by B. K. Parent
Charles gave a slight tip to his hat and lightly snapped the reins to signal his horse to move on through the gate. Thorval knew he needed to get out of the night wagon, before the driver stopped for his first pick up. He carefully made his way to the back of the night wagon and peered out through a slight gap between the night wagon’s back gate and the tarp. The night wagon turned down a side alley and passed by a stack of boxes piled up next to a door. Thorval dove out of the night wagon and rolled, came up on his feet, and quickly scrambled behind the boxes. Charles turned to look, but seeing nothing, shook his head, and continued driving down the alley.
Thorval knew he could not stay where he was, for he smelled worse than the refuse that was washing down the gutter in the middle of the alley. If the peacekeepers did not see him, they could certainly track him just by smell alone. Of course, if they set the dogs out after him, he thought, at least the smell of muck clinging to him would confuse them. He was glad he had left the flour sack and its contents behind, after he had scrubbed it in the muck, so hopefully Charles would not notice it in the back corner of the night wagon. It would not do to be caught with the silk merchant’s clothing, especially the very identifiable waistcoat.
Keeping to the shadows, Thorval moved silently down the alley. When he reached the mouth, he warily peeked out and immediately drew his head back in. There were two peacekeepers at the other end of the block, in the direction he was heading. Fatigue was beginning to take its toll, and Thorval wondered if he had the strength to climb up to the rooftop level and try to make his way above the roving searchers. That decision was taken out of his hands when he heard the searchers walking towards the mouth of the alley he was standing in. Pulling himself up on a window ledge, he found hand and footholds in the crumbling brick of a narrow building. By working his way up and across to the next building over, he managed to scramble over the short wall edging the roof and laid there catching his breath, hoping he had not made too much noise nor attracted the attention of the peacekeepers below.
As he lay there, he began to wonder just what it was he and Arial were supposed to have stolen from the Lady at the Inn of the Three Hares. She must have a lot of influence in Crestbury, or what she lost must be mighty important for it to have produced such a massive search. Thorval also wondered if the searchers had found the flute player and hoped not, for he did not think any of them would be treated kindly if caught. He suspected the questioning would be painful, and an “I really don’t know what you are talking about; I am innocent” answer, even if true, would not be believed.
Waiting until he could no longer hear anyone below him, Thorval peered down into the alley and saw it was clear. He then began walking across the rooftops, leaping the small gaps between buildings, and moving ever closer to the end of the lane. Once there, he hoped he would be able to find a way down. Crouched behind the short wall edging the roof, he was about to look down, when it suddenly occurred to him that he needed to return to the garden where they had changed clothes, for he had left his cane behind. At least he thought it had been his cane, but after the young man at the Inn of the Three Hares had handed it to him, he had not really looked at it. Nor had he looked at the paper that same young man had given him. Fortunately, he had remembered to take it out of his coat pocket and had tucked it in his waist pouch before he had put the coat in the flour sack. He needed once again to get back to the garden where he and Arial had changed out of their disguises to try to retrieve the cane.
Thorval realized he would have to correct his course if he were to find his way back to the garden where he had left the cane. Keeping hunched over and moving as quietly as possible, he crossed the roof and found that the gap between this building and the next was not large. He cleared the edge of the next building with room to spare. What he had not expected was the amount of furtive traffic on the rooftops. He became very cautious as he darted from the shadow of one chimney to the next, gradually making his way back towards the Inn of the Three Hares and the house garden. Visiting the same place three times in one night was risky at best, but he hoped his luck would hold, and he could then make his way safely to Master Bircholm’s house, get cleaned up, and not have anyone be the wiser as to this night’s activities.
Beezle was glad his stint as musician was finally over at the Inn of the Three Hares. He had tried his best to play in such a way that Nissa and Jonzee could listen in on the conversation at the next table. It was just bad luck he had been called into the room where they were dining. He was only supposed to be the backup plan in case Nissa and Jonzee were not seated near the plotters. He felt pretty sure that Nissa had recognized him and had been impressed that she did not show that she had, except for a split second when, if you knew her, her eyes gave her away. He did wonder about her calling attention to both of them when she and Jonzee were getting ready to leave by giving him some coin for his playing, but then perhaps she had just been trying to stay in character.
After Nissa and Jonzee had stepped out of the main door of the Inn, and Beezle had been dismissed from the alcove, the innkeeper had motioned him over and given him a small pouch which jingled of coin.
“Lord Gastoff and his party wish to express their appreciation for your playing. I, of course, have already taken my share. Think of it as your fee for being allowed to play in such a fine establishment as this. Should you wish to play here tomorrow, you will be fine with this arrangement. Now off with you. Use the kitchen door,” the innkeeper said, in a voice that would brook no argument.
Had Beezle needed to earn a living as a flute player, he might have put up a token fight, or perhaps not, since this night of playing in a fine inn had earned him a tidy bit of coin already, so he headed through the swinging doors to the kitchen. He had just passed through when he heard a commotion coming from the small room he had been playing in.
“It is gone. It was in my bag and now it is gone,” said Lady Farcroft. “Spread out and look. It may have fallen out when you knocked over my bag.”
“Ah, here is the pouch,” a male voice said.
“Give that here,” said the woman. “It is empty! Keep looking. Search the corners. One of you, go find that fellow who was playing the flute. You, sir, go catch up with that merchant fellow and the lass. Hurry, there is no time to lose!”
Beezle knew, at that moment, that he needed to be gone. It would not do to have someone take a close look at the flute player. In the dim lighting of the Inn of the Three Hares, he thought he was well-disguised, but if he were caught, and someone took a close look at him or shaved off his boot-blackened beard, they would know his identity. At the very least, that would be a great embarrassment to his uncle and would certainly not be good for Beezle’s health. Moving quickly through the kitchen, he tossed the bag of coins he had gotten from the innkeeper to the man cleaning the pots, the only one who was still in the kitchen at this late hour, and asked “Is there another way out?”
“Aye, the narrow stairs back of the pantry will take ye to the second floor, and if ye go to the end of the hall ’tis a door that will take ye to the side alley rather than the back, or take ye up to the roof. Ye can make yer way halfway ’cross town on the roofs, if ye are a good jumper.” As he said this, he poured the coins out of the pouch and looked up amazed. “This ’tis enough to feed me family for a fortnight, sir. What else can I do for ye?”
“If they come looking for me, tell them I left through the back door, and you saw me head left towards . . . I don’t know. What is to the left?” asked Beezle.
“I’ll tell ’em ye asked about a cheap pub, and I directed ye to the Wheel and Barrel just two lanes over.”
“I am in your debt,” replied Beezle, “and thanks.”
With the exchange finished, Beezle fled up the servants’ stairs. Just as the kitchen man opened the back door, two men burst into the kitchen from the dining area.
Beezle made it up the servants’ stairs and do
wn the hall, but just as he slipped through the door at the end of the hall, he heard footsteps pounding up the stairwell he was in, so he quickly moved upward before he became trapped. When he came out in the hallway at the top of the stairs, he was momentarily confused, for the stairs did not continue upward to the roof as the kitchen man had suggested. He felt both trapped and betrayed until he spotted a very small door at the other end of the hallway. He rushed there and opened the door to find what he had suspected. This small door opened outward revealing a square shaft with a ladder leading upward attached to the opposite wall. It occurred to Beezle as he crawled through the door that this shaft was the way chimneysweeps got onto the roof to clean the chimneys. He quickly climbed the ladder, opened the small door to the roof, and exited, running swiftly to hide behind the far chimney.
Beezle waited for quite a long time, but the roof door did not open behind him, so he felt it was safe to begin to find his way across the roofs to the house his aunt was staying at. Carefully adjusting his two instrument bags about himself, making sure everything was fastened in tight so nothing fell out and clattered on the roof tiles giving him away, he moved forward. Orienting himself to where he was in relation to where he needed to go, he swiftly began to cross from roof to roof, heading towards his destination. He was surprised at the amount of traffic that flowed silently across the rooftops, slowing his progress as he slipped from one dark shadow to the next.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Beezle could hear the noise of quite a few folks below him, as what must be the search for Nissa, Jonzee, and himself began in earnest. He knew he needed to get to the house his aunt was staying at, and transform himself from itinerant flute player back into Lady Hadrack’s nephew. He hoped she was not in any danger, having been part of setting up this night’s work, just as he hoped Nissa and Jonzee had made it back safely to change out of their disguises.
Moving with extreme caution, Beezle headed in the direction of his aunt’s temporary quarters, making sure he was not spotted from below, nor waylaid on the rooftop route. Once he had made it safely to the roof of the house his aunt was staying at, he checked the small roof access door, only to find it locked. Good for them, he thought, but not so good for me. Looking over the edge, Beezle noticed a small open window just below that he thought he might be able to reach. Inching his feet over the edge of the roof, sliding ever so slowly downward, he felt for the window ledge. Just as his foot touched it, someone grabbed his legs from inside the house. If he kicked out, he quite possibly would lose his balance and drop several stories to the ground. He knew he was not going to get much purchase on the roof to pull himself back up.
“Hold still lad, if you would please. If you fall and go splat in the garden, your aunt will never forgive me.”
“Master Clarisse?”
“That would be me,” Master Clarisse said. “Now bend your knees while I grab your belt, and let us see if we can get you inside before the neighbors notice, and we ruin your aunt’s reputation. That’s it now. Good. Now just duck your head. There you are.”
“What are you doing here?” Beezle asked.
“What are you doing climbing in the maid’s window, and what is that on your face?” Master Clarisse countered.
“Is my aunt here? Is she alright?”
“Yes and yes. Now answer my questions,” said Master Clarisse, with a hint of exasperation in her voice.
“I’ll answer all of your questions, but first I need to shave off this beard and change clothes. There is a search out for a flute player, and I don’t think it would be a good thing if he were caught. Take these instruments and put them in the music room, if they have one, or find some other ordinary place for them to go in this house. Could you please send my aunt up, so I can get her to help me?” Beezle answered.
Master Clarisse caught the anxiousness in his voice, so did as he asked. Moments after Master Clarisse had left the room, Beezle’s aunt entered and captured him in a fierce hug, almost squeezing the breath out of him.
“Are you alright? What is happening?” she inquired.
“Once I get changed and get this beard shaved off, I’ll answer all your questions. If the peacekeepers start a door to door search for a flute player, you do not want them to find one in the maid’s room. Now could you please direct me to water, soap, a very sharp shaving knife, and my own clothes?”
Struck by the urgency in Beezle’s voice, Lady Hadrack said, “There is a guest room one floor down that is set up for you. Third door on the left. All that you might need is in there. When you are done, we will meet you in the parlor.”
Lady Hadrack then gave Beezle a quick kiss on his cheek, and Beezle swiftly followed her out of the maid’s room.
When Beezle appeared in the doorway of the parlor, he certainly looked more himself and not at all like the flute player who had left the Inn of the Three Hares.
“So, I suppose you are wondering why I dropped in on you this way,” teased Beezle.
“That is only one of several questions I have for you at the moment,” commented Master Clarisse. “The questions I asked you upstairs that did not get answered have not flown away with the passing of time.”
“Master Clarisse, dear, sit and have some tea. I suspect the tale this lad is about to spin for us will take a few minutes,” said Lady Hadrack.
“Ah, a spot of tea is just the thing to take the chill out of a rooftop roam. Thank you, Aunt,” said Beezle, drawing a narrowed look from Master Clarisse. “As you know, a meeting was to take place at the Inn of the Three Hares this night. My uncle, Lord Hadrack, and Master Rollag felt it would be important for those who are loyal to the Crown to gather as much information as possible so they could at the very least have some idea as to what those tower conspirators are planning. My uncle had me head out right away before fair’s end in Glendalen, which is why I did not have a chance to say goodbye to you, Evan, or Nissa. I have been unfortunately blessed with a very fast-growing beard, which on a day to day basis is a nuisance, but in this case provided me with a fairly quick disguise. I used some temporary dye to color it, and voila, an itinerant flute player arrived at the fair.”
“I did not know you could play the flute,” said Master Clarisse.
“Neither did Nissa, and was she ever surprised when she recognized me. Just so you know, I am a pretty good flute player, if I do say so myself. Won a few contests at local music festivals in my home region. My disguise was pretty good too, since I have been playing near you both at the fair, and you didn’t recognize me, but I digress.”
“I’ll try to speed this story up,” said Lady Hadrack. “My husband sent Beezle off to see if he could somehow get the owner of the Inn of the Three Hares to hire him. It was known to us that the Inn’s owner often would have a harpist or a flute player play during the evening meal. He prides himself on fine dining and a fine atmosphere. Obviously, he hired Beezle.”
“Well yes, he hired me to play each night of the fair. I may change my mind about what I want to do when I grow up. When my apprenticeship is over with Uncle, maybe I will take to the road as a traveling musician. I actually have been making pretty good coin,” Beezle said, with a twinkle in his eye.
“Oh, get on with you, you rascal, and finish this overly long tale, so we know what is really happening,” said Lady Hadrack.
“I was set up in the large room at the Inn of the Three Hares and had settled into a space that would allow me to be out of the way of the diners, and yet perhaps get some idea what was being said by our tower group when they settled in. Nissa and Jonzee came in first. I would not have recognized them if I had not recognized the dress. I am glad you had showed it to me at the keep.” Turning to Master Clarisse he said, “This plan to ask Nissa and Jonzee to spy on our little band of conspirators was made back before we left Glendalen, and I helped pack the disguises. If I had not known what the dress was to look like, or
had not have been able to identify the waistcoat Jonzee was to wear, I would not have known either of them. That Jonzee is a clever one. They tried to sit him and his ‘niece’ next to the kitchen, but he slipped a few coins to the one in charge of seating and had her seat them in the small alcove off the main room. I should have thought that that was where our tower group would have their meal and meeting, but I had not thought it through. Jonzee obviously had. So Jonzee and Nissa ordered dinner, and I have to admit, I was impressed. Did you tell him how to act, and what to order before you sent him off?” Beezle asked, directing his question to his aunt.
“No, there was no time. Why?”
“He seemed to know just how to handle himself in a fine restaurant. It struck me as odd. He was way too smooth for a day laborer. I wonder what his background is? But that’s a question hopefully we’ll get to ask him.” Beezle shook himself and began to speak again before Master Clarisse could interject another question. “The group from the tower arrived and headed into the alcove that Jonzee and Nissa were seated in. All was looking up, but then I was requested to come into the alcove and play. I tried to play as quietly as I could, so our friends could overhear the conversation the tower group was having, but I’m not sure how successful I was. Finally, Jonzee and Nissa couldn’t linger any longer and had to leave. That was the odd part of the evening.”