by B. K. Parent
“We’re going to have to stop soon,” Jonzee commented quietly to Master Rollag. “It’s getting almost too dark to see, and I don’t relish running into a ditch. How much farther do you estimate we have to go yet?”
“We are very close. I will get out and lead the horses. If my memory serves, where we want to be is down the next hill and around several bends. It has been some time since I was here, but I remember the place as if it were yesterday,” Master Rollag replied somewhat cryptically.
Master Rollag stepped down from the wagon and began to stiffly walk down the uneven lane, thinking to himself that age was not being kind to his body. The walking did help get the kinks out, and in a short while, he recognized the tumbled down gate post marking the entrance to the farm lane he was looking for. Walking back to the wagon, Master Rollag climbed back aboard and told Jonzee to turn in. After about twenty feet, they drove out of the tree cover and into a wild, overgrown meadow. The lane through the meadow was two wagon ruts through the tall grass.
“How long since this land has been farmed?” Jonzee asked.
“Five, six years. It came to me when my uncle died, and I have paid the taxes on it ever since. Lady Shirlyn of Maitland manor has overseen the land for me. Most of the acreage is tilled by her tenants, but this section has been left to go fallow. I have used the house and outbuildings upon occasion for storage and other things. We’ll store the wagon in the hay barn. Hopefully my message got to Lady Shirlyn, and what we need will be there awaiting us. We are going to have to move quickly now, for the fair at the capitol is only a little more than two weeks off, and our tasks must be completed by then.”
Jonzee pulled the horses to a halt just shy of the doors to the barn, and Master Rollag climbed down and opened them. Jonzee noticed that the doors did not make any noise upon opening. He drove the wagon into the barn, and Master Rollag closed the doors behind them. It did not take the two of them long to unhitch the horses and get them settled in the pasture adjoining the barn and holding several other horses.
“Come,” Master Rollag said, leading Jonzee to the small tack room and closing the door behind them. He then lit a very small lantern. “Ah, Lady Shirlyn has not let us down. In the morning you can change out of your Glassmakers Guild livery and into Lady Shirlyn’s. No sense getting it full of hay and barn dirt this night. You will need to take that pouch you see on the bench. It contains correspondence to the Lord of Marinel on the coast. If anyone stops you, the pouch contains papers identifying you. You are now Stian, Lady Shirlyn’s courier. Once you deliver the correspondence, you will be on your own to find a ship and get to where you need to go.”
“And you will be looking for Seeker Eshana?” Jonzee asked.
“Yes. The last I heard from him, he was heading to the mountains near Lady Celik’s. I need to speak with her also, but I am unsure whether she’s being watched. I’ll have to figure that out when I get there. We’ll leave the wagon here and take the horses Lady Shirlyn has left for us. Have you ever ridden a courier’s horse?”
“Not in recent memory, but several times in my youth. I’ll do my best to just try to stay on and look like I know what I’m doing,” Jonzee replied, with a self-deprecating chuckle.
After blowing out the light, both men left the tack room and climbed into the loft to bunk down in the hay. As Jonzee pulled his cloak tighter around himself to keep the evening chill out, he considered what the days ahead might bring. Not to worry, he thought to himself. I just need to get to the coast on a very swift horse and then beg, borrow, or steal a boat while trying to remember my new name. He hoped he had not lost his edge while being Jonzee, a driver for the Glassmakers Guild. He would need to be especially vigilant, once he reached the coast, especially once he reached the docks.
Master Rollag lay in the hayloft staring out the hayloft door, out over the meadow. A ground fog had crept in, and the light from the half moon gave the meadow an eerie quality. Anything could be moving out there in the shifting shadows, and he would probably not be able to spot it. As if he did not have enough to worry about. So much rested on what he and Jonzee needed to accomplish over the next two weeks. Even if he could manage to locate Seeker Eshana that did not mean the man would cooperate with him, and so much rested on him doing so. In addition, Jonzee’s journey was so weather dependent that there was little or no guarantee of success. Besides these worries, there was the fact that Shueller had been a no show at the Springwell-over-Hill fair, which was a cause for concern, and then there was the Princess’ situation. It took a long time for sleep to come.
Shueller did not know how much longer he would be able to hold out against his questioners. He had lost track of time since he had been dragged off his homewagon and beaten the first time. His captors had not given him either food or water since he had been brought here, wherever here was. He knew he was in a building, probably the lower level, for he had some vague recollection of being dragged downstairs before being thrown into this very cold, damp, dark pit. The cold and damp he did not mind so much, nor the dark, but the smells were awful. Shueller was too tired, hungry, and thirsty to worry so much about what had caused the putrid smells, but the scurrying and scratching sounds were bothersome.
Shueller held so many secrets inside his small battered body, and so many lives were at stake. It was hard to think clearly. They thought he knew where the Princess was. Who had betrayed him? One thing Shueller did know, however, was the fact that his chances of leaving this place alive were slim to none. Even if he held on, and did not give them the information they wanted, they would never let him leave, for they had revealed to him that the Princess was missing, and they would not want that information to get out.
Master Rollag felt his horse had been well named. Vilmos translated as “steady” in the hill country tongue and steady had been the ground eating pace the two of them had traveled from pre-dawn to well into the night. He had finally stopped for the day at a small crossroads inn and taken a room. He was close to Lady Celik’s manor and knew he would need to use even more caution tomorrow. He knew there was a small village closer to her manor, and he would see what he could find out at the tavern there. Just stop for lunch, just another traveler traveling through. He knew the tavern keeper from long ago. Good man. Depending on the situation, Master Rollag thought to himself, he would either try to make contact with Lady Celik, or move on and try to find Seeker Eshana. Now though, before he settled in, he wanted to check out his room. He had taken the one with the window that gave access to the stable roof, just in case he needed a different exit besides the stairs.
Thorval, no Jonzee, no who was he now? Oh yes, Stian. He needed to think of himself as Stian, only Stian, so he did not turn or respond to the other names if he heard them. He had made it to Marinel in good time. Thorval had delivered the contents of the pouch to the Lord of Marinel and had handed off the horse to a contact who would see it was returned. He had hated to give up such a fast steed, but where he needed to go now required him to find a small, but very seaworthy, boat.
The seacoast town of Marinel was situated on a large U-shaped sheltered bay. The town itself was perched on a hill overlooking the bay on the north promontory and was quite settled. Merchants and their families lived there, as did the families of the owners of the larger fishing fleets. The docks, which were tucked in along the shore of the south promontory, were a different matter. This was a rough and tumble area populated by transient sailors, dock workers, smugglers, and other less desirable folks. Much could be had for the asking here on the docks, or in the back alleys, if you knew who to ask and had the right price.
Thorval had found a rag seller on the edge of town, had outfitted himself with clothes more suited to someone who made their living on the sea, and had headed down to the docks. He had walked from one end of the dock area to the other and then walked parts of the beach to get a feel for what boats were in. He also stopped at one of the more rep
utable eateries for some fish chowder and to listen to the local gossip.
Many of the fishers were angry, and trouble was brewing just under the surface. Rather than increasing taxes on the fishing folk, the Regent had given special licenses to some of the larger fleets, giving them carte blanc to fish longer seasons than the smaller fleets and individual boats. There was a lot of grumbling about how some areas had been fished out. Same went for those who had crab pots. There was even some talk of some of the larger fleets ramming, or using other tactics, to keep the smaller boats out of some of the fishing grounds.
After a warming meal, Thorval decided to check a beach area he had not checked earlier. It was certainly in the seedier part of the docks, and so he was being more cautious and alert than ever. As he passed by the mouth of a narrow alley, he heard the sounds of a scuffle and a pleading voice asking for mercy. It was a voice he certainly did not expect to hear in this port.
I had returned to my booth more worried about Da than I had been, and now added to the mix was worry about Master Rollag and Shueller. I was torn inside because part of me wanted to run, part of me wanted to seek them out, and part of me just wanted this to be an ordinary fair day. Was that bad, wanting everything to be peaceful and normal?
The day seemed to drag, but that may have been due to my anxiously waiting for news or for one of the missing three to show up. I had slipped away mid-afternoon to check on the Princess, but she seemed content to sit with Mistress Jalcones and knit. The one bright spot in the day was being able to tell her that one of her sweaters had sold, and for a goodly price. You would have thought I had handed her the crown jewels rather than a small amount of coin. When I thought more about it, it struck me that this was probably the first time she had ever earned a wage.
I had just settled in back at my booth, tipped back on my stool, and was whittling a whimsy out of some rowan, when Shyla nudged me and motioned with the tilt of her head to look down the lane.
Chapter Sixty-One
I glanced up from my carving and saw four royal guards, headed by a woman of rank, marching down the lane. They looked like they were heading straight for our booths. Was this it? Had we been found out? Had someone betrayed us? Should I jump up, run back, and try to warn the Princess? I had to still my hands for fear I would cut myself and needed to settle myself down, should the group heading towards us actually be making a beeline to my booth. I wanted to look calm, as if nothing were amiss. I could not even alert Master Clarisse. She had left to go into town for some supplies shortly after I had come back from letting the Princess know she was now a few coins richer. There was some irony in that, which almost made me chuckle. We could all be in serious trouble, but the Princess had earned a living wage for one day in her short life.
The hope that the small troop of royal guards would march on by was soon shattered when the woman of rank halted her group right smack in front of my booth. A number of thoughts flashed through my head at that moment. Was I about to be arrested? If I were arrested, would Da ever know what happened to me? Would they arrest just me, or were my friends in jeopardy also? What would happen to Carz?
I glanced up as the ranking royal guard stepped up to my booth with four royal guards behind her. Shyla had gone quite still beside me. Folks stopped haggling with Trader Jalcones, and our lane became unnaturally quiet. A small crowd began to gather.
“Go about your business, folks. There is nothing here to interest you,” the ranking royal guardswoman directed, and the four royal guards with her faced outward and stepped menacingly towards the crowd, which dispersed faster than it had formed. The royal guardswoman of rank leaned forward, looked directly at me, and said, “I have been trying to locate you since the Snoddleton fair, and a fair chase you have led me. I have you now.”
It was well past the time that all of the travelers staying at the inn had retired, and the night was quiet except for the whippoorwills who were calling back and forth. Something had awakened Master Rollag, but he did not think it was the calls of the birds. He lay listening, but except for the occasional creaks and groans of the building settling, he could detect nothing that would have awakened him. Just as he was about to turn over and punch the hard pillow down to make it more comfortable, he heard a very soft knock at his door. Grabbing his short knife out from under his pillow, Master Rollag silently rolled off his bed and went to the door, easing back the lock and stepping back. The door opened a crack and the innkeeper eased himself into the room.
“You need to grab your possessions and get out of here now. Take the backstairs down to the stables. I’ve had my lad saddle your horse. Someone is waiting for you in the stables and will explain. Hurry, there is no time.”
Master Rollag grabbed his saddle bags and his cloak. He had not unpacked, in case he had to leave in a hurry, and was glad he had not. Moving surprisingly quietly for such a big man, Master Rollag quickly moved down the hall and down the backstairs to the door that led outside. He cautiously opened the back door and peered out, but could detect no movement nor see anyone lurking between the tavern and the stables. He swiftly crossed the short distance to the stable entrance and stopped just to the side of the door. When he looked in he could see the innkeeper’s lad holding the reins of two horses whispering to the cloaked figure who was standing next to him. Master Rollag eased himself around the edge of the door and walked into the stable, fully alert, and approached the two.
“Rollies, good to see you old friend.”
“Lady Celik?”
Thorval was torn. Down that alley was someone he knew about to be robbed, or beaten, or killed, or all three. Thorval’s mission was of utmost importance, and nothing should get in the way of it, not even the life of someone he knew. He should just move on, but if he did that he would be as bad as the ones he was trying to stop. He would just be another man who had a total disregard for human life, who did whatever it took to get the job done.
Sideling up against the wall of the building at the opening of the alley, Thorval edged his head around the corner to assess the situation. In the dim light from the street lamp, he could see two men towering over a third. He glanced right and left down the alley, trying to see if there was anything he could use to his advantage near the alley entrance. Thorval spotted a stack of broken tables and chairs, no doubt left over from a brawl in one of the pubs. Several of the table legs might do. Moving as quietly as he could, not wanting to lose the element of surprise, Thorval moved into the shadows of the alley towards the pile of broken furniture and picked up two long heavy pieces of wood. Once he had them in hand, he spun, raced down the alley, and smacked each of the assailants on the head. One went down instantly, but the other had turned at the last moment and had only taken a glancing blow.
Oh, great, Thorval thought to himself. Why could not the bigger of the two have dropped? This man outweighs me by quite a few pounds and is far younger. I could be in trouble here. Thorval began to back up to put some distance between himself and the bigger man. He was beginning to question whether this rushing to the rescue had been such a good idea, when suddenly there was a loud thunk, and the big man fell straight towards Thorval, missing him by inches. Standing behind the downed man was the long trawler Johan, holding the table leg Thorval did not even remember dropping after hitting the first man. Johan took one step towards Thorval and then had to lean on the table leg to keep himself upright.
“If’n it’s me coin ye be after, ye’ll have to get it back from yer friends here but not without a fight,” Johan growled.
“I’m not after your coin, old friend,” Thorval replied.
“Tho . . .”
“Sh-h-h. No names. It would be best if you retrieve what belongs to you and we get out of here before these two wake up.”
Johan gingerly eased himself down, quickly searched the pockets and capes of the two downed men, and reclaimed his coin pouch. He also relieved the two of other p
ouches and items. When Thorval looked questioningly at him, Johan just shrugged and suggested it was payment for his injuries.
“I admit I be feelin’ a bit poorly at the moment and sailin’ me boat solo with a broken arm ’twill be wee bit difficult,” Johan said with a grimace.
“It would seem I’m a fair sailor and in need of a boat. How far is it to yours, and can you make it?”
Shueller hardly felt anything when he hit the floor, having been tossed back in his cell. He did not know how much longer he was going to be able to hold out. His captors had had to back off because he was so weak, and he had not held on to consciousness long enough for them to take a second go at questioning him this time. Shueller unfortunately knew that they would be back, and soon. As he swam in and out of the darkness that seemed to be reluctant to let go, Shueller thought he heard the scratching noises again, and the bad odor was getting worse. He drifted off again, and when he came to it was quiet, so quiet he was afraid he had lost his hearing. Shueller moved his head slightly, heard a low moan, and worried that someone or something in terrible pain was in this dark pit with him, only to finally realize in his foggy mind that the moan was coming from him.
Suddenly the door swung open, and the light from the open doorway blinded Shueller. He heard voices but could not make them out clearly. It seemed two or more folks were arguing, and then he heard a thunk and something heavy falling. Someone came in and lifted him up, and he slipped back into the welcoming darkness once again.
“There is no time for idle chatter, we must leave immediately. My ‘guests’ back at the manor will wake in a little over four to six hours, and we need to be as far away from here as possible by the time they discover I am missing. Mount up Rollies,” Lady Celik ordered.