Thrice Upon a Marigold

Home > Fiction > Thrice Upon a Marigold > Page 8
Thrice Upon a Marigold Page 8

by Jean Ferris


  “You found what?” Boris asked, wiping sweat from his eyes with the tail of his shirt.

  “Look.” Vlad pointed. “Down there.”

  They looked. At their feet was a small hole, barely visible under an overhanging rock.

  “Oh, no,” Fogarty said. “I’m not going down there. It looks like there’s only one way in or out. That’s never smart. Didn’t you say we should hide somewhere we couldn’t be trapped, and where we could get away easily? And didn’t you say we should be near water? This has none of that.”

  “And it’s dark,” Emlyn said. “How can you make a sleeping potion in the dark?”

  “I’m not sure I’ll fit in there,” Boris added. “It’s a pretty small hole, and I’ve put on a bit since I haven’t been working.” He patted his round stomach. “And we don’t know how big the space is. Will we all fit?”

  “One must be adaptable,” Vlad said. “Those are all reasons that it’s the perfect hiding place. There’s only one way in, so no one can sneak up on us. And if they try to get in, they’re perfect targets. Yes, it’s dark, but that makes it safe. And I already have the sleeping potion. I brought it here with me from my lodge. As for you, Boris, I’m sure we can get you in if we push hard enough. And we’ll all fit inside, even if I have to have Boris lop off a few parts.”

  These arguments were met with silence. Especially the last one. Finally Emlyn said, “What if they find us and don’t even try to get us out? What if they just cover the hole with rocks and go away?”

  Fogarty gulped loudly.

  “Don’t forget,” Vlad said smoothly. “We have the baby. They’d never do that as long as we have her.”

  Again they were silent. And Emlyn was again the one to speak. “What if it is too small for all of us?”

  Just then, behind them and above the treetops, a flock of widgeons suddenly took flight, as if startled by something. Like maybe a king and his followers on the chase.

  “Anybody have a better idea?” Vlad asked.

  Another flock of widgeons, a little closer, erupted over the treetops.

  “Well?” he prodded.

  Fogarty sighed heavily, then said, “Oh, all right,” and lowered himself into the hole.

  “You next, Emlyn,” Vlad said. “Chop-chop. They’re getting closer.”

  Reluctantly, Emlyn followed Fogarty down into the hole. Once she landed, she called up, “It’s deeper than I thought down here. And darker.”

  “You next, Boris,” Vlad said, holding the laundry basket containing the princess under his arm.

  Boris, whose brain cells had been piqued by some of Fogarty’s and Emlyn’s comments, felt a crowd of question marks arriving in his mind. Could Vlad be trusted? Come to think of it, he’d never known him to be especially trustworthy.

  “That’s okay,” Boris said. “You go ahead. I’ll hand the basket down to you.”

  “I insist,” Vlad insisted.

  “How come you’re so insistent?” Boris asked. “Why don’t you want to go first?”

  “What’s going on up there?” Emlyn called.

  Vlad said, “I can’t go first because someone will need to give you a push to get you through. Now move it! Time’s wasting!”

  “You can pull on my legs from down there to get me in,” Boris said. “Now I’m insisting.” He flexed his thick biceps and scowled.

  Vlad took a long look at Boris, his brows drawn together in contemplation, then turned on his heels and sprinted off, clambering over the rock pile and vanishing down the other side.

  “Huh?” Boris said, before realizing that Vlad had never had any intention of going down into the hole. He was escaping! With the object of the ransom! That baby was worth two million ducats and Vlad was getting away with her!

  With a spurt of adrenaline, Boris took off after him.

  “Hey!” Emlyn yelled from the bottom of the hole. “Where is everybody else?”

  The only sound she heard was the rattle of stones under Boris’s boots as he hustled up over the rock pile, hot on Vlad’s trail.

  12

  I KNOW THEY CAME THIS way!” Chris called back as he ran. “I didn’t spend my childhood in these woods without knowing how to track.”

  They had had to stop while Wendell caught his breath. Chris wished he could have kept the group running off without Wendell, but it had been his idea to bring the wizard on this expedition, so he was forced to have them all accommodate. If they’d only reached Vlad’s lodge a few minutes sooner, he’d have Poppy now, safe and sound (he hoped), and Boris and Vlad and their cohorts would be in custody. Why hadn’t they started earlier, ridden faster, dawdled less? But now he was so close behind, he could almost smell them. Or maybe he actually was smelling Boris, who had always left quite an aroma in his wake.

  Sebastian, Rollo, and the other guard stayed alert to make sure they weren’t set upon—either by the kidnappers or any other random rogues who frequented the forest. And as Sebastian looked around, he noticed something.

  “Where’s Phoebe?” he asked. “When did we lose her?”

  “She was behind me when I ran out the back door,” Wendell said, proud that he had been going fast enough to be ahead of someone. “But I don’t recall seeing her since then.”

  “Neither do I,” Chris said, rising from where he’d been examining the trail. He knew now which way the culprits had gone and he was eager to keep going.

  Sebastian wondered how he could have taken this long to notice she was missing, when he was usually conscious of her every move. “I’ll go back,” he said, alarm in his voice. “Something must have happened to her.”

  Just then they heard a call through the dense forest.

  “It’s Phoebe!” Sebastian said, running back the way they had come. “It’s Phoebe!”

  It took longer than Christian had hoped it would, but soon Sebastian returned to the clearing, holding Phoebe by the hand. She was followed by a goat on a rope, and in her other hand she held her sash, the opposite end of which was bound around the wrists of Bartholomew.

  “What’s this?” Christian asked.

  Phoebe gave him a quick explanation. The presence of the goat, once the king understood it, caused his heart to grow cold.

  “We’ve got to find them,” Chris said. “We’ve got to. Wendell, I want you and the guardsman and Hannibal to head back to the castle with the goat and Bartholomew. I’ll deal with him later. Right now, we’ve got to move faster.”

  Wendell grumbled about being left behind, but truthfully, he was glad. His legs were old and short and he’d run about as far as he could. “All right. As long as you know I wish I was coming with you. But I’ll do my duty. Come on, you.” He pulled the goat behind him while the guard took hold of Bartholomew.

  Chris turned to the young footman. “And in case you’re getting any ideas, Wendell is an accomplished wizard and he can turn you into a toad in an eye blink if there’s any funny business.”

  Wendell wasn’t entirely sure he could do that, but the king’s stern voice was apparently convincing, because Bartholomew muttered glumly, “It might be better if he did. I’m pretty much a toad already.”

  “Come on, then,” Wendell said, and he and the guard dragged their captives off through the trees.

  When Wendell, Bartholomew, and the goat were out of sight, Sebastian said, “Pardon me, Your Majesty. I don’t mean to be insubordinate, but do you think it’s wise to send Wendell off, even if he is a wizard? Bartholomew is twice as big as he is, and younger and stronger. He’d have no trouble overpowering Wendell if he took it into his mind to do so.”

  “I don’t mind your questioning me at all, Sebastian,” Christian said. “It’s the duty of a conscientious citizenry. But don’t worry about Wendell. Even if his powers are diminished—and I think I convinced Bartholomew they aren’t—he’s as tough as ten ice bears and has a heart of iron. Bartholomew wouldn’t have a chance. Besides, there’s a very well-armed guard with them.”

  Phoebe was thinking, In
subordinate. What a lovely word. And when was the last time she’d heard a nice-looking young man use it? Why—never, that’s when. What a treat. And to have a ruler who could say conscientious and citizenry in the same sentence. Lovely.

  With that, Christian turned back into the forest and once again picked up the trail of the kidnappers.

  Emlyn and Fogarty each reacted differently to being left deep in the hole. Fogarty, to his own surprise, burst into furious tears. And Emlyn scooped up all the rocks she could find and hurled them out of the hole, even though she knew the Terrible Twos were long gone and couldn’t be touched by them. She also yelled every bad word she had ever heard, taking some satisfaction in hearing them echo in the dimness. She hated to admit it, but she was as worried about the fate of Poppy as she was outraged at being so easily hornswoggled. She should have known better than to trust Vlad when it came to dividing up a lot of money. Of course he would try to get rid of his cohorts.

  “How long do you think we’ll be in here?” Fogarty whined.

  “How should I know?” Emlyn said crossly. “Maybe forever.”

  Forgarty burst into fresh torrents of weeping.

  “Oh, shut up,” Emlyn comforted. “We need to figure a way to get out of here.”

  “There is no way without someone to help us,” he sobbed. “We have no tools, no equipment. Nothing.”

  “You make a very good point,” Emlyn said. “Thanks for the helpful information. I think maybe I could get out if you would let me stand on your shoulders.”

  “Then how will I get out?”

  “I’ll go get a rope,” she said brightly.

  “Nothing doing. I know you well enough to know you’d never come back. So why should I help you escape?”

  He was smarter than she’d hoped. Folding her arms across her chest, Emlyn plopped down on the damp ground. “Since you’re so smart, you come up with a plan.”

  They sat in grim silence, stewing and fuming and weeping helplessly.

  There are only a few things worse than having to face up to the fact that the predicaments one finds oneself in are usually the results of one’s own foolish actions.

  Chris powered on through the trees, his mind on Poppy, and also on Marigold, trapped in the dragon’s lair with no way out. He’d have to worry about that later, though. Right now, he had to get Poppy back before those Terrible Twos starved her, or abandoned her someplace where he’d never find her.

  Abruptly he came to a halt against a great tumbled pile of rocks.

  “Looks like a giant’s been playing here,” Chris said. “But here’s something I know about giants’ playgrounds. Giants leave deep footprints. Big as caves. Those footprints might be covered with rocks, but there could be places underneath big enough to hide in. This could be a possible hiding place.”

  “Do you think this is the kind of place where Vlad would really choose to hide?” Sebastian asked.

  Chris was getting rather used to this young man asking important questions in a respectful way, and he liked it. He never wanted to turn into one of those monarchs who started thinking he was always right because nobody was ever brave enough to question him. With a wife like Marigold, the chances of that happening were dim, he admitted, but he didn’t mind having someone else question him, too.

  “Well, the trail stops here,” Chris said. “But that could be just because I can’t read it well on the rocks. I’m guessing, however, they’re as tired of running as we are, and they’re carrying Poppy, too. So it seems logical that they’d at least consider stopping here, though you’re right, it definitely wouldn’t be Vlad’s first choice. So let’s have a look, all right?”

  “Yes, sire. That is completely cogitable.” Sebastian was very pleased to be getting such an inside look at how sensibly and logically the king’s mind worked. It was giving him a great feeling of confidence in his monarch, and also causing him to like Christian quite a bit.

  Cogitable, thought Phoebe. Wow.

  Down in their hole, Emlyn and Fogarty could hear voices. Once the voices stopped, they heard footsteps coming across the rocks, sliding and stumbling, but coming closer. Emlyn put her hand over Fogarty’s mouth, just in case. Fogarty could be a little unpredictable. However much they wanted to be rescued, they needed to know who was out there before they revealed themselves. After all, these woods were full of rogues and brigands—rather like themselves, in fact—and being discovered might be worse than the fix they were already in.

  Phoebe, perhaps because she was shortest and therefore closest to the ground, was the one who spotted the hole. Just in case there was someone down there, she didn’t want to be obvious about it, so while she was yanking on Sebastian’s sleeve and pointing at the opening, she was saying loudly, “This is a waste of time. Nobody could be hiding in this mess. It really is just a giant’s playground.”

  Sebastian waved his arm to attract the king’s attention. At the same time, he was answering Phoebe. “I agree. I don’t think there’s any place big enough to hide in there. Your Highness, I think we should move on.”

  13

  UP ABOVE, SEBASTIAN AND Phoebe heard that sound. Phoebe jumped up and down a couple of times, pointing hard at the hole. Christian and Rollo, too, raised their eyebrows and cocked their heads in question. Sebastian nodded emphatically and mouthed, “They’re down there.”

  Chris pulled Sebastian out of earshot of the hole while Rollo kept an eye on it. “Are you sure?” he whispered.

  “Both Phoebe and I heard something. I suppose it could be some sort of animal. But if that was the case, I think we’d have heard more than just that one sound.”

  “Good thinking,” Chris said, patting Sebastian’s shoulder. “I wonder if they’re armed. Or if there’s another way out of there.”

  “If there was another way out, I think they’d have taken it,” Sebastian said. He was becoming less and less hesitant about giving his straight opinion to his king. In fact, he was forgetting that Chris was his king. “As for weapons, I don’t know. But they did leave the lodge in a big hurry. Maybe too fast to grab anything.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Chris said. “Because we’re going to have to get them out. Which may involve going in after them.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Sebastian said.

  “First we’ll have to move some rocks to make the hole bigger. But we’ll have to be careful, just in case there are weapons. As soon as we start moving rocks, they’ll know we’re on to them.”

  “We’ll have to be fast,” Sebastian said.

  Chris nodded. “We can be. Let’s get started.”

  The four of them hauled a few big rocks away, allowing cool spring light to pour down into the hole. Then they stood back, waiting to see if any sort of missile came flying out.

  None did, since Emlyn had unwisely thrown out all the rocks that had been at the bottom of the hole.

  It was at this point that Chris realized he wasn’t sure what they would do if they got the kidnappers out. He assumed there were four, two of whom were the nastiest, scariest, most devious brutes the kingdom had ever seen. He had his halberd, Rollo had his battle ax, and Sebastian had his mace, but Phoebe had nothing. Having left two guards at the dragon’s lair and sent one back to the castle, he feared the search party was now seriously outnumbered and underprepared.

  Cautiously, Chris peered into the hole. All he saw were two pairs of feet. Two? Where were the others? Where was Poppy? What had they done with her? He could feel rage building up, but he worked to suppress it, knowing that a hot head is not often a wise head.

  He brandished his halberd over the hole and yelled, “Who’s in there? Are you too cowardly to answer?”

  Apparently they were. The feet did not move.

  “It appears there are only two people in there,” Rollo said.

  “Yes,” Christian agreed. “But which two?”

  “I’ll bet you can guess,” Sebastian said.

  After a moment’s consideration, Chris said, “You’re right. Vlad a
nd Boris would never allow themselves to be trapped in such a dead end. It’s got to be the laundress and the other footman.”

  “Which means the Terrible Twos have escaped with your daughter,” Sebastian said in a quiet voice. “They wouldn’t have left her behind with the ransom still unpaid.”

  “Yes,” the king said, equally solemnly. “And I would bet all two million ducats that these two have been cut out of their share.”

  “Knowing Vlad as I do, I’m afraid I have to agree with you.”

  Chris took a deep breath. “Well, even if they have been betrayed, they surely know something. So we must take some time to think about how to get them out of there. They’re down too deep for us to reach them.”

  “And I believe it would be beyond foolish for anyone to try to go in after them. Only one person at a time could fit and that person would be way too vulnerable while he did it.”

  “We might as well get some rest,” Chris said to Rollo, Phoebe, and Sebastian. “We need to come up with a plan for what to do next. They aren’t going anywhere, and we have no idea where Vlad and Boris have gone.” He stopped talking before the quaver he could feel behind his words became obvious. Then he sat down with his back against a sun-warmed rock and closed his eyes.

  Rollo kept watch over the hole. Phoebe and Sebastian seated themselves while Phoebe rolled the wonderful word egregious around in her mind.

  Speaking softly, so as to not disturb Chris or let Rollo hear, Phoebe said, “What would you do if you knew it was your father down there?”

  Sebastian took a long time to answer. Finally he said, “I would wish we could just leave him there. Seal up that opening and leave him there.”

  “Me, too,” Phoebe whispered. “If it was my father. But it makes me ashamed to think that. It’s something he would do without a qualm, and I don’t want to have a single thought that’s anything like one that he would have.” She felt tears come to her eyes, then fought them back.

 

‹ Prev