Suddenly she was surrounded by the villagers, her fellow servants from the castle, and even Lord Plimmwald. They were all glaring at her with rage-filled eyes and smoke-stained faces.
“Forgive me. Please forgive me,” she kept saying. “I did my best. Help me find Jacob and Brigitta!”
But they pointed at her. Some spit at her. Others turned away in disgust.
Avelina sat up. The curtains were open, letting in the light from the fire in the fireplace.
Thornbeck. She was at the margrave’s castle, pretending to be Lady Dorothea. She sank back onto her pillow and squeezed her eyes closed, trying to shut out the awful dream.
“It was just a dream,” she whispered. Plimmwald was not burning. It was not being attacked. Her brother and sister were not in danger. No one blamed her for Geitbart attacking their town.
But it could happen. Perhaps the dream was a specter of the future. What was it the old women used to say? If you dreamed something three times it was bound to come true. Oh, Father God, please don’t let me dream it again.
Avelina and the other nine ladies bundled up in their warmest cloaks and various head coverings, left their maidservants behind, and went to the patch of ground in front of the stables where they were supposed to mount their horses and make their way down the castle mount to the walled town of Thornbeck, a short ride to the west.
As she walked beside Lady Magdalen, Avelina asked her if she was well.
“Very well. But will you laugh at me if I admit I miss my sisters and brother, and even my mother?”
“Of course not. If I had a mother, I should miss her, and I miss—” Avelina was about to say she missed her brother and sister too! Her face burned. Then she remembered—Lady Dorothea’s mother was also dead.
“Are you well?” Magdalen studied her.
“Oh yes.” Avelina laughed nervously. “I am very well.”
“Is there anyone you shall miss,” Lady Magdalen lowered her voice to a whisper, “should Lord Thornbeck choose to wed you?”
“I do not think he would ever choose me. But if I must wed someone far away, I suppose I would miss all the familiar faces of home.” She tried to think as Lady Dorothea would. “But I don’t suppose there is anyone I would miss enough to make me sad, as long as I was content with my husband.”
Magdalen looked thoughtful. “Lady Gertrudt has an older brother, the Duke of Wolfberg, who is unmarried and not betrothed to anyone.”
“Is he well looking?”
“We met once as children. I am looking forward to seeing him again at the first ball. He is coming so the ladies will have enough partners.”
As the stable boys were helping the other young ladies find their horses, Magdalen said, “May I tell you a secret? You must promise not to tell.”
“I will not tell.”
“Mother says if I don’t marry Lord Thornbeck, she may try to betroth me to the Duke of Wolfberg. His father died a few years ago and he is the only son. Although it is quite unlikely he would accept me, since I have no real fortune to bring to the marriage.”
Avelina did not have a chance to discuss the young man any further, because the stable boys approached with their two horses. The other young ladies were already mounted, and Lady Fronicka was talking to Lord Thornbeck. The margrave, who rode a large black horse, gave orders to four of his men, who were apparently accompanying them.
By the time Avelina and Magdalen had mounted their horses, most of the rest of the group had already started on the winding road that led down through the forest to the town.
Avelina’s horse suddenly began snorting and sidestepping.
“Is everything all right?” Magdalen asked.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” Avelina hung on to the reins and tried not to lose her balance. “I rode her all the way here from Plimmwald. She was very gentle.”
Wasn’t anyone noticing what was happening? The two guards who were supposed to bring up the rear were talking to each other and laughing. Should she call for help? Should she pull back on the reins or give the horse slack? What was wrong with her uncooperative horse?
Her horse screamed and raised her front legs in the air. Avelina clutched the mare’s mane, trying desperately not to fall off.
“Someone help!” Magdalen called. “Help us!”
Two stable boys ran toward them and tried to grab the reins, but Avelina’s horse pawed the air with her powerful hooves. The boys could not get close enough to reach the reins.
Avelina was losing her balance. Her grip on the horse was slipping, even as she was slipping from the saddle.