Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web - Volume 1

by Prestopnik, Thomas J.

  CHAPTER 16

  Spies on the Bridge

  Nicholas closed his eyes and deeply inhaled the cold sea air as the wagon rattled on through the narrow streets of Boros. The tiny fishing village was a collection of stone and wood houses and shops bunched snugly together like a cluster of grapes along the shores of Sage Bay. Leo had completed his apple deliveries for the day, first in White Birch and Laurel Corners, and now finally in Boros. Nicholas felt a sense of relief that Megan would soon be safe inside the home of her great aunt. Megan sat silently between them, her eyes closed and head gently resting on Leo’s shoulder as the horses contentedly clip clopped through the first hints of gauzy twilight.

  “Is that the place?” Leo asked, pointing to a gray stone house near the end of a winding street. A candle burned in each of the downstairs windows and a wreath of dried goldenrod and corn husks adorned the wooden door.

  Megan looked up. “Yes. Samuel had given me explicit directions as a precaution in case we ever became separated.”

  Nicholas grinned. “Bet he never expected you to separate yourself from his side.”

  “I wouldn’t be much of a princess if I couldn’t take care of myself.”

  Leo nervously cleared his throat. “Just to be safe, it might be best if we didn’t mention the word princess while we’re in public.”

  “Point well taken,” she said with amusement. “I’ll just pretend to be plain common folk like you two boys. Any pointers?”

  “Sure. Eat with your fingers and wipe your mouth on your shirt sleeve,” Nicholas said with a smirk.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied, enjoying the salty breeze as it brushed across her face. Sea gulls cried mournfully above the shoreline as the few remaining rays of orange sunlight pierced through a grove of tall pines in the west.

  Great Aunt Castella Birchwood opened the door and gazed uneasily at the trio gathered on her front step. A slight breeze rustled the gray curls hanging down her forehead. She tightened a green and gold checkered shawl around her thin shoulders as she suspiciously glanced beyond her visitors at a tiny wooden bridge farther down the cobblestone street now absent of any pedestrians. She bit her lower lip before returning her focus to Megan, Nicholas and Leo.

  “It’s been nine years since I last laid eyes on my niece’s daughter, but I can tell at a glance, Megan, that you are indeed her,” Castella said, suspiciously eyeing her companions. “But who are these two? And where is Samuel?”

  “These are my friends, Aunt Castella. Very good friends,” she replied, vaguely recalling the last time she had seen her great aunt at her mother’s funeral. Megan was eleven at that horrible time, young enough not to comprehend why her life had been turned upside down, yet old enough to forever remember the stinging pain of those sorrowful months. “Samuel isn’t here with us. It’s a long story.”

  “I see. Then you’d better tell me all about it at once. I’m not getting any younger,” she said, flashing a dry smile.

  After directing Leo to a patch of land on the left side of the house where he tied up his horses, Castella invited everybody into the house. She glanced once more at the wooden bridge before closing the door and locking it with a large key.

  They were seated at the kitchen table in short order as Castella scurried about the room, hanging a kettle of water over the stone fireplace for hot tea and preparing a plate of honey biscuits, apple slices and cheese. Megan insisted on helping, but Castella wouldn’t hear of it.

  “I’m seventy years old and then some, and not much good at chopping firewood or cleaning out the horse stall anymore. I let my housekeeper, Ivy, do that. But I can lay out a snack for my guests to enjoy,” she said, stoking the flames of the fire and tossing on another piece of wood. She sat down at the table after everything had been served, her skin pale in the candlelight. “Now bring me up to date on your journey and I’ll fill you in on what’s been troubling me.”

  “What are you talking about?” Megan asked. “Is something wrong?”

  Aunt Castella raised a finger. “You first, please.”

  Nicholas nodded. “Tell your aunt everything that happened, Meg.”

  “For you own safety,” Leo agreed.

  “I should understand then that these boys know who you are?” Castella asked.

  “Nicholas and Leo know I’m King Justin’s granddaughter,” Megan said. “I couldn’t hide that secret forever.”

  “Not from us or from someone else.” Leo swiped an apple slice from the plate and bite into it. “She was nearly kidnapped at the Plum Orchard Inn.”

  “What?”

  “Leo! Don’t blurt it out. You’ll scare my aunt to death.”

  “Tell me what happened!”

  “She has to know, Meg. We can’t keep secrets,” he said, chomping on the fruit. “Not bad. Red Hills Creek variety?”

  “Yes. The shops were out of Corlians,” Castella said, eyeing Leo curiously upon his question. “But what about this kidnapping?”

  “Out of Corlians? Well, that shouldn’t be a problem anymore,” he said with a pleased smile. “In fact–”

  “Don’t get him started!” Nicholas pleaded while slicing off a piece of cheese and stuffing it between two halves of a biscuit. “Enough apple talk,” he pleaded. “Let Megan tell the story.”

  “I wish one of you would,” Castella said. “I grow uneasy when I hear the word kidnapping, especially when it pertains to my great niece. Now, Megan, what happened? And don’t worry about scaring me. I’m too old to get scared–but not impatient. So talk!”

  Megan quickly related the events from the previous night at the inn, informing Aunt Castella how she had run away from Samuel and Carmella and eventually met Nicholas and Leo. Castella was grateful that they had accompanied her to Boros, shuddering to think where her great niece might be now had she been on her own.

  “Your father will be furious,” Castella predicted. “And as for your grandfather…”

  “I wouldn’t blame them,” Meg admitted, “but I’d probably be in less trouble if I had just remained in Morrenwood. I was supposed to be protected here in Boros, tucked safely and anonymously out of the way from the danger of the times.”

  “But somebody found your trail, so now what do we do?” Nicholas asked.

  “How about posting a message to your grandfather?” Leo said. “He can send a troop of his best soldiers here to take you back home.”

  “Don’t be silly, Leo. I don’t intend to have the King or even the local authorities waste their time looking after me.” Megan sipped her tea, gazing stubbornly across her cup. “Besides, we gave that man at the inn the slip. He probably ran off for good. I don’t think we have anything to worry about now.”

  “If only that were so,” Castella gravely whispered. “I had a feeling something wasn’t right even before you arrived. Your story confirms my suspicions. You are in danger, Megan, and there isn’t time to let others worry about your safety. We have to.”

  “What are you talking about, Aunt Castella?”

  “What danger?” Leo asked.

  “I’m afraid whoever’s been following you now knows you’re here,” she said ominously, her steely green eyes gazing over the teapot as she refreshed her drink.

  Nicholas leaned back in his chair, wondering if they had been followed from the inn. They had talked freely enough in public on several occasions and someone could have been listening. “How do you know this, Castella? Who knows we’re here?”

  “I don’t know who, but someone is definitely on your trail.” She sipped her tea with a trembling hand. Though it had been years since she had seen her great niece, she felt close to Megan and protective nonetheless. “Earlier this morning there was a knock on my door. Ivy was out in the back garden harvesting the last of the carrots, so I answered the call. A young man had stopped by with a delivery of fresh fish. I told him he had the wrong address but he seemed perplexed. After I told him my name, he realized his mistake and left. I watched him leave, assuming he�
��d try another house nearby, but he went straight to the wooden bridge near the end of the street and spoke to another man who was fishing in the stream running below. I thought that that was odd.”

  “Why?” Leo asked.

  “Because that stream is thick with weeds. Nobody ever fishes there especially since the docks are just a stone’s throw away.” Castella sighed as if stating the obvious. “Anyway, the man who had mistakenly stopped here talked to the second man on the bridge for a few moments and then left him there alone to continue fishing.”

  Nicholas shrugged. “And that indicates what?”

  “First it indicates that the chap knows nothing about catching a fish for dinner,” she replied with an amused grunt, putting Megan momentarily at ease. “But he stayed there for over an hour. I peeked through the curtains every so often, noting that he occasionally glanced this way as if furtively studying the house. Later, the first man stopped by again and switched places with the fellow who was fishing. Now this man pretended to fish after the other one had left. My curiosity was eerily piqued. I had Ivy take a look when she came inside, and after another hour or so, the second man returned and switched places with the first. When it happened a third time, I grew deeply concerned. I knew my house was being watched…” Aunt Castella glanced at Megan with apprehension. “…and I knew you were on your way to my doorstep.”

  Leo jumped up. “Nicholas and I can run down there right now and confront those two characters. Just give us each a heavy walking stick if you have some handy. We’ll take care of them.”

  “My brave protectors,” Megan said with a smile.

  “Now don’t be foolhardy, Leo. Besides, they aren’t there anymore,” Castella calmly stated. “I noticed they were gone when you knocked on my door. The bridge was empty. They must have seen you arrive and sprinted off, fishing pole and all.”

  “Now they know you’re here,” Nicholas whispered to Megan.

  “But where did they go?” Leo wondered aloud.

  Aunt Castella rubbed her thin hands together. “More importantly, who did they tell?”

  “Oh, enough already!” Megan complained. “There’s a cloud of mystery and alarm hanging over this room as thick as yesterday’s churned butter. I won’t have it. I won’t make myself a prisoner to our wild imaginations.”

  “Being nearly kidnapped last night was not our imaginations,” Leo said. “You have to take your safety seriously, Meg. And if you won’t, we will.”

  “He’s right,” Castella agreed. “When your grandfather sent word to me weeks ago about your pending arrival, I thought you’d be safe and anonymous here in the middle of nowhere. But we were both wrong. He only wanted to keep you safe in case danger–or even war itself–spread to the capital city. But danger tracked you to our little village of Boros nonetheless.”

  “What are you saying, Aunt Castella?”

  “Your secret is out, my dear girl, and I can’t guarantee your safety inside the walls of my modest abode. I do apologize,” she said, folding her hands upon the table. “Now that you’ve been spotted, it seems that your journey here has been for naught. Therefore, perhaps it is wisest that you should flee elsewhere, or even return to Morrenwood.”

  “Humph!” Megan slumped back in her chair and glared at Nicholas and Leo. “And I suppose you two agree? Cart the little girl back to the Blue Citadel where she can start all over. Move her around like she’s merely a crate of apples, completely ignoring the fact that this crate of produce has had just about enough of fleeing and hiding and being looked after! If I had ignored everyone else and stayed home in the first place, then none of this would be happening!” She stood and slammed her tea cup on the table. “If someone wants to kidnap me, let them try. Now please excuse me for a moment.”

  She breezed past the table and disappeared into the adjoining room. Nicholas and Leo glanced at each other, feigning expressions of fright before turning to Castella.

  “Maybe we should talk to her about this later,” Leo said softly. “Give her a few moments to calm down first.”

  “Several moments,” Nicholas suggested.

  Castella stood and started to clean off the table. “Things will work themselves out. In the meantime, the pile on the hearth is low, Nicholas. Could you go out back and bring in more wood?”

  “Sure will.”

  “And, Leo, perhaps a bit of handholding in the other room might be in order,” she added. “I’ll join you shortly with another pot of tea.”

  “Maybe I should leave her alone a little longer,” he said with unease. “Just to be on the safe side.”

  “Good luck however you handle it,” Nicholas remarked with a chuckle as he slipped out the back door.

  The shadows were thick behind the house when Nicholas stepped outside. He took a deep breath of the cool evening air that danced with a scent of fresh pine and sea water. Wisps of purple and gray clouds drifted above the distant trees in the deepening twilight. A long pile of chopped wood had been neatly stacked several yards away in some tall grass. A few crickets lazily chirped. He wandered over but suddenly stopped when seeing a dark figure stooping over the far end of the stack. His heart raced, fearing that one of the men Castella had spotted on the bridge was lurking about, perhaps waiting to ambush Megan during the night. He looked around, but finding nothing to arm himself with, he raced to the closer end of the pile and grabbed a piece of firewood, raising it in the air like a club.

  “I don’t think you’ll find the fishing all that great back here,” he muttered as he approached the individual, a scowl creeping across his face. “Now don’t try anything foolish and you won’t get hurt.” The stranger, holding an armful of logs, slowly turned toward Nicholas and stared at him in the gloom.

  “Exactly why would I go fishing in a grassy field?” a voice curiously asked, noting the weapon in Nicholas’ hand. “You’re not planning to hit me with that, are you?” Nicholas flinched when hearing a young woman speak and quickly lowered his arm. “Because if you’re not, be a gentleman and help carry some of this into the house. Castella likes a full pile by the hearth when she wakes up in the morning.”

  “Uh, sure…” he said, flushed with embarrassment as he tossed the piece of wood aside. Nicholas was grateful that they were somewhat hidden in shadow, hoping he didn’t look as ridiculous as he felt. “Sorry, but I thought you were someone else.” He extended his arms and indicated for the woman to give him the firewood.

  “Someone you wanted to hit with a stick?” she said, slightly amused.

  “Not exactly.” Nicholas shrugged as she added a few more pieces to the pile in his overloaded arms so that he had to steady it with his chin.

  “That should do,” she said, leading the way back to the house. “And you are…?”

  “Nicholas Raven. I arrived here a while ago with Megan,” he said. “You must be Castella’s housekeeper. Ivy, is it?”

  “Ivy Brooks. But I only work here a few days each week,” she replied while opening the back door to let Nicholas step into the now empty kitchen.

  He knelt down on one knee and deposited the firewood near the stone hearth as Ivy closed the door and locked it. Nicholas stood up just as she turned around, seeing her face clearly in the light for the first time. He was immediately taken with her soft smile and gentle light brown eyes that matched the flow of hair upon her shoulders. Ivy wore a light beige blouse with a gray and white house skirt that draped down to her ankles, just covering the tips of a pair of scuffed black boots. He stared at her for a moment, gawking slightly and at a loss for words.

  Ivy blushed amid a growing smile. “I don’t have a dirt smudge on my face, do I? I’d been working out in the garden earlier.”

  “No. You look fine,” he said. “No smudge. But even if you had one, you’d still look–fine.” He took a clumsy step backward, bumping into the wood pile he had just set down, believing his words at the moment were as ungraceful as his feet.

  “Careful there.”

  “I’m all righ
t,” he said, placing one hand on the mantel and trying to smile confidently. “And so are you. Still no smudge.”

  Ivy grinned affectionately. “Thanks for clarifying that. Unfortunately, I think I smudged you when I handed off that pile out back.” She walked up to him and quickly ran her thumb over a small speck of dirt on his chin. “Castella would never let me hear the end of it if she knew I was putting one of her houseguests to work.”

  “I don’t mind,” Nicholas said as he and Ivy briefly looked into each other’s eyes. The soft touch of her hand upon his face made him briefly forgot all the confusing trouble that had plagued him over the last several days. And though they had only met, Nicholas instantly felt an easy and comforting bond in her presence. He couldn’t help but smile.

  “There. You look like your old self again, Nicholas.”

  “I’ll assume that’s a good thing. I’ve been on the road for days and feel dog tired. Hope I don’t look it,” he said.

  “Not at all,” she replied as Castella walked into the room.

  “Oh, there you are, Ivy. I thought you had gotten lost in the darkness,” she said as she squeezed between the couple to check on the tea kettle heating over the fire. “I see you’ve met this fine young gentleman. Megan is in the other room with one Leo Marsh. I’ll introduce you to them shortly. Then we can discuss our plan.”

  Ivy looked at her guardedly. “So they both know about Megan’s identity?”

  “Oh, yes. Her secret is out.”

  Nicholas shifted a perplexed gaze between Ivy and Castella. “Plan? What are you two talking about? What plan?”

  “Water’s ready,” Castella said, sighing as she lifted the heavy metal teapot with a small towel wrapped around its handle. “Ivy, can you get five cups ready on a tray so we can serve in the other room?”