But before he could speak, they both heard an odd thumping.
“Someone is calling on you,” Keelan said not bothering to hide his disappointment. “You’d best answer the door.” He pulled himself off of her quickly and stood up, throwing open the curtain.
Silvia felt around for her veil and rushed out the skinny door when she found it. She quickly adjusted the nuuisaket, and had Keelan pin it on before he changed into a fox. She reached the door and smoothed her dress before lifting the latch. She was surprised to find Prince Dalton leaning against the doorway.
“Lady Serena,” he said, bowing slightly. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t be answering the door.”
“You only knocked once, and I was trying to take a nap.”
“So you wouldn’t be too tired to visit your male acquaintance?”
“That is my business, not yours,” she said dryly.
The prince shrugged. “I was just dropping by to see if you would like to accompany me. I was going to go riding about the countryside. It’s rather beautiful around these parts.”
She shook her head. “My apologies, but not today.”
“All right,” said Dalton with a smile. “Tomorrow morning, after breakfast.” Without waiting to hear what she would say, he walked off, whistling.
Silvia turned to Keelan, who was curled up in a little red heap on the green velvet of one of the chairs, gazing at her. “What an arrogant excuse for a man,” she muttered. “Why did he assume I would go riding with him on any day, much less alone with him?” She went to her wardrobe and retrieved a divided riding skirt. “I haven’t even been in this place half a day and I feel the need to get away from it. Would you like to go with me to Zander’s?”
Keelan lifted his head, pricked his furry ears, and nodded.
“I need to work on some planning,” she said. “Do me a favor and go fetch everyone while I change.”
He barked his reply and ran out the door. Instead of shutting it behind him, Silvia went back to her bed and slid her legs into the riding skirt, tying it at the waist. Then she retrieved the shoes she had kicked off when she had first come into the room and put them inside the wardrobe in exchange for a pair of black boots. The soles of the boots were thick and had a horizontal indention near the toes for the stirrups; in those boots she could ride hard and swift without worry of her feet slipping out. She was tying the boots on when all of her company entered the room. Hans was the last one inside, and he shut and latched the door. No doubt they had still been settling in, unpacking their clothes and such. They waited for her patiently, no one questioning why they had been summoned.
“I am going to Zander’s today to continue my tutoring,” Silvia started. “I don’t mean to sound pushy or rude when I say this, but we all need to have a job here. We cannot lie around all day and wait for something to happen. I am not talking of doing chores or laundry, although that is certainly included to maintain our guise. My job will be to supervise everything that goes on, and if any of you learn some valuable information, I am the one to tell it to. We will have meetings, just like this one, to compare and share. I will continue learning to do magic every day. I feel that it will help us tremendously. I am also going to try to get into Gregorich’s mind to see how he thinks, feels, and acts. Hopefully he will give away some weaknesses before long that we can use against him.
“Now, for your jobs...Maura, today you will ride with me to Zander’s. This will keep me safe, should Gregorich or one of his fools try to corner me with questions. When you are not with me I want you to loiter about the halls and empty rooms, dusting and sweeping. Unnoticed ears can take in a lot of things others don’t want overheard. Keelan, when you are not with me I want you to go to the kitchens to beg for extra scraps of food. The sight of you will entice the cooks and such to gossip, and some of what they say might help. Hans, since you were the stable master at our home, situate yourself in Gregorich’s stables. Find out everything you can about him. Motilda, make the servants here pity you about your husband and Urich. Sob on as many shoulders as you want but get in good with them. I want you to be everywhere at once, that is, around Gregorich’s chambers and study. Listen well, girl, and don’t make a fool of yourself or do something silly to make Gregorich hate you more. It wouldn’t take much to have you on the gallows, and I cannot save you twice. Frero, since you love gardening I want you to do some work with all the plants and flowers. But I want you to do something extra: try and make friends with the King’s Guards. You never know—they may harbor the best secrets of all, and I don’t think any of them would remember you from when you worked here before. Quentin, I want you to find out about the key to this room Motilda spoke of. We need to get in there as quickly as we can. Do this at nighttime, because I may need you during the day.
“Now, if there is an important discovery or someone is in danger, we must meet. If any of you chooses to leave the palace grounds, tell at least one of the others so that we will know where you are. Remember—I am Lady Serena of Alwak and anyone who wishes to know more of me can come and see me themselves. I do not need you to make up more lies than I have already told. If we say too many untruths, we will all strangle in a web of deceit.
“All right, everyone. It’s time to get to work. Maura, you and Keelan and myself will go with Hans to the stables. Quentin, I want you to follow Gregorich around after you see what kind of lock that door has. If we can’t pick it, we’ll have to steal his key. I will be back this evening and then you can return to my service. Let’s go.”
Hans unlocked the door and the room was emptied in seconds, everyone eager to have something to do.
The stables were on the west side of the palace, on a wide green, gently sloping ground. Here, there were no winding roads: only pastures that gently sloped down alongside the city until the land leveled out far below. The smell of horses, cows, fresh hay, and dung penetrated Silvia’s nostrils, but she found it an almost pleasant, homey smell. The cows were separated from the horses by a small wooden fence. Four bulls in the cows’ pasture were penned up at opposite ends, only one bull at a time coming out to graze with the other cows. The horses all stayed within the same pasture. The fence itself disappeared over the crest of one of the hills and came up again farther in the distance, giving all the animals plenty of room to feed.
The stables were huge and when Silvia stepped inside she saw that thirty horses, and twice as many cows, could fit inside it easily. The support posts for the stables were made of tree trunks, and the stalls were neatly spaced and well built. The second floor could be ascended to in several places with sturdy ladders. Silvia gazed up, seeing countless stacks of hay, and the tops of dozens of seventy-pound burlap bags of oats.
A short, stumpy man with a chest-long red beard greeted them in the doorway of the enormous tack room.
“The name’s Willis, and I am the stable master here. May I be of some service to the King’s newest guests?”
“Yes, I would like to pick out two horses to saddle up for the day,” Silvia said politely.
Willis chuckled, his face threatening to rival the color of his beard. “Aye, then. Well, ya have yer pick of the finest horses in Darkania,” he said. “Ya just point ‘em out to me and I’ll fetch ‘em.”
Silvia smiled her thanks and started going down the walkway between the rows of stalls. Maura made several comments on many different horses. Finally she chose a white and brown dappled mare that had a friendly disposition. As Hans and Willis were saddling the mare, Silvia kept looking. Then her eyes found a dark, reddish brown stallion, and she decided she wanted that one to ride. Willis strolled up to her while Hans finished putting the bridle on Maura’s mare.
“Ah, but ye’ve chosen a hard one, my lady,” Willis said. “The King likes to ride ol’ Windfall here, when Windfall’s bein’ calm. He’s a good horse, but arrogant. He loves to ignore his rider’s commands, whenever he gets one.”
“How often is he ridden?”
“Once every cou
ple of months, I suppose. Are ya sure you want him? He’s thrown several people, ya should know.”
“Is it any wonder he acts this way, being so seldomly ridden?” Silvia spat. Then, in a softer tone, she said, “Yes, I will take him. He’s perfect.” She rubbed Windfall’s velvety nose and he snorted at her as if to tell her she was wrong.
“All right.” Willis retrieved a saddle, blanket, girder, and the bridle. Stepping into the stall, he ran his hand along the animal’s flanks to calm its stamping feet.
While the little stable master was distracted, Silvia scooped up the saddle blanket and let it fall gently onto Windfall’s back. She smoothed it down, and bent over to pick up the saddle.
“Ya should let me get that,” Willis told her. “It’s a bit heavy for a lady.”
Silvia said nothing, but grabbed the saddle as best she could and hefted it into the air and onto the horse. Making sure both stirrups were dangling and not caught under the saddle, she knelt and began to secure the belt. When she had the strap pulled tight, she rose up and said, “Now Windfall, be a good horse and let that air out of your lungs so I can do this properly.”
The horse turned his head and snorted loudly, but relented. Silvia tightened the belt a little more and then started to buckle the girder onto the saddle. That done, she tightened the two girders and repeated the process of getting Windfall to release his pent-up air.
But a frown crossed her face when she picked up the bridle. “I don’t use a bit this thick,” she stated firmly.
“He’s too wild to use a smaller one, madam,” Willis cautioned.
“I only use the thinner bits,” Silvia told him. “I don’t believe in these because they’re cruel.”
“Well,” the man sighed, “I don’t suppose ye’ll be wantin’ the spurs for yer boots then, will ya?”
Silvia scolded Maura for not asking to borrow a riding skirt as Keelan was lifted onto Silvia’s lap.
Maura waved her hand. “I ride side-saddle every time, milady. It is what I’m most comfortable with.”
“Okay, but any time you should like to borrow one, let me know.”
They started off at a brisk trot and rode out into the city. A slight breeze was blowing, providing a little relief from the sun’s heat. Everyone seemed to be outside and in the streets though, for it was a beautiful day. There was a lively chatter dancing in the air and good spirits all about. Quite a few stared in surprise at the beautiful red fox which rode on Silvia’s lap, commenting on such a unique pet. Many people tipped their hats at the two horse riders or shouted greetings in merry voices.
Silvia felt lighter at heart in the fresh air. She bowed her head to those that waved or spoke to her and smiled with delight. These were her people, and they seemed so kind and hospitable. Near the center of the city (the palace was on the eastern edge where it was least noisy) they came upon a quartet of two women and two men singing songs. The short, thin man was obviously the bass; the other man, much taller and broader, was the tenor. One rather young girl no more than twelve or thirteen made her voice an alto, and a middle-age woman provided a lovely soprano. Their music was pleasant and turned more than just a few ears. People were laughing and cheering after each song and several encores were requested. A wooden bucket sat on the ground before them, awaiting the trickle of money; it was already half-filled with lisks and snicks.
As Silvia and Maura approached, the quartet began a new song, smiling as the words spilled forth from their mouths. Their hands moved as they hit hard notes and often they looked at each other with twinkles in their eyes.
“The moon is fully out
this sparkling night
Filling the world with soft white light
He looked at her and
declared he might
Be forever moved by her delight…”
“They made quite a bit of money to be only singing, did they not?” said Silvia as they trotted away after hearing several songs. She had left behind a couple of coins in their bucket.
“There is a reason for that, besides their beautiful voices,” Maura said. “I heard several people talking beside my horse and they were saying that the bass singer and the soprano are the brother and sister who own the homeless shelter and all its land. They are trying to raise money to rebuild it again.”
Silvia said nothing. The word ‘rebuild’ only reminded her of how (and why?) the shelter had been burned in the first place and it angered her greatly. How could anyone in their right mind threaten the lives of so many homeless, albeit not helpless, citizens of Darkania? Was it true that Gregorich wanted them out of the city, or dead, that badly? What was the point? Silvia knew there was an underlying reason, but could not quite prick it with a pin. Somehow, thoughts of the Lordalen War came into her mind, but she pushed them away without seeing any connection. But still…she couldn’t fight the feeling that one had to do with the other in some unknown way. She would have to bring it up at one point or another with Gregorich and see if she could find something out.
The women continued on, now in a southwestern direction. The sun was a blazing inferno above, but the steady, playful wind kept oneself from feeling too muggy. Silvia was glad, however, when they turned onto the road that led to Zander’s home, for the horses were lathering a little from the heat and would need water soon; at least the overhanging boughs of the trees provided good shade. Flowers bloomed in what could only be described as wild abundance on each side of the road and brightened the surroundings with brilliant colors and delicious scents. The troublesome thoughts soon left Silvia’s mind in the beauty of the day.
Chapter Five—The Events of the Day
Zander was asleep in the wooden rocking chair on his porch when they arrived. They dismounted quietly and Keelan, changed to a human once more, helped the ladies to unsaddle the horses. Then he led them round to Zander’s tiny barn and put them in two shaded stalls. A large bucketful of water was retrieved from the river nearby and placed before each beast. He scattered some oats, as well as apples, into their troughs and brushed them down while they were eating. When he returned to the porch, Zander had awakened and was chatting up Maura and Silvia.
“Ah, Keelan, there you are! I was just going to say that Her Majesty might enjoy a light meal before starting her day’s lessons. Would you help me cut some wood for the fire?”
“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want Silvia to try and help, would we?” Keelan replied. “She’d have all our heads off with one sweep of the axe without ever using her hands!”
Everyone laughed as they went around to Zander’s backyard. The head of an axe lay on a cutting block with a new handle beside it.
“Did you go into town to buy this today?” Keelan asked, picking up the handle.
“Yes,” said Zander. “I bought it from Horace the carpenter. Do you remember him?”
Keelan laughed. “Who wouldn’t? Horace the Ass Kisser is what I used to call him.” He glanced at Maura and Silvia and apologized for his profanity, explaining that Horace gave some of his harvest to the King every year and sold him white liquor too. He also said that Horace was a carpenter by main trade, and a wealthy man at that.
“He told me that he and his wife were going to the palace for dinner tomorrow night,” Zander went on. “I dare say, my Queen, that you will meet him as you are both held in high regards there.”
“I suppose I shall, then,” Silvia replied, turning her eyes to Keelan, who was working on fitting the handle onto the ax.
He drove the wedge into the handle with a mallet after it was fitted just right into the ax head. This done, he selected a stump of wood that had been chopped from a felled tree and set it on the cutting block. He ran his thumb a certain way over the blade of the axe to determine its sharpness and seemed satisfied. As Silvia sat down on the soft grass of the yard and flipped her nuuisaket back, Keelan began to split the wood, working up a fast sweat. Zander stacked the smaller pieces touched by the axe outside to the left of his back door. He made trip after tr
ip, only stopping when Keelan paused to remove his shirt.
Clad now only in pants and boots, he was certainly a fine sight to Silvia’s eyes; they roamed all over Keelan’s broad shoulders and his long, tapering torso, glistening with sweat. His arms were not extremely large, but they were well muscled and excellently proportioned with the rest of what she saw. His reddish-brown hair was slick with perspiration and clung to his face, neck, and shoulders. Silvia watched his back muscles bunch up as he brought the axe over his head; then watched as they stretched out when the axe was brought down to give the blocks of wood its deadly kiss.
The sections of the felled tree ran out sooner than Silvia liked, but not too soon for Keelan. He sunk the axe into the cutting block and left it there. Picking up his shirt, he wiped his chest, shoulders, face, hair, and back with it, then accepted a cup of water. Silvia was pleasantly surprised to see that his stomach rivaled his back: it was stuffed with muscle under the tight skin.
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