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along with his distinctive pale hair, convinced Luke the youth must be related in some way to the pale-haired woman. So he took a chance.
    “Have you got a key to this door?”
    “There’s only one key, and King Garren keeps it.”
    Luke had feared as much. At least the boy seemed helpful. “How can I open the lock, then?”
    “I’ve triedit all the times I was locked in there. Never could get it without the key.”
    Only slightly discouraged, Luke tried to glean as much as he could quickly in case the youth was called away—or caught. “Is there a guard stationed at the base of the tower?”
    “Yes, but I brought him a drink earlier to help him sleep. He’s dozing now. That’s how I got past. I’d have brought you something to eat,but I didn’t think he’d be asleep so soon. I saw a chance and took it.” The youth peered at him curiously between the bars in the small opening in the door. “They say you’re a prince and a Christian.”
    Luke suddenly felt his heart beating hard, though he wasn’t sure precisely why. “That I am.”
    The boy whispered something. Luke couldn’t quite catch his words, but it sounded almost as thoughhe’d said, “So am I.”
    But before Luke could ask him to repeat himself, the boy spoke again. “I belong in the Holy Roman Empire. If I help you get out of here, can you help me get home?”
    Luke felt his sympathies soften immediately at the youth’s earnest request. “I would do everything in my power.”
    Suddenly the boy’s face brightened, and Luke had no question the two pale-haired servantsmust be related. The boy had Biddy’s smile.
    “And my sister, too. Can you help my sister escape from this place?”
    “Your sister.” Luke’s heart hammered inside him, and he fought the urge to barrage the boy with questions about the young woman. Instead, he agreed quickly. “I would gladly help her, as well.”
    “Good.” The boy shoved something long and pointed through the window to Luke.“This might be of some help to you.”
    Luke took the object—a rough sort of knife, probably fashioned by the boy himself out of a cast-off piece of metal. As he tried it in the lock, he started to inquire of the boy about his sister. But the youth had turned his attention to the stairs.
    “I shouldn’t tarry any longer. You should wait for darkness before you try to leave. Garren’s men drinkheavily at dinner. You’ll find your passage through the rest of the fortress much easier if you wait until after then.”
    “Thank you,” Luke whispered hurriedly as the boy retreated down the stairs. “And tell your sister not to worry about me.”
    He didn’t hear any response but listened carefully, breathing freely only after some time had passed without any sound that might indicate the youthhad gotten caught.
    Luke was glad for that. The boy had brought him a useful tool as well as valuable information about the guard below. It was sure to increase his chances of escaping.
    And just as certainly, Luke intended to do all he could to make good on his promise to help the slaves escape. The woman they called Biddy had saved his life. He owed them both.
    Rather than pick thelock now and risk discovery, Luke decided to wait until closer to sunset to make his bid for freedom. For now he leaned on the windowsill and looked out over the stunning vista. King Garren might have only used the view as bait to lure him to the tower, but indeed, the vista provided an unparalleled picture of the lands between Fier and Lydia. In the distance Luke could see a charred spot amidstthe woods—the tiny village of Bern, where he’d lain injured. The very spot where the pale-haired woman had saved his life.
    At the thought of her, Luke felt his stomach lurch, and he mulled the reason for his response. Granted, the woman was kind and lovely, gracious and gentle—all things a man might appreciate in a female. But she was also a slave. Any affection he felt toward her was meregratitude for the