by E. D. Baker
“I have, one way or another,” said the boy. “My name is Jim.”
“I’m Audun,” he replied. “I’m pleased to meet you, Jim. But should you really be telling all these things to a stranger?”
Jim shrugged. “Why not? No one cares what someone like me thinks. To most of the people here, I’m practically invisible unless they need me for something. You will be, too, once you stop gawking and making yourself obvious. Just act like you’ve been here for years and know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Good point,” said Audun. “I’ll have to try harder.”
“You do that,” Jim said, backing away. “See you around,” he added.
Audun watched as Jim slipped through the crowd without anyone looking his way. People in the Great Hall made him feel uncomfortable, so he followed Jim’s suggestion and tried to act like he knew what he was doing as he started to leave the room. He had almost reached the door when it occurred to him that the Great Hall might be just the place to find the girl, since it seemed that nearly everyone passed through it. Instead of leaving, he walked to the wall as if to inspect a tapestry that he’d seen from a distance, intending to watch the comings and goings from the side of the room.
The sound of a scuffle in the middle of the Hall drew his attention. Jim was on his knees, cleaning up spilled ale. The same pages who had mocked Audun were now gathered around Jim, calling him names and trying to push him over with their feet.
“The filthy pig reeks! He’d do well to dump that water on himself, not the floor.”
“Maybe we should help him. Hand me the bucket, Ronald, and we’ll give him a bath!”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Audun, putting his hand on the page’s shoulder. “No one deserves to be treated like that.”
“Who are you to talk to me that way?” asked the page. “You’re new, but I can tell from your clothes that you’re just a servant. You shouldn’t even be talking to me. I’ll report you and see that you get punished for this.”
“Really?” said Audun. “And while you’re reporting me, you should add that you were trying to keep another servant from doing his job, and because you both live off the king’s treasury, you’ve been wasting the king’s money. Just how kindly do you think he’d feel about that?”
“Why I . . . We were just . . .”
“I thought so,” said Audun. “If you don’t like the way someone smells, then stay away from him.” Nodding to each of the boys, Audun walked away, leaving the pages staring.
“We’d better get out of here,” Jim said, tagging along at Audun’s side. “They could easily change their minds and report you.”
Audun shrugged. “I’m not afraid of them.”
“Maybe not,” said Jim. “But I am. I appreciate what you did. No one has stood up for me for a long time, but I’m afraid this will only make things worse. Take my advice and steer clear of them. That’s what I do.” The boy gave Audun a pat on the arm, leaving a dirty handprint, then ran off through the door leading from the Great Hall.
Audun was disappointed in himself. He shouldn’t have butted into a conversation that didn’t involve him if he didn’t want to be noticed. But then, he couldn’t just let those older boys pick on Jim. It was getting harder and harder for him to blend in. Someone was sure to ask questions about him if he kept drawing attention this way. Taking Jim’s advice, Audun left the Great Hall.
He drifted through the corridors, learning his way around the castle while keeping an eye out for the girl, but when the light outside the narrow windows began to fade, he followed the scent of cooking food to the kitchen. Audun was a door away when he once again heard familiar voices and peeked into a room just off the kitchen. Nearly a dozen people were seated at a long table and among them were some of the men who had sat with him in the waiting room that very morning. Seeing Audun in the doorway, one of them called out, “So you got a job, too! Congratulations! Come in and join us.”
When the man slid over to make room for him, Audun took a seat, not knowing how to refuse.
“I’m John, and the ugly cuss on your other side is Gib,” said the man who’d moved over. “What job did you get?”
“I’m working for the steward,” said Audun, as he accepted a platter from a pretty girl with freckles and a friendly smile. Although supper wouldn’t be served for over an hour in the Great Hall, the servants who would be doing the serving there were already sharing their meal with a few friends and acquaintances.
“Lucky you!” laughed John. “I’m a server, until I find something better. I didn’t know it until I got here, but my brother Patrik got his old job back. He’s head baker and the best one this castle has ever seen. Here, try some of his bread. Then tell him how good it is. That’s him in the doorway.”
Dragons don’t eat much besides meat and fish, but Audun took a small hunk of bread and bit into it, just to be polite. The outside was crusty while the inside was soft and chewy, much like an oyster. He thought it was probably very good, if you liked bread, so he had no problem calling, “It’s delicious!” to the man in the kitchen doorway.
Patrik grinned and nodded, making Audun feel as if he’d finally done something right. No one seemed to notice that he didn’t finish the bread, although they made comments about how much sausage he was able to eat.
Seated with the new people were servants who had been there during King Cadmus’s reign. Audun learned that although the king, his family, and many of his nobles had run away or been killed, many of the servants who had stayed behind had continued working in the same jobs they’d held before.
As Audun listened to the conversations around him, it was the older servants who proved to be the most informative. While some gossiped about the love lives of their fellow servants and others talked about members of the nobility who had recently moved in, it was the woman seated at the end of the table who really sparked his interest. “I don’t care what you say about Princess Gabriella. She doesn’t hold a candle to my little Shanna! I was nursemaid to all four of Queen Floradine’s babies and was there when the good queen died at Shanna’s birth. That little one stole my heart. It was nearly the death of me when I heard that the poor darlings were lost in the desert.”
“She doesn’t seem very upset now,” Audun whispered to John.
Gib must have heard him, because he leaned closer and whispered, “There are rumors that the children still live. They say that those rumors are all that keep her going. Meg couldn’t stop crying the day they disappeared. We all thought their uncle Dolon had had them executed, but no one does that and then spends so much time looking for them.”
A man on the other side of Gib nudged the woman beside him and whispered something in her ear. She glanced toward the doorway and her mouthed crinkled in distaste. Audun let his gaze follow hers and was surprised to see Jim. When Audun smiled, the boy waved a greeting, but didn’t cross the threshold until Meg called, “Come in, boy. Look at you! You’re all skin and bones. I’ve seen boiled chicken bones with more meat on them than you have. Patrik, serve up a plate for our Jim, won’t you, please, darlin’?”
“He’ll do it, too, seeing that Meg asked,” Gib whispered to Audun. “Patrik has been sweet on Meg for years. He told me all about her long before I ever came to the castle.”
“Wouldn’t he give the boy a plate, anyway?” asked Audun.
Gib shook his head. “No one goes near the boy if they can help it, except Meg, that is. The rest of us stay away from him and he stays away from us. Get a good whiff of him and you’ll know why.”
Audun watched as one of the scullery maids handed a plate to Jim. The boy ducked his head and whispered his thanks, but the maid had already hurried away, holding her nose. Jim sighed and took the plate to the corner, where he sat on the floor with his back to the wall and tore the meat with his teeth. Audun decided that the boy must be ravenous.
“What about Davie?” asked someone farther down the table. “Any word on how he’s doing?”
<
br /> “Dolon beat him the night before last when the poor man was slow to refill the tankards at the head table,” Gib told Audun. “No one’s seen him since.”
Smithson shook his head. “It wasn’t Davie’s fault that he was late. It was his turn to take the food to the south tower. You know he has a soft spot for those orphans, locked away waiting for their families to come for them. He always dawdles when he goes there. We’ve been shorthanded,” he said, glancing at the new servants. “It’ll be better now that you’re here.”
“What’s this about orphans?” asked another man who had also been hired that day.
“After he took over the city,” said Gib, “Dolon had his soldiers go through the streets, looking for orphans from wealthy families. The children were brought here to the castle. He said it was so he could take care of them, but he locked them in the south tower and sent word to their relatives that they should come fetch them. He told the head cook that we weren’t to give them but the smallest portions of food. ‘Let their relatives bear the brunt of their expenses,’ he said. We do what he orders us to, officially, but we can’t stand to see the wee mites go hungry, so we take a little extra when we can.”
“He’s stingy with the orphans because of all the prisoners he’s got locked away in the dungeon,” said another voice. “Not that he gives them much to eat.”
“Anyone know how many are down there now?” asked Gib.
Someone Audun couldn’t see said, “I used to know, but they haven’t let me down the steps since Dolon took charge.”
Audun noticed a look pass between Smithson and the head cook, who had come to the door. “That’s it, everyone,” the cook said abruptly. “Time to take the supper to the Great Hall. You’ve had your share of food and gossip. Now, let the mighty lords and ladies enjoy theirs!”
Eighteen
Audun woke early the next morning hoping that he could locate the girl and be headed back to the dragon stronghold before the end of the day. He had found his way to the south tower the night before, although it had been heavily guarded and he hadn’t been able to get in.
He reached Smugsby’s office before anyone else, then had to wait for nearly an hour before Pringle showed up to tell him that the steward was feeling ill and wouldn’t be in until later. “He has a bad headache,” he said, giving Audun an accusing look. “I daresay it’s because of that tankard you gave him yesterday. He should be back by this afternoon. Come here after the midday meal so he can tell you what to do. In the meantime, familiarize yourself with the castle if you haven’t already. Master Smugsby will expect you to know your way around, given you’ve had so much free time.”
“Yes, sir,” said Audun. Of course, he had something else in mind.
The kitchen was bustling with activity when Audun reached it just a short time later. It was still early, so he didn’t think anyone had carried the orphans’ meal to the tower yet. He found the baker, Patrik, in the heart of the large, chaotic kitchen. When Audun asked if he could help out in any way, perhaps by taking the orphans their food, the baker seemed happy to accept the offer.
After collecting the pot of porridge and some bowls, Patrik handed him several loaves of hot, crusty bread. “Take these for the guards. They’ll be more likely to let you take the food to the children if they have their own breakfast to eat. You’ll want to go up the tower to make sure the orphans are being treated well, and that the food is really going to them. Oh, yes, and these are for the cat.” Audun couldn’t understand why the man handed him three pieces of meat wrapped in an oiled cloth, but he wasn’t about to object. Surely a cat wouldn’t need all three pieces, in which case, he could have a taste himself.
It wasn’t until after he had given the bread to the guards positioned outside the door and had started up the steps that he understood about the cat. He had climbed only half a dozen steps up the narrow spiral staircase when something landed in front of him, yowling like a banshee. It was an orange tomcat as big as a large dog and it had three very different heads. The one in the center was big and blocky with a ragged ear and a scar down one side of its face. It was spitting and snarling at Audun. The one on the right was more refined, although it was growling deep in its throat. The third head was rounder and had short, little ears. Its sweet face had a more pronounced nose that it kept in the air, sniffing the meat.
Audun reached into the pocket where he’d stuffed the cat’s breakfast. He’d seen the length of its nearly dragon-like claws and the sharpness of its daggerlike teeth, and he felt sorry for any unprepared intruder coming up these stairs to take a child home without paying the ransom. Whoever the wizard was that was helping King Dolon, he seemed to know what he was doing.
At the top of the tower, Audun found the children playing with a few broken toys while an old woman with a sour face watched over them. Her eyes lit up when Audun gave her the last of the bread, and she retired to a chair in the corner to eat.
The children gathered around Audun as he served their porridge, smiling shyly whenever he looked their way. None of the five little boys or three little girls appeared to be more than seven years old. If they’d been wearing anything of value when they were found, it had been taken away; they were dressed in clothes much like those of the servants. Even so, everything they wore was clean and they looked healthy.
While the children ate, Audun squatted down beside them, and spoke to them in a kind and encouraging way. Although they had been shy at first, they soon told him their names and what toys were their favorites. Then a little boy named Ortzi told him that his uncle was coming for him that very day. When the other children told Audun in excited voices about the impending arrival of their relatives, he began to wonder how any of them could be the one he had been sent to find. The little girls were the most animated, and although they didn’t belong in the castle, they did have someone with whom they belonged. Nothing seemed particularly out of place. Surely none of them needed to be rescued.
There was no sign of the cat when Audun returned down the stairs carrying the empty bowls, which was just as well because he was trying to remember exactly what his grandmother had said in those few hectic moments before he left the dragon stronghold. He was sure she had said that the girl was an orphan, but he couldn’t recall her saying anything else about her. If only that wizard hadn’t shown up and they’d had more time to talk.
Audun returned the bowls to the kitchen and swiped a chunk of raw meat for himself while the cook had his back turned. Next, Audun decided to look around outside. He took the closest door leading into the courtyard and found himself near the stables. As Audun passed an open door, he glanced inside and saw a boy entering an empty stall a little farther in. The boy was the same size as Owen and had the same color hair. Audun was wondering if he should say anything when the boy raised his head. It was Owen and he didn’t seem happy to see Audun. He took off, running into the dimly lit depths of the stable.
Audun was peering into the darkened stalls when Owen stepped out of a doorway and they both stumbled. While Audun was trying to get them both back on their feet, he felt Owen’s arm wrap around his neck and the cold blade of a knife press against his throat.
“Why are you following me?” Owen demanded.
Audun inched his hand between them, ready to break the other boy’s grip. “I want to help you,” he said. “I don’t mean you any harm.”
Owen pressed the knife a little harder. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.”
“Yes, you have,” said Audun, as he shoved the hand that held the knife aside, and jumped out of Owen’s reach, keeping his eyes on the boy. “It’s just that I didn’t look like this then. I helped you once before. I want to help you now. What are you doing here? You are the prince they’re all talking about, aren’t you? It’s too dangerous for you to be anywhere near this castle.”
“I’m not telling you anything!” Owen said, waving the knife in Audun’s face.
Realizing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere wit
hout revealing who he was, Audun said, “I helped you escape from the roc’s nest. My name is Audun.”
Owen looked confused. “How is that possible?”
At least, thought Audun, there’s no one around to hear this. Shrugging, he said, “Humans have their magic, we dragons have ours. So why are you here?”
Owen lowered the knife and used the back of his other hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. “I heard that my father isn’t dead after all. He’s still alive and locked in his own dungeon. I’ve come to free him. Did you mean it when you said you want to help me?”
“Any way I can,” said Audun.
“Then come back here to night at midnight. You can go with me to get him out of the dungeon. I could use the help of someone like you.”
“I’ll be here,” Audun said, even as Owen slipped into the shadows and disappeared. He was scarcely out of sight before Audun realized he should have asked if Owen had noticed a girl who didn’t belong. He hurried after him.
Audun walked behind the stable and had almost reached the top of the manure pit when he heard someone shout. A slight figure was standing on the edge of the pit waving its arms in the air. Audun realized it was the boy, Jim. “What are you doing?” he shouted, just as Jim jumped into the pit below. Audun ran as fast as he could to the edge. To his amazement, Jim was rolling around in the smelly mixture, coating his clothes and body and making small grunting noises.
Seeing Audun, Jim stopped rolling long enough to sit up and shout, “Hello!”
“Are you hurt?” Audun asked, although he could tell that the boy was fine even before he began to pick his way down the slope.
Jim was laughing when Audun finally reached him, looking happier than Audun had ever seen him. His laughter transformed his face, making him look less like a lost waif than a mischievous prankster.
“I’m right as rain,” Jim said, climbing out of the pile.
“Physically, maybe,” muttered Audun, running his eyes over the boy’s thin frame. “But you must be crazy to jump in that.”