"What on earth is the matter, your Majesty?" the Captain asked as he arrived in the stable yard, to find the king already mounting and gesturing to the assembled guardsmen to fall into line behind him.
Kit thrust the little scrap of paper at him. "She's alive, Captain! We must find her before it's too late."
Swallowing down a dozen questions in the face of the king's obvious haste, the Captain wasted no time in mounting his own steed, and leading the column out of the stable yard. As they broke into a fast canter down the palace avenue, he asked Kit, "Where did the note come from, Sire?"
"A friend brought it," he answered, with a rather secretive smile.
"Kit," the Captain said quietly, "if this is really true, if she is alive…"
"Then someone has deliberately been keeping her from me, lied to me about her death. Believe me, I won't rest until I know everything that has happened."
"Neither will I, Kit, neither will I." And with that, both the Captain and the King urged their steeds on more quickly.
As they crossed the bridge and rode hard for Little Wootton, Kit ran the words of Ella's short missive through his mind. Trapped and alone – surely not by accident? Imprisoned, then, and there could only be one person responsible, the same person who had told Lieutenant James about Ella's death and provided the letter and lock of hair as proof. What he could not understand was what Lady Tremaine hoped to gain by this deception. Yes, she clearly disliked Ella, mistreated her, even, but surely she and her daughters could only benefit from an alliance between her stepdaughter and the crown?
He turned the problem over in his mind a few times as they sped along the road, but he couldn't make the puzzle pieces fit together. Kit knew he was missing something; it was lurking at the back of his mind like a shadow, but he could not bring it into the light through the storm of emotion that was whirling through him. Frustrated, he pushed the problem aside. There would be time enough later to learn the full truth; at present there was only one priority, to find Ella and ensure her safety by any means necessary.
It took less than an hour for them to arrive at the old stone house. They all dismounted in the driveway, and Kit looked up at the rambling roses and overgrown garden, seeing for the first time the house in which Ella had grown up. The place looked utterly deserted. As Kit started for the entrance, he could hear the Captain directing some of the men to spread out and begin searching the garden and farm.
Kit banged loudly on the door. "Ella! Ella!" he called, but there was no answer. He tried the door handle but it was locked. The Captain came up behind him. "She must be in here. Open this door, for God's sake." He stepped back to allow several of the soldiers to assist the Captain. The old wood did not resist the combined efforts of their shoulders for long, and they all stumbled into the dimly lit hallway. Kit had a vague impression of painted walls and antique furniture.
"Spread out, search the house! Every room, every cupboard, leave no stone unturned," the Captain directed, and soldiers began to move through the lower floor.
"Wait, shhhh," Kit said, and everyone stopped moving in surprise. But Kit knew he had heard something. High-pitched squeaking was coming from the foot of the staircase. He moved closer and found that he was not very surprised to see four little house mice hopping up and down and squeaking loudly at him. He bent down, caring very little for what anyone would think, and spoke to them.
"Do you know where she is?"
The mice nodded, and then began sprinting up the bannister. Kit beckoned to the Captain, and together they followed the little animals, up, up, up through the house until they reached a locked door at the very top, under which the four mice disappeared. Kit, his heart in his mouth and breathing hard from the exertion of climbing the many stairs, peered through a crack in the door and caught a glimpse of blonde hair and blue dress, lying on the rough wooden floorboards.
"Ella!" he cried out, but there was no movement from her prone figure. He shoved his shoulder against the door, but it would not budge.
"Help me!" he shouted to the Captain who was coming up the stairs behind him with Lieutenant James. Together, they put their weight against the door, which creaked, bowed and then finally gave way, pitching all three of them headfirst into the attic room.
Kit raced over to Ella, lifting her prone body as he knelt down by her side and praying that he was not too late. Thank God, he felt a pulse, weak but still there. A slow breath lifted her chest as he cradled her to him. She was unconscious.
The Captain called down the stairs for some water, while Lieutenant James approached, stripping off his blue riding cloak and handing it to Kit to wrap around Ella's thin, frozen body. She was more emaciated than ever, her skin pale and dry and cold. He was dimly aware of the Captain kneeling on her other side.
"Ella. My love, my darling. I'm here. I won't ever leave you again," Kit whispered, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead with shaking lips. It seemed to rouse her a little; she took a deeper breath and her eyes fluttered open for a moment. She tried to form a word, but her lips were cracked and bleeding and she couldn't manage even a whisper. A cup of water appeared over his left shoulder and he held it to her lips, where she could take a little sip.
"Mr Kit," she breathed, her voice very faint. "You came." Then her eyes fluttered closed again.
Kit would never quite remember how he had managed to carry her down the long stairs, though the Captain later teased him that he had been quite possessive about doing it himself. It was a good thing that his friend was there to organise a carriage, and send one of the guardsmen to summon the royal physician, as Kit was unable to think of anything other than holding Ella in his arms, trying to warm her with his body-heat next to the fire that had been hastily lit in the parlour. She didn't regain consciousness again, but he felt her nestle more closely into him as the warmth reached her limbs. Thankfully the men gave them some privacy, but four little mice and two little bluebirds perched on the chair by the fire and kept watch with him.
