Page 73 of The Noble Servant

“Go on back to Lord Hazen.” Steffan could not even look at her anymore.

Katrin took her horse and ran back the way they had come.

“Come!” Steffan took Magdalen’s hand, his other hand holding his horse’s reins, and ran toward the mines. Lenhart followed.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Steffan wasn’t sure which way to go, so Magdalen took the lead through the heavily forested hills. The wind grew quite wild, shaking and twisting the limbs of the trees and whipping Magdalen’s hair across her face. They pushed on, trudging up and down and around three more hills, no longer able to hear horses’ hooves behind him.

Ten yards ahead of them was a hole in the side of a sheer face of rock. A well-worn but slightly overgrown path led up to it.

“Will the horses fit inside?” he asked.

“Yes. This is our widest mine.”

They went inside, leading the horses. It was completely dark, but Magdalen found a torch on the ground and Steffan set about making a spark with a flint and steel and tinder to light the torch. When he finally accomplished that task, he held up the torch with one hand and the horses’ reins with the other while Magdalen came in behind him.

“Wait.” Steffan stopped. “If Lord Hazen knows we stole his map, won’t this be the first place he’ll look for us?”

“It is true. He may.”

“I suppose we have little choice. We must either hide here or try to make it to your mother’s house to get help.”

Lenhart started making grunting noises.

“What is it?” Magdalen asked him.

Steffan could not see him in the dark mine, but Magdalen was closer to Lenhart and did not have the glare of the torch in her eyes.

“You want to go to Mother and try to get help?”

“That might be a good idea, but it is dangerous.” Steffan held his breath.

“He wants to do it, and he knows this area very well. He should be able to get there before Hazen and his men, if they are headed for Mallin Park House.” Magdalen turned to Lenhart. “Please be careful.”

Steffan imagined the compassionate, concerned look on Magdalen’s face, the look that was so often there. His heart squeezed.

Soon Lenhart was gone, and he and Magdalen continued into the mine.

The dirt floor angled down, but it grew sharply more angled, tilting so much that they had to walk leaning backward and slow their pace, taking small steps.

The air must be getting thinner because he could barely breathe. He tugged at the neckline of his shirt. And suddenly he was five years old again and trapped in a hole in the ground. The low ceiling and walls seemed to close in on him.

Magdalen touched his arm. “Are you all right?”

“Of course.”

“Most people are nervous their first time in a mine. If you want to stay at the entrance, I can look around.”

“No. I can do this.”

How could he appear so weak and foolish in front of Magdalen? She who was so brave herself. They were supposed to be searching for what was so valuable that his uncle would force his son to marry Lady Magdalen for it.

He focused on his breathing—deep breaths in and out—and searching the uneven dirt and rock of the walls and ceiling. But he kept imagining the ceiling falling in on them, and his breathing went shallow again. His face started to tingle.

“Talk,” Steffan said.

“What?”