MB02 - A Noble Groom Read Online Free Page B

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    Carl scrutinized the outline of the face hidden within the folds of the hood. “Matthias?”
    “Shhh . . .” The man pulled a set of keys out of the deep pocket of his cloak, revealing his thick arms and hands.
    The bulky torso belonged to only one man—Matthias, his manservant, the one who had raised him from boyhood, the one who had been there for him far more than his father ever had.
    “It is you,” Carl whispered as relief burst through him.
    “We don’t have much time.” The keys jangled together muchtoo loudly, as if Matthias held a hundred of them instead of half a dozen. “We must hurry.”
    Suddenly Carl realized exactly what was happening and his heartbeat sped up.
    Matthias was freeing him.
    “What about the guard?”
    “He’s been called home for a family emergency.” Matthias twisted the key, and it scraped in protest as if hesitant to release its captive. “His sheep have all escaped from the pen.”
    “In the middle of the night?”
    “These kinds of accidents have been known to happen on occasion.” The older man’s voice carried the hint of humor Carl loved.
    He grinned. But just as quickly the grin dissipated. “If you free me, what shall I do, Matthias? Where shall I go?”
    The lock on the cell door finally clicked. Matthias swung it open, and the squealing of the rusty hinges was loud enough to raise the bones of the skeletons buried beneath the floor.
    “When the duke finds out about my escape, he’ll put a price on my head. I won’t be safe anywhere on the Continent.”
    Matthias cast a glance over his shoulder, then put a finger to his lips. “Let’s go. We will talk as we walk.”
    Carl didn’t resist when the older man motioned him forward. He had nothing to gather from the cell. He left as he’d entered, with only the clothes he wore—albeit they were much degraded from their original condition, rumpled and filthy with the stench of prison ingrained into every fiber.
    Instead of leading him down the corridor toward the entrance of the dungeon, Matthias ushered him in the opposite direction. “The servant assigned to replace the guard became stuck in the wardrobe,” Matthias whispered.
    “Stuck?” Another grin tugged at Carl’s lips.

    “Quite stuck.”
    He could only imagine. He had no doubt Matthias had plied the servant well ahead of time with enough beer to make it impossible for the man to remain at his post.
    “The troublesome door won’t hold him but a few minutes.”
    Carl ducked under a low beam, spider webs catching in the scruff that covered his normally clean-shaven face. “Since we’re headed away from the door, I’m suspecting there’s another way out of this place that I don’t know about.”
    “I always knew you were a bright boy.”
    When they reached the end wall of the dungeon with an empty cell on either side, they stopped. The dim light from the lone oil lamp hardly touched them.
    Matthias moved toward a coffin leaning against the wall. The medieval casket was covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs.
    His servant made a weak attempt to lift it away from the wall.
    “Let me help.” Carl stepped forward, gripped the cold stone, and strained to lift it. “I’d like to use the excuse that my body is weak from the lack of activity these past weeks, but you know as well as I do that I’m not an overly strong man.”
    Compared to the miners who swung their hammers in caverns deep in the earth, and the peasant farmers who labored in the fields, he was weak and thin. But he was after all a nobleman’s son and a scientist and had no need for the strength of the common man.
    He grunted, moving the coffin only a fraction. “What’s in this thing anyway?”
    “A stone statue of the Virgin Mother.” Matthias slid his hand along the wall behind the coffin as if searching for something.
    Carl wished he had time to pull off the lid and examine thestatue. But now was neither the time nor place for an art and history