Rescuing Rapunzel (5 page)

Only once had I asked Mother if I could cut some of the length. After Mother slapped me, she had chosen to remind me what it felt like when even a small portion of the hair was cut–and then proceeded to cut off enough to wrap around her thrice for a thick belt.

I could barely hold my head up for two days the pain had been so great.

I shuddered at the memory. Though I always wished my hair gone on braiding days, such an action might very well kill me.

Humming to distract myself, I watched the lightning bugs dance in the air–a wondrous accompaniment to the tune. Soon I was singing outright, smiling with every note, amazed the bugs seemed to be in perfect time with my song. My face did not ache as much as it had before and my singing took on a dreamy tone as I lost myself in my work and the soft glow of the bugs. I was just getting the last braid fastened, when I saw a shadow on the wall directly opposite my window.

I froze, fingers knotted in my hair.

Perhaps it was just an animal. The shadow moved to the right.

My heart pounded. I caught a glint of blue and my breath hitched in my chest.

He paused, standing at full height atop the wall and staring at me once again, though I doubted there was much to see. The light inside my room would not have cast much illumination. Yet he saw me. My hands trembled, and I fumbled for something, anything. My hairbrush lay on the windowsill. What I could do with it, I knew not, but I held it tight, just the same.

He had come back.

He was not a figment of my imagination. He existed, and he was here.

I put my hand over my mouth. Inside, my body was as energized as if I had drunk a quart of Mother’s special tea. In one moment, I wanted to cry out, to sing in joy, because he was real. In the next, I was utterly terrified of him, for I knew not what brought him here. I wanted him to go away. I wanted him to stay as he was, wanted to make out every line, work out every detail of him.

He did not move at first, then pushed back the hood of his riding cloak and there was moonlight enough to see his face. To gleam off the line of his jaw. To frame the width of his shoulders. The cloak blew against him in the breeze, swirling around him as if it wanted to touch him.

In a word, he was magnificent.

I could not break my stare, and a blush filled my face. I started to turn from the window when he moved. He raised his arm in a wave. Before I could think about what I did, I waved back. His waving increased in fervor and I could not help a burst of laughter. I may have been silly, but I was not a fool. He really did exist. He really did.

With a thud, my chamber door slammed open and Mother came in. “Rapunzel, what is all this noise?” She headed straight for the window.

I resumed my braiding as though nothing had happened.

Mother was not deceived.

“Rapunzel!” She jerked me to my feet and slapped me across the jaw with her cold fingers. Again. I reeled from the blow, stumbling to the ground.

“I was laughing,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. “I laughed at the lightning bugs.”

Mother glared out the window. “What lightning bugs?”

I stood, slowly padding to the window, dizzy from the slap. When I reached the window, I dug my fingers into the sill to keep from falling and scanned the shadows for the telltale flicker of blue. To no avail.

“They were just there,” I said, sighing.

“There is nothing there.” Mother’s voice was flat and cold.

“But I saw them,” I said, knowing I had seen the bugs before. I had seen the bugs, as well as the boy. Both were real. “They appeared to me to be dancing…it was so magical, I could not help but laugh.”

Mother merely glared out the window.

My heart hammered once more, but for very different reasons this time. I prayed the boy was smart enough to stay out of sight until Mother was gone.

It seemed an extremely long time that Mother examined the night sky, looking for lightning bugs.

“They are gone.” She turned back to me.

“They were just there.” I stepped away from her, trying to not seem to be doing so, even though inside my heart slammed in my chest. “Who can guess the path of a bug?”

There was a long silence as Mother examined me, then she seemed to relent. “Who indeed?” She crossed the room to the door, pausing as she opened it. She studied me before speaking, and the intensity of her stare made me shiver. “I am leaving tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mother,” I said, though disappointment welled in my chest. I did not want to be left alone again so soon.

Mother made to go through the door, then paused once more. “Rapunzel?”

“Yes?” I said, my heart leaping as suddenly as it had fallen. Perhaps this time she would stay. Perhaps she would allow me to accompany her…

“Fix your hair,” Mother said. “You are a mess.”

I nodded, though all desire to fuss with my hair was gone and my head still throbbed. I reached for the small satchel of rocks I kept in the corner of my room. They remained cool to the touch and I pressed them to my jaw.

As I lay down to sleep, flashes of bright blue danced in my mind’s eye, and I dreamed of the boy who had stood on my wall.

Chapter 8

Nick entered the inn, panting. The smell of food made his stomach grumble, which only added to his exhaustion. He had not ridden that hard in a long while.

The inn bustled with patrons, men and women of all walks of life having a meal and speaking to one another. It took Nick a moment to find his two friends. Bryan and Penn were at a table in the corner, each drinking a stein of ale and smiling over something. Possibly the serving wench with her bosom spilling out of her dress.

Nick made his way over, giving the curvy barmaid a cursory glance as he dropped into the chair. The woman’s fiery red hair did make her stand out in the darkness of the inn.

“Nick,” Bryan said, nodding at him.

Penn shoved his stein at him and Nick drank the remainder of the ale with relish. “My thanks.” His friends were staring at him–Bryan looking intrigued, Penn bored.

“I need to speak with you,” Nick told them.

“You just got here,” Penn said. “Relax, have a bite. You look like hell.”

“Climbing walls and riding hard will do that to you,” Nick replied.

“So you saw her again?” Penn asked.

Bryan smiled and smacked Penn’s arm. “Told you he would.”

Penn let out a sigh and tossed some coin on the table. “I should know better than to bet against you.”

“You two were supposed to help me,” Nick grumbled.

“We did. We helped by securing this table,” Penn said. “We knew you would be hungry.”

Nick rolled his eyes.

“So you found a way in?” It was just like Bryan to change the subject. Keep the peace.

“No,” Nick replied.

“Did you not hear him? He said he was climbing the walls. Obviously he did not find a door.” Penn picked up Bryan’s cup but took only one sip before slamming it back down on the table. “You need more too,” he muttered, waving at the serving wench.

“I would not if you did not drink mine.” Bryan looked into his glass. “It is still half full.”

“Which means it is half empty,” Penn replied. “You need more…”

Nick opened his mouth to stem the argument but the serving wench appeared. “More ale for ye, m’lord?”

“Yes please,” he replied, forcing a smile on his face. “What is the finest thing in the kitchen tonight?”

“The stew is fresh,” she said, passing a sultry gaze over him. “But the finest thing we offer is right here, m’lord.” She put her hand on her curvy hip, jutting it out saucily.

Nick raised his eyebrow. “As appreciated as the offer is, redheads are more to…” Out the corner of his eye, he saw Bryan stiffen in his chair. “…the Lord von Thalunburg’s taste.” He tipped his head toward Bryan.

“Is that so, m’lord?” She sauntered around the table toward Bryan, but did not touch him, standing between Penn and Bryan.

“And what about ye fine nobles?” she asked, leaning toward them.

Penn smiled at her. “Another ale would be splendid,” he said. “And maybe later…” He raised his eyebrow as he gazed down her torso.

The woman laughed. “A naughty one ye are,” she said, then faced Bryan. “And ye, m’lord?”

Nick bit his tongue to keep from laughing as she pressed her hip against Bryan’s chair.

Bryan froze, his eyes dilating as she leaned over, displaying her ample bosom. “Uh. Well. I…” He stared at what she offered him, his cheeks darkening, and his hand twitched toward her. The stein he had been drinking from went flying, right onto the wench’s dress.

“M’lord!” She grabbed the stein and shoved herself away from Bryan.

“Oh, uh. I am…” Bryan jerked out a handkerchief and attempted to blot away the worst of it, though his hands shook as he touched her.

Penn almost fell out of his seat laughing. “He will have another ale.”

Nick let out a laugh as the barmaid took off. While he and Penn got control of themselves, Bryan looked ready to murder them both.

“You truly are evil,” Bryan snarled at Nick, attempting to pat the leftover ale off the table with his now useless handkerchief. His hands were still trembling and he almost vibrated with embarrassed rage.

Penn pulled out his own handkerchief and helped him. “You really need to relax around women, Count.”

Bryan’s eyes narrowed as he threw the soaked handkerchief on the table. “Horse’s arse,” he muttered.

“Who?” Penn asked.

“Both of you,” Bryan replied, the tips of his ears dark. The dim light in the inn hid the more obvious signs of his embarrassment, but Nick knew Bryan well. It was probably cruel of him to encourage the wench, but he knew Bryan loved women as much as Penn. He had just never learned to properly woo them.

The wench returned with the ales and his bowl of stew, though she gave Bryan a wide berth.

“Thank you,” Nick said.

Penn snagged his drink. “Greatly appreciated.” He ran his gaze over her again. “And the offer stands…”

She blushed and set Bryan’s drink in front of him.

Bryan took the cup and nodded his thanks. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out far more coin than necessary to pay for the drinks and put it on the table for her. She eyed him for a moment but said nothing as she scooped up the coins and tucked them into her pocket. Bryan let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing, and sunk a few inches in his chair.

He glared across the table at Nick. “You owe me.”

Nick smirked as he took another bite of stew. It really was quite good, despite the worn appearance of the inn. The three sat in silence for a few moments, Nick eating, the others lost in thought and their steins.

“If you cannot speak to them,” Penn said, sipping his ale, “then do not. Women like men of few words.”

“Arse,” he muttered then glanced at Nick, his face less red than it had been a few moments before. “So you did find the entrance?”

Nick swallowed a bite of his stew and patted his mouth with the rag they claimed was a napkin. He shook his head. “There is nothing aside from the window at the top of the tower. I am still not sure how one would get in.”

“Rope must be lowered,” Penn said, with his eyes still on the serving wench.

Nick nodded, for he had drawn the same conclusion. The image of the tower–and Rapunzel in the window, bruised and swollen–arose again. His fingers tightened compulsively on the stein.

“We have to help her.”

“Before we can get her out, we need to know how to get in,” Bryan said. “We should go back, watch the property.”

Nick agreed. “There must be a way in.”

“Maybe a secret passage,” Bryan mused.

"However it is done,” Nick said, “it must be done. And soon.”

“You are very determined,” Penn said softly.

Nick nodded. “She was not well cared for.”

Bryan tipped his head to the side. “Why do you assume so?”

“I heard the slaps.”

The two friends’ expressions went stony and Nick knew he had them. They would do whatever they could to rescue Rapunzel, no matter the difficulties involved. No matter that the Black Forest lay outside their territories. They all took the protection of women very seriously. No man of honor would allow a woman to be harmed while he stood idly by.

Penn set down his drink. “We will go tomorrow. Ride out to the tower and retrieve the girl.”
 

Nick shook his head. “I would like to approach her first. Speak to her, if I can.”

“Why?” Bryan asked. “She must not be left to such treatment.” His face was white and his fists clenched.

Bryan knew from experience how women could be broken by fists and cruel words. If Nick allowed it, Bryan would be on his horse within moments, intent on storming the tower. With or without the others. He had been known to intervene if he saw a woman mistreated on the streets of Thalunburg Province.

“Bryan is right,” Penn said. “Why wait? We can haul her out and take her back to your castle with relative ease.”