Goldmayne: A Fairy Tale

by Kate Stradling

  Wildfire thought on this for another long moment. “Have you heard anything more about the chambermaid, Lizzie? You said she traded favors with Alberta. What became of her?”

  “She was unjustly dismissed for causing Princess Alberta’s sprain,” Duncan replied.

  “Has there been any word of her since then, though?”

  He didn’t know. He hadn’t heard anything from the other servants. “What are you driving at?”

  “What was the favor she traded?” Wildfire answered. “Alberta calls herself a villain, and she seems to go out of her way to make others think of her that way. Why?”

  “I don’t know!” cried Duncan in frustration. “It’s like they’re trying to act out a fairy tale or something!”

  “They wouldn’t,” said Wildfire immediately, though. “They wouldn’t. Fairy tales hit too close to home for them. They wouldn’t pretend.”

  Suspicion twisted through Duncan’s heart. “What do you know?”

  “Some history, that’s all. It doesn’t bear delving into. Just… see if any of the other servants have heard from Lizzie or not, all right? You’d better go now, before Gardener comes looking for you. You’re in Alberta’s bad graces, but there’s no reason to incur anyone else’s.”

  Duncan was always in Gardener’s bad graces. Still, he waved a silent, sullen farewell to the horse and returned to his chores as commanded.

  Roderick of Peltingham arrived that afternoon amid much fanfare. The servants were commanded to line the walkway to the castle and salute his entrance, as they did for each of Princess Margaret’s suitors. Duncan watched the sallow-faced, bulbous-nosed man ride by and felt sorry for him.

  “I heard he gets hay fever every time he comes,” he whispered to Jimmy next to him.

  “Snot runs down his nose like it’s a faucet,” the younger under-gardener confirmed with an ill-concealed smirk. “He’s the reason we had to deadhead all the flowers, you know.”

  Duncan nodded thoughtfully. On sudden impulse he inquired, “Have you heard any news of that maid who was dismissed several days back, Lizzie?”

  Jimmy’s brows shot up. “The housekeeper had a letter from her yesterday, actually. She’s getting married at the end of the month. Take that, Princess Alberta!”

  The timing of that fortuitous event perplexed Duncan even more. He muddled over it that evening and the next morning, but felt instinctively that he was missing some larger piece of the puzzle.

  Chapter 17

  Roderick of Peltingham left only a couple of days after he arrived, though his visit had been scheduled for two weeks. Duncan saw him go, noticed his red nose and watery eyes, and guiltily turned his attention back down to the shrubbery he was trimming. The hay fever had struck again quite nicely, it seemed. Gardener berated them all that evening for somehow failing to manage the pollen in the air, but only because King Edwin had scolded him first.

  The departure of one suitor brought with it news of the arrival of another, a nobleman from Briarly. “Persistent, isn’t he?” one of the stable boys remarked at supper. “I don’t know why he’s coming again, though—everyone knows he’s mad for Princess Bellinda, not Princess Margaret. Princess Alberta’s like a brick wall blocking off that match.”

  “Remember the last time he came?” asked his friend. “He brought along that nasty old fellow to woo Princess Alberta, to get her out of the way. The fellow had King Edwin’s blessing, too. I thought for sure if anyone could teach foul-tempered Alberta a lesson, it would be him.”

  “He would’ve, if he hadn’t gone blind three days into the visit.”

  “How did he go blind?” Duncan interrupted in concern.

  The two boys exchanged a glance. “She cursed him,” said the first.

  “No!” said the second. “The fool got poison ivy in his eyes when they were all out tromping through the forest for a walk.”

  “Because she cursed him,” the first insisted.

  The second conceded this point with a shrug.

  Duncan breathed a sigh of relief. The servants might have attributed such a mishap to a curse, but he charted it down to carelessness on the man’s part. Curses didn’t make people inept around dangerous plants; they turned people into horses.

  Lord Briarly’s attempt to divert Princess Alberta’s attentions may have failed miserably on his last visit, but he had something new up his sleeve for this time. One of the coachmen (one of the many Johns) clapped Duncan on the shoulder as he headed out to his shed for the night. “You know where the old ruined abbey is, about a mile away from here?” he asked.

  Duncan warily sized him up, hesitant to answer a question about Sir Goldmayne’s favorite hiding place. “Yes.”

  “Some of us are meeting there tomorrow afternoon,” Coachman John said. “We’re going to discuss a matter that should interest you, Scurvyhead. Lord Briarly’s valet has arrived with a little proposition for a few of us. You should come.”

  “What kind of proposition?” Duncan inquired with a frown. “Why would it interest me?”

  “You’ve been run over roughshod by Princess Alberta, that’s why. Oh, but it’s been nice not to have her stalking across the castle grounds these past two weeks. She actually left her rooms today, though. We won’t have the luxury of freedom from her anymore. Come to the abbey tomorrow afternoon, ’round three o’clock, Scurvyhead. It’ll be worth your while, I promise you.”

  Duncan did not like the sounds of that. Much as he disliked Alberta, he disliked even more the idea of servants conspiring against her. He decided to consult Wildfire on the matter.

  “Obviously we should go,” the horse replied immediately, “not to attend the meeting, but to spy on it. We’ll get there early and hide so we can listen.”

  “How am I supposed to get away from my work?”

  “Tell them Princess Alberta sent you on an errand.”

  “What if she really summons me?”

  “Ignore it.”

  “Wildfire!”

  “Do you want to know what it’s all about or not?” asked the white horse.

  Of course he wanted to know, but he didn’t want to call any danger down upon his own head. Wildfire had never exhibited much concern for Duncan’s sense of self-preservation, though.

  “Come get me from here before two o’clock,” he commanded. “We’ll go early and hide ourselves in the abbey so we can eavesdrop properly.”

  “What if they find us?”

  “So what? You were invited. You simply tell them that you got there early and fell asleep waiting.”

  “Then why don’t I just attend the meeting outright?”

  “Because you don’t want to be associated with whatever sort of mischief they’re going to stir up, if you can possibly help it. We’ll go early. We’ll hide ourselves. We’ll listen in and decide whether to intervene in their plans. Maybe it’s something harmless.”

  Coachman John had not seemed very harmless when he extended the invitation. Duncan swallowed uncertainly. “All right,” he agreed.

  Accordingly, the following afternoon he informed Gardener that Princess Alberta was sending him on another wild goose chase. The man could not argue with a royal edict. Duncan retrieved Wildfire from the stable and together they proceeded to the ruined abbey with a full hour to spare.

  Even with that buffer of time, they approached with caution. Someone else might’ve come early to prepare the meeting place, or to perform their own stakeout. Careful review of the area showed the abbey to be as deserted as ever, though.

  “Where do you suppose they’ll meet?” Duncan asked. “Inside? Outside?”

  “Inside, I’d imagine. Regardless of how many are coming, they’ll probably just congregate in the nave or the cloister. We can hide in the chapter house, or in one of the smaller rooms—the library or the parlor. We’d best be someplace where we won’t have to scramble out of anyone’s way as they come and go.”

  Together they entered the nave through a pointed stone archway. The roof had lo
ng since collapsed, and moss and vines grew all over the crumbling walls. Grass grew up between the broken stones of the floor, which slanted at every angle in a seeming attempt to trip up trespassers. Duncan had never explored the place much, because he thought it was spooky.

  “Where did you hide your halberd?” Wildfire asked him.

  Duncan was not as well versed in the abbey’s layout as Wildfire seemed to be. “One of the rooms off that inner courtyard,” he said with a vague gesture forward. “It was a big room, with narrow, pointed windows. I tucked it back behind some fallen blocks there.”

  “In the chapter house,” Wildfire supplied. “Let’s go there first, then, and make certain it’s hidden out of sight, just in case anyone decides to wander the ruins, or in case the coming congregation decides they want to make that their meeting place.”

  They crossed the overgrown cloister to the double arches that marked entry to this section of the abbey. By daytime the chapter house was relatively bright, with several sets of windows to allow sunlight into its confines. Duncan’s cloth-wrapped halberd lay plainly exposed beneath one of these windows, next to a pile of rubble.

  Behind him, Wildfire snorted. “You call that a hiding place?”

  “It was hidden in the dark,” said Duncan defensively.

  “The least you could do is stack some of those rocks over the blade and along the staff. Anyone can tell that’s a halberd just by looking at it!”

  Duncan obeyed this suggestion, though he was annoyed as he did it. No one had found the weapon yet, obviously, but it wouldn’t hurt to camouflage it more completely into the ruin around it.

  “What’s this over here?” Wildfire suddenly asked. Duncan looked up from his growing pile of rubble to discover the horse on the other side of the chapter house. He stood over a large block, seemed to stare directly at it.

  “Is there something behind that stone?” Duncan asked, wondering if the horse had gone daft.

  “This is a box,” Wildfire retorted. “It’s only painted to look like a stone.” He nudged it with one hoof, but it didn’t budge. “It’s pretty heavy, too.”

  Duncan left behind the concealed halberd and approached in growing confusion. Not until he was nearly upon the object did he make out the seam that marked the lid of the box. Whoever had painted it had done an incredible job of blending it against the surrounding stones.

  “What d’you s’pose is in it?” he asked.

  Wildfire backed up a pace, and his ears flicked nervously. “Let’s not investigate,” he said. “Maybe later, when we don’t have to worry about people coming. Not now.”

  Duncan could tell by the horse’s expression that the camouflaged box troubled him. He could also tell that asking further would get him nowhere. “Should we go keep a lookout for anyone who’s coming?” he inquired.

  Wildfire was already halfway to the door. “We’ll start off in the nave and retreat back from there when we see the first person from afar. The entrance faces the castle, so I can’t imagine we’re going to get anyone from any other direction.”

  As they crossed the cloister for the archway that led back into the front of the nave, though, Duncan heard the sound of a galloping horse beyond the ruined walls.

  “Someone’s here already,” he hissed to Wildfire, who swiftly bolted toward the crumbling area that had once been the dormitory. The roof was missing here as well, and the walls were in a terrible state, with gaps that opened onto the front aspect of the abbey. Duncan followed and saw Wildfire peek around one ruined corner, only to recoil.

  He hurried forward to have a look himself. The rider had pulled to a stop in front of the nave and dismounted, hidden for the moment behind a great chestnut mare. When a cloak-swathed figure stepped forward, reins in hand to lead the horse into the nave, Duncan hissed and drew back as well.

  “What’s she doing here?” he asked in horror, for the newcomer was none other than Princess Alberta herself.

  “Maybe she got wind of the meeting and came to investigate,” Wildfire answered in a hushed voice. “Very foolish of her if she did.” They stealthily crept toward the wall that separated this space from the cloister, just in time to see Alberta and her horse come through the archway from the nave. She walked with purpose across the cloister, directly toward the chapter house.

  “She’s still limping,” Duncan whispered under his breath.

  “She’s compensating well. She probably doesn’t even realize it,” said Wildfire in much the same tones.

  Across the cloister, Alberta suddenly halted and looked around suspiciously. Duncan and Wildfire both ducked out of sight. For several tense breaths, no one moved. Then, Alberta dismissed whatever had caused her sudden caution and proceeded into the confines of the chapter house.

  “You don’t suppose that box is hers, do you?” Wildfire whispered, and he started from their hiding place.

  Duncan scrambled after him. They skirted into the nave for cover and followed it down to its second entrance into the cloister, along the same wall where the chapter house stood. Cautiously they approached, sidled up against the wall and ears perked for any suspicious noises. The clinking of glass against stone issued from within.

  Wildfire quickly glanced through a window and ducked out of sight again. Duncan peeked stealthily inside to see Alberta crouched over the false-stone box. Its lid was hinged back, and she was removing glass jars from its confines. Some she stowed in a bag slung over her shoulder. Others she inspected and replaced within the box. Nearby, her chestnut mare stood idle, either accustomed to its surroundings or uncaring of them.

  Duncan motioned for Wildfire to follow him. They crept back into the nave. “What’s she doing?” the horse asked in a hushed voice.

  “She’s collecting her tinctures, I’d wager,” Duncan replied. “They have to sit for weeks in a cold, dark place before they’re complete—what better place than this to keep them? And if she hasn’t been able to come for a couple of weeks, she probably has several that are past due. Of course she’d want to retrieve them.”

  “Her timing couldn’t be worse,” Wildfire declared.

  On this point they could agree. “Maybe she’ll finish and be gone before anyone else comes,” said Duncan, with a nervous glance toward the nave’s entrance.

  Wildfire tossed his head irritably. “I’ll keep watch for any newcomers. You keep watch for Alberta to come out.”

  “What happens if someone comes before she goes?”

  “You’ll have to grab her and keep her out of sight,” said Wildfire pragmatically. “Tell her exactly what’s going on—she’s a rational creature, so you should be able to reason with her.”

  Duncan wasn’t so sure of this. He kept one eye on the doorway into the cloister and the other on Wildfire, who trotted quietly over to the pointed arch that led outward. The horse positioned himself as a lookout. Duncan turned his full attention on the shadowy entrance to the chapter house.

  Princess Alberta had ridden out of the castle alone almost every day when he first arrived, he realized as he waited. She must have been coming to tend to the collection of concoctions she kept here. She probably mixed them here as well, could be mixing new infusions at this very moment.

  Minutes passed and she still didn’t come.

  At the other end of the nave, though, Wildfire suddenly tossed his head in an urgent gesture. Duncan didn’t have time to consider his actions. He plunged forward into the cloister, intent upon keeping Princess Alberta there.

  Her timing really was the worst. Hooves clopping against stone sounded in his ears. Alberta and her horse emerged from the nearest arch just in time for Duncan to clap a hand over her mouth and drag her back inward.

  “Quiet,” he hissed, her startled protest muffled by his hand. “Please, your Highness, there are others coming. You have to keep quiet. I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

  Her brows drew together in a scowl, but she did keep her voice down as he gingerly removed his hand.

  “What a
re you doing here?” she whispered fiercely.

  Duncan cast a nervous glance back over his shoulder to see Wildfire enter through the arch. “Well?” he asked.

  The horse tossed its head and moved deeper into the chapter house. Of course he wouldn’t talk in front of Alberta, Duncan thought stupidly. He never talked when others were present.

  Duncan caught her arm and followed the horse. “A group of people is coming to meet here,” he said as they went. “You need to stay out of sight until they’ve all gone again.”

  “Why?” she asked suspiciously, though she did allow him to lead her forward.

  The chapter house was comprised of two large rooms. Duncan deposited her just within the interior of the second. “I’m going to fetch your horse,” he said, for the creature still stood out in the open. He trotted back, snatched up her reins, and led her into the second room, out of sight from the cloister.

  “You have to stay out of sight,” he said again to Alberta, and he peered nervously toward the weedy expanse of green. Maybe they would choose to meet in the nave, he thought hopefully. Maybe they wouldn’t come anywhere near here.

  “Who’s coming?” Alberta asked. For the moment, it seemed she had taken his word on the matter, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes. It told him she would bolt if he did not satisfy her inquiry quick enough.

  “There’s this lord who’s going to visit,” he said, and he tried to remember the details. “What’s his name, Briar-patch?”

  “Briarly,” she said, and contempt twisted across her face.

  “That’s the one,” said Duncan. “He sent a servant ahead, a valet, or something. He’s to meet here with some of the castle servants—ah! Shh!” He waved her to be silent and ducked down on the opposite side of the doorway. Alberta peered stealthily around her corner. Duncan did the same.

  Across the expanse of the chapter house, through the double archway that led out, they saw two figures cross with horses in tow. Voices floated back their direction.

  “We’ll just meet out here, I suppose. How long are we going to have to wait for the others?”