By the side of the road lay three large wooden wheels of cheese in different sizes. Ven looked down the road leading east to the Great River. In the distance he thought he could hear the clopping of horses' hooves and the rattling of wagons.
"Do you want to start moving the cheese now?" he asked Char. "It sounds like we have a few minutes before the first wagon gets here."
His friend looked at the cheese wheels. "I think I could prolly take the smallest two by myself," Char said. "You wait here for the wagons. Then, once all the deliveries are done, we'll move the big one together."
"Sounds good," Ven agreed. He helped Char stand the two smallest wheels up and watched as his friend rolled them toward the icehouse shed near the stable. He could see a tall figure come out of the stable in the dark as Char approached, and realized it was Vincent Cadwalder, the house steward of Hare Warren. Cadwalder took one of the wheels and held the icehouse door open for Char.
As he was watching the two boys store the cheese, the sound behind him grew louder. Ven turned to see three wagons approaching, though he could not make out what they were carrying in the dark. He waved his arms, feeling a little foolish, but not wanting to miss the deliveries.
By the time the first wagon slowed to a stop at the crossroads, Char had returned.
"Gah, look at all those apples," he murmured. "That should take a while to unload."
"Not all of them are for the Inn, I'd bet," Ven said. "I'm sure he's taking the rest of them to Kingston."
Char nodded as the farmer stood up, pushed his straw hat back and pointed into the wagon.
"Those ten bushels are for Trudy," the man said crisply. "Make haste, young'uns, I want ta be to town before daybreak."
"Yes, sir," Ven said as Char climbed into the wagon. The two boys unloaded the bushels as quickly as they could, then waved to the farmer as he started west. Char picked up two bushels and headed into the Inn while Ven waited for the second wagon. That one was full of corn, and just as they were finishing unloading Mrs. Snodgrass's order, a third wagon pulled up, full of parsnips, with one man driving the horses and a second following behind on a mule.
"Give us just a moment, please," Ven called to the man driving the third wagon. Beneath his straw hat, the farmer nodded. The boys finished quickly, then waited for the third wagon to replace the second in front of the Inn.
"Thank you for your patience," Ven said to the driver, who nodded again. The second farmer came down from the mule and walked over to the wagon. He reached inside, gave Char a large sack of parsnips, handed another to Ven, and then hauled two more up onto his shoulders. He turned and started for the Inn.
"Want these in through the front or at the back kitchen door?" he asked. There was something vaguely familiar about his voice, but Ven could not see him clearly in the dark. Besides, all farmers and people who worked outdoors wore broad-brimmed straw hats in the summer, making it hard to see them anyway.
"If it's all the same to you, the back would be great, thanks," said Char. "We appreciate the help."
"Always happy to lend a hand," said the farmer. He trudged around behind the Inn, with the two boys following him, lugging their sacks of parsnips. When he got to the door, he held it open for Char, who went through first, then nodded to Ven to go next.
"Thank you," Ven said as he struggled with the heavy sack.
The man chuckled. "Not at all," he said. "How are you this morning, Ven?"
Ven stopped in his tracks. He stared up under the broad brim of the man's hat and saw two blue eyes twinkling at him in return. His mouth dropped open.
"Your Majesty?" he asked, thunderstruck. "What are you doing here?"
2
The Big Day Begins
KING VANDEMERE PUT A FINGER TO HIS LIPS.
"Shhh," he whispered. "I'm delivering parsnips."
"Well, yes," said Ven quietly in return. "I can see that. But why? I just saw you yesterday. I thought you couldn't even get out of the castle without all of Westland and the entire Castle Elysian knowing about it."
"That's usually true," said the king. "But first things first." He followed Char into the kitchen, with Ven coming a moment later, dragging his sack of parsnips.
Mrs. Snodgrass was still bustling around the kitchen, unpacking the apples. She didn't even turn around as Ven and the disguised king came in. "Put those over there," she ordered, pointing to the corner. "And don't bruise them, you oafs." The king complied, then touched his hat respectfully before leaving the kitchen. Ven followed him, but paused at the door.
"I'll get the rest of the deliveries, Char," he said. "And I'll put the last cheese wheel in the icehouse. You and Felitza can get started on breakfast."
"Thanks, mate," Char said. Ven grinned, then caught up with the king.
Vandemere stopped in the middle of the main room and looked around in wonder.
"It's just as you described it," he said. "There's magic everywhere in this place."
"Did you just want to see the Inn? Is that why you're here?" Ven asked. His scalp was burning like wildfire.
Ever since the day I left my father's factory to do an Inspection of the new ship he had just finished, my curiosity has been raging almost non-stop. I am an odd Nain, like my great-grandfather, Magnus the Mad, who left the mountains of Castenen to set up the shipbuilding factory centuries ago.
The Nain consider this a sign of madness, by the way, hence Magnus's nickname and the strange looks people give me.
In the course of having my wish for adventure come true, I have had my ship attacked by Fire Pirates and blown up, been shipwrecked, arrested, thrown in jail, captured by assassins, lost in underground sewers, chased by thugs and all sorts of other dangerous things.
Maybe this proves the Nain are right after all.
But I still haven't gotten the itch of curiosity out of my head.
Fortunately, King Vandemere understands this.
He has the itch, too.
For a brief moment I was officially his Royal Reporter, searching for magic left over from the dawn of Creation that is still alive in the world today, much of it hiding in plain sight, just as the king had done when he was my age. The king fired me almost immediately so that I would not become a target of people who might be looking for that magic themselves for evil purposes. But I still am out in the world, being the eyes of the king. Nobody knows this but the king, my friends and me, but I am willing and happy to do it for him.
Because I understand how much the curiosity itch can drive a person crazy.
"Seeing the Inn is wonderful," the king said, "but I would never risk leaving the castle just for the sake of curiosity, especially these days. Let's move your cheese to the icehouse and I'll tell you more." He took a final look around the Inn, sighed contentedly, and made his way to the door, with Ven close behind him.
As they passed the hearth, McLean, who had been playing a soft windy-sounding song to a group of invisible Spice Folk, stopped in mid-note. His head turned in the direction of the king. He bowed slightly, then returned to his song.
"Well, McLean knows you're here," said Ven once they were outside the Inn. "If you were hoping to remain totally in disguise and have no one notice, I think that hope is dashed."
"We have far more pressing worries, Ven," said the king, taking hold of the largest wheel of cheese and standing it on its end. "You need to leave Westland immediately, as soon as humanly possible." He started to roll the wheel toward the icehouse. "Or Nainly possible, if there is such a thing."
Ven helped him push. "Because of the Thief Queen?" he asked nervously.
"Yes. Grateful as I am that you were willing to go into the Gated City to discover the story of my father's lightstone, I fear that you have made a very powerful and very vengeful enemy because of it. From the time that penal colony was established, no one has ever escaped from the Queen of Thieves, as far as anyone knows. The Raven's Guild in that market of thieves is all-powerful—or at least it was until you got in, then got out again, tak
ing the Queen's daughter with you. Felonia does not forgive—ever. And she seems to be intent on finding you."
"When we were in her chambers, she said that every exit, even the secret ones out of the market, had been sealed, at least temporarily, so that we couldn't escape. Of course, we did, er, escape, but I thought I had a couple more days before anyone could get out of the Gated City to come after me."
The king shook his head. "I doubt that," he said. "You have less time than we originally thought. There have been huge flocks of ravens flying across Westland and even the open fields past the river all the way to Castle Elysian all night."
"Ravens at night? I thought ravens only flew by day."
"That's true most of the time," said the king. He stopped in front of the icehouse, lifted the latch, and opened the door. "But there is a breed of bird known as the night-hunting raven. They are very rarely seen in Serendair because they live in lands north of the equator. It seems that the Raven's Guild is using them as spies.
"Additionally, the fishermen in Kingston have been reporting a large amount of noise and underwater disturbance off the shore outside the walls of the Inner Market. It has long been rumored that tunnels exist into the sea below the ground there—if they were sealed quickly, as you say, it now seems as if the thieves of the Raven's Guild are trying to get them reopened. They are looking for any exit they can find. The harbormaster has ordered all the fishing and shipping vessels away from that area, to keep them from danger."
"Felonia can even threaten the harbor?" Ven's throat went suddenly dry.
"The Thief Queen has eyes everywhere, Ven, and will stop at nothing to get what she wants. From what you told me of your adventure within the Gated City, I am certain that her anger is raging, especially toward you. You escaped from her prison—and you took her daughter with you. You cost her an important alliance, since the marriage Felonia planned to force her daughter into is now ruined. She may be angry enough to make use of every tool she has to find you both. I am sending you away, out of Westland, across the Great River, to the eastern lands, long enough to escape her clutches. This is imperative, Ven—I fear for your life if you don't leave quickly. I want you out of Westland by sunset.
"While you're gone, we can make it seem as if you've left the island on a ship. I'll make all the arrangements to have that rumor released into the Gated City. I'll also get Captain Snodgrass to bring back word from the sea that you have been sighted in a far land. If you can stay away for a month or more, I believe that Felonia will think you got away and she will give up the search. Then you can come quietly back from the eastern lands to the Crossroads Inn."
The prickling excitement in Ven's scalp was fighting with a hint of anxiety.
"I don't know anything about the lands to the east of the river," he said, trying not to sound nervous. "The only place I've ever been past the river is your castle."
The king slammed the icehouse door shut and reset the handle.
"I know," he said, heading back to the wagon. "I have everything arranged—well, almost. We just need a few more provisions, and Tuck will take care of that this morning."
"Tuck?"
"Polypheme, you idiot—make certain that door is closed!" Cadwalder's voice rang out from inside the dark stable.
The king glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at Ven.
"That would be your house steward?"
Ven groaned. "Yes. Vincent Cadwalder."
"The one who framed you for theft?"
"Again, yes."
"He's still here? Why?"
"Mrs. Snodgrass has a kind heart," Ven said, "and an iron fist. She knows he has nowhere else to go—his parents were killed by brigands at the crossroads when he was just a baby. But she is getting extra work out of him, and it's smelly, unpleasant work to boot."
"Hmm. Seems like all things point to this being an excellent time for you to be leaving for a while. When you come back, be careful of that young man, Ven. These days it's important to know who you can really trust. And you're about to be introduced to someone you can." The king returned to the wagon with Ven at his heels, trying to keep up with him in the dark.
The king stopped in front of the other driver, removed the hood of the wagon's lantern and leaned up against the buckboard.
"Ven," he said, "meet Tuck."
The driver lifted the brim of his hat and nodded politely.
I knew immediately there was something different about him, even though I could barely see him in the shadows of the small flickering light. He also seemed familiar somehow, though I was certain I had never heard his name before.
Tuck seemed to have a very pleasant face, oval with high cheekbones, and not a tremendous amount of hair underneath the straw hat. His eyes were both bright and piercing, a light color that I learned was green once I saw him in daylight. They twinkled merrily, and he was smiling slightly. Then he dropped the brim of his hat and faded back into the shadows again.
"Good day, Tuck," Ven said. "Have I met you before?"
"You may have seen him in the gardens of Castle Elysian," King Vandemere said. "Tuck is my chief forester. He is in charge of all the new plantings you saw last time you were there. He designed all of the topiary hedges shaped like dragons and griffins and such."
"Oh yes," said Ven excitedly. "They're quite beautiful."
Tuck chuckled. "They might be when they grow," he said. "Now they're just plantings with wire cages around them." His voice was clear and low, his words clipped. It sounded as if he did not speak very often, and when he did each word was important.
"In case you can't tell in the dark, Ven, Tuck is Lirin," the king continued. "I know you have met very few Lirin, and there are lots of kinds of them. There are Lirindarc, the kind of Lirin who live in forests, and Liringlas, who live in open fields. There are even Lirinpan, who live in cities. Tuck's people are known as the Lirinved, the In-between, who are equally at home in forests and fields, but live in neither. They wander, a little like Rovers. Tuck knows the lands east of the Great River better than any man I know. I would trust him with my life, and I think you're safe trusting him with yours, and that of any of your friends you feel might also be in danger."
Ven thought about Ida, the daughter of the Queen of Thieves who lived in Mouse Lodge, the girls' dormitory behind the Inn. He had no doubt that her mother was looking for her as well as for him. Then he thought about how interested the Thief Queen had been in Saeli, the little Gwadd girl who also lived in Mouse Lodge and had an almost magical way with flowers and plants, as all Gwadd did. The Thief Queen loved poisonous plants, and was very happy to have Saeli to tend her collection of them. Saeli's escape probably made her as angry as Ida's had.
Finally, his mind went to Char. Felonia had taken an instant dislike to him, instructing her soldiers to shoot him first if any of them tried to get away.
"I think we have to get everyone who went into the Inner Market of the Gated City out of Westland," he said at last. "We all managed to make the Thief Queen angry in our own ways."
The king held up his hand, and Ven fell silent. "Tuck knows the plan, Ven. It's not safe to talk too much more about it out here in the wind. Even though we're standing at the blessed ground of the crossroads, I don't want to take any chances. He's on his way to town now to get the rest of your provisions and supplies. Then he will return to pick up you and your friends, and off you'll go. Are you ready?"
Ven exhaled. The excitement of adventure was dancing in his brain along with the urgent need to get out of Westland. His thoughts were jumbled, so he shook his head to try and straighten them out.
"Let me tell my friends to get ready," he said. "If it's all right with you, sire, I'd like to go to town with Tuck. I have some things to take care of there before I leave."
The king looked solemn. "If you do, stay low in the wagon and keep away from the Gated City," he said. "There's no sense in tempting fate. The Raven's Guild is doing the best it can to find you while they are still trapped wi
thin the walls of the city. You don't want to make their work easy for them."
"No," Ven agreed.
"There is one thing more," said the king. "The last time we spoke I believe I mentioned to you that a dragon was burning the Nain settlements in the foothills of the High Reaches."
"That's right," Ven said. "You did. I forgot about that."
"It's early in the morning still," said the king, looking at the dark fields around them. "You are probably still partially asleep. You need to wake up, though, Ven. I'm not sending you out looking for hidden magic this time. I'm sending you away for your own safety. Your parents are far away—someone needs to look out for you. And even though you are a wise young man—er, Nain—it's still very easy to be overwhelmed by new sights and mystical places. You must keep your head about you now. It's very important."
"I'll stay alert," Ven promised. "But I assume if I see any magic hiding out there, you will want to know about it, won't you?"
The king chuckled. "Always," he said. "But first and foremost, stay safe. Listen to Tuck, and keep your head down." He glanced around him again, and leaned closer.
"I do, however, have a task I would like you to accomplish if you can do so without putting yourself or your friends at risk."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Ven blurted. "What is it?"
The king sighed. "First, you must understand that each of the kingdoms over which I am high king has its own ruler, its own set of laws. I may be in charge of all of them, but only loosely. Some of the kingdoms don't get along very well. There has been an old grudge between the kingdom of the Lirin and the kingdom of the Nain for a long time, something that may soon lead to war if it's not settled. Apparently the Nain have something belonging to the Lirin king that the Lirin want returned to him. And the Lirin have something I want. How to make all that happen, well, it's a tremendous puzzle—and you know how I love a good puzzle."
"Yes indeed, sire," Ven said. His favorite room in the king's palace was filled with nothing but puzzles and thinking games in all sorts of sizes and colors, made of every material imaginable.
The Dragon's Lair Page 2
