The Tale of Mally Biddle

by M. L. LeGette

  After she had finished the breakfast Gladys had brought her, Mally was visited by a very panicked Lita, Gerda, and Nathan.

  “We’ve just heard!” Lita cried, sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing Mally’s hand. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” Mally responded truthfully.

  “What happened?” Nathan asked. “Meriyal and Nanette were going on about someone pushing you.”

  Mally nodded and Lita gasped. Gerda inhaled sharply, color draining rapidly from her face.

  “Dear Lenzar! Who?”

  “Bayard, of course,” Mally answered, looking at Lita as if this was obvious.

  Gerda frowned and glanced at Nathan who mirrored her actions.

  “It couldn’t have been Bayard, Mally,” said Gerda.

  “What are you talking about? Of course it was Bayard,” Mally argued, confused that Gerda didn’t believe her. “He hates me.”

  Gerda licked her lips nervously and glanced at Nathan again.

  “That I agree with, but he rang for me last night. Wanted his fire tended,” Gerda explained. “When I realized it was Bayard calling, I asked Nathan to come with me.” Gerda swallowed.

  Nathan took hold of Gerda’s hand.

  But Mally wasn’t swayed.

  “So he got me after the two of you left,” she pressed.

  “Do you remember what time it was when you were called?” Gerda asked.

  Mally was about to say no when she remembered hearing the clock toll the hour on her way to the west wing. “It was a little before three.”

  “I managed to get out of Bayard’s room right before that. I heard the chimes when I closed his door.”

  Mally sat stunned as this information repeated itself in her brain. Bayard had been with Gerda and Nathan when Mally’s bell had summoned her. Bayard couldn’t have been in the guest wing—he was in his chambers in the northeast wing.

  “But—but who else was it, then?” Mally asked, looking at each of her companions in turn.

  “You’re sure you were pushed?” Lita asked carefully.

  “Yes!” Mally insisted.

  There was a rather pronounced silence as Gerda and Nathan shifted uncomfortably. Finally, they wished her a speedy recovery and excused themselves. Lita stayed seated on the bed.

  “Who was it then?” Lita asked quietly once they were alone.

  “I don’t know,” Mally fumed, feeling her stomach churn. She had been so sure it was Bayard. Who else would want to kill her? Molick? But pushing someone down a dark staircase didn’t seem like his style.

  “Do you think whoever it was—” Lita swallowed and lowered her voice, “do you think they suspect?”

  Mally’s eyes widened.

  “Possibly.” She forced the word out of her suddenly dry throat. “But I don’t see how. And if they did, why not tell Molick? If he knew, I’d be in the dungeons instead of here.”

  Lita’s pale eyes were fearful as they scanned the empty room.

  ***

  When Mally was allowed to leave the sickroom the next day, she walked down the halls staring at everyone she passed. Someone had pushed her. Someone had known that ringing that bell would call her and that she would have to travel down that staircase.

  Someone had gone through a lot of trouble.

  Mally had been given the job of carrying washed sheets back to their designated chambers. Lita had volunteered to help.

  “You’ve kept the man long enough, Illius.”

  Mally and Lita stopped walking. They stood right outside King Salir’s Chamber, his sheets in their arms. The heavy doors to the chamber were cracked open. Shooting a curious glance at Lita, Mally inched a little closer and inclined her ear.

  “I’ll keep him as long as I want,” came Molick’s nasty reply.

  “You need to scare him some more?” King Salir sounded amused. “I doubt that man will ever go near the tower again.”

  Mally’s eyes widened and she stared at Lita whose mouth was open. Was His Majesty talking about Bob? Was he … could he possibly be … arguing for his release? Mally stepped closer as Molick said, “True. I’ve questioned him extensively. He isn’t a rebel.” He sounded highly disappointed.

  “You will catch them in time.”

  “I could catch them now if I had more knights,” Molick replied with a hint of insistence.

  “More knights? If you feel you need more you can take some of the parameter guards—”

  “My knights would be too spread out!” Molick argued. “Those must stay on the walls!”

  “You have more than enough knights, Illius,” King Salir said patiently, as if speaking to a spoiled child. “There is no need to have more.”

  “There is always need for more!” Molick snapped heatedly. “I expect you to be grateful that my knights have been keeping this castle safe from those mongrels!”

  “I have never been ungrateful for your abundant skills. And I have every belief that you will catch those that anger you so.”

  Mally stumbled backwards in haste as Molick’s loud footsteps reached the doors. They swung open violently; Mally doubted that Molick noticed them at all as he stormed past them down the hall.

  “Ah, my sheets have arrived,” said King Salir pleasantly, catching sight of Mally and Lita standing before the open doors.

  The first thing Mally did after making King Salir’s bed was find Meriyal. Lita rushed after her at a jog, asking why she was in such a hurry, but Mally ignored her. It was lunch time for the servants and Mally told Lita to save her a place on the bench as she weaved through the Servants’ Chamber, looking for Meriyal.

  When she spotted her, she hovered at her shoulder until she had finished speaking to Joan.

  “We need to talk,” Mally whispered.

  Meriyal raised her eyebrows before walking into the storage room. The moment Meriyal had shut the door, Mally bounded forward in jubilation.

  “Bob is going to be released!”

  Meriyal stared in surprise.

  “Where did you learn this?”

  “From His Majesty. I just overheard him telling Molick to let Bob go.” Mally was so ecstatic that she was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  “Do you know when this will happen?” Meriyal asked.

  Mally paused in her bouncing, her face falling slightly.

  “No,” she admitted.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll check on him again tonight. Let’s both hope his cell is empty!”

  ***

  Mally could hardly sleep, she was so anxious about Bob. Molick didn’t seem happy about being told what to do. Would he release him, but hurt him? Or would he kill him and make more room in the dungeons that way? Would he just ignore the king?

  Not able to stand the tension any longer, Mally rose much earlier than Lita and Gerda and slipped down to Archie’s kitchen. He and Rosa were already up, cooking breakfast, and Mally kept herself preoccupied by sipping tea and beating eggs. Just before it was time for the other servants to rise, the kitchen door opened and an exhausted Meriyal, Mildred, and Evelyn entered. Rosa rushed to get them tea and Mally stood to give one of them a chair.

  “Got a scone there, Archie?” Evelyn asked in her usual moody voice.

  “Currant or apricot?” Archie asked.

  “Currant,” Evelyn grunted.

  As Rosa poured tea for a very sour-faced Evelyn, Mildred inched closer to Mally and whispered in her ear, “Bob’s out.”

  Mally whipped around so fast that her hair slapped Evelyn.

  “You can go see him,” said Meriyal quietly, a tired yet pleased expression on her face. “Hurry. He should be at the stables by now.”

  Mally nearly knocked over a chair in her haste. She ran full speed to Bob’s stable. And there he was, sitting with his walking stick on a makeshift bench outside his stable door. The pre-dawn lit lamps bathed him in yellow.

  “Mally!” Bob cried in happy surprise.

  “Oh, Bob! Are you all right?” Mally fell to her knees before him, ta
king in his scruffy chin and wrinkled eyes. He was alive. He really was alive! But there was a nasty cut on his cheek and dried blood and grime matted his beard. He was much too thin. His cheekbones jutted out harshly.

  “I’m fine,” he said a bit too quickly.

  Mally noticed that he was shaking.

  “What did they do to you?” Mally whispered, realizing suddenly that Bob’s wide eyes kept looking down the road that led to his stable—as if he expected to see knights marching toward them.

  Bob shook his head violently.

  “Don’t want to talk about that,” he said gruffly.

  Mally swallowed with difficulty and rested a hand on his quivering knee.

  “How about I take you to the Lone Candle for some breakfast?” she asked softly. And with a sturdy hand on his back, Mally took him to the pub.

  Mally stayed with Bob as long as she possibly could. Galen gave Bob a feast fit for a duke. He’d brought him baskets of rolls with jams and honey. He’d mounded his plate with fat sausages and sizzling bacon. He waited on him hand and foot. And afterward, he made him a warm bath.

  “Thank Lenzar they let him go,” Galen whispered to her as she stood at the pub’s door, about to leave.

  Mally’s smile glowed.

  “Keep an eye on him. Please, Galen.”

  Galen nodded and hurried back to give him another pot of tea. Bob waved merrily to Mally. His cheeks were flushed and the twinkle had returned to his eyes.

  On her way back to the castle, Mally deliberately took a detour. She stood in the central square, looking at Bosc Bell Tower. She stared at it in curiosity. A knight leaned against the bolted door, picking at his teeth.

  Bob had wanted to take back some power … had wanted to take back something that had once been his—had once been the people’s. It might have been done in a foolish drunken state of mind, but the desire was real. Mally suddenly wondered if there was something in the tower that Molick didn’t want anyone seeing. But that seemed silly. What would Molick hide in a bell tower that could endanger him if discovered? And what would endanger Molick? The only thing he was concerned about was keeping the people too scared to fight against him. And one way to do that was to lock people out of places that had once been peaceful safe havens … places that were once very important to the people … places like …

  Mally gasped so loudly that the knight sitting at the tower’s entrance stared at her. The bell tower wasn’t the only building that had been locked up. How could she have overlooked it? She spun around and ran to the castle. It took her nearly twenty minutes to find Lita and when she finally did she dragged her into a broom closet.

  “Mally—what—Mally, what’s wrong with you?” Lita exclaimed as she was crammed against pails and mops.

  “The catacombs.” Mally was so energized she could hardly stand still, but to keep from showering Lita in dust rags, she tried to contain herself. “The princess’s tomb is in the catacombs.”

  Lita froze.

  “But—but what would we learn by going in there?”

  “We’d know once and for all if she’s dead,” Mally said in a rushed undertone.

  “But it’s locked,” Lita argued, staring at Mally as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. “Molick and King Salir are the only ones with the key.”

  “We’ll just have to get it from one of them, then.”

  Lita looked at her, stunned, before saying, “Do you have any idea what you just said?”

  “Yes.” Mally was startled at the conviction in her own voice. “It’s time we found out.”

  “But there’s no way of getting in!” Lita hissed, now looking sick. “We’re never going to get that key from either one of those men!”

  “We’ll find a way,” said Mally firmly. “We’re going to the catacombs.”

  27 The Catacombs

  Sir Illius Molick was a man of habit. Order was soothing. Calming. Disorder was not. That was probably why the few successful revolts by the rebel group had upset him so deeply. Sir Illius Molick simply did not approve of disorder.

  But a man of habit was a man easily led into a trap.

  Every night after dinner, Molick joined King Salir in His Highness’s chambers to discuss who knew what—though Mally suspected the conversation revolved around his number one problem: the rebels. Then, at precisely ten o’clock, Molick would join his favorite knights in his personal study. They talked, smoked and drank. It was this nightly gathering that Mally and Lita began to consider seriously.

  Mally and Lita spent a whole week planning. Mally wasn’t even bothering to kid herself. If they were caught trying to steal the key from Molick, they wouldn’t receive a short trip into the dungeons. Stealing something off Molick’s person would be a serious crime.

  The only reason they had focused on Molick instead of King Salir was because Molick required that his favorite drink be brought to him during these nightly gatherings. King Salir had his own private stock of wines to choose from in his chamber, leaving him in no need of a servant to pour him a goblet full.

  Nathan always handled Molick’s wine.

  “He’s going to be really suspicious that we want to take the wine this one night,” said Lita in a hushed undertone as they walked to the Servants’ Chamber for breakfast. “Should we tell him why?”

  Mally shook her head.

  “He’ll ask too many questions,” Mally whispered, though the idea of Nathan joining them was highly tempting. “We’ll just have to insist. ‘You’ve been working so hard, Nathan. Let us take this one and you turn in early.’ Things like that.”

  “Things like that,” Lita repeated nervously.

  Mally shot Lita what she hoped was a confidence-boosting smile, but the only thing that changed on Lita’s pale face was her mouth tightening.

  They entered the Servants’ Chamber and easily found Nathan sitting beside Gerda. Seeing the two of them together sparked an idea in Mally’s brain.

  “Good morning, Nathan,” Mally greeted him cheerfully. She buttered him a muffin.

  “Thank you,” said Nathan, his eyebrows rising in mild surprise.

  “Say Nathan, Lita and I were thinking, why don’t you let us take care of Molick’s wine tonight?” Mally said nonchalantly.

  Nathan’s eyebrows rose into his hair. Gerda stared at Mally. Lita shuffled her feet.

  “Why would you want to do that?” Nathan asked.

  “It’s our treat. You and Gerda hardly get to spend any time alone together.” Mally stopped there, hoping that Gerda grabbed hold of her hint.

  Gerda’s eyes widened dramatically and she said eagerly, turning to Nathan, “Oh, let them do it, Nathan. Just for tonight.”

  Nathan couldn’t begin to argue, with Gerda smiling so brightly, and he nodded to Mally and Lita.

  “He always takes a bottle of black currant wine.”

  “At ten o’clock?”

  Nathan nodded.

  Jubilant, Mally turned on her heel and walked away from Nathan and Gerda. She wound her arm through Lita’s and whispered in her ear, “Now we get some dreamless sleep.”

  It could have been that the reason Lita was so pale was that she had agreed to cause a major distraction in Archie’s kitchen, something that was just as dangerous as stepping on a knight’s toes. Upon entering the kitchen, Lita quickly scanned the busy room until her eyes landed upon a giant stack of apples, piled precariously on a table. Shooting Mally a knowing glance, she strode straight toward the mountainous stack.

  “Hello, Archie!” she said so loudly that Archie and Rosa flinched. They hadn’t heard them enter. Lita slapped Archie on the back.

  “Good morning,” Archie replied, his mustache twitching peevishly.

  “Say, this is quite the pile of apples,” Lita commented. “What are you going to do with all of them?”

  Sensing the impending explosion, Mally began to inch slowly backwards toward the cabinet where Rosa kept her herbs.

  “Be careful around those!” Archie yelled, but it was t
oo late. Lita had ‘accidentally’ bumped into the table, sending the mountain of apples rolling. Like a waterfall, they cascaded onto the floor, covering every inch of stone.

  “Oh, no! I’m so sorry!” Lita kept repeating as Rosa and Archie dove for the table, trying to catch the ones that hadn’t yet fallen.

  Quick as a flash, Rosa and Archie fully occupied, Mally yanked the cabinet doors open, found the jar labeled ‘Dreamless Sleep’ and poured a good handful of the tea mixture into a very thin sack. She replaced the jar, closed the cabinet, pocketed the sack, and spun around to see Lita, Archie, and Rosa on their hands and knees retrieving apples. Somehow, all the apples Lita touched went sailing across the room.

  “Out! Out! OUT!” Archie screamed, looking more and more like a raging bull. Lita stumbled in her haste to follow Mally out of the kitchen.

  “Did you get it?” Lita asked breathlessly, her cheeks flushed from the excitement of goading Archie and living to tell about it.

  Mally patted her pocket and nodded.

  “So all we have left to do, is put this into the bottle and wait for them to fall asleep,” said Mally confidently.

  The grin upon Lita’s face faltered slightly.

  “My aunt always told me, ‘Never poke a sleeping cat in the eye.’ I wonder if she would say the same thing about Molick?”

  A quarter of an hour before ten that night, Mally and Lita once again entered Archie’s kitchen. At the sight of Lita, Archie’s eyes narrowed and his mustache bristled.

  Lita calmly glanced around the kitchen.

  “I see you’ve cleaned up the apples,” she observed cheerfully.

  Archie’s eyes narrowed to slits.

  “Rosa,” Mally said quickly, afraid Archie was about to knock Lita atop the head with a skillet. “We need Molick’s wine.”

  “You’re taking it?” Rosa asked in surprise. “Nathan always does.”

  “We’re doing it for him tonight,” Mally explained.