I heard a muffled scream and the rattling sound of a chair being dragged over the boards. I jumped back and, with quick steps, closed in on the maid, who was frantically shaking her head. The watch safe on my wrist, I uncovered her mouth. “The last corridor to the right, after the stairs,” she spat at me, her eyes full of hate. “Then the second door on your left.”
Disturbed by the sheer intensity of her stare, I hesitated—what I had just done felt terribly wrong. But my hesitation did not last. Yes, to tie up the maid and play to her superstitious nature was wrong, but I had not chosen to be here, either. If someone was to blame, it was certainly Don Julián, not I. So I gagged her again as gently as I dared, grabbed the bowl with the uneaten food, and left the room.
My eyes on the floor, my face and hair hidden under an ample shawl, I walked past the soldier guarding the door, and forcing myself to drag my feet to control my urge to run, I headed toward Don Alfonso’s quarters. Once again I was lucky. Only one soldier was on guard. Holding tightly to the dinner bowl I had taken to justify my visit, I walked up to the door.
Suddenly alert, the soldier blocked my way with his spear. “Why are you back, woman? Don Alfonso has already eaten.”
With a swift movement, I threw the porridge at his eyes. Before he could react, I had yanked the spear from his hands and knocked him unconscious with the bowl. Once I had tied his hands with his own belt and covered his mouth with the maid’s apron, I unlocked the door.
Sitting by the window, Don Alfonso was reading. “I won’t be needing anything else,” he said without lifting his eyes from the book. “You may leave now.”
“Don Alfonso. It’s me, Andrea.”
Don Alfonso looked up, his handsome face frozen in surprise.
“Would you please come, Sir? I need your help.”
Always the gentleman, Don Alfonso rose to his feet and bowed. “Princess Andrea. What are you doing here?”
In a low whisper, I urged him to hurry. He came over then with a stiff walk. But when he reached my side and saw the man lying against the wall, his voice rose in alarm. “What have you done, Princess? Why have you killed him?”
“I have not killed anyone. He is only unconscious. So would you stop asking stupid questions and help?”
Tugging at his arms, I pulled him to the soldier. Don Alfonso didn’t argue. He bent down, and while I grabbed the man’s feet, he lifted his upper body and, with surprising dexterity, led the way back into the room. But as soon as the soldier was inside and the door closed, he went back to his complaining.
“I don’t understand, Princess. Why did you do this?”
I sighed. I had imagined Don Alfonso would be thrilled with my rescue operation. Instead he seemed genuinely upset at me. Why had I bothered to go to him? I should have left on my own. But now it was too late. Worried that he would call the guard if I didn’t convince him of the validity of my actions, I took a deep breath and plunged on with my explanation. “Because we must talk with Don Julián immediately. I have a plan. A plan to stop this war. I have found the door.”
“I see you have found my door—”
“Not yours. The door to the other world. Remember? The one your brother is looking for.” To make my point, I rolled up my sleeve and showed him the watch. Don Alfonso stepped back, fear flashing in his eyes. “You said your brother would do anything to go to the other world. Does anything include negotiating a peace treaty with Father?”
Don Alfonso stared at me for a long time. Then when I was sure he was going to declare me insane and call for the soldiers, he smiled. “Yes, I suppose it does. For access to the other world, my brother would most likely stop the war and leave. And I will marry Princess Margarida.”
“What?”
“To make the peace last, we need an alliance between your House and Alvar. That I marry your sister seems the obvious solution. Don Andrés will—”
Having Don Alfonso as my brother-in-law was not exactly my idea of a happy ending, but now was not the time to argue. “Fine,” I said. “Now we must hurry.”
Don Alfonso was not convinced. “Why didn’t you tell me of your plan this afternoon? We could have sent a letter to my brother, instead of . . .” At the look of disgust on his face as he pointed to the soldier lying on the floor, I finally lost my temper. Raising my voice until his was silenced, I told him of my plan in a quick angry gust of words.
“I hate violence as much as you do, Sir. But there was no other way. And yes, you will write a letter to Don Julián—we may need it to trick the guards into letting us leave. But we must carry it ourselves. This matter is too important to leave the letter in the hands of a messenger who may or may not deliver it. Anyway, it is too late for me now. I have kidnapped a maid and knocked out a soldier. I am not going to sit around and wait for your temperamental brother to send me to a real prison.
“As for you, Sir, I’m sorry if I disturbed your evening. I thought you would like to come with me. I see now I was wrong and I apologize. If you would be so kind as to tell me how to get to the stables, I will be gone presently.”
“But of course I’m coming with you, Princess,” Don Alfonso said as he bowed to me in his annoying manner. “What kind of a gentleman do you think I am if you believe I could allow a beautiful lady like yourself to go alone?”
I was going to tell him that I did not need his protection, that I had managed to do very well by myself until then, thank you very much. But the truth was, I would be happy to have him at my side, as he knew the castle and the way back to the river better than I did. So I swallowed my pride and graciously curtsied to him. “Your company is greatly appreciated, my lord,” I said. As he smiled, I urged him impatiently. “Now, Sir, would you please change into the soldier’s uniform? We don’t have much time.”
Without further argument, Don Alfonso complied. Once he was ready, he wrote a letter to Don Julián, and after he had sealed it with the signet on his ring, we rushed through the corridors and into the courtyard.
The page at the stables let Don Alfonso get a little too close. Soon the boy was unconscious and tied on the floor, and I was wearing his clothes.
Don Alfonso, in the meantime, had saddled two horses. We mounted them and rode away across the empty baileys until we reached the gatehouse.
The sun had been gone for a while now, and in the soft golden light of Athos, we were only shadows. But when the guard called to us with his compulsory “Who goes there?” that would determine our fate, my blood was pounding in my ears so loudly that I could barely hear the impatient thunder of the horses’ hooves.
Ahead of me, Don Alfonso, anonymous under the soldier’s helmet, waved the sealed letters at the sentries, shouting his urgent mission to the night shadows. There was a moment of silence, then with a screeching sound of rusty iron, a line of light appeared under the gate. Without a look back, we plunged ahead through the open mouth, down the steep hill that led to freedom.
It was already morning when we reached the camp where my ill-fated conversation with Don Julián had taken place. Dressed as Suavian men, we were virtually invisible among the soldiers coming and going between the fields and the encampment. The guards let us through without challenge.
After leaving the horses—alas, not my dear Flecha this time—grazing in the enclosure, we proceeded to the king’s tent. Two soldiers stood at attention on both sides of the entrance.
“We have a message for the king!” Don Alfonso shouted in his most imperious voice as soon as we reached them.