Chapter Eleven
Captured
The morning gleam above the hills had burnt away the dew from off the long high grasses. It swept away the water collected atop the flower petals. Del had much enjoyed horseback riding, whenever she’d had the opportunity to go. In fact, she was actually quite a natural at it, considering how many few times her mother would allow her to take the train out towards Bedford, where her aunt lived. (In truth, Del’s aunt and cousins were dreadful people, but she’d often tell herself that her aunt’s two mares were darling, and that that made up for the fact.)
This morning’s ride, however, was not at all enjoyable. For one, the air had warmed enough to be refreshing at an even trot, but at the speed they were galloping the wind grew chilled again. And secondly, because even though her captors had agreed to let her have her shoes, they were not, in the least, interested in her comfort or safety. And this could easily be seen by the way they drove the horses, and by how unconcernedly Del was forced up high onto the saddle.
Still, thankfully, within the hour, she could see a thin outline emerging from across the great plain, and as they drove on the outline became a city, and the walls grew higher and more defined; a regal sweeping city, with a well fortified wall made of massive tan colored stones. Beside this, spread out against the mountain range, lay a deep blue lake, glittering and calm. It was the kind of place one would never suspect evil of. Del wondered to herself, as they rushed toward the gate, how strange it was, then, that men like these would be allowed to live in such a beautiful place.
They flung through the gates, stopping only slightly for men and women in the streets, narrowly missing a few of them. At last they slowed and came halting at the palace gate.
���Ho, porter! Open up. King’s business,��� yelled the man who’d held Meris.
An old man’s voice answered back from behind the door, ���Alright now, no need to go on shout’n, I’m not as deaf as all that.��� Creaking hinges and the sound of a chain let loose, the door gave a crack, and was opened.
The next few moments were extremely chaotic for the two hostages. Shoved and coerced past this guard and that, down and through dimly lit halls, the whole process was undeniably confusing. What Del did manage to derive, however, through several hushed conversations, was that they were to be considered spies, and as such the two hired soldiers that found them were to be given a reward, but not before they were made to pay off a few, very recent, debts.
In a similar manner, pushed and herded and sold, they were made to walk into a wide columned room, the king’s throne ahead of them. Del’s hands began to sweat. The king was slouched, yet sitting as high upon the throne as he could (how this is possible, I’m not quite sure). Greedily he set about working the meat off an early lunch, and he seemed to pay them no attention at all.
The grimy guard, who had led them both in, told them to stand a certain distance away. He then went ahead to whisper something into his majesty’s fat ear.
���Eh��� Spies!��� the king exclaimed, briefly interrupting the guard’s message.
Del strained to hear even the slightest syllable of the guard’s story, but couldn’t. Meris, who was always much better at this sort of thing, heard every word clearly, but pretended as if he hadn’t.
���So, little girl,��� the king grinned. ���You’ve come to kill me, have you?���
Del’s eyes widened. ���No, I swear. We haven’t.���
���Are you so sure?��� he said wryly. ���Then what is this?���
He held up a small object by its strap. Del recognized the weapon immediately, and her face gave her away. (This was, of course, the knife Meris had brought along with them that morning for safety’s sake.)
���Ah. So it is true, then?���
���No! I promise… it’s not!���
Until then, Del had never yet been before a king, but quickly realized, by the way he shifted in his seat as she spoke, that she would be unwise to raise her voice again. So she added, with greater restraint, ��� ���Your Majesty.���
At this point, the king’s large face began to redden, and he looked as though he were going to yell, but stopped however, suddenly; beginning again, only this time in a rich, more gracious tone.
���My dear������ he said.
Del tried to fight back a rising tear. ���Forgive me,��� he continued.
���I have been unconsciously rude this whole time. After all, you’re not on trial here [he chuckled]. If you would just plainly tell me where you are from, and who sent you, then I’ll let you go free��� no harm done.���
Del may have lied here, except that she hadn’t even the faintest idea of where to start. And therefore, in the end, she decided the truth would be a safer bet.
���No one sent me… Your Majesty,��� she said.
���No one sent you?��� he asked, as though falsely surprised. ���So then, tell me, where are you from? And how did you end up in Miller’s Glade, all by yourself, without a horse?���
���We flew there������ Although, she did not completely believe herself as she said it.
The king laughed, to himself. ���Flew? Like a bird?���
���Yes, your Majesty��� well not quite,��� she began to explain.
���Little girl,��� his voice grew pointed, its pace quickened. ���Do you think I am a fool? Do you now?���
���No, sir, I-���
Then suddenly, erupting from his chair like a fire, he yelled, ���Then why do you treat me like one?!���
���Guards!��� he shouted, motioning towards Del. ���Take this spy away and clap her in irons, and bring that filth to the gardens [pointing at Meris]. At least, we may have some use for a trained rat.���
Chapter Twelve
Alone
Alone, and feeling very much so, Del sat huddled against the far wall of her cell. She drew these thoughts around in her head: that no one at Mayfield would ever believe her if she were to tell them her story, and would she ever get home again to tell it?
The dirt floor of the prison was dirtier than most. Droplets of dripping water made the occasional beat. And all the many awful, monotonous lectures she’d yet withstood this quarter seemed like roses compared to this place. She was alone, her face scuffed with dirt.
Drop by drop, springs of despair, tides of indignation, began to roll over her thoughts. Even Suzy Leeching, with her grotesque pigtailed hair, Del would have welcomed with open arms, for she was very much alone (or at least seemed to be).
���What are you crying for? You just got here,��� said a voice from out in the hall.
(It was good fortune, indeed, that the jailor was a decent man; ‘Didn’t think it right to put a helpless girl in chains, who was obviously not going to hurt anyone.’)
So at once, and cautiously, Del made her way over to the door, and peered through the open hatch. The dark prison hall was perfectly empty.
Still, in an attempt to justify herself, she said, ���I wasn’t crying.��� Although this was plainly untrue. Her voice was faint and scratched, for she had been crying.
���Sure you were,��� he repeated.
In an instant, Del saw whom the voice belonged to: a pair of eyes, young eyes, not much older than hers, were staring through the hatch directly across from her own.
���Do they think you’re a spy too?��� she asked.
���No,��� he said. Del could see his eyes look down, as he continued, ���They think I’m a murderer.���
There was a pause, in which Del tried very hard to think of a proper response, but not having much success, she asked, ���Well��� are you?���
���No,��� the prisoner replied. ���Not any more than you are a spy.���
Before this time, the thought that men and women could be locked away in prison, on false charges, never really occurred to her, and she was furious at the sort of justice that would allow for it.
���That wicked brute,��� she replied, referring to the king. ���Who has he said you’ve killed then, that you haven’t?���
���Our brother,��� he replied.
Del’s mouth gave a gasp, though the other prisoner’s eyes couldn’t see this.
A summary of the prisoner, Corwan’s, story, as she, at last, came to understand it: As he described, his name was Corwan, the third son of Reuel, a prince of the realm, and a true servant to his people. In a week’s time he was to be taken before the high council, to stand trial for the murder of his eldest brother, who was also named Reuel. (Del did not, however, understand this at first, and had so thoroughly confused herself that Corwan was made to retell a good portion of his story from the beginning.)
After this, she came to realize that Faron, Corwan’s middle brother (whom she was quite sure did not have the same name as anyone else in the story) was, almost certainly, the true murderer; And that all but one, of his eldest brother’s most loyal generals had been executed on suspicion of treason, or had met some other dubious end.
Corwan’s story, however, had to be cut short, towards the end, on account of Del’s almost constant interruptions: ���Is that just me?��� she would say. ���Can you hear that?��� and ���My word… that noise.��� To this, the prince would often repeat that he had no idea what noise she was referring to, that the prison was altogether deathly silent, and that she should, again, try to keep her voice down.
Light crept upon the cell walls like a sunrise, yet there were no windows. Bands of color swirled, breaking against the corners of the room. Then, suddenly, like a beam of light reflected from off a mirror, the roof of the prison broke away.
Stars and galaxies blurred around her. Her sides hurt. The air was pushed from her lungs by the sheer force of it, then blackness. She lay gasping, her hands pressed on wooden floorboards. She was back in the window room, alone.
Chapter Thirteen
Back on Earth
The ground was frosted the next morning. She slipped in her leather laced boots, running up the hard sanded path. Del was late. How she could be in trouble in two worlds at the same time completely astonished her; and was positively exhausting, if you’d stop to think about it, but she could not, she was late.
As Del came rushing into the courtyard, her fears were confirmed. It was emptied. The bell had already been rung. The echos of her hurried steps clashed against the cobble stones, and they were these same echos that followed her up the stairwell and bounded through the hall, stopping abruptly at the door.
Perhaps, if she were mindful about it, she could sneak in unnoticed. It was worth the momentary encouragement to hope in such a thing, but these hopes were to be short lived.
���Miss Calbefur.���
She froze. Every eye in the classroom turned to stare at her.
���Tardiness will not be tolerated in my classroom.���
Del of course knew this, and therefore nodded apologetically, trying to make it to her seat without any further disturbance.
But this did not seem to appease her professor, who continued, ���Since you have already squandered a good potion of the lecture��� and have, as it seems, no appreciation for silence, please speak up and tell the class what’s kept you.���
���I was-��� But before Del had the opportunity to explain herself she was interrupted again by her professor, who consequently had no real interest in hearing what she had to say.
���It was obviously of such dire importance as to keep you from your course work.���
As a matter of fact, it had been. The fate of an entire kingdom, and now also the lives of her friends were hanging in the balance. But to explain such a thing or anything remotely like it to this buggish woman would have been a futile endeavor. So she said nothing, except what she knew from experience would set her in the least amount of trouble.
���Yes, Master Kaufield. It won’t happen again.���
Del had learnt, thus after a tough series of trials and error, that the thing adults had most liked to hear, more so than nearly every other thing in the world, was that ���it [whatever it may be] will never happen again���; and she’d often used this to her advantage whenever she had the chance.
Later that day, during recreation period, Del sat by herself at the far end of the yard, her head buried in her hands. Her mind was overwhelmed. A lot now rested on her shoulders, and this had all happened so suddenly, and she hadn’t asked for any of it.
She was in need of some magnificent plan to get back, and she was sure she needed more time. Even so, as it turned out, what Del had need of most, although she was simply unaware she had needed it, was a friend.
For this reason then it was good fortune indeed, that who should come to Delany’s aid, but none other than Mattie Hardy. (Who was not as much of a friend as Del would have liked. Yet not necessarily a true enemy either, which made her, at least, a permissible candidate, as most would measure.)
���What’s the matter?���
Mattie had left the other group of girls and was now, surprisingly, standing just a wide step’s length in front of her. Del hadn’t noticed her walk up, she had not been paying much attention. And it took her till the end of a deep breath to regain her composure.
���You startled me,��� she said.
���Oh. I’m sorry��� [then glancing behind her] it’s just we’d all wondered why you’ve been such a mess this week.���
���So, they’ve sent you over here to check on me then?��� Del replied.
Mattie furrowed her eyes at the notion. ���No one sent me,��� she said. ���It’s just people were talking, coming up with their own ideas, and I didn’t think that was right proper to do.���
���Oh������ A perplexed sort of look came across Del’s face, ���But then if I tell you, you’ll just go blabbing about me to all your friends.���
���No I won’t,��� she quickly replied. ���Not if you didn’t want me to������
Here, under normal circumstances, Del would have begun to tell her story, except that she was not entirely convinced that this Hardy girl, who had just so recently been an outright enemy, would keep good on her word.
���Yah, and if I tell you something bonkers, the kind of thing people get teased their whole lives for, do you promise to keep it a secret then?���
���What is it?���
���Do you promise?��� Del asked, an emphatic strain in her voice.
���Yes, yes��� fine, I promise.���
After this bit of appeasement Del seemed more at ease. So she began to recount, from the beginning, her stay at Greyford: about Meris and the window room, about Faron, the evil king who had usurped his brother’s throne, and the prince, Corwan, who was to be put on trial in less than a week’s time, and who would almost certainly be given a false trial, that is unless she were able to stop it.
Throughout all this, Mattie sat politely for the greater part of the hour, taking in every word. In the end, the two sat confounded, staring at the other girls playing around the yard. It was getting late. The warden would have someone out to ring the bell soon.
At last Mattie spoke up. ���You’re serious right? Not pulling my leg are you?���
���No. Honest,��� Del replied. Her head still full of worry and concern, so she rested her face back in her hands.
���What am I going to do?��� Del repeated to herself.
And Mattie, who had come to sit down beside her during her story could clearly hear these words. At this moment, Del looked as if she hadn’t a friend in
the world; and it was for this reason that it then occurred to Mattie that she must instantly make a difficult decision. And consequently, if she were to choose to trust Delany, and her crazy stories, she would not be able to just stop there.
���What are you going to do? What are we going to do is more like it,��� she answered back.
Del sat astonished. ���You’re fooling…���
���Never,��� Mattie said, still trying to gain her determination. ���The way I see it is you’re likely to be caught, or killed, if you try going back there alone. You’ll need my help, and you don’t really have a choice about it.���
She was insistent by now, and she was right. Del knew she was right. At this point, it appeared she had no other option but to accept Mattie’s help.
The bell rang.
���Thank you������ Del said clutching her breath, yet still loud enough so that Mattie could plainly hear her, even above the sound of the bell.
Chapter Fourteen
In the Moonlight
Late the following evening, by the light of a nearly full moon, a dark hooded figure could be seen darting between the stone columns of the courtyard. That is to say, she would have been seen, most certainly seen, if anyone had been awake to notice her. Thankfully no one had.
At the end of the courtyard she paused to check behind her, before rushing off down the duskily lit path, and running slightly uphill, toward an old mysterious manor that looked grey in the moonlight.
This hooded figure was, of course, Mattie Hardy, as anyone could tell by the floundering way in which she snuck through the open night. Mattie had never been one for sneaking. In fact, this was very well the first time she could remember purposefully doing something wrong in a good long while, and certainly the first time she’d ever broken a rule while at Mayfield.
But there was no use in being careful about that now. She was on her way to save a prince, a kingdom, and something like a talking badger, if she’d understood correctly. To her conscience, it seemed only right to break curfew in one world, given that she was on her way to save a life in another.
The Histories of Earth, Books 1-4: In the Window Room, A Prince of Earth, All the Worlds of Men, and Worlds Unending Page 4