The Heart of a Queen (A Historical Romance)

Chapter 7

All at once, there was a loud crash from across the room. Brienna whipped her head around and saw that Llewellyn was standing, his fists on the table. He'd stood so fast that his chair had fallen behind him, and hit the table so hard that his cup had bounced from its surface and smashed on the floor, its liquid spattered as far as the wall.

His expression was one of vivid rage, the heat of the emotion so strong that Brienna felt it like a hail of arrows shot across the room, hitting their mark in the chests of the men that surrounded her. She was so shocked by it that it took her a moment to notice that Lob had let her go, and she jumped up and ran from the great hall, straight to her room, not caring what happened there after she left.

There, she breathed deeply at the cool air coming in the window, reliving the incident until some time later, when Isobel let herself in without knocking. Brienna didn't acknowledge her. She was busy taking solace in watching pinpoint stars appear one by one in the darkening sky.

"My brother sent me to see if you're alright," Isobel said. She looked around the room and started to idly inspect the furnishings and Brienna's personal things as if everything there belonged to her.

"I am unharmed," Brienna said curtly.

"You won't see Lob again," Isobel assured her. Brienna didn't ask whether this meant he'd been imprisoned, killed, or exiled. She didn't care, and by morning, it wouldn't matter. In the short time since returning to her room, she'd hatched a plan that would make sure of that.

When Brienna didn't take up the offer of conversation, Isobel turned to the doorway, about to leave.

"There better be war soon, or all the maids in the country are in danger of having their virtue taken by force," she said before she went. "Restless men without purpose are no good to women."

As soon as she was gone, Brienna tucked her few things into the light wooden chest she'd brought with her. Then she returned to her night sky vigil, waiting for the hour when everyone in the castle would be asleep.

Brienna had decided that escape was her only option. She had to get away from this awful place of mist and stone, away from these cruel, cold people who called themselves her hosts. And she had to do it under cover of night; she'd seen the king out before dawn from her window, walking his horse in the meadow for a breakfast of sweet young grass. She had no time to spare.

She encountered no one as she snuck through the courtyard, making her way to the stables. Passing through the open barn door, her nose was greeted by the smell of fresh hay and the warm animal musk of horses. She found Ulf in a corner that no horse occupied. He always preferred to make his bed near the animals he cared for, and Llewellyn had likely not offered him alternative quarters anyway, Brienna thought, vexed.

He had a small fire going and was cooking the bread his people favored that was made of lard, water, and the blue-gray flour ground from buckwheat. The scent of it scoured Brienna with nostalgia for home.

She was overjoyed to see that he was awake, though she wasn't surprised; the only time she had ever seen the big redhead sleep was while riding, sitting upright on a trusted steed. When he saw her, he leaned back and studied her in the firelight, waiting for her to speak.

"Saddle my horse for me, Ulf. I leave here tonight."

Wordlessly, Ulf did as she bid, rustling the russet brown mare Brienna rode from her stall and strapping on the soft saddle used for travelling that was simply a wool-lined leather blanket that rested across the horse's back. When he was done, Brienna placed her wooden chest at Ulf's feet.

"In a day or so, when you know for sure I've gotten away without being followed, bring my things and meet me at St. Brigid's Bay. From there we'll sail home together."

She accepted Ulf's assistance getting onto her horse, using his knee as a step and his shoulder as a handy support to balance herself on the horse's sturdy back.

"Suppose the king sees fit to chase after ye," he said in that manner all servants learn in order to question their masters' judgment without seeming to.

Brienna tested the reigns, hiding the fear she felt about that very thing.

"You'll stall him for me, won't you Ulf?" she looked down at him, her eyes bright with the anticipation of what she was about to do.

"And be hanged for it, no less," the Norseman said, but Brienna knew him well enough to take his shaking head as agreement.

Brienna rode into the courtyard with Ulf following. He opened the heavy gate so she could pass.

"Tick-tick," he signalled her horse to move forward into the night, and Brienna set off across the meadow, putting the castle at her back, waves charging at the cliffs in a hail of jubilant power, as if they were celebrating her escape.