The Adventure of Anna the Great

by Camille LaGuire

Chapter XIII - Sea Sprite’s Dam

  After such an active day, and such a late night, I overslept. It was the first time, and I felt I had a good reason, but Bloch did not agree.

  “So nice of you to put in an appearance for us,” he said as I entered the yard. “You’ve been so busy lately, I find it an honor that you even remember where you work. Or did you wander in by accident?”

  “I was working for the Marquis von...,” I began.

  “The marquis! The marquis!” he snorted. “It’s always the marquis. You don’t work for him, you know. You work for me. And that goes for the rest of you,” he added, looking at the other boys in the yard, and especially hard at Philip.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I said.

  He paused to snatch a mucksack out of Hans’ hands, and he flung it smack in my face.

  “You are cleaning all of the stalls in the south wing today, Albert, and when you’re done with that you can help out in the other wings. Hans, come with me.”

  I trudged through work all morning. It went pretty slow. By now I was really beginning to feel stiff, and I must say that my knee hurt where Tybalt had landed on it. I had, however, slept soundly enough to feel rested, and the activity was working the stiffness out of my muscles.

  I was carrying out my twenty-seventh load of horse manure to the pile—I was keeping track for lack of anything better to do—when I noticed that Hans and Charles had stopped work to watch something in one of the paddocks. I dumped my load and joined them.

  Tybalt stood out in the middle of that paddock, whistling Regis into a gallop. Suddenly he broke into a run and vaulted onto the animal’s back. The effort blew his cap off. He turned Regis around, apparently guiding the horse with his knees. As he rode by the cap he swung down as he had at the tournament, and tried to snatch it up. He missed and, rather than stopping the horse, he vaulted off again, landing in a somersault that put him on his feet again. He strolled over and dusted off the hat.

  “How can he do that?” said Charles, shaking his head in awe.

  “Seems he can do just about anything he wants,” I said.

  “He’s a show off,” said Hans.

  “Exactly,” I said, and we all stifled a chuckle.

  Tybalt, seeing that he had an audience, whistled and clapped his hands at Regis once more, chasing him a bit to get him really galloping. The horse tossed his head and snorted. As Tybalt made his approach run, Regis twitched his tail. The man leapt into the air, reaching for a handful of mane, but the horse fluidly sidestepped him. Tybalt landed on his face in the dust.

  “Damn you Regis,” he called, as we broke into laughter. “Halt, beast!”

  Regis halted right in front of us. Tybalt broke into a run and vaulted over the horse’s rump and onto his back.

  “Good way to get your teeth kicked in,” whispered Charles.

  Regis galloped away, and Tybalt turned to ride backwards for a moment, tipping his hat and thumbing his nose at us.

  When he finally vaulted off again for the last time, Hans and Charles applauded, and I had to join them. Tybalt bowed gracefully. He tried to get Regis to bow too, but the horse had had enough and with a leap and a kick he galloped away.

  The others then moved back toward the stable, but I stayed on just a second longer, leaning thoughtfully on the fence. Tybalt saw me before I could move, and he called to me and came over. I reminded myself of the night before and quickly put a frown on my face.

  “Don’t give me that disapproving look!” he said. I grinned. I did not really feel that disapproving. “That’s better. You’ve been spending too much time with Furlenhaur.”

  “Maybe you should spend more time with him.”

  “I’ve spent enough time with him, thank you.”

  “He thinks I’m spending too much time with you.”

  “Getting ideas put into that innocent little head of yours, eh?” he said. “It isn’t so innocent though, is it, Albert?”

  I shook my head and looked at Regis, who still snorted about the paddock.

  “Would you like to learn to do that?” he said, jerking his thumb toward his horse.

  “Vaulting?” I said eagerly. “I’d like to very much! I mean, I might,” I added, trying to dim my obvious enthusiasm.

  “You might?”

  “I might, from somebody honest.” I tilted my head and looked for his reaction out of the corner of my eye. He burst out laughing.

  “Albert, you look just like Regis when he’s got trouble up his snoot!” He chuckled. “I assume you mean you won’t take vaulting lessons from me.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why not?”

  “You burn down churches, among other things.”

  “I had nothing to do with that. That fire was caused by a faulty lantern and a careless priest. I tried to put it out.” He paused and frowned at me. “Alvin, you should know better than to make an outright accusation. What would you say if I were to accuse you of whatever it is you are hiding?”

  “I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Of course you are. I can see it plain as day. You’re just a devious at I am, Pipsqueak.”

  “That’s not a very nice thing to say,” I said, feeling a little uncomfortable.

  “Oh, isn’t it? It’s the truth. You’re just like me, I can tell. Now stay here,” he said, reaching through the fence as I started to turn away. He vaulted over the fence. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. I can’t. I don’t even know what your little secret is. Just be sure Furlenhaur doesn’t find out.”

  “I have nothing to hide from Johan.”

  “Johan again. Then you’ve told him all about yourself. Did you? Did you?” I dropped my eyes and he chuckled. “I thought not. And it’s a good thing, too. Furlenhaur is a nice fellow, but he just doesn’t understand mischief. You can’t trust honest people, Albert. They always do what’s right.”

  “I’d better get back to work,” I said, turning away. He caught my shoulder and pointed at Regis.

  “You’ve got a much better horse for vaulting than him, you know,” he said quietly in my ear. “He’s quiet and obedient. But with your quick wits and gumption, you’ll soon be vaulting on and off any horse in the stable. Even Sea Sprite.”

  “How long would it take to learn?” I asked after a slight hesitation. He grinned as if he had won something.

  “You’ll have to learn tumbling first,” he said. “Can you do a standing somersault?”

  “Of course,” I said. He pulled me back from proving it.

  “You’ll have to be able to do it from a galloping horse’s back. Let’s see,” he said, rubbing his chin. “I want you to work your way up to this.” He patted the top of the fence, about five feet high. “When you can do a standing somersault from the top of this fence, I’ll teach you vaulting.”

  “Sure,” I said, scrambling up the fence. He caught me by the belt and hauled me back down.

  “Wait a minute!” he said. “What the devil to you think you’re doing? Do you want to break your neck? You’ll never learn to vault with your head wobbling around loose.”

  He took hold of my head and wobbled it around to illustrate. “Start with the mounting block over there, and work your way up, a little at a time,” he said, still holding my head between his hands. He paused. Something had caught his eye. I looked from the corner of my eye and saw Duke Sigmond approaching. Tybalt forced my look back to himself. “Now, don’t go breaking your neck, right?” he admonished me, and went to greet the duke.

  I watched them go back toward the palace. Sigmond seemed angry, but I could not tell whether he was scolding Tybalt, or complaining to him. Tybalt was shaking his head, but he was also keeping an eye on me, otherwise I would have followed. I went to the mounting block instead and tried a few tumbles before I went back to work.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Hans asked me.

  I was standing on the m
anger in Jupiter’s stall, about to dive into the fresh clean straw strewn over its floor. I was myself strewn with straw, for it was going to be my third dive.

  “I’m practicing my tumbling,” I said. Hans shook his head.

  “Do you really think Tybalt is going to teach you vaulting?”

  I paused and thought. “Yeah, actually,” I said at last. “He went to a lot of trouble to convince me to let him.”

  “And now that he’s convinced you, he won’t do it.”

  “Maybe not. But then I’ll get somebody else to teach me. Or I’ll teach myself.”

  “Or break your neck.”

  “You’re the third person to say that to me. You think they’re trying to tell me something?”

  Hans laughed. “Yeah, I think so.”

  I jumped down and strolled through the straw.

  “You had better brush that straw off your jacket. Hugo’s horse is here,” said Hans.

  “Really?” I said, brushing myself quickly and turning my back so Hans could get where I could not reach.

  “That’s what I came for. They’re just bringing her into the yard. Uncle Wil’s as excited as can be. He’ll want us to look perfect.”

  We passed by Charles on our way to the yard. He was talking to another boy, a tall boy with another kind of uniform.

  “That’s him,” said Charles, pointing at me.

  The other boy raised his eyebrows and looked me over doubtfully.

  “A wire for you, Herr . . . Albert,” he said.

  “What?”

  “A telegram. Do you even know what a telegram is?”

  “Of course I do,” I said, but I could not think of who would be sending me a telegram. Celeste did not even know where I was. “Where from? Who?”

  “See for yourself,” said the boy, handing it to me. “You’re supposed to give me a tip,” he added in a whisper.

  “I know,” I whispered back. “I work for tips too.”

  I handed him some pfennigs I had in my pocket, and then tore open the envelope. It was from London. “Albert, Royal Stables, Lifbau,” was how it was addressed.

  “Mrs. MacGuffin missing five years stop nothing else but rumors coming home now.” It came from a Sarah Watkins, Niece of B.

  Niece of B?

  Bartleby! So he had out-foxed Tybalt after all. I looked up to see Hans and Charles looking at me expectantly.

  “It actually isn’t for me,” I said. They looked confused at that. “I’m kind of a go-between.”

  The looked at one another, still unsure.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go look at Hugo’s mare.”

  The mare was beautiful. I could see right off that she was Sea Sprite’s dam. Her markings were exactly like his, even her size and build were similar. The main difference was that she was lighter in the neck and shoulders, and heavier in her sagging broodmare’s belly.

  “Looks an awful lot like Sea Sprite,” I said.

  “But she doesn’t act like him at all,” said Hans. “Look at what an angel she is.”

  “Bloch’s still scared of her,” said Charles.

  Bloch really was. He kept a suspicious distance while Philip led her back and forth for the prince. The mare led very quietly and obediently. Even when a stableboy across the yard dropped his pitchfork with a clang, she only twitched her ears and looked. When Philip at last brought her to a stop in front of Hugo she stood patiently, nuzzling him and letting him cuddle her ears.

  “A truly fine mare, Your Highness,” said Philip more earnestly than usual. Bloch, seeing at last that the mare was safe, bustled up and shooed Philip away, taking the lead himself.

  “What do you want done with this beautiful creature, Your Highness?” he asked with a bow. He held the rein as if it were attached to a statue, rather than a live animal, snapping it and ignoring the horse all together. The mare, however, was so docile that she ignored him too.

  “Rest her,” said Hugo abruptly. “And clean that road dust off her. I want her well groomed and energetic this afternoon. I’m showing her to a friend of mine, the banker Herr Stenner. I’m offering to let him buy her, so pay particular attention to him.”

  “When exactly will you want her?”

  “Bring her to the terrace at three o’clock, and have her fit. I want him to be impressed.”

  “I’ll bring her myself.”

  “Of course you will.”

  Bloch bowed again as the prince marched off to the palace. Then he handed the rein to Philip.

  “See that this mare is perfect,” he said. “I must see to my own grooming.”

  Philip led her to the empty box stall in our wing of the stable. It was actually Sea Sprite’s stall. Sprite had been moved to a standing stall, but nobody had the guts to tell him, so he was out to pasture. Hans and I showed up with brushes in our hands.

  “Can we brush her?” we asked.

  “Sure,” said Philip, and the three of us set about making her perfect, as ordered. We curried and brushed and combed until we had to stop for fear her fur would come off. Then Bloch came back. He glanced in at the mare and nodded.

  “Well, Philip?” he asked gruffly. “You have other work to do, I think. Get to it. I’ll see to this now.”

  “Nothing left to see to,” I whispered to Hans. Philip shrugged and went away, while Bloch shooed us off to our work. In a way I was glad Bloch had relieved Philip of responsibility for the mare, for an idea had popped into my head.

  “That mare sure looks like Sea Sprite,” I said to Hans after Bloch left.

  “Yeah?” he said suspiciously.

  “Wouldn’t it be funny if Bloch got Sea Sprite by mistake when he took her to the terrace?”

  “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “I bet he would. He never gives the horses a second glance. He wouldn’t notice the difference.”

  “He would the instant Sea Sprite took a hunk out of his arm.”

  That was hard to argue with. Still, I did not want to give up my idea. A few moments later I came back.

  “We could use a drop nose band,” I said. “Then he could only nip a little, not bite. That wouldn’t surprise him. You saw the way he looked at her out there.”

  “If you think you can get away with it,” said Hans after a minute. “I won’t stop you.

  “I’ll need your help,” I said. “But if I get caught I did it all by myself.”

  “All right,” he said. “After all the times I’ve had to handle that beast, it’s about time he did.”

  Philip nearly ruined our plan, because he was eager to look after the mare himself. Bloch, however, sealed his own fate for us by sending Philip out front to look after carriages. With no supervision I was able to bring Sea Sprite in and groom him up well, even to the point of putting a ribbon in his mane to make him look sweeter. He did not like the ribbon, but he was feeling tolerant after a half day’s romp in the paddock. Then Hans simply put the mare in the standing stall, and I put Sea Sprite back in his own stall. At three o’clock Bloch entered the stable and I offered him the bridle. He told me to do the bridling. He even let me lead Sprite out into the yard for him.

  Sea Sprite was perplexed by the drop noseband. He was too distracted by it to make immediate trouble. Bloch took the reins from me and started on his way. Sea Sprite tossed his head and brought his shoulder against the stableman’s back. Bloch stepped aside, holding the reins at arms length. It was only then that he realized the horse was not going to follow him like a child’s toy on a string. He probably regretted not having Philip along, but he still thought himself in control. He set off again with a jerk on the reins and a curse on his lips.

  Hans and I rushed ahead to where we could watch the scene. As we passed through the other end of the stable, Charles and a couple of other boys stopped us.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “Bloch’s bringing the mare around for Hugo,” I said.

  �
��Only he got Sea Sprite by mistake!” added Hans.

  “What?” said Charles. The three of them jumped up to join us. We came to the trees behind the terrace, where we could see the backs of the people seated there.

  Hugo was there, and his banker friend, but so were several others. I felt some regret then, for among the others were the marquis and a quiet little woman I realized was the queen. Duke Sigmond was sitting beside her, looking rather gloomy as he turned his profile to me. Off to one side was Tybalt, standing beside his seated mother.

  Bloch and Sea Sprite came into view, struggling. Sea Sprite was getting impatient now. He had broken into a trot, and Bloch was puffing hard to keep up, jerking the reins, which made Sea Sprite lay his ears back.

  “Well,” I said to Hans. “Hugo wanted her energetic.”

  Hugo was standing with his back to Bloch’s approach. He was addressing the group, but in particular Herr Stenner.

  “She’s a fine mare,” he said. “Best blood Lifbau has to offer. Dropped nothing but the best of foals. She’s beautiful, and she has the temperament of a dove.”

  “Beautiful, yes, but . . . ,” said Stenner, looking beyond him. Hugo turned to see the horse and man charge up to the terrace.

  “Stop, damn you!” said Bloch as he hauled the animal around in a circle to stop its charge. Sea Sprite stamped a forefoot and shook his mane. The ribbon was already in disarray. The ears were back and the eyes were rolling.

  “Bloch!” said Hugo. “What’s this?”

  “This is your mare?” asked Herr Stenner. For a moment everyone sat still, watching Sea Sprite chew and strain at his noseband. Then Tybalt stepped forward with a chuckle.

  “Uncle,” he said. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you the difference between boy-horses and girl-horses?” He collapsed with laughter into a chair. The banker slapped his knee and joined him. Even the marquis began to chuckle, while us stableboys in the back had long given over to snickering. The queen, however, rose slowly.

  “Bloch, I think you’ve made a mistake,” she said. “Surely that’s Sea Sprite.”

  “Is this some kind of a joke?” bellowed Hugo, while Tybalt began to choke and cough. Bloch froze in horror, staring at the horse he had on his hands. He began to back away, but Sea Sprite followed with a stamp and a hop. “This is your doing,” Hugo accused Tybalt.

  “No, Uncle,” said Tybalt. “Honestly.”

  At this point Sea Sprite had had enough. He stamped both front feet and tore away, right into the center of the people. The marquis pulled the queen away, and everyone scattered, knocking over chairs and yelling, everyone except the Viscountess von Stenbau. She stood and pointed imperiously at the horse.

  “Tybalt!” she said. “Stop that beastly animal at once.”

  “Yes, Mother,” he said, shoving her aside, onto her rear, but out of Sprite’s path. He grabbed the trailing lead rein and leapt onto his back. Sprite came to a quick halt under sure handling, but not before the two of them demolished a teatable. Tybalt slipped off and led him back to Bloch, who seemed reluctant to take the reins back.

  “I don’t believe it!” came a voice behind me. Philip pushed his way through the crowd of stableboys. He stared at Bloch and Sea Sprite, then he looked down at me. “I guess I do believe it,” he muttered. He trotted over to Bloch and took the reins.

  “We better get back,” said Hans. “I think we’re in trouble.”

  A clatter of hooves announced their arrival. Philip came first, with Sea Sprite, and he only rolled his eyes when he saw me. Bloch came after, face red, and pointing.

  “There,” he said to the marquis, who looked none too pleased himself. “There is the culprit. I know you like him, but I’ve complained about him before. What are you going to do about him?” Bloch was too angry to even show his usual respect for his betters.

  The marquis ignored him. He fixed his eyes on me and gestured with one finger for me to follow him into the tack room.

  “Well, Albert,” he said crisply, once we were inside with the door closed. “I understand you were responsible for that.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said right back.

  “And sullen in the bargain?”

  “No, sir,” I said, dropping my gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “He deserved it,” I said, looking up again.

  “Albert . . . .”

  “He’s head stableman!” I said. “He should be able to handle Sea Sprite, and he should know one horse from another.”

  “That doesn’t excuse you,” he said, shaking his head. “Somebody could have been hurt.”

  “I never meant....”

  “I know. I know. I don’t doubt your good intentions.”

  “What about me getting hurt? Or Hans?”

  “Hans?”

  “Bloch does everything out of spite. Do you know why I was riding Sea Sprite the other day? Because Bloch was mad at me and he expected I would get hurt.”

  “Albert, you can’t be sure of such a thing.”

  “Everyone told me that right after!” I insisted. “He uses that horse to punish people. He has his nephew do most of the handling of him, and Hans is the last person in the world to handle Sea Sprite. It’s about time somebody turned the tables on him.”

  “And you took it on yourself,” he said sternly. “You know, you may have got him dismissed.”

  “He should be.”

  “Albert!”

  “I smashed his window, too.”

  “What?”

  “A week ago, with a rock.”

  “What am I going to do with you, Albert?” he said, clapping his hand to his forehead.

  “I am sorry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t do anything. I can’t let this go by. You knew Bloch would get into trouble with that animal, even if he should have known better.”

  I nodded and looked at the floor again. After a pause I heard him make a small strangled sound in his throat.

  “You caused a great deal of embarrassment...,” his voice squeaked in an effort to contain a laugh, “...to a member of the royal house!” He cleared his throat. “Thanks in part to Tybalt’s comments.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said and bit my lip to suppress a grin. “I’m sorry, sir.” He sighed and became serious again, rubbing the back of his neck and frowning.

  “I should lay into you with this,” he said, shaking his riding crop at me, “but I’m not going to.”

  “You’re not?”

  “I did it to Tybalt once, when he was your age.”

  “Really?”

  “Didn’t do him a bit of good, but it did a world of good for the rest of us.”

  “Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t like you,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets. I felt a piece of paper.

  “Now, Albert. What am I going to do with...?”

  “Oh!” I said, interrupting. I pulled out the piece of paper.

  “What is it?”

  “Oh!” I said. “The telegram! From Bartleby.” I handed it to him. He read it, my misbehavior forgotten almost at once.

  “Missing five years?” he said, scratching his head.

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” I said. “She might have disappeared on her own, then been kidnapped only just now.”

  “Yes. Or not. I can’t just ignore it,” he said. “I’ll have to look into what the bishop was doing five years ago. Oh dear. Now, Albert,” he said, folding the paper and putting it in his breast pocket. “I don’t want any more trouble from you. None at all. Otherwise I’ll have to send you home. Please, think before you act.”

  I nodded, but he had already stopped paying attention, he was concentrating so on the news from Bartleby. I went ahead of him out of the room. Bloch was waiting for me with a very righteous look on his face.

  “Finally,” he said, almost grinning. “I’ve finally got rid of you.”

  “Oh?” I said innocently.


  “My lord!” said Bloch to the marquis. “Didn’t you dismiss him? I must protest! This boy....”

  “He’s a stableboy,” said the marquis, drawn at last from his thoughts. “I expect such from stableboys, but a head stableman should have some degree of competence. You’d best come up to the palace.”

  Then Bloch knew it was over, and I realized what a stupid thing I had done. Bloch was going to be dismissed, and absolutely nothing was going to happen to me. He turned to look at me, and I looked away.

  “Well, Albert,” he said. “Albert what? What is the rest of your name?”

  “Shultz, sir,” I said quietly, after a moment’s hesitation.

  “Well, Albert Shultz of Halzig,” he hissed, “you’ll be sorry.”

  “I am,” I said as he turned away and followed the marquis.

  I did not see Philip for the rest of the day. He had been called up to the palace too. In the evening, though, I found him sitting in his room, feet up on a table, drinking apple brandy. When I came in he shook his head and frowned at me. Then he raised his glass.

  “Here’s to you, Albert,” he said with less humor than usual. “You really have a talent for trouble, you know. But how can I scold you when you’ve got me a better job?”

  “So they did dismiss him?”

  “Two weeks notice,” he said. “Surprised me they didn’t pay him off and show him the door.”

  He frowned and shook his head, dropping forward. He took a drink and pointed a finger at me, looking unnaturally stern.

  “You!” he said and slammed his drink down on the table, spilling some. I flinched and braced for the tongue lashing. “You...I...I don’t know what to say. You are a smart boy, but....” He sat back. “He deserved it. He deserved it he deserved it he deserved it!” He threw back his head and pounded the arms of his chair in rhythm to the words. He stood up laughing. “I did all of the work for that man, you know. Now I am rewarded.” He stepped forward and kissed me smack on the forehead.

  “You’re not mad at me?”

  “Yes, I’m mad at you,” he said. “Of course. People could have been hurt. It could have been a disaster, but Providence smiled and the right man got it.”

  I had not realized the depth of Philip’s feelings on the matter. He shook his head and filled his glass again.

  “Are you drunk?” I asked.

  “A little,” he said, nodding.

  “You should be careful or you’ll be dismissed too.”

  “Nope,” he said. “I’m not that drunk. Just celebrating. You want some?”

  “No,” I said. “I get into trouble.”

  Philip wasn’t even listening. “He deserrrrrrved it!” he sang as he put the bottle away in the cupboard.

  “He sure did,” I said. Already I was feeling less guilty. It was nice to have done someone some good. Hans, too, actually. Unless.... “You’re going to keep Hans on, aren’t you?”

  “Of course,” he said. “He does his job. I might not have hired him, but the only one who would fire him is his own uncle.”