by B. K. Parent
“What was odd?” Lady Hadrack asked.
“On her way out, Nissa approached me and put some coins in my hat. I wondered about it at the time, for it drew attention to the three of us. Was she just doing what she thought she should as the niece of a silk merchant, or was she trying to give me a message? I don’t know. I had hoped to keep playing, but a man with the tower group told me to clear out, and then the innkeeper called me over. He gave me a bag of coins given to him by Lord Gastoff for my playing and told me he had taken his cut. That made me a bit angry, I can tell you that. Playing flute at the fair all day and then playing again at night is hard work. Maybe I will rethink this traveling musician idea. Anyway, just then, the one Nissa refers to as Lady Henrietta’s bane was yelling about something missing and telling the others to go find the silk merchant and the lass and to find me. I didn’t think it was a good idea to stick around, so I headed out through the kitchen, and the man scrubbing pots, for a goodly bit of coin, directed me up the backstairs and to another exit. Unfortunately, I was not fast enough to head down the other stairs leading out of the Inn of the Three Hares and thought all was lost, but I found a way to the roof and headed here. There is an amazing amount of traffic going on above the town streets. When we get back to Glendalen, we should mention that to Uncle.”
“Do you know what happened to Nissa and Jonzee?” questioned Master Clarisse.
“No. I got delayed at one point getting here and had to hunker down and wait while some sort of transaction was taking place on the rooftop I needed to cross. Whoever the folk were, they did not want to be spotted by the authorities down below, and so they were waiting for things to settle down before they moved. I do know that all the time I was on the roofs, I could hear folks searching below, and I didn’t hear a hue and cry indicating our friends had been found. Just before I made my grand but less than graceful entrance here, I heard a very strange sound coming from the direction of the fair. I could have sworn I heard the howling of a number of hunting cats. If it had been just one, I would have thought it was Carz, but it was certainly more than one. It was a worrisome sound. Oh, I don’t mean the hunting cats sounded worried, but the sound worried me. The howling was the sound of hunting cats on a grand hunt, when they band together to pull down large game. I cannot imagine them coming in so close to town, especially with so many folk gathered here.”
“I am glad you are safe. I had hoped you would be able to tell us that Nissa and the driver Smed were also safe. We have been very concerned,” Lady Hadrack stated. “Master Rollag sent Evan to check on Merchant Hamberg’s place earlier this evening. It was his townhouse we used to change Nissa and Jonzee into the silk merchant and his niece. Merchant Hamberg was supposed to be hosting a small gathering after the tenth hour, but Evan reported that the house was very dark, and he thought he saw folks standing in the shadows near the back entrance. We can only hope that the good merchant is not in trouble or has not been picked up by the Regent’s agents for some reason.”
“Or sold out,” commented Master Clarisse.
“What are you still doing here Aunt?” asked Beezle with no little concern in his voice. “If Merchant Hamberg has either been detained or sold out, you could be in trouble.”
“Calm down. You, Nissa, and Jonzee are not the only ones who can pull off a disguise. Merchant Hamberg cannot lead searchers to me for he only knows a woman used his cook’s quarters, so I am reasonably safe. I was very careful returning here, and I am sure I was not followed. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Nissa or Jonzee. He would be able to at least identify them. Master Rollag has put discreet feelers out to try to find out what happened to him. We do not know if his disappearance had something to do with this night’s plans or something unrelated. His final role in this masquerade was to direct Nissa and Jonzee to where they should go next. Master Clarisse and Evan were to be waiting with their change of clothes. If all had gone smoothly, she and Nissa would have walked back to the fair together, and Evan and Jonzee would have headed back to where Jonzee is staying in the town.”
“Master Rollag sent me here to be with Lady Hadrack, hoping you would arrive and have some news. Evan is waiting with Master Rollag, hoping Jonzee will somehow make his way there, hopefully with Nissa,” said Master Clarisse. “He sent someone else to watch Merchant Hamberg’s house, and up to the time I left him, there had been no word of any activity there.”
“So now what do we do?” asked Beezle, who had begun to pace the small parlor. “If Merchant Hamberg has either freely, or not so freely, given information to whoever was watching his house, then Nissa and Jonzee are being sought after by one or more parties either as themselves or as the silk merchant and his niece. Even if Nissa makes it back to the campground and her homewagon, they could find her tomorrow at the fair. I trust Master Rollag can get Jonzee away safely, if he makes it back safely to where he is staying.”
“I am sure that can be arranged,” stated Master Clarisse, “but you are right about Nissa being in some danger.”
“I should head to the campground right now and try to find her,” said Beezle as he headed towards the door.
“Much as I love your loyalty to your friend, Beezle, you need to stop and think this through,” suggested Lady Hadrack. “Just what reason are you going to give the town gatekeepers for leaving the town at this time of night and heading to the campground? You do not have either the identification of an authority, nor do you have a campground token.”
“But I do. I set up a little tent at the opposite end of the campground from Nissa, and that is where the flute player has been staying,” Beezle said.
“I stand corrected,” Lady Hadrack said, motioning Beezle to halt his forward progress out of the parlor once again. “You, as the flute player, certainly have a right to go into the campground, but you are no longer he, and can no longer be he, for they are looking for the flute player too, and besides you shaved off your disguise.”
Beezle’s shoulders slumped as his brain caught up with his impulsive desire to do something, anything at all, to help out his friend Nissa.
“You are right. But I do not like this doing nothing.”
At that moment, Lady Hadrack’s personal maid knocked discreetly on the parlor door.
“Begging you pardon, ma’am, but just now, as I was fixing something in the kitchen for you folks to eat, I happened to look out the window, and there is someone sneaking into the garden.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Beezle and Master Clarisse spoke quickly, and then Beezle headed towards the back of the house as Master Clarisse headed towards the front door. Lady Hadrack and the maid stayed in the front parlor. Once Beezle reached the kitchen, he blew out the lamps so the only light in the room came from the soft glow of the coals in the fireplace. Master Clarisse, in the meantime, had made her way out the front door and was heading towards the back of the house, hoping to cut off the intruder should he or she try to flee out the garden gate. Beezle eased the back door open and watched a dark form flit from shadow to shadow as it approached.
Steeling himself for a confrontation, Beezle watched the intruder still, heard a muffled sound, and then the intruder disappeared into a dark shadow cast by the hedge running along the garden wall. It was then that he smelled something foul drifting on the slight breeze, began to become extremely concerned about just what was in the garden, and worried that Master Clarisse would come through the garden gate unaware of the danger. He did not know what to do. If he left the back of the house, whatever was lurking in the garden might advance towards the back of the house, or leave out the garden gate and run into Master Clarisse. If he did not head to the front of the house, go out the front door, and circle around to warn Master Clarisse, she might stumble into something she could not handle, not that he thought he was any more capable of handling what was in the garden than she was. He did not want to yell to Lady Hadrack, for that would
alert the intruder and whatever else was in the garden.
What sounded like a second muffled cry coming from the hedge added to Beezle’s already jumbled thoughts, and before he could make a decision, Master Clarisse slipped through the garden gate and slid the locking bar in place, placing herself in front of the gate. Oh, this is not good, Beezle thought. Now the only way for the intruder or intruders to get out of the garden would be to either go through Master Clarisse or through him. For many overly long moments, nothing happened. Then there was a thrashing sound in the hedge, a young voice yelled for help, and a lad burst out of the hedge.
“Evan?” called Master Clarisse, who held fast to her post in front of the garden gate.
“Master Clarisse, something is in the hedge. Watch out,” shouted Beezle, feeling there was no longer a need to remain quiet.
Lady Hadrack appeared behind Beezle and asked what was going on, as Evan ran to Master Clarisse and stood by her side trying very hard not to shake. Once again the noxious odor Beezle had smelled earlier drifted towards him on the breeze.
“Here, you might need this,” Lady Hadrack suggested.
She handed Beezle a large knife from the kitchen. She was holding the fireplace poker and looked ready for battle. Beezle noticed that Master Clarisse had drawn a short but fairly lethal looking knife that glinted in the moonlight, and he wondered in passing where she kept it. As much as he would have liked not to step out of the house onto the back porch, Beezle stepped through the door and peered in the direction of the hedge.
Speaking in a voice that sounded a lot braver than he felt, he said, “You had best come out, before I have a mind to call the peacekeepers, or the neighbors do.”
A man-like form stepped through a slight gap in the hedge, much to Beezle’s relief. When the form spoke in a human voice, Beezle began to feel foolish indeed and hoped no one would ever know what flights his imagination had taken concerning what might have been in the hedge.
“I ask your pardon, my Lady,” the voice said, addressing Lady Hadrack, “I had hoped to retrieve something I left here and be on my way with none the wiser. You have no idea the irony of you standing on this back porch. Please lower your assorted weapons. I assure you, I mean you no harm.”
“Do you know this man?” Beezle asked Lady Hadrack.
“I think this is the driver Jonzee who was with Nissa,” Lady Hadrack replied. “I suggest we had best move this conversation into the house before the neighbors become too interested in the strange happenings in this garden at this time of night. What is that smell?”
“Nothing that several buckets of warm water, strong soap, and a change of clothes would not help,” Master Clarisse suggested wryly, as she and Evan moved closer to Jonzee. “I would propose that happens before anything else.”
“I would be in your debt for even cold water and some soap, for I can’t stand the smell myself,” answered Thorval, “and I don’t think venturing to a public bathhouse this night would be good for my health.”
Lady Hadrack then turned to her maid and asked her to fetch soap and several towels, perhaps towels that were ready for the ragbag anyway. She directed Beezle to pump the first of several buckets of water and suggested that Master Clarisse come inside and help her find some clothes for Evan and Jonzee.
“Some of that delightful ode de toilet seems to have rubbed off on this young man,” Lady Hadrack said dryly.
Beezle had to smother a laugh with the hand that was not holding the large knife, even though he knew the situation was not all that humorous. He wanted to ask Jonzee any number of questions, the first and foremost one being where was Nissa, but before all of the questions could tumble out of his mouth, he was relieved of the large knife by Lady Hadrack, and a bucket was placed in his hands.
“Keep all those questions inside of you, Beezle,” said Lady Hadrack, seeming to read his mind. “Once driver Jonzee is less odiferous, and we are all settled in the house, we will sort out what is happening. No sense in him having to repeat himself.”
“But,” said Beezle, but one look from his aunt had him not finishing his sentence and moving to the pump to draw some water.
Thorval was torn between trying to speed things up and knowing that he needed to get cleaned up as much as he needed allies. He could not help worrying about his daughter, but he was enough of a realist to know he would do her no good if he continued to climb around on rooftops in the dark.
Evan quickly changed into the clothes the maid had brought him and would have gone into the house, except Jonzee stopped him with an apology and a request.
“I’m sorry if I scared you, Evan. I didn’t know it was you. I was worried that you would attract attention, and then I would be found out. I have a very strong suspicion that Ar . . ., ah, Nissa is in trouble, and I was worried I would be caught, and then who would help her? You put up a valiant fight against a man much bigger than yourself. That speaks well of your courage,” said Thorval.
“Thanks, I think,” answered Evan.
Master Clarisse, returning to the porch, interjected her praise of her apprentice, and then asked a question of him no one else had thought to ask. “What were you doing sneaking in the back way, moving from shadow to shadow looking like an intruder?”
Evan looked a bit embarrassed because there had really been no reason for him to be lurking in the shadows. He really did not want to tell her he had been pretending to be a spy, so answered her saying, “In all the excitement, I almost forgot. Master Rollag sent me to tell you what happened to Merchant Hamberg.”
“Well, are you going to give us that information, or are you just going to stand there all night?” Master Clarisse asked.
“Sorry. He sent me to let you know that according to Merchant Hamberg’s cook, who is good friends it would seem with Master Bircholm’s cook, you know where Master Rollag is staying . . .”
“Maybe we could speed this up since some of us are standing downwind from Jonzee,” suggested Master Clarisse.
“Oh, sorry,” apologized Evan. “Master Hamberg got a message shortly after you all left telling him his creditors were on their way and were going to demand payment in one form or another. Seems he was counting on a shipment to arrive this week that would have saved him from this current difficulty, but bad weather had delayed its arrival. He sent out regrets to the guests he was expecting and left in a hurry. The folk you saw watching his place were probably hired to let his creditors know when he returns, or that is what Master Rollag speculated.”
Just one more twist in a grand night of misadventures, Thorval mused, almost beginning to find some slight humor in the whole mixed-up night. At least this was one less worry. Merchant Hamberg had not sold them out, and he certainly could have.
Thorval turned to Evan and asked, “Would you do me a kindness, lest I forget what brought me to this garden in the first place? I left a cane next to the ash bin at the bottom of the garden. Would you be so kind as to fetch it?”
“And bring a few long sturdy sticks back from the brush pile while you’re at it, if you would please,” said Beezle.
Evan nodded and rushed off to the back of the garden, not only to do as requested but to get away from Jonzee. He did not spot the cane right away and began to question this request, when he caught the glint of metal in the pile of brush and leaves next to the ash bin. Reaching in, his hand closed over a very smooth stick, and pulling it free from the brush, he discovered he did indeed hold a very fine cane. After picking out the sticks Beezle had requested, Evan returned to the top of the garden, just as Jonzee was finishing drying off and was dressing.
Beezle directed Evan to put his clothes in a clean bucket of water, wash them off, and drape them over the back porch rail. Much to Evan’s delight, he discovered a small pile of coins on the rail, but then Jonzee told him that he needed to give the coins to Lady Hadrack, and he would explain
inside. Beezle, in the meantime, picked up Jonzee’s very soiled clothes with the sticks Evan had brought him and carried them to the bottom of the garden. After scraping a hollow in the ash bin, he buried the very smelly clothes. It was now time to head inside and begin getting some answers to his questions.
Upon entering the kitchen, Evan was the first to be drawn to the food set out on the kitchen table. Jonzee was immediately attracted to the teapot covered with a cozy to keep it warm. Only the light of two damped-down lanterns and several candles illuminated the room.
“I thought at this time of night, or more accurately early morning, we would attract less attention by having light in the kitchen rather than in the front parlor,” suggested Lady Hadrack. “I had my maid set out some bread, cheese, and fruit in case any of you were hungry before I sent her up to bed. Now, then, gather round, pull up a seat, and let us find out what has happened.”
“I told them what happened at the Inn of the Three Hares, so you can skip that part Jonzee,” suggested Beezle. “You should know that you, as the silk merchant, along with your ‘niece’ and I, are being actively sought after by the peacekeepers and others, for one of the women plotters lost something and thinks we might have it.”
“I can’t imagine what Nissa or I might have. It is nice to know why we were being sought by the men in the campground, but I am getting ahead of my story. I certainly did not take anything out of the Inn of the Three Hares other than a belly full of very delicious food,” replied Thorval, “and Nissa didn’t give me any indication that she’d taken anything out of the Inn either.”
“It was obvious from your attire, what was left of it at any rate, that you did not return to the home of Merchant Hamberg, get directions as to where to go next, or pick up your own clothes. What happened?” Lady Hadrack asked.