"You look so serious," Ellersbine smiled at him. "Is this our hostess?" she asked.
"This is Gwen," Marco answered as he mentally switched languages back to the Docleatean that his sweetheart spoke. "Would you like to share some breakfast?" he asked, no longer feeling the same hunger he had before.
"You won't tell her, will you?" Gwen asked.
Marco shook his head.
"Good; that's the right choice," the motherly figure told him.
He and Ellersbine shared a fork and the plate as they ate their breakfast. They had just finished when Dale entered the room.
"The word’s on the street that you did what you said, not that I doubted you, mind you," Dale announced. "The Baron is dead, killed in his own castle," Dale announced to his mother.
She dropped her spatula in shock, then stared at Marco. "Saints preserve us," she muttered.
"We want to be on our way to Foulata," Marco told Dale. "Will there be any problem getting there?" he asked.
"Not for you," Dale answered immediately. "I've already looked into the arrangements. Can you be ready to leave in half an hour?"
Marco looked at Ellersbine, who was patiently listening to the conversation in a language she didn’t understand.
"We'll be ready," Marco said easily, then he ate the last bite on the plate.
Chapter 30
Dale led Marco and Ellersbine to a stable, where they climbed into a false bottom of a wagon, over which tanned leathers were heaped. Three hours later the wagon stopped, a side panel of their compartment was opened, and they rolled out to freedom. The vehicle had been subjected to a search, but the clever false bottom proved impervious to detection, and after a quick handshake with the wagoner, Marco and Ellersbine were on their way.
They journeyed for eight days, revealing themselves to no one, not any of the noble estates they passed, where Ellersbine was known, for fear that either Argen might be looking for them or that news of Baron Crassten’s death might be pursuing them. At nightfall on the eighth day they reached the suburbs of mighty Foulata, and they trekked across town in the busy evening, as riders on horses and carriages provided constant traffic.
"To think that we have walked virtually the entire distance from Tripool to here," Ellersbine remarked to Marco when her father's palace came into view. Despite her weariness, there was pride in her voice, and she swung her hand with extra vigor as she and Marco held each other's hand.
The wrought iron gate was closed at the front of the palace grounds, but Marco ungloved his hand and discreetly opened it, then slipped his glove back on, and they walked up the drive to the front door.
"I'm surprised it's so dark," the princess remarked as they looked at the front of the house. The main door was locked, and they circled around to the back of the house, where the kitchen was lit up.
When they entered the kitchen through the servant’s door, the steward stood up speechless, the head cook passed out, and the housekeeper screamed.
"Count Argen said that you were dead!" the steward explained their astonishment, as the housekeeper ran forward and embraced her lost princess in a loving embrace.
"I am not dead, and I'm back to resume my place in this house. You heard that my father is dead?" Ellersbine asked.
"We heard that from the Count, and it was confirmed by a group of soldiers who arrived yesterday in the City after many great trials, they say," the steward explained. Some parts of their story are the same as the Count’s and some parts are different," he continued. "For example, the soldiers talk of a great hero who saved the day time and time again," the man looked at the silent Marco steadily. "The Count doesn't mention him at all."
“This is the hero who saved my life more times than I can recollect, and he even saved Argen’s life as well. Without him, none of us would have gotten back alive,” Ellersbine said warmly. “This is Marco, and he is to be my husband.”
The servants gaped at her in astonishment.
“We’ll talk more of this in the morning. For now, we’d like a meal, and I’d like to have a warm bath drawn immediately,” the princess continued.
“I am so glad to see all of you again!” she burst out as she left Marco and ran across the room to hug each of the servants, including the cook, who had recovered from her fainting spell.
“It’s been so long,” the housekeeper said. “It seems like you were just a girl when you left us with your father. And now, under all that dirt,” she smiled, “you looked like a very strong young lady.
“Your mother would be so proud of you!” she said. “Now let me go get the bath started,” she turned quickly as she dabbed at her face.
“Shall I have a guest room prepared for your friend?” the steward asked, making Marco feel suddenly like an interloper who was mooching off wealthy friends.
“No, prepare the room adjacent to mine,” Ellersbine said blithely. “I’m certain that’s the best place for him,” she added.
They slept very well that night, sleeping on the softest mattresses Marco had experienced in months, and when they awoke in the morning they were treated to a cart of breakfast treats that was rolled into Ellersbine’s room.
“I say that we get married immediately,” Ellersbine declared as they scandalized the staff by carrying their own tray of dirty dishes down the stairs an hour later.
“The king would have to approve that, your highness,” her steward pointed out. “Both because you are underage, and because you are already engaged to one of his good friends,” the man said significantly.
“The king is my own great-grandfather; surely he will allow me to pursue true love!” Ellersbine declared. “And once he and the court hear how heroic Marco is, they’ll insist that we seal our romance with marriage.”
Even to Marco’s enchanted ears, Ellersbine’s forecast sounded too sunny, but he attributed her high spirits to the simple joy of having finally returned home. They had had an odyssey like he had never expected, one that had tested them beyond the abilities he thought he had brought into the beginning of the journey, and they had succeeded.
He was not aware of how besotted he had also become with her, of how the yarns of energy between their two hearts not only kept the princess alive, but continually and mutually strengthened the affection between them.
“The king’s court was to send an appraiser to the estate tomorrow, to begin the process of deciding how to liquidate your father’s estate,” Fara, the steward answered. “Now that you’re back, you’ll be recognized as the heir, but,” he trailed off delicately.
“You say Ellersbine is underage,” Marco spoke up. He didn’t want to seem to be meddling in a way that would protect his own interest in her estate. “How old does she have to be to make her own decisions?”
“At least twenty three, or married to a husband at least twenty one years old. Even under the best of circumstances, I’m not sure the two of you qualify, without a special permit from the king.” He said. “I’m sorry to break such bad news; I am only reporting the law as I’ve tried to learn it since the word was first delivered that the Prince had passed away,” Fara told them apologetically.
“We have nothing to worry about,” Ellersbine said resolutely. “Marco is a hero, and heroes always win.”
Fara nodded, but said nothing.
“Is the carriage available?” Ellersbine asked. “I’d like to go out this afternoon and visit some friends, to let them know I’m alive and introduce Marco to them.”
“I’ll be sure to have it ready for you after lunch,” her steward answered. “Would the young man like for us to look into preparing a few clothing items for him to wear?”
“Oh Marco will be fine,” Ellersbine answered breezily. “He’s worn those clothes for hundreds of miles,” she answered, not knowing that Marco’s most recent clothes had just been purloined at the castle in Tabora.
“I will not reflect well on the princess if I appear dressed this way among her friends and the courtiers, will I?” Marco asked the st
eward, having learned the importance of such perceptions at the court at Barcelon.
“The young man is correct,” Fara agreed. “He should dress appropriately to make contact with a certain class of people, such as you will be seeing, your highness.”
“Oh fine, go on then,” Ellersbine relented. “Take him away Fara, and bring him back to me in time for lunch. I’ll go start writing notes to everyone to let them know I’m back,” she decided.
Marco followed the steward out of the room, and down a hall towards the servants’ working rooms in the back corner of the palace. They entered a room where three other men were sitting, a pair of them from the stables, judging from the smell of horses that lingered over them.
“So you’re a small town boy who became a soldier, and somehow a princess fell in love with you?” Fara asked as he closed the door to give the group some privacy. “I think that on behalf of the princess’s best interests, we’d all like to know why she is ruining her prospects in life to take up with a commoner like you.”
“It sounds badly when put that way,” Marco agreed. He looked around at the men. “What would you rather see? How well do any of you know Count Argen? Would you tell me that her life would be better if she were to marry him?” he asked.
The men around him dropped their eyes momentarily.
“Even if I didn’t love her,” Marco said passionately, “I would do what I could to free her from the clutches of Argen. You know that at best he would make her miserable.”
The other men gave discreet nods, as Fara looked at him steadily.
“He’s not just a common soldier I reckon, Fara,” the oldest of the stablemen spoke up. “That’s a pretty shiny golden piece he’s got around his neck. Common folks don’t have gold like that.”
“What are your intentions?” Fara asked Marco, ignoring the comment about the gold torq that Marco wore.
Marco hesitated. He thought he was in Foulata to carry out a mission for Lady Iasco. He would be able to freely stay by Ellersbine’s side until then. But then, if all the signs and prophecies were right, everything would be different, even under the best of circumstances.
“Well?” Fara repeated.
“I just want to make her happy. She lost her father, she’s had a terrible, punishing trip, she knows she’ll face consequences for breaking off the engagement with Argen,” he ticked off the points. “But for now I know I can give her peace. I don’t need anything from her; I just want to see her enjoy her life.”
“Where are you from?” the stableman asked.
“A small village in north Rurita,” Marco answered, recalling the identity Lady Iasco had sought to paste over his real identity.
“You be good to the princess,” Fara said, reluctantly ending the conversation without satisfying himself that he’d really learned the truth about Marco. “The whole household staff will be watching over our young girl to see how you treat her.”
“As you watch, the whole staff will see that I treat her with respect and love,” Marco answered, hoping to defuse the situation. He sensed that the men really did care for Ellersbine, and had her best interest at heart.
“Let’s have some clothes altered to fit you now then,” Fara said, and he led Marco to another room, where the household seamstress began measuring him and holding up various pieces of clothing against his lank frame. After several shirts and pants were marked for resizing, Marco tried on several pairs of boots.
“What about those gloves of yours?” Fara asked. “It’s warm enough you don’t really need to wear any, you know.”
“I prefer to protect my hands,” Marco stammered, caught unprepared to answer the question.
The steward raised his eyebrows. “With such heavy gloves?”
“If you have something that would be lighter and airier, I would wear it gladly,” Marco conceded.
After the conversation Fara led Marco to a small dining room, where Marco sat alone at a table for just a few minutes before Ellersbine came into the room. She smiled at him, then wrung her hands in dramatic fashion. “My hands are getting cramps from trying to write so many notes!
“I wrote to three aunts and two uncles, four cousins, and three friends so far, to let them know I’m back in Foulata,” she told Marco as she sat down beside him. “Where are your new clothes?” she asked.
“The seamstress is making the alterations now,” Marco explained. “They said I’d have them before the end of lunch.”
Marco asked Ellersbine questions about her extended family, and listened as she described them. By the time the meal was finished, she had described several relations, and a package of adjusted clothes, neatly wrapped in tissue paper, had been delivered to the room.
“Go get dressed, and we’ll go see Uncle Mersby first,” Ellersbine told Marco. “He’s my father’s older brother. He’s a little gruff, but a softie on the inside.”
Marco carried the clothing up to his room and dressed in the new clothes, then put the new boots on his feet and new gloves provided by Fara on his hands. He looked in the mirror, and thought that he looked like an imposter in the elegant clothes, then went downstairs.
“You could not look more handsome!” Ellersbine clapped her hands in glee as she watched him arrive in the hallway where she waited. “Uncle Mersby will think I’m in love with you just for your looks!”
He smiled at her, and they took their seats in the horse-drawn carriage that waited in the circle out front. The carriage traveled across the city, passing through neighborhoods, and giving Marco his first daylight view of the vast city. There were elegant parks and large buildings that housed numerous people, far larger that the apartment buildings he had seen in the Lion City and Barcelon.
“Over there is the king’s palace,” Ellersbine pointed out the window on her side of the carriage. Marco leaned over and saw the tall black tower that rose in the midst of the city, surrounded by large black walls that appeared to enclose several city blocks of space.
“We’ll go there in a few days,” Ellersbine promised. “It’s the most extraordinary place ever. “For someone with your abilities,” she patted his hands, “it would be a wonderful place to show off your skills, if you wanted to.”
“I don’t know if I want to,” Marco said slowly. Her words, and the touch to his hands, a reference to his sorcery abilities, raised a sense of uneasiness about actually being in Foulata. He was here now, and could find that at any time Lady Iasco’s unknown expectations for him might be unexpectedly unleashed.
“You won’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ellersbine answered without understanding his concerns. “We can live in our own palace, or go to our place in the country, and never have to worry about what goes on at court,” she told him soothingly.
They passed by the environs of the palace, their carriage moving smoothly along a busy highway full of horse riders as well as carriages, wagons, and buggies, and after an hour’s time, they pulled into the drive of a large palace, one larger than Ellersbine’s home. The carriage came to a stop, and seconds later they heard a rap at the door of their carriage, and it swung open.
“Well! It really is the lost princess!” a gatekeeper exclaimed. “Your uncle shall be astonished, I’m sure,” he said with a kindly smile. He stepped back from the door and waved the carriage forward.
“Your highness,” a servant at the door greeted Ellersbine graciously as she walked from the carriage to the entrance to the palace. “You and your friend should have a seat in the prince’s study, and I’ll send word of your arrival immediately.”
Ellersbine thanked the man, and then held Marco’s hand as she led him down a short hall to a room that was furnished with impressive tapestries, leather furniture, and a window that looked upon a small, enclosed private garden. Marco stood at the window and watched a bird bathing in a fountain, when he heard the door open behind him and saw a man and a woman, old enough to be Ellersbine’s uncle and aunt, enter and embrace her in a hug.
“They said you w
ere dead!” the aunt sobbed as she wrapped an arm around the girl, with her other arm wrapped around her husband in a tight, three-way embrace.
“I’m sorry you lost your father,” the uncle said, “but seeing you here is the best thing possible short of seeing him again.” Marco saw that there were tears in the man’s eyes, and he heard the warm love in their voices.
Ellersbine’s aunt happened to catch sight of Marco for the first time. “Is this the dashing young friend the servant said came with you?” she asked Ellersbine.
“This is my beloved, Marco. He saved my life three or four times on the way back from Athens,” Ellersbine said. She broke from the hug to walk over to Marco, then led him by the hand back to her watching relatives. Marco bowed deeply to them.
“Were you an officer in the army at Athens? Did you serve on my brother’s staff?” Mersby asked.
“No, I was just an enlisted man in the army,” Marco answered, as he watched the aunt’s eyebrows shoot up.
“When did you get back? How did you get separated from your fiancé, Count Argen?” Aunt Grace asked to cover the awkward pause that followed. “Have you been to Argen’s estate to see him?”
“We just arrived last night,” Ellersbine answered. “We walked from Tabora; that’s where Argen left me.”
“You walked all the way from Tabora? That’s a long way!” her aunt responded.
Marco failed to stifle a laugh, drawing a look from Mersby. “That is a long way, but it was just a small portion of the journey we covered,” Marco explained. “A very small part. We probably walked eight or nine times as far as that on the way back from Athens.”
“And what about Argen?” Mersby probed. “Have you seen him? Was he as shocked as we were to see you?”
“No, we haven’t been to see him, and I don’t imagine he’ll be too pleased to see us,” Ellersbine explained. “Uncle, will you help me go to the king’s court to have my engagement to him dissolved, so I can marry Marco?”
The Southern Trail (Book 4) Page 28