughed at Leopold’s misguided perception. Now, with the Arterians barking at his heels, he understood exactly what his cousin had seen from the beginning. His uncle’s vengeful plan was doomed to failure. While it had been possible to sneak into Zurconia and wreak havoc, it seemed it was not possible to prevent Arteria from doing the same in Clovington.
And now, it was just a matter of time.
Philip was finished with his tour of the troops. He gave a few orders regarding changes to make, including an attempt to start digging in on the higher ground of the ridge, though he wasn’t sure that would make any difference at this point, and headed back to Blackthorn. He prayed there would be a messenger from Gradenia awaiting his return. Otherwise, he had absolutely no idea what he was going to do.
Chapter 9
“Princess Katherine, we must meet with the dressmaker to fit your gown,” Joan said the moment Katherine walked back in the door from her morning trip to the library.
Looking around the room, Katherine could see Joan was already quite involved this morning, even though it was barely past 10:00. Fabric, flowers, glass ornaments, all sorts of items Katherine didn’t care to look at, were sitting atop every flat surface. Thank the heavens Joan was in her element when it came to planning festivities because wedding King Philip was the last thing Katherine wanted to think about.
Running her hand across a folded piece of fabric on the dresser, Katherine shook her head and made a gesture with her hands to let Joan know she wasn’t planning to stay in the room. Philip was gone, and she wanted to visit Matthew before he returned.
“Katherine, when will you be available? We only have a few days until the wedding.” Joan’s voice sounded melancholy, and Katherine hated to disappoint her, the woman did so much for her, but the only bright spot she could consider when thinking of the wedding was the possibility that her brother and sister might attend.
The nearness of the Arterian Army and the short notice would likely prevent that, however. It was possible to send a messenger to Nadoria and return in time, but it was highly unlikely Eleanora would put herself in harm’s way under the circumstances. It wasn’t as if she’d made any stipulations when she’d had Katherine dropped at the door, and as far as the queen was concerned, she probably assumed Katherine was already wed to Philip. She hoped that wouldn’t mean that Eleanora would send reinforcements to Philip, should he ask. Katherine couldn’t bear to think her own kingdom might be involved in Matthew’s demise.
It wasn’t likely that Eleanora would enter the fray without confirming with her sister that she and Philip were wed, so, if Caleb continued to make the progress he had been recently, perhaps the war would be over before Nadoria became involved.
Perhaps the war would be over before the nuptials.
Rather than continuing to listen to Joan request her assistance, Katherine headed out the door. Blackthorn had a lovely garden, despite the darkness the castle’s name implied, so she stopped by to gather some flowers along with the food, water, and another thin book she’d found in the library. She couldn’t help but smile as she climbed the stairs, thinking of how glad he’d be to see her.
Katherine paused before tapping on the door. Matthew was singing. Unlike the mournful song she’d heard before, this melody was light and airy, a song about true love. While she hated to interrupt, she knew he’d want what she’d brought him, so she rapped lightly and waited.
Matthew ended his song and bounded to the door, lifting the flap. “Good morrow, Angel! How are you today?”
Sinking to the floor, Katherine smiled at him and gave an encouraging nod. Immediately, she handed the gifts through the door and then used a fresh stem to fill Matthew’s cup several times. She had brought two canteens, and he emptied both of them, gulping down the still-cool water. The last thing she’d given him were the flowers from the garden. They were slightly smooshed going through the slot, but he loved them and thanked her several times, glad to have something so colorful in his dismal room.
“How can I ever repay your kindness?” Matthew asked, slumping against the door, still nibbling on the fruit she’d brought him. A wedge of charcoal kept the flap open, and Katherine couldn’t help but look into his eyes as he spoke.
Since she could not answer with words, she waved at him, trying to say he needn’t attempt to repay her. It brought her joy knowing that she was brightening his day.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Katherine was content just to be in his company, and she assumed he was happy not to be alone. Eventually, he asked, “Angel, do you think you could do me a favor?”
Katherine sat up straighter, her eyes wide with inquiry. He continued. “Do you think you could get rid of some scraps for me?”
Confused, Katherine tipped her head to the side and studied him. What sort of scraps he could be talking about? She had an empty basket she didn’t mind filling, so she nodded, letting him know she would do what she could but she was puzzled about what he could be speaking of.
“Thank you,” he replied. “I have all of this wood and sawdust. I was able to drop some of it through the arrow slits, but then, I don’t want anyone to see it on the ground below and become suspicious. You see, my dear, I have a plan.” The king winked at her mischievously, and Katherine felt her face flame.
While she still couldn’t decipher what he could be talking about, when he began to pass small pieces of wood and handfuls of sawdust through the slit in the door, she took it, along with a few bloodied towels he’d used to keep it off of the stone floor.
“I don’t believe you can see it,” Matthew explained, “but there’s a rather large bookcase against the far wall. I’m not exactly sure of its purpose or how it came to be here because it takes up entirely too much room and books fall right off of its shelves, but it’s here nonetheless.” He paused and met her eyes. Lowering his voice, he whispered, “And, beyond a thin backing, it’s hollow!”
Katherine raised her eyebrows and held his gaze, still unsure of his meaning. The sawdust tickled her nose, and she fought off a sneeze. The basket was nearly full; she certainly didn’t have enough room for an entire bookcase worth of wood.
“You see, Angel, I’m going to remove the backing and hide there. When next they come to pay me a visit, they will see I have found a way to escape. With any luck, they will run out, leaving the door open behind them, and I will use that as my opportunity to flee!” He smiled at her as if he had it all figured out. “What do you think? Do you think it will be successful?’”
No—that was her initial response. No, she did not think it would work for a number of reasons. First of all, while it appeared to be a bookshelf, Katherine was confident by his description that what he was referring to was something else entirely. This tower had probably been used for religious prisoners back during the period of reform in Clovington. The shelves were narrow because they weren’t for books. They were for relics. Though she knew it was possible that Philip, Edward, or whomever was next to pay Matthew a visit, might be foolish enough to overlook pulling the cabinet out from the wall, she didn’t think it was likely. Unless he found a way to reattach a backing so that he was inside it with a cover over the enclosure, she was quite sure he would be found out.
Secondly, even if he was able to go undetected, it was unlikely whomever noticed he was gone would leave the door unlatched when they ran back down the stairs searching for him. It seemed to her, they’d want to take every precaution to ensure the king did not escape if he were still inside of the room; therefore, a shut and locked door would be the most logical way to ensure the king was secure.
Then, there was the fact that only one stairwell led out of this tower. Matthew would have to follow his captors down the stairs, through the secret passage, make his way out of the castle, past the army, and home. How would any of this be possible? No, it really seemed completely unlikely to work. The only way it could conceivably be successful would entail a comedy of errors on the side of Philip and his men. And though they were not exactly savants, surely they could keep a man in a prison with one gate and one exit.
The expression in Matthew’s eyes was enough to convey to Katherine, however, that he needed to believe in this plan. He needed one of the few things she could give him—hope. There was no reason to let him know she found his chances of success nil to none. She nodded her head in agreement. Yes, yes, she thought his plan was a good one—infallible. What could possibly go wrong?
“Wonderful!” Matthew exclaimed. “I’ve been here so long, sometimes I wonder if I’m even thinking rationally anymore.” He finished with the last scraps of wood, which Katherine placed in her pocket because the basket was full, dusted his hands off on his filthy trousers, and settled back against the door. “Your eyes are so lovely,” he said, causing the heat to rise in her face again. “Pardon, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Katherine shook her head, but she was having trouble looking at his face. His eyes were lovely, too, though she couldn’t think of a way to convey that to him, so she only smiled.
Matthew cleared his throat as if to say he wanted to change to a different topic. “Once I escape, where do I go? Do you know?”
Katherine wasn’t certain. She wasn’t as familiar with Clovington as she’d like. Raising a finger to her lips, she tapped lightly while she thought. Several tunnels ran underneath the castle, but she wasn’t exactly sure where they led. She would need to investigate before she could make any sort of recommendation.
She would also need to tell him about the terrain beyond Castle Blackthorn. The land was rolling hill country, leading down into the Lowetian Forest, an extremely swampy area, full of muck and dangerous creatures. Then there was the area around Glendor, rocky and full of treacherous creeping juniper and purple berberis. Considering he had no shoes, his clothes were tattered and would be of no protection, she didn’t think he would make it too far.
If he ran into the Arterian Army, there was a great possibility that he could be rescued. Or, if they didn’t recognize him, he might be killed by allied forces. The possibilities were endless, and since there was certainly no easy way to escape this place, she feared for his safety, should he be bold enough to try.
Matthew was staring at her intently, wanting some sort of an answer. Katherine shrugged her shoulders, indicating she wasn’t certain. “Will you do some investigating?” he asked, rapidly raising and lowering his eyebrows several times. She stifled a giggle and nodded, impressed with his ability to stay in a pleasant mood despite his situation.
“Very well, then! I shall await your council! Perhaps you could sketch me a picture?”
Again, she nodded. She used pictures often to communicate. While she was capable of writing, Joan and many of the other women and servants she’d interacted with over the years were not capable of reading, so she didn’t use that method of communication often.
“Yes, yes, very good,” Matthew muttered, settling against the wall. She could still see him, but not as easily. “Now, forgive me for prying. I mean no disrespect, I’m simply curious. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you ever speak?”
Katherine had been asked the same haunting question thousands of times in the last fifteen years. Usually the tone of the person inquiring was vicious and impatient, unlike Matthew’s, which was kind and thoughtful. She absently rubbed the lace at the hem of her dress between her thumb and first finger before finally shaking her head. No, she never spoke. Never.
It was his turn to signal in silence this time. He nodded his head in understanding. “I see,” he finally said. “Well, you do an excellent job of getting by without it.” He smiled at her reassuringly, and Katherine returned the gesture.
Settling back further against the wall, Matthew’s tone became jovial. “Once, I went a long while without talking.” Katherine peered at him curiously, not sure how that was possible. “It’s true. The entire first year of my life, I didn’t speak a single word.” She couldn’t help but giggle. “Soon after that, I began to talk and haven’t stopped since.”
Katherine couldn’t imagine Matthew not talking. He was one of the chattiest people she had ever met. He was also quite intelligent as he always seemed to know exactly the right words to say.
He was leaning back so far now, she couldn’t see him, but the sound of his voice was soothing as he began to reminisce. “Now, my brother, he is more the strong, silent type. If the two of you were in a room together, well, there would not be a lot of conversation, I’m afraid.” Katherine listened intently, wanting to know more about his life. “I certainly miss him, my brother Caleb. We used to do everything together, go everywhere, get into all kinds of trouble. He was a remarkable older brother, all that a boy could ever ask for. Of course, he’s only a year-and-a-half older than me, but I looked up to him like he was….” He paused for a moment, “Well, as if he’d been my father, I suppose.”
Matthew’s voice shifted at the mention of his father, and Katherine assumed there were unpleasant memories associated with the man. She could relate, though she doubted her pain was the same as Matthew’s.
He continued. “Yes, Caleb is quite a splendid fellow. I hope you have the chance to meet him. I believe the two of you will get on well. And once he finds out how much you’ve assisted me, well, he’ll be sure you are greatly rewarded.”
Matthew leaned forward so he could see her through the door. “You don’t believe me?” he asked, and she assumed her eyes must be displaying her skepticism. While she hadn’t given much thought of what would become of her if Caleb overran Blackthorn, she doubted he’d be too sympathetic to Philip’s wife-to-be.
“Caleb never wages war against civilians; he finds it extremely unethical, though there is always a possibility of unintended casualties with any battle. I’m certain you will be safe, my Angel, and if we find a way to let Caleb know how you’ve aided me, you will be well cared for. Otherwise, as soon as I reach Castle Caine or the Arterian Army, I will be sure to enlighten them as to the situation.”
Katherine managed a smile, but she had no expectations for what might happen to her once Matthew was freed, particularly if Blackthorn fell. At best, she hoped Caleb or Philip would simply return her to Nadoria. That would be the most pleasant outcome she could imagine. However, it was more likely Caleb would see her as the enemy, particularly if she was already wed to King Philip upon the arrival of the Arterians. She expected she’d find herself imprisoned in Castle Caine. Perhaps Matthew would be able to help her return to her family, if he realized who she was, but it was not something she was planning on.
There was also the possibility that she and Philip would escape north to Gradenia. She knew he was looking for assistance from King Leopold. If Philip took her and ran, she imagined Leopold would give them refuge until Philip could make amends with Caleb and possibly reclaim at least part of his kingdom.
But Katherine was fairly certain that Caleb would grant Philip no leniency and that her nightmare would only end when Philip was either deep in the ground below Castle Caine or in a tomb.
She just hoped her fate would not be the same.
“Are you well, Angel?” Matthew’s soft voice asked.
She nodded, not sure how to answer. If she spent all of her resources planning for her own future, she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on his, and sparing the king was more important at the moment. She managed a smile, and he returned the gesture, resting his head against the door with a sigh.
Katherine stayed for several hours, listening to Matthew recount stories of his childhood at Castle Caine. She loved listening to the melody of his voice, especially when he spoke of his adventures as a small boy. It was easy to tell that he had always been carefree and young at heart, while his brother seemed more serious and carried the weight of his responsibility as heir to the crown. Caleb also seemed to look out for his younger brother in every situation. It was no wonder Caleb was fighting so diligently to save Matthew. She couldn’t imagine how Caleb must feel knowing his brother was locked in a filthy hovel with little food or clean water, no chance of escape, despite his fanciful plan, and no hope for release.
