Chapter 17
Sometime later, after the flames of passion had been sated, Mina and the Count lay on the rug before the hearth.
They had been quiet for some time, listening only to the howling of the wind outside and the crackling of the fire within, when the Count sat up suddenly.
His expression had turned grave, his gaze fixed on the doorway and the dark hall beyond, as though he heard something she could not.
“What is it?” Mina asked.
“Hush,” he said, pressing a finger to his lips.
For the first time since she had met him, the Count looked unsettled. He rose, pulling on his shirt, fastening it quickly before reaching out a hand to help her up. Mina smoothed her dress, her heart racing as they stood there for several tense moments.
Then she heard it.
She could not be sure what it was—a dull thud somewhere deep within the castle—but fear coiled in her gut, not because of the sound itself, but because of the expression on his face.
He took her hand and said, “Come with me.”
The Count led her down a shadowed passageway, and when Mina noticed that Sofia was nowhere in sight, a brief sense of relief washed over her before concern quickly replaced it.
Something was very wrong. This was nothing like their earlier wanderings through the castle—this was urgent, dangerous.
Though the corridor was steeped in darkness, his pace never faltered.
His grip on her wrist tightened, firm enough to bruise.
She might have bristled at being handled so roughly, but before she could speak, a sudden crash echoed from somewhere below. Her mind leapt to the wolves she had heard howling in the mountains—creatures large enough to batter the iron gates.
As he pulled her into another corridor, she whispered, “What’s happening?”
A louder crash thundered through the castle, and fear surged through her, old warnings echoing in her mind—Only God can save you there.
Suddenly, his hand slipped from hers, and panic flared at the thought of being abandoned in the pitch black. But then came the click of a lock, and he grasped her wrist again, pulling her through an open doorway.
Moonlight spilled in through the window, revealing the shape of furniture within—it was a bedroom much like her own, but smaller.
The Count caught her face in his hands. “You will stay here,” he said urgently. “You will hide and make no sound. You will not move until I return.”
Another crash rang out, followed by voices echoing through the stone halls.
“You’re leaving me?” Mina whispered.
“There are too many of them for me to protect you.” His voice hardened. “You must remain unseen. Do you understand?”
She wondered how he could know how many intruders there were without laying his eyes upon them, but then the voices grew louder, closer—multiplying.
“Wilhelmina,” he said sharply.
She nodded, her voice fragile. “I understand.”
He pressed a kiss to her lips, the act bringing a flutter to her stomach, then he was across the room, closing her inside.
He paused, looking up at her through the dim light.
“Stay hidden, my wife. Even I cannot protect you from the evils of this night.” He shut the door between them, and the sound of the lock clicked into place.
Mina stood there for a moment, her heart pounding, her mouth dry.
She walked over to the window, clinging close to the wall so as not to be seen, and peered down below.
The courtyard was empty, and she might have thought she was imagining the sounds echoing through the castle if not for the sight of the gate raised and the glow of torchlight just outside it.
This couldn’t be a beast—this had to be a group of men, but who were they? What enemies did her husband have? And then, another thought took center stage—what would they do to her if they found her?
A sound echoed from the hall beyond the locked door and fear rippled through her chest. She looked around the room, her eyes landing on a large wooden armoire—should she hide there?
Was that too obvious? She looked toward the bed, wondering if she should slip beneath it instead.
But then she realized that there were so few places to hide in this room; if they entered, they’d be sure to find her either way.
She swallowed her fear, crossing the room and opening the doors of the armoire—it was empty of any clothing, and she climbed inside, tucking her legs up to her chest and trying to close the doors from inside.
There were no handles to grasp onto on this side, so she pulled the doors as closed as she could, leaving only a small gap.
Voices echoed through the castle, sounding distant but plentiful.
How many men were here? Ten? Twenty? Fifty?
How long had it taken them to come all this way, up this treacherous mountain?
But then she considered that whatever they were here for must have been a worthy cause for them to go through such turmoil—they would likely be tired, hungry, cold, and angry.
Her heart raced, and she tried to ease her mind by considering the vast number of doors in this castle, nearly all of them locked—surely the intruders wouldn’t kick down every single door?
For some time, she sat there, silent as could be, waiting.
The sounds grew louder, raising her pulse, and then they quieted, setting her at ease if only for a few moments.
She wondered where Sofia was—was she safe?
Hidden in her chambers? She wondered where the Count was, how one man could possibly defend himself against the many angry voices she’d heard spilling through the corridors.
And then, those voices grew louder again, closer, anger in their tones.
A loud thump made her gasp. She put her hand over her mouth, peering through the gap in the armoire doors. In the dark room beyond, she saw nothing.
Then came another thump.
The shouting came nearer, and then it seemed to disperse. She heard footsteps pass by the door, and she held her breath, desperate for them to carry on down the hall.
The door handle rattled.
A muffled voice came from beyond the door, the words in an unfamiliar language.
Her mouth went dry as the door shuddered in its frame. She pressed back against the armoire, heart pounding. There were only so many places to hide—if they got inside, they would find her.
A heavy thud struck the door.
The door burst inward, slamming hard against the stone wall beyond.
A deep voice filled the room, then another replied.
Nausea climbed her throat as she considered what they might do when they found her. She could see it in her mind’s eye—being thrown into this group of men, terrible things happening to her—possibilities where death would be a gift.
“Shh,” one of them said sharply.
The invaders went silent.
Mina held her breath, terrified that they’d heard her thunderous heart.
Moments passed, the men so quiet she might have convinced herself they’d simply vanished on the spot.
A guttural sound cut through the darkness.
A gasp of breath came next.
Then, something else. Mina couldn’t quite make out the sound, couldn’t visualize what might be happening just beyond the armoire.
And then a thud.
Mina waited, confusion mixing with the fear coursing through her. Was it the Count? Had he attacked these raiders? Was he still there now, waiting?
She listened, waiting to hear the footfalls of the victor.
The doors of the armoire swung open, evoking a yelp from Mina’s throat. She looked up into the darkness to see a shadowed figure before her. She stilled, frozen to the spot, but then she realized this was not a man, but a woman.
“Come with me,” the woman said, her voice low.
Mina did not move, her voice shaky as she said, “Please.” She swallowed, her mouth dry. “I don’t know anything about this.”
“Do you want to survive?” the woman asked, her voice firm. Mina nodded. “Then that is all you need to know. Come.” The shadow stepped back, giving Mina space to step out of the armoire.
Mina only stared, terrified that this was a trap—but what other choice did she have? She had been discovered, and she could either go with this woman and be taken right to the raiders, or go with this woman and hope she would help.
With a deep breath, Mina pushed herself over the edge of the armoire, her feet finding the cold floor of the dark room. Elsewhere in the castle, she could still hear the distant voices of men invading each hallway, each locked room.
Mina’s hands shook, her skin cold as the woman grasped her hand, leading her toward the doorway. It was only as they neared the door that Mina looked down and saw two shadows, large masses on the stone floor.
“Are they—”
“Shh,” the woman said softly. “This way.”
Mina swallowed back the nausea in her throat, following the woman through the darkness.
Had this woman killed those men? It seemed impossible given that Mina had not seen the shadow of a weapon in hand, though she supposed a knife could easily be slipped into a pocket.
But what kind of woman was this to be able to kill two men so swiftly with only a small knife, if that was what she’d used? And what did that mean for Mina’s fate?
As the woman led her through the maze-like corridors without even a candle flame to guide them, Mina considered running. But where would she go? And would she fare any better if those raiders were the ones who found her?
They reached a staircase, and blindly, Mina climbed, feeling her way up the steps.
Suddenly, the woman stopped, and Mina almost crashed into her before catching herself just in time.
The woman waited, and Mina fought the temptation to speak, to ask what she was doing, where they were going.
Wherever they were going, it seemed this woman could hear something Mina couldn’t.
Eventually, the stranger released Mina’s arm, the familiar click of a lock releasing through the air. A door groaned and Mina was pulled inside, the woman shutting the door quickly behind them and locking it once again.