Spiral Stairs
The next week, Platov and Tate lifted up the massive painting and loaded it onto a handcart. Following Alexander they left through the gate. Taking to a road worn in the dirt, they made their way into the forest. Tancred’s Castle was not far, but it was in the middle of the creepy forest. Stumbling along, pushing the wagon, they followed the road while Alexander in a usually happy mood was whistling. Birds screeched from the trees while little creatures scattered from the roadside. Pushing the handcart along was hard and stopping to rest for a moment, Alexander glared most impatiently. Then they started pushing and pulling the handcart while preventing the painting from falling off. Finally they stumbled on a clearing in the forest. Ahead was the modest gatehouse tower of Tancred Castle. Weathered gray and covered with tenacious ivy vines, the tower rose up over the battlements of the curtain walls. Small and narrow arrow slots were cut into the tower near the top while battlements lined the roof. Giant bullfrogs called the moat home. Birds scattered off into the surrounding forest.
In recent years, no marauding army had laid siege to the ancient castle, but scars on the battlements and thick stone walls testified to more than one attempt to breach the fortress. Beyond the curtain walls was a modest gray castle with a single square tower that rose above a formidable keep. The drawbridge with rusty chains was lowered over a muddy moat while the iron gate was already lifted. Alexander growing impatient with his exhausted helpers hurried them along.
Inside, the courtyard was covered in thick grass and unkempt shrubbery. A goat was grazing on the grass while ahead up a few steps was a formidable oak door. The door like the castle had seen better days. Weathered and stained the door was the only visible entry into gray castle. High up in the tower was the only window that opened onto the courtyard. Setting the painting down on the walkway, Alexander straightened the canvas cover and then went to the door. Using an iron knocker, he alerted the castle of their arrival.
The painting was destined to a prominent place over the fireplace in Tancred’s hall. Prepared to receive important visitors, the old hall had been cleaned while the finest goblets and dinnerware had been set out on a long table. Workmen were waiting and taking the heavy painting from the boys, they set about the business of mounting it to the stone wall above the hearth.
An old butler named Quintus hovered over the details as Tancred was being fitted with a new robe in another chamber. Then Quintus paid Alexander as promised. With a smirk over the fortune acquired, Alexander departed the old hall with hardly a word of good-bye. Left to stand and wonder what they should do, Platov and Tate waited nervously.
Quintus showed them into a kitchen through a heavy door to the rear of the old hall. The kitchen was not attached to the castle, but the walkway was covered by a wooden roof. Inside, a fire burned on a hearth with the smell of stew simmering in the kettle. Bread was set out on a table, while many fresh herbs, roots, fruits, and vegetables were spread all around. Quintus pointed at a table where the boys could sit. As he did not want them meddling with the preparations, he set out two bowls of stew and some bread for them. With few words, Quintus explained that their chamber was in the gatehouse tower. After they ate, they were to make themselves scarce as Tancred was expecting some very important visitors. Obediently, Platov and Tate nodded.
“This not be so bad,” Tate said as he tasted the stew prepared for important visitors. The bread was risen, freshly baked, and quite different from the unleavened stone-ground bread they were accustomed to eating. Platov smiled as he tasted the soft bread smeared with churned butter. Just then a woman wearing a gray cloth dress with an apron arrived. She had her brown hair tied back into a bun while in her hands she was carrying a basket filled with herbs.
“I am Klara,” she said introducing herself. “You must be Platov and Tate. Master said you would be coming today.”
“I am Platov.”
Tate nodded.
“Eat and then be scarce. Master he be in a mood today. Don’t be seen or heard,” Klara said. Then she put her basket down on the heavy worktable and laid out the herbs. Singing with hushed words, she glanced over at the boys repeatedly. Taking a big knife she was busy dicing up the herbs and pushing the cuttings into an earthen bowl.
“When ye done, ye can has strudel. I makes it with apples,” Klara said.
“This is good,” Tate said as he finished his bowl of stew.
“Has more,” Klara nodded at the simmering pot. “The Queen, she not partake but a spoonful. All this preparations and she partake but a spoonful.”
“The Queen?” Platov choked.
“Yea, she be calling upon Master,” Klara said. “Eats strudel then makes yourselves vanish. Poof, neither seen nor heard. Master says it so. Ye stays outs of sight.”
Tate looked at Platov and then finishing his bread he looked around the kitchen.
“Over yonder, on the cupboard,” Klara said. Then drying her hands, she went to get the strudel herself. “I be dishing it out onto crystal plates, so the Queen she naught be knowing you tasted it first.”
Tate looked at Platov and then shrugged.
“Master Tancred requests that you gather firewood when you have eaten,” Quintus announced when he returned. With a noticeable glare he noted that the boys were indulging in strudel.
“They be hungry, looked at em’, they be all skin and bones,” Klara said without apology. “Master says they can eat.”
Quintus disappeared through the door without comment.
Once done eating they set upon their errand of gathering firewood from the forest. A tree had fallen not far from the castle and taking a ribbon saw and axe to the broken branches, they gathered up quite a bit. Loading it onto an old cart they pulled it back to the castle and piled up the firewood outside the kitchen as told. Then far off in the distance a regal horn sounded.
“Go now!” Klara in a nervous fit whisked the boys off.
Abandoning the cart still not completely unloaded, the boys dashed across the courtyard. Finding the door to the gatehouse unlocked they carefully stepped inside. Narrow spiraling stairs led up into the tower and once the door was closed they were in near darkness. Finding a torch, Platov lit it with the help of his labradorite stone. He could still see in the dark and sniffing the air, he could tell that nothing foul was lurking in the stairwell. Then climbing they found themselves in a chamber where the rusty drawbridge chains were wound around a turnstile. Small and narrow arrow slots let a little light into the dank chamber. Overhead in the ceiling, birds had made messy nests. Along the stone walls, forgotten rusted armor and weapons hung, while just beyond the turnstile was a large cauldron for boiling oil. Narrow slots in the floor were nearby. Testing the cauldron, Tate discovered that it would pivot and pour the hot oil into troughs that led to the narrow slots in the floor. Curious of the artifacts scattered about the boys dawdled to look everything over.
Then hearing the regal horn again, both darted to peek out the narrow arrow slots. Still nobody could be seen out on the forest road, but the horn was closer. Racing up the stairs they found a small square room with a fireplace. Sparsely furnished with but a bed stuffed with straw, a table, and a chair, the room had not been used recently as a layer of dust had settled on everything. There were two arrow slots and peeking out through them they could see the approaching flag bearer.
Then an escorting army stepped out from under the trees. Behind the army was a carriage pulled by horses. Decorated with pendants, the red carriage moved slowly toward the castle. Curious, Tate and Platov raced out the door and up the stairs to the very top. From here peeking out from behind the battlements, they could watch the Queen’s arrival.
Behind the Queen’s carriage were four more carriages and as they watched, now they were not certain which one was the Queen’s after all. The regal horn sounded again and then the flag bearers were marching through the gates. Horses and carriages followed while the escorting army took up alongside the moat.
Platov and Tate raced to the
other side of the tower and peeked over the battlements. Tancred was standing at the door in a new brightly colored purple robe. Then as the carriages pulled up to the front door, he graciously stepped down the stairs. While the boys’ view was blocked by the carriages, they did see the Queen being escorted into the keep on Tancred’s arm. Then there were several other important looking people, all wearing long wizard’s robes of different colors. The boys watched the entire procession disappear into the keep. But the adventure was not over yet, as they went to the other side and spied upon the escorting army. Standing at attention, the army had lined up in front of the moat and on both sides of the road.
“Do they stay that way?” Tate asked as he saw none of the men move. They held their spears upright in front of them while their heads were covered in dark helmets. Only one had decoration on his uniform and he was stationed right at the end of the drawbridge. Curiously they watched but as nobody moved, they quickly became bored. Then they went back to the other side of the tower and spied upon the carriages and drivers lined up along the walkway. The flag bearer was standing on one side of the front door while the horn blower was standing on the other side.
“Will she be staying all day?” Tate asked as everyone that had come with the Queen looked uncomfortable.
“I do not know. Did you see her face?” Platov asked.
“No,” Tate replied. Staying down real low so that nobody would see them they waited but then nothing else happened. The visitors were all inside the windowless keep.
“Someone is coming,” Sage reported. His voice sudden and but a whisper.
Platov and Tate scattered back to the door and raced down to their chamber. Footsteps were heard on the spiral staircase as at least four men were climbing the stairs. Then the door to their chamber swung open and a formidable figure bearing a sword was looking in at them. Tate cowered while Platov stared.
The man named Kyrus looked them over and then around the small chamber.
“Ye be Tancred’s boys?” Kyrus asked.
“Yea,” Platov nodded.
Without another word spoken the men went by their chamber on their way to the roof. Platov waited a moment wondering if the man would come back, but when he did not, Platov rushed over and closed the door. Then as an afterthought he struggled with the heavy beam that barred the door. Outside the sound of the iron gate being dropped with a clattering of rusty chains.
“We were not supposed to be seen,” Tate said in a hushed whisper.
Platov shrugged. Peeking out the narrow arrow slot, Platov could see that the escorts were making camp just beyond the muddy moat.
Chapter 10: The Proofing
The Stone of Cuore Page 9