‘Take this.’ He thrust a food bundle at Rodrigo. ‘Save it for later.’
‘Later?’ Rodrigo frowned. ‘Inigo, what in hell’s going on?’
‘Enrique’s in trouble again.’ Inigo said, hauling himself into the saddle.
‘Madre mía, this must stop. Last time we rushed to Enrique’s rescue, Diego died. Cousin or no, I’ve no wish to see him again.’
Inigo nodded. Diego’s death had upset him, and he could only begin to imagine the depth of Rodrigo’s grief. What must it be like to lose a beloved younger brother? His jaw tightened. ‘We have no choice.’
Rodrigo’s expression was bleak. ‘Don’t we? Enrique never learns, as far as I’m concerned, he can stew in his own juice.’
‘Not this time.’
‘What’s he done?’
‘He’s drunk.’
Rodrigo looked at him. ‘Is that all? Good grief, given the conditions we’ve endured, you can hardly blame him for that.’ He glanced meaningfully at the tavern. ‘I wouldn’t mind a drink myself.’
‘If only it were as simple as that,’ Inigo said. Trusting Rodrigo and the squires to follow, he dug in his spurs and cantered on to the road that led back to the Alhambra Palace. The lights of the inn fell back, they would have to rely on the moon.
Rodrigo soon caught up. ‘Slow down, man. What’s going on?’
‘Enrique’s been muttering about revenge all day. Wants to make the Sultan pay for treating us like slaves.’
Rodrigo swore. ‘There’s no way he can get to Sultan Tariq, the palace is a fortress and he rarely leaves it. Not to mention that entire battalions answer to the Sultan’s command and we are in his heartlands. Leave it, Inigo. My cousin can get himself out of the mire this time.’
Inigo grimaced. ‘You wouldn’t be so sanguine if you knew what he was planning.’
‘Surprise me.’
‘He’s going to abduct the Sultan’s daughters.’
‘What? That’s insane.’
‘I assure you, it’s true. Enrique’s going to lure them out of that tower.’
‘They’d never leave the palace.’
Inigo raised his eyebrows and, voice filled with doubt, Rodrigo repeated himself. ‘No, they’d surely never leave the palace.’
‘Rodrigo, hear me out. Enrique has made contact with someone inside the palace, a maidservant or duenna of some kind, I believe. It’s already arranged. The Princesses want to run away. They’re to meet your cousin tonight.’
‘What? We’ve only been released a day, how on earth has Enrique managed to organise it in that time?’
‘He didn’t give me any more details.’
‘You’re certain it’s tonight?’
‘That’s what he said. Rodrigo, your cousin’s a madman when the drink is in him.’
Rodrigo grunted in acknowledgement. ‘Unfortunately, he’s a madman with a will of iron.’
‘Well, he’s after vengeance tonight, and he’s decided the Sultan’s daughters will give it to him. I’ve never seen him quite so set on anything.’
‘I’ll thrash him when I see him,’ Rodrigo said curtly. ‘Those Princesses are very young. Sheltered. What do you reckon he’s after, ransom? You don’t think he’d harm them?’
Inigo gave a harsh laugh. ‘His reputation with women is not good.’
‘He’s a married man.’
‘Don’t make the mistake of judging your cousin by your standards. Enrique is roaring drunk and he wants revenge.’
A muscle flickered in Rodrigo’s jaw. ‘If my cousin carries off just one of the Sultan’s daughters, he could set off a minor war. And I’m not just referring to here in Al-Andalus. If Enrique’s father-in-law believes my cousin has slighted his daughter by carrying off a Nasrid princess, he will never forgive him. Enrique must be stopped. When did he set out?’
‘He’d gone when I got here. The innkeeper says he left about an hour ago.’
‘I take it he took his squire with him?’
‘Aye.’
Inigo and Rodrigo gave their horses the spur and they and their squires flew into the night.
In the grounds of the Alhambra Palace
The night of the Princesses’ escape had arrived. Leonor and Alba were leading the way even though they had never been in this part of the grounds. The iron gate that marked the entrance to the disused sally port had been almost impossible to find in the dark, and the gardens were so quiet all Alba could hear was her own breathing, fast and flurried. Despite the warmth of the night, she shivered as she peered into the secret tunnel to the outside.
A few yards in, a torch flickered and hissed. Beyond the torch, a gloomy corridor ran deep into the earth. Alba had heard mutterings about this tunnel. Some said it was a secret passageway into the palace, others that it was an escape route for previous sultans fleeing murderous relatives. This last might well be true, many of her father’s predecessors had had their lives cut short by ambitious brothers. Her nails dug into her palms. Whatever its use, the passage smelt dank and looked terrifying. Shadowed and seemingly without end, it couldn’t have been used for centuries.
This was their route to freedom? Was it safe?
It was certainly narrow. Alba hated confined spaces, normally nothing would persuade her to set foot in a tunnel like this. Unfortunately, life in the palace had become intolerable. The sally port was her only way out. God was good though, and the rusting iron gate on the palace side was open, as her duenna, Inés, had promised.
There would be no turning back.
Alba had no regrets. No, that wasn’t entirely true. She deeply regretted having to leave Hunter, her pet monkey, behind. She’d had to do it though, Hunter was exuberant and far too noisy to come with them. He would have given them away in a heartbeat. Alba had wept when she left him in the care of a maidservant.
Another regret was the songbirds. The Sultan had given each of the Princesses a pair of songbirds in a gilded cage. Earlier that evening, Alba had released hers into the wild. Like her, they must take their chances away from the palace. Leonor, too, had freed her songbirds, Constanza had not. A maidservant would care for Constanza’s birds.
In the flare of the flickering torch, Alba noticed the tremble of Leonor’s veil. Perversely, it gave her heart to see that her brave older sister was unnerved.
‘Where’s Constanza?’ Leonor whispered. ‘We can’t leave without her.’
‘She’s just behind, stop fretting. She’ll follow us, she always does,’ Alba said.
Alba had often wondered if she and her sisters were close because they were triplets or because they had been brought up together. Had the Sultan’s policy of isolating them from the rest of the world, indeed, of isolating them from almost everyone except for a handful of servants and their beloved Spanish duenna strengthened the bond between them? The three Princesses ate together, they laughed together, they cried together. They would escape together too. Once in Spain, they would start anew. Together.
Alba gave Leonor a gentle push. ‘Hurry, for pity’s sake, Father’s guards are everywhere.’