Charles didn’t ask any more questions as they rode, and he didn’t see any sign of cooking fires as they got closer to the castle. He decided he preferred not knowing what that meant.
As the town walls came into view, Princess Melissina reigned in again. Phichorian stopped beside her. “What is it?”
“Look at the walls. No guards.”
Phichorian stared at the walls, then handed Charles the reins. “Hold these. Princess, stay with him. I’ll go ahead and see what’s going on.”
“But if there’s danger...”
“What danger?” Phichorian climbed out of the wagon and grabbed his mandolin. “I'm just a minstrel in search of a place to play. There’s nothing suspicious in that.” Phichorian looked up at Charles. “Just hold them. Princess Melissina will help you if they get restless, but they won’t. I’ll be back soon.”
“Wait!” Bobble darted out of the wagon. “I’m coming with you. It’s my fault we went. And you might need someone small.”
“And a minstrel with a sprite will attract attention.”
“Not if I’m under your hat.”
Phichorian lifted his hat. “Then come on.”
Princess Melissina pulled her horse closer to the wagon and watched Phichorian as he walked away. Charles wanted to ask what she thought was wrong, but he could tell from her expression that she was afraid. He was probably better off not knowing.
Sir Amertious rode back to them. “Phichorian is very cautious.”
Princess Melissina didn’t look away from the walls. “I sent him.”
That shut Sir Amertious up.
It took a long time, but eventually Phichorian came back. “Bobble’s coming. It’s not good.”
Princess Melissina went white. “Father?”
“That’s why Bobble stayed. He’s going to try and get in.”
“What happened?” Sir Amertious asked.
“Necorious came. He’s taken the castle.”
“No,” Princess Melissina whispered.
“I could see his army in the town. It doesn’t look like he’s ready to attack anywhere else yet.”
“He doesn’t have to hurry,” Princess Melissina murmured. “They’ll all be too disheartened to fight back.”
Phichorian nodded. “Bobble snuck in. He’s going to try to get to the castle. We can see what news he brings back before we get too worried.”
Princess Melissina nodded, but did not look any less worried.
Phichorian grabbed Princess Melissina's reins. “No matter what, we’ll need to be less obvious.”
“Good point.” Princess Melissina swung down, looking a little less desperate. “The horses are all right if we take off the crests on the bridles, but the wagon needs something. Sir Amertious, take care of the bridles, and remove your surcoat. The guard crest is just as obvious.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Sir Amertious pulled the purple-and-gold surcoat over his head and threw it in the back of the wagon. Charles could tell he was only doing it because he didn’t want to argue with a direct order from the princess.
“Now for the wagon.” Princess Melissina ran her hand over the painted crest. “Any ideas?”
“The minstrel ploy worked well. Maybe we could make it an entertainer’s cart.”
Sir Amertious glared at Phichorian for that suggestion.
“Good,” Princess Melissina said.
Sir Amertious turned back to the horse’s tack, still glaring.
Princess Melissina ignored his reaction. “How do we do that?”
Phichorian went to the back of the wagon and looked inside. Charles tried to help by looking in the back of the wagon from his seat, but he was too preoccupied to notice anything.
“Paint would be best,” Phichorian said as he poked around, “but we don’t have any. How about the tent?” He climbed in back and pulled out a brightly colored tent. “Perfect. Charles, grab the tool kit from under the seat.”
Charles felt around under the seat until his hand brushed a leather sack. He pulled it out and lugged it onto the seat next to him.
Phichorian unknotted the rope holding sack closed and pulled out a hammer. “There should be some nails at the bottom. See if you can find them.”
Charles reached into the sack and felt around, barely noticing when a nail pricked his knuckles.
Phichorian climbed down and went to the back, unfolding the tent as he went. While Phichorian stretched out the tent, arranging it beside the wagon, Charles found eight nails and stuck them in his pocket.
“Here Charles.” Phichorian handed him a corner of the tent. “When I tell you, drag that over the top. I’ll do the same in back, then hand it to Princess Melissina.”
“Stop calling me ‘princess’ unless you want us to get caught. And hand me that cloak.”
“All right, Melissina.” Phichorian handed Melissina his multicolored cloak which was draped over the back of the seat and went around to the back of the wagon. “All right.”
Charles slowly lifted the tent, watching Phichorian lift his end, then jump into the wagon, passing it over the top. “OK, Charles, hand it to Melissina.”
Melissina grabbed the tent as Charles pulled it over the wagon. Phichorian jumped down as the fabric got lower.
“OK, time for the nails.” Phichorian held out his hand and Charles gave him what he’d found so far, then stuck his hand back in the bag and felt around for more.
* * *
By the time Bobble was flitting over the hill, Phichorian and Charles had stretched the tent over the wagon and nailed it underneath. It completely covered the crest, even if it did look a little odd. Phichorian seemed to think that was a good thing for a band of traveling players.
Melissina was the first to see Bobble. She was tapping her foot as he flitted closer. “Well?”
Bobble sighed. “He’s there, in the dungeon.”
Nothing else needed to be said. Even Charles understood that this was very bad, but he couldn’t work up the energy to say anything.
It was Phichorian who broke the silence. “What is the next step?”
Melissina and Sir Amertious continued to stare into space. Phichorian left them to their thoughts as he put the tools away then motioned for Charles to get back into the wagon. Phichorian reached under the seat and pulled out their armor. “I’ll help you put yours back on.”
Once they were re-armed and settled, Phichorian spoke again. “Melissina, whatever your orders are, I’m willing to follow them, but I need to know what it is I’m following.”
Melissina looked at him, her eyes still distant. “Orders?”
Phichorian nodded.
Melissina straightened up. “Yes, orders. We should go back to Kirjavale. They have always been our friends, they will help us now.” She pulled the hood of the cloak over her hair and adjusted it to hide her face.
“Very good.” Phichorian flicked the reins and began to turn the wagon. “You coming, Amertious?”
Sir Amertious didn’t seem to notice that Phichorian had stopped using his title as well as he turned his horse and brought up the rear.
As the wagon rolled along, Charles drummed up the energy to say, “This means I can’t go back, doesn’t it?”
Phichorian didn’t turn away from the horses. “If anyone can find a way to do it, Dean Shellwood will.”
Charles believed him.
* * *
It was fully dark when the small party arrived at the gates of the university. There was a different guard at the gate. He did not respond to Amertious’s call, but came to the wall and held a torch out so he could see the newcomers.
“The town is an hour farther on. No work for you here.”
“We’re here to see the dean,” Amertious yelled, fully expecting to be obeyed as he was in full armor with his purple-and-gold guard uniform at the head of a company of knights.
“The entertainment for the spring pageant has already been arranged.” The guard turned to go back in.
Bobble flitt
ed up to the guard tower. That caught the guard by surprise.
“Please,” Bobble said when he was certain he had the guard’s full attention. “Dean Shellwood will see us, if you would be so kind as to tell her we are here.”
The guard hesitated.
Bobble went on. “I do not ask lightly. Please, just tell her Melissina has returned.”
“Fine. I will have you, only you, brought to the dean to present your case. If she agrees, your companions will be allowed in.”
Bobble inclined his head. “Thank you.”
Charles watched as Bobble disappeared into the campus.
Amertious pulled his horse to the gate, as if he were still expecting the gates to open for him.
Melissina brought her horse to the front of the wagon so she was even with Phichorian and Charles, but she didn’t speak.
Charles realized that she couldn’t go home either. He leaned over and said the only thing he knew could make her feel better. “If anyone can solve this, Dean Shellwood will.”
Melissina smiled a little. “And what if no one can?”
That was the thought Charles was avoiding. “Then I’m stuck here.” He looked over at her. “No offense, but...”
“But it isn’t your home.” Melissina sighed. “We’ll just have to hope and trust Dean Shellwood.”
Charles didn’t have to answer. Bobble came flitting out through the iron grate of the window as the door creaked open.
“She’ll see us, of course.”
Amertious spurred his horse through as soon as there was room.
“Thanks, Bobble,” Melissina whispered before following Amertious through.
Bobble settled on the seat back between Charles and Phichorian as Phichorian guided the wagon inside. There were grooms waiting to take the reins. They gave the cloth covered wagon several funny looks. Phichorian ignored them as he handed over the reins and swung down. Charles followed, trying to ignore the stares. Bobble followed them both, his head down.
* * *
Dean Shellwood was waiting for them in the rotunda of the main building, wearing a wool dressing gown and a lace cap over her hair. She went straight to Melissina and put her arm around the princess.
“Bobble told me. I’m so sorry my dear.”
“Thank you.”
“What can we do?” Amertious asked, one hand on his sword.
Dean Shellwood looked up but did not let go of Melissina. “You’ve traveled to the capitol and back twice today, so first I am having rooms in the North dormitory prepared for you to spend the night.”
“And tomorrow?” Melissina asked.
“I have some ideas, but I need to research a bit more.”
Melissina nodded.
“And if they don’t work?” Amertious asked.
Dean Shellwood looked hard at him. “One of them will, if you are steadfast enough to face it. Yes, Camille?”
“The rooms are ready, Dean.”
“Very good. Show Charles and Phichorian to forty-two and Sir Amertious to forty-four. I will take care of Her Highness.”
“Very good.” The student turned and left the room.
Phichorian put a hand on Charles’s shoulder and steered him towards the door. No one turned to see if Amertious was following them.
Chapter 8
Camille led them across the courtyard to a square building just behind the main hall.
“I only have one key for forty-two,” Camille said as she led them up the stairs.
“It’ll do,” Phichorian assured her.
“There are two beds though. Here we are. Breakfast is at seven. Just follow the crowd.”
The room was small and similar to the one they'd been in before, with two narrow beds, two small trunks, two small desks with three shelves above each, and nothing else.
“Which do you want?” Phichorian asked.
Charles shrugged.
Phichorian dropped his instruments on the far bed and sat on the chest by the desk across from it. Charles sat on the other bed.
“Do you really think she can do something?”
“Dean Shellwood? Honestly, I wasn’t sure until she said there was definitely one way.”
“If we’re steadfast enough.”
“Yes, she doesn’t seem too fond of it, but she wouldn’t have said anything about it if she didn’t think it was possible.” Phichorian leaned over. “She’ll let you stay here when they go. You and me, and Bobble I’d imagine. And Melissina, but she’ll insist on going with Amertious.”
Charles felt better and worse at the same time.
Phichorian smiled. “Not very flattering being left behind. I should know; I always am, but it’s safer than the alternative.”
“But I should help. I mean, I'm the reason...”
“First, you did help, you got Amertious in to rescue Melissina, then you found her...”
“You...”
“OK, we found her. And if she hadn’t come here to find out about your sweater, she’d have been captured too, and that would be worse.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“With her out here, we can rally the people. If both the king and his heir were prisoners, there would be no hope. Who would take over if we won?”
“OK, I’ll believe you.”
“Good, I’m flattered. Rest a bit and I’ll wake you when Dean Shellwood is ready for us.”
Charles was getting tired of being told to go to bed, but he yawned as he stretched out and was asleep before he could finish the thought.
* * *
Charles woke up to the smell of something good. He sat up and saw Phichorian sitting at the far desk. “I brought you a plate too. They haven’t improved the security of the kitchen since I was here.”
“Thanks.” Charles got out of bed and sat at the other desk. The good smell had been fried cheese, chicken, and fresh bread. Phichorian had found another firepot and was using it to keep the food warm.
Phichorian waited until Charles had eaten half of his food before he said, “There’s nothing new from the dean.”
Charles nodded.
“But she wants to meet with us at midnight.”
Charles looked up. “Did it sound hopeful?”
Phichorian tried to smile and failed. “There’s always the dangerous plan.”
“You think that’s it?”
“Frankly yes, but it’s an option. Go on, eat up. I have some strawberries and cream here that are just as good now as they were a minute ago, but they won’t be if you wait too long.”
Charles didn’t feel like eating. He didn’t feel like doing anything but going home. And Phichorian knew that. Charles could tell by the way he held the plate of strawberries out, waiting for him to take it. Charles did. Not eating wouldn’t help anything.
While Charles ate, Phichorian tuned his harp, meaning Charles didn’t have to talk. He was glad of that; he had nothing he wanted to say, and making things up seemed like too much effort.
Phichorian continued to fiddle with his instruments after Charles had finished eating. Charles kept himself busy by making and then straightening his bed with more care than he’d ever bothered with at home. They sat in comfortable silence until there was a knock on the door and Camille came to tell them Dean Shellwood wanted to see them.
* * *
Phichorian led Charles back through silent hallways and across the star-lit green to the main building and Dean Shellwood’s office. Charles kept seeing strange shadows in the classrooms and supply cupboards that had seemed so familiar during the day. He was not about to ask Phichorian if there were any ghost stories about the place, not so much because he was worried that Phichorian would think he was crazy, but because he was worried Phichorian would know all of them and Charles wouldn’t be able to sleep the entire time they stayed there.
At least the main building was still lit by lamps every few feet. They saw Amertious in the rotunda, but he did not slow down for them. Phichorian sped up a bit so that they were en
tering the dean’s office just as Amertious was sitting down. Melissina and Bobble were already there, sitting across from Dean Shellwood. It looked like they had been speaking to each other and stopped as soon as the others arrived. Dean Shellwood waited for them to be seated.
“Normally I would wait until you’d slept the night before we discussed this, but I have the feeling that none of you will rest until we do.”
A quick glance around the room told Charles that he was not the only one this applied to.
“I mentioned that there was at least one possibility. I think we will have to consider it. The unfortunate thing is that I have very little information on Necorious and his troops.”
“Then how do we get more?” Amertious asked.
“You will have to find someone with greater knowledge than I have. The Hermit of Ironvale has knowledge of most things. I would suggest you speak with him.”
“Most things?” Amertious asked. “How do you know he will know about this?”
Dean Shellwood did not look at Amertious but gave her answer to Melissina. “He was acquainted with Necorious, perhaps the last person to know him before this mania for reclaiming the throne overtook him. If anyone outside of Necorious’s inner circle knows the extent and weakness of his powers, then it will be the hermit.”
Amertious looked unconvinced. “If even the sprites knew how to defeat his warding spells...”
Bobble interrupted him, “That knowledge came from King Regulous.”
Dean Shellwood nodded. “I am not surprised. Regulous has studied Necorious’s work closely.”
Melissina spoke up, “You think this hermit would know Necorious as well as Father does?”
“In general, no, but I do think he knows more about the period after your father lost track of Necorious than anyone I would send you to. And that is the period you should be interested in.”
Melissina nodded. “Then we will go to the Hermit of Ironvale and ask for his help.” It was the first time Charles had heard Melissina give a real order before. He felt like he should salute, or at least stand up.
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