And now she was letting her emotions get control of her yet again, this time in response to Sir Gerard. She was hopelessly flawed, apparently.
The wind was picking up even more, cutting through her layers of clothing like a cold lash. They were surely in for a blizzard.
Six
Gerard hadn’t had much experience with snow, having spent his childhood and years of training in the more southerly regions of England. But he’d once heard an old knight tell of getting lost in a snowstorm in northern Scotland. He said he couldn’t see a foot in front of him. One of the old knight’s companions froze to death. They found him the next morning very close to shelter, but he hadn’t been able to see it in the blinding, blowing snow. Considering how dark the clouds were and how cold the wind was, Gerard could hardly doubt they were in for the same kind of snowstorm.
A few minutes later, the snowflakes began to fall—big, fat ones that stuck to his face. Princess Elyce had been sitting up straighter, but now she turned and buried her face in his shoulder. And in spite of himself, he found the action endearing. Indeed, there was something about her that made him want to protect her.
He knew she was spoiled and used to having her own way. And yet . . . there was nowhere he’d rather be than here, holding her, feeling her forehead resting against his shoulder, knowing he was keeping her warm and safe.
He was a knight. It was his duty to help others, to defend the weak, to uphold justice. And as far as he could tell, Princess Elyce’s cause was noble. She wanted to save her people from an unfair fate. He could admire her for that.
Despite the cold and danger, the snow was beautiful as it fell, creating a white, soft, muffled world. And soon it had covered their tracks and any sign of the direction they had taken.
The snow rose higher on the ground. The horses seemed to deal with it rather well, as it even seemed to help, rather than hinder, their ability to keep their footing on the slick rocks and high terrain. But his wonder at the beauty of the snow soon disappeared as the wind began to blow harder, driving the flakes like tiny steel pellets, stinging his cheeks and his hands. In no time he could barely see his horse’s ears right in front of him.
“We need to find shelter.” Sir Oswalt was in the lead, but he slowed his horse and moved alongside Gerard.
“Where is Ysabeau?” The princess lifted her head and looked around.
Ysabeau was on their other side, quite close. She was visibly shivering.
“We do need to find shelter,” the princess agreed, looking up at him.
“Did you and Jacob know of a place to stay along this route?”
“Jacob said there were trappers’ cabins in the mountains and that we could sleep in those if it was too cold to remain outside.”
“It is definitely too cold for remaining outside.” But there was no way they would be able to see a cabin, even if there were a dozen of them. Finding a cave or outcropping was also futile in this blowing snow. But he didn’t want anyone to panic or give up hope, so he said, “We’ll surely come upon some shelter soon, or perhaps this storm will end.”
Instead of arguing with him, as he half expected her to, she nodded and went back to hiding her face against his chest.
He turned to Sir Oswalt, having to raise his voice to be heard over the howling winds. “Any idea where we might find shelter?”
His friend shook his head. “And we only have an hour or two before nightfall.”
They were too high on the mountain for any trees to grow. They seemed to have reached a ridge that was straight and flat, but either side went straight down. If they lost their way or could not see the path, they could easily fall off the side of the mountain. But if their horses stopped now, the animals would surely freeze to death. So they kept moving.
God, I know You see us here on this freezing mountain. You couldn’t have sent me here, or put it into Princess Elyce’s heart to save her people, only to let us freeze to death.
But what if He had? What if God had a reason for letting them perish? Or what if Gerard and the princess had been following their own foolish notions instead of God’s will?
That kind of thinking was not like him and would lead to nothing good. God had given him a vision, and he’d given Princess Elyce a just cause, and God had a plan to sustain them.
He strained his eyes for something, anything ahead. He could see nothing but whiteness, hear nothing but the rushing of the wind. Then the path started to slope downward for the first time, a welcome prospect. Would they find themselves on the leeward side, which would shelter them from the wind? But they would still be too cold. They needed shelter.
They needed a miracle.
Darkness was overtaking them. Princess Elyce’s head lolled against his chest with the movement of the horse. She’d fallen asleep some time ago. He’d heard of men falling asleep in the cold and never waking. But as long as he and his horse were alive, there should be enough warmth to keep the princess from freezing to death.
He glanced around at Sir Oswalt and Ysabeau. They were very close and yet he could barely see them through the swirling snow and the darkness that was descending on them.
Gerard squinted. Was he seeing a flash ahead? Or was it his imagination? He strained his eyes but did not see the light again. His horse kept plodding forward, but his head was bowed. How much longer could he go on?
And then Gerard heard a sound. Metal on metal, a tiny clanging that was growing louder.
Gerard’s horse whinnied and drew up just before hitting a wooden wall. The abrupt movement startled Princess Elyce awake, and she turned to glance back at him.
He dismounted, careful not to pull the princess off while she leaned forward and held on to the horse’s mane. Sir Oswalt was beside him. The clanging sound was being made by several pieces of metal, beaten thin, tied together and hanging on a door.
Gerard knocked—or pounded, more like. He kept pounding, but no one answered. He seized the latch and pulled it free, then opened the door. He walked into the dark room with his palm on the handle of his knife, which was sheathed in his belt.
“Anyone here? We are travelers seeking shelter.”
Sir Oswalt came in on his heels, and they managed to light a lantern that was next to the door.
They looked around. Furs and pelts were stacked everywhere, but there was no sign of a person.
They went back out and motioned for Ysabeau, who had dismounted from her horse. The princess was trying to get off the horse but was struggling. Gerard reached up and, placing his hands on either side of her waist, helped her the rest of the way down.
“Thank you,” she said, getting her feet under her. He kept an arm around her, holding on to her elbow, while she leaned against him, for once not protesting his help. Perhaps she was starting not to despise him quite so much.
When she was inside, he and Oswalt led the four horses into the house, which made it quite crowded. Then he noticed a second room. He could barely see inside it, but once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized it was a small area with hay, a stable that opened into the house. They led the horses into it.
The women wrapped their arms around each other and shivered.
“I’m sorry that you will have to share the house with the horses,” Gerard said, “but they would freeze if we left them outside.”
They both looked up at him with tired faces. Princess Elyce said, “Of course. The horses need shelter too.”