Flight From Blithmore by Jacob Gowans Read Free Book Online Page A

to get. Her mother
drank two large mouthfuls from her goblet and coughed up half of it. Isabelle
wiped her mother’s mouth with a towel and eased her back down to the bed. She
said a silent prayer, begging God to spare her mother.
    “Part
of my marriage agreement states that my first heir is my spouse. Under the laws
of Blithmore, it cannot be willed to anyone else unless your father agrees. I
had five lawyers review this.”
    “Unless
he opens the coffer and finds nothing there?”
    Lady
Oslan smiled. Her eyes became dim. “You must do it quickly—before your father
returns. If the money is gone, it will be believed that I spent it. He can do
nothing about that. You will need help moving it, and Norbin is too old.”
    “Norbin
and I can manage a thousand crowns together.”
    Lady
Oslan coughed and shook her head. Isabelle offered more water, but her mother
declined. “The coffer holds over fifteen hundred double crowns.”
    Isabelle
reeled backward. “Mother! That’s enough money—”
    “To
build Henry a second woodshop and furnish it. That’s why he must have it. I
gave your father the choice: a thousand crowns and allow you to marry Henry, or
never see the money again.” Lady Oslan’s face paled. Isabelle finally realized
her mother’s death was near. “Henry has so much talent. I am sure . . .
wherever you go, you’ll be fine. The coffer is buried at the hedge. Only Norbin
knows exactly where.”
    Isabelle’s
tears fell as she clenched her mother’s hand to prevent Death’s pull. Lady
Oslan’s face tightened into an awful grimace. Seeing her mother in such pain
crumbled Isabelle’s spirit.
    “Isabelle.”
Lady Oslan had to whisper between breaths. “Isabelle, if you wish . . . to be
with Henry . . . you must get the chest . . . before your father returns home.
Do you understand me, Isabelle? You must—before he returns. He often looks in
on me, checking to see if—if I’m—He has plans, ideas, and if you give him time,
he will make your life more miserable than he made mine.”
    “I
will, Mother,” she answered through her cries, “even if Norbin has to bar the
door, but I won’t leave your side right now.”
    Lady
Oslan’s face grew more wrinkled, and for a moment Isabelle felt her mother’s
surge of agony. “Thank you, Isabelle,” she muttered softly. “I am glad your
father is away, but—but I wish James were here.”
    “Me,
too.” With her free hand, Isabelle put a cool cloth on her mother’s head. “Are
you comfortable, Mother?”
    Lady
Oslan squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “Tell me again how your wedding will
look.”
    Isabelle
calmed herself and then began to describe in detail her dreams for her wedding
ceremony. She talked about her gown, the flowers she would put in her hair and
around her wrists, and what Henry would wear. Then she explained how she wanted
James to give her away, and sang to her mother the bridal song she would sing
to Henry. As she finished the song, her mother’s breathing quickened and the
trembling in her hands lessened until they were far toostill. Hope left
Isabelle, and she tried to accept her mother’s death. “I will miss you,
Mother,” she whispered. “Don’t go. Don’t leave.”
    “No,
no, it’s alright . . . we’ll be together again.” Lady Oslan’s voice was barely
louder than a breeze. Then her eyes lost their focus, and with her last breath,
she said, “Tell James to climb the windy side.”

 
     
     
     
    Seven -
    The Coffer
     
     
    Isabelle
opened her mouth to ask her mother what that strange last utterance meant, but Lady
Oslan’s eyes softly closed and her chest rose no more. A tiny sound of surprise
left Isabelle’s mouth, and she gasped for air as her vision began to darken and
blur. Her anguish in that moment was tortuous. She thought she would cry for
hours before being able to calm down, but she underestimated her own strength.
Something inside her, a spot of warmth, began deep in her chest. The warmth
spread