by B. K. Parent
All Clare could think about in light of Master Bröt’s announcement was thank goodness, she would be eligible for a new cloak now. As she thought that, Master Bröt, looking as pleased as could be, slipped a journeywoman’s cloak around her shoulders. Clare could hardly wait to find Evan and show it off.
Yesterday had been like coming abruptly out of a very deep fog into a blazingly bright afternoon, or at least that is the only way Princess Esmeralda would describe it later. One moment she had been feeling far distant to the world around her, and the next, she was right in the moment, and everything was crystal clear. Clare, the head royal baker’s apprentice, had handed her a pastry she did not think she wanted, and after one bite, the world began to change. While she had been in the fog, she had been aware of what was going on around her but powerless to do anything about it. Now that she felt her mind clear again, she found herself both angry and scared. She did not know who to trust and was afraid to eat or drink anything. What worried her most was that she would not been able to fool someone, anyone, into thinking she was still under the influence of what they had been dosing her with. It was fortunate that she did not have any official duties until later this day. That was giving her cause for great concern. She seemed to be fooling her maid, but then the lass was pretty much a ninny most of the time and afraid of her own shadow.
Fortunately, her maid had left a short while ago to spend the afternoon at the fair, giving her time to think. She needed to get out of here to someplace of safety, but how and where? If only Lady Celik were here to advise her, but Regent Klingflug had sent her away, back to her estate. The Princess would just have to try to figure it out on her own.
Gerta gathered the fresh linens she had placed earlier in the chest at the foot of the bed and went back into the sitting room. Keeping her back to the door to block anyone from seeing what she was doing, she pulled a pillow off the chaise lounge and placed it under the linens. She then walked to the small desk, and again keeping her body between the desk and the door, took out a square flat box and placed that on top of the pillow and below the linens. Taking a deep breath, Gerta turned and headed out of the sitting room, into the hall, and towards the Princess’ door. The royal guard stepped forward, and Gerta thought she might be denied entrance, but the royal guard reached out to take the bundle from her. Gerta knew that her plan would not work if the royal guard discovered the pillow she was carrying was not really a pillow, but a baker’s apprentice’s cloak stuffed inside the pillow cover.
“Ach, now, don’t you bother with this,” Gerta told the royal guard. “I’ve been hauling linens and things since before you were born. If you would get the door for me, that I would appreciate.”
For a moment, Gerta was afraid that the royal guard would refuse, but she did as asked, and Gerta passed swiftly into the room. The Princess was sitting in a chair staring out the window, seemingly not aware that someone had entered. Good, Gerta thought, the lass was a good actress after all. That was a skill that was going to help.
“Your pardon, Your Highness,” said Gerta, dropping a curtsy. “I am here to change the linens. Can I get you a cup of tea while I’m here?”
Princess Esmeralda waved a languid hand, which could have meant either a yes or a no. Gerta quickly took the pot of hot water that was hanging over the coals in the fireplace, poured water over some tea leaves in a small colorful teapot, and let the tea steep. When it was ready, she brought the tea and a cup and saucer to the Princess and set it on a small table next to the Princess’ chair. Reaching into her ample bosom, Gerta pulled out a slip of paper that had a seal affixed to it and set it on the table next to the tea cup.
In a very low voice, Gerta addressed the Princess and said, “A letter of introduction from Lady Celik, Your Highness. Read it quickly, and then I would suggest you throw it in the fire.” Gerta then stepped away from the Princess and headed to the bedroom to change the linens.
Princess Esmeralda did not know what she should do. If she were still under the influence of the concoction that someone had been feeding her, would she have reached for the letter? Was this some kind of test? Was someone suspicious? Was it a coincidence that she had just been thinking about Lady Celik, and now here was a note from her? On the off chance that this letter really was from Lady Celik, she needed to take a gamble. She reached for the letter and broke the wax seal, unfolded the page, and read what was within. In a few short sentences, Lady Celik wrote that Princess Esmeralda’s life was in danger from the Regent, or those who followed the Regent, and she needed to get out from under his influence. In addition, she wrote that the housekeeper who was delivering the note was to be trusted, and she would help in any way she could. Lady Celik knew Princess Esmeralda would question whether the note was really from her, so she had included a short sentence about something that was private between them. Princess Esmeralda felt the note was genuine, but was the housekeeper? Could she trust her?
Chapter Forty-Eight
It was hard to concentrate on the folks who dropped by my booth in droves all afternoon because of the rumors that were coming faster than a stream swollen by heavy spring rains. The fair was closing early, the fair was not closing early, the fair was not closing at all, and none of us could leave town. The Princess was in town, the Princess had left town, the Princess had canceled her appearances because she had taken ill. The Regent had declared, the Lord and Lady had declared, the frog under the overturned rain bucket had declared . . . The upshot of all the flying rumors was that no one really knew what was going on, but something definitely was in the wind. The problem was that none of us knew if it were a fair wind or an ill wind.
There were three distractions from all the rumors that afternoon. Evan’s friend Clare had been made a journeywoman, and so Evan and she were off celebrating and enjoying the afternoon, leaving us short handed. The second distraction was the worry I always felt for Da, but it was heightened this day, especially if wagons and folks were going to be scrutinized upon leaving town. The third and major distraction was with the threat of the fair closing early, many folks who might have waited until the last minute to purchase something, right at the time you wanted to be closing and packing up, were crowding the booths now. I felt sorry for Master Clarisse, for she was tending her booth alone, so we opened up the barrier between our two booths, and Master Clarisse, Shyla, and I were working together. When Master Clarisse had given Evan the afternoon off, she had not anticipated the rush we now faced.
As the fair day began to wind down, I asked Shyla to wait on the last trickle of customers and went to the back of my cart to begin to rearrange the interior, just in case the fair closed early tomorrow. We had talked about that possibility and wanted to be ready to hitch up horses and wagons and be at the beginning of the line to leave the town. If they really intended to check every wagon and everyone leaving, it was going to be a long wait. The longer the delay, the higher tempers would rise. None of us wanted to be here if things began to get ugly. I had pretty much moved everything out of the cart and was almost through moving it all back in, when I was startled by a tap on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry to have startled you, Nissa,” said Shyla in her quiet manner, “but there is a gentleman here who insists on talking to you.”
“Do you know who he is?” I inquired.
“He’s a rover unfamiliar to me. A short older man,” Shyla answered back.
I had a feeling I knew who she was talking about, so I told her to invite him back behind the booth. Just as I put the last of the items back in the cart, I looked up to see Shueller standing just a little ways from me.
“A quiet word I would have with you, if you don’t mind, about pilcher cream. Is there somewhere we can talk?” There was something in his voice that made me take notice.
“I would think my campsite might be the closest,” I remarked, as I closed the door to the cart. “Let me make some arrangements for watching the boo
th and I’ll be right with you.”
I quickly rounded the cart and asked Shyla and Master Clarisse if they would watch the booth. To Shyla, I asked if she would close and lock everything up, if I were not back by the time the end of the fair day horn sounded. Once that was taken care of, I rounded the back of the cart and motioned the shoemaker to follow me. When we arrived at my homewagon, I went to the rear and asked him to join me on the back steps. Carz, who was sleeping in the shade under the homewagon, crawled out and stretched his body out, first his back legs and then his front legs, before he padded up to greet me and check Shueller out. The shoemaker must have passed muster for Carz settled himself at our feet. I noted there was an alertness about him, so that while he might look as if he were lazing in the sun, I knew he was not quite as relaxed as he appeared. I wondered if he were cautious because the shoemaker was here and a stranger to him, or if there were something else. Carz was pretty sensitive to the humans around him, and he may have been picking up on the general tension which seemed to hover like a low fog over the fair this day.
Both Shueller and I discreetly glanced around to check if anyone were within listening distance, but the campground was fairly deserted. Even Mistress Jalcones was not here. I suspected she was out doing some last minute shopping for supplies, something I had hoped to have time to do this day too. I did not have any more time to think about that, or other chores I had to do before I hit the road again, because Shueller started talking in a very quiet voice.
“Since you did not question me as to what in the world pilcher cream was, I could conclude one of two things. One, you really do not know very much about herbs or medicinal plants and were trying not to look ignorant, or two, you do know about herbs and medicinal plants and also know the significance of pilcher cream. I decided to take a chance that you fit category two, and your being Neebing blessed led me to take a chance on having this brief conversation with you.”
“Go on,” I said cautiously.
“I’m closing up and leaving the fair this day rather than waiting for tomorrow. I don’t want to get caught in the madness of tomorrow should the rumors of an early closing and wagon inspections become reality.”
This was all very interesting, but I did not know how it had anything to do with me. After all, I really did not know this man, except for buying boots from him and having for some reason wanted to give him the plaque I had carved.
“I would ask a boon of you. I know you don’t know me and have no reason to trust me, but nevertheless, I would ask,” stated Shueller.
It was not going to hurt me to listen, I supposed, and I was not obligated to agree, so I indicated he should go ahead.
“Do you know the old roads to Springwell-over-Hill?”
“I haven’t traveled them personally, but I have a map,” I answered cautiously.
“Are you leaving tomorrow?” he asked.
“As soon as the fair closes, which according to rumor could be anytime tomorrow, unless they don’t allow us to leave.”
“I don’t think even the Regent’s representatives are that arrogant or that stupid. They are incurring the wrath of both the townsfolk and the nobility of Snoddleton, plus the merchants, the guilds, and the other participants of the fair to even suggest a check out procedure,” the shoemaker stated strongly. “But about that boon. Would you mind showing me your map?”
I was hesitant, but since the shoemaker had first mentioned pilcher cream when I had visited his booth, I had been thinking about the note Da had left for me in the puzzle box I had found in the root cellar back home. While I was not yet to the capitol and had not hung a green banner off the back of the homewagon, a signal to those who would seek me out and could be considered a friend, this man did know about pilcher cream.
Noting my uncertainty, Shueller said, “Had you been camped near me, you would have seen a green banner hanging off the back of my homewagon. I think we have some mutual friends in common.”
I excused myself to go into my homewagon and fetch the map. Rather than take it outside, I suggested to Shueller that he move to the front of the homewagon. While he walked around, I walked through the homewagon and climbed the steps to the front door. Unlocking it, I leaned out and indicated that Shueller should come up. I unrolled my map and spread it out on the front seat, which rested below eye level, should someone stroll by.
After studying the map for some time, Shueller asked if I had something he could use to draw with and add some notes. I was somewhat reluctant to leave him with the map when I went back into the homewagon to fetch a pen and ink. To my great relief, he was still standing there tracing a line on the map with his finger when I returned.
“This is going to take me a few minutes, if you don’t mind. Your map is a bit out of date. There are a few roads that now are washed out, a few that have reopened, and some new campsites to add to your map.” Having gained my consent, Shueller swiftly began to add lines and marks. “There, that should help. Now, here is the boon I have to ask of you. Do you see this lane here that branches off from the royal road about an hour’s ride from Snoddleton, heading southeast?”
“Yes.”
“If you follow that lane about another hour or two, there is a smaller lane that branches off and leads you due east through the hills into the next valley. Note the landmarks listed beside each turn. They are still current and easily recognizable, even near dark. You shouldn’t miss them, if you are paying attention. Once you come through the hills, you should come to a shallow stream, and just beyond that there is a small strand of woods and a good campsite. See this very faint line here on your map?”
I nodded yes to indicate I was following along.
“It’s about a quarter of a day’s ride from the campsite. It takes you south through a small valley, which is primarily occupied by sheep for summer grazing and a few lone shepherds, but they are usually found in the valley bottom and not in the wooded areas. This faint path runs along the top of the eastern hill through the woods. It is narrow but certainly able to accommodate your homewagon, and when last I traveled it, it was clear. It was built a long, long time ago to connect the valley dwellers to the next valley south. The villages that were there have long since fallen to ruin, for the soil couldn’t support crops, and so now it is just grazing land for sheep. I would ask you to meet me here,” he said pointing to a mark three-quarters down the faded line.
“Why?” I asked.
“Now is the time I need you to trust me, even when you have no reason to. It is better that you don’t know the reason why, so if anyone were to inquire as to what you are doing anywhere along the road, you can honestly say, you thought it would be a less crowded way to travel than the royal road,” he answered.
“There is one major problem with your request. My friends won’t understand why I am all of a sudden changing plans and traveling off alone. As a matter of fact, I don’t think they would graciously let me.”
“Do you trust them?”
“Yes.”
It was then that I realized that I had grown to really trust the friends that I had been traveling with: Beezle, Master Clarisse, Evan, the Jalcones, and the two rover families. I would need to talk with them, and among us we would figure out what to do when we left tomorrow. I wondered if it would be best if we stuck together or if we split up?
Shueller must have read what I had been thinking and said, “The smaller you can make your group the better, for you will be less noticeable. Can I count on you?”
Some of the urgency in the small shoemaker’s voice convinced me that this boon he was asking was a serious one, and this was a decision I should not make lightly. I really had no reason to trust this man, and yet, and yet . . . What was it about him that made me want to say yes? I would probably never know, but I found myself agreeing that I would meet him at the spot he had indicated on the map, hopefully no later than noon th
e day after next. When he left, I carefully re-rolled the map, put it back in the homewagon, locked both the doors, and asked Carz to stand guard. He seemed to understand my request. I arrived back at my booth in time to help Shyla close up and then headed back to the campsite and dinner. Now all I had to do was figure out how to approach my friends with this idea of traveling a different route, based on the request of a shoemaker they did not know and had not met, or so I thought.
I had pulled Oscar aside just before dinner and asked if he would talk to Bertram, and would they both meet with me after dinner. I asked if they could maybe send the children off to tend to the horses or something. I also asked the Jalcones, Beezle, Master Clarisse, and Evan to meet with me. That was the easy part. The hard part was trying to explain what I wanted without a really good reason why. After the children had gone off to their respective chores, the rest of us pulled our camp chairs close together in a circle.
“I wanted you all to know that I am planning to travel to Springwell-over-Hill by way of the back roads rather than by the royal road. I need to look for some special plants that are used in making pilcher cream,” I said, looking at Oscar and Bertram to judge their reaction. Had I not been looking, I would have missed a look that passed between them.
“Well, now, lass, I think Bertram and I will be taking the main road for we want to get there early because . . .” and at this point he seemed to hesitate.
“. . . because we want to get prime sites for camping,” Bertram jumped in smooth as can be. “We’ll arrange for us to be put together if at all possible and save you a good spot when you get there. Mayhap the Jalcones will help us?”
“We might be a little late ourselves,” stated Trader Jalcones. “Master Rollag came by this day and asked if we could take a few items to Spaglund Manor, which is a quarter of a day’s ride west of the royal road. Seems he had meant to send them with one of his drivers, that Smed fellow, when he sent him off this day, but plain forgot. Said it probably worked out better this way for Spaglund Manor would have been out of the way. We certainly don’t mind, since the Glassmakers Guild pays well.”