by Robert Evert
“Allegedly,” Reg agreed. “So, anyway, King Harold the Elder gave him a harp of gold and sapphire. It’s worth a fortune.”
“It’s priceless.”
“Right. That’s why all the kings are looking for it.”
“They don’t care about its value,” said Sir Edris. “They just want it to one-up each other. You see, Nat, this isn’t about money or a gold harp. It’s about prestige and power. Do you understand what you’ve stumbled in to? The person who finds the harp and gives it to a king will get more than four thousand Culvarian gold coins. They’ll gain influence. And if you have enough influence, your enemies tend to disappear. You understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah.” Natalie nodded. “I think I do. Go on—what happened to the harp?”
“Nobody knows,” said Reg. “But when Balen died, it was assumed the harp went to his grandson, Terrance. Terrance was a musician, as well, but he and Balen despised each other.”
“Why didn’t the harp go to his children?” Natalie asked, confused.
“You’re telling the story all wrong,” said Sir Edris. “Here, let me tell it.” He leaned forward. “Balen had two things he loved above all else: his music, and his daughter, Eleanor. Ever hear the song ‘Ode to the Starflower?’”
“Yes, of course,” Natalie said. “It’s lovely.”
“Eleanor was Balen’s starflower. That’s what the name Eleanor means.”
“So why didn’t she get the harp?”
“I’m getting to that. You see, Eleanor married Sir Walter of Pilner. They had one child: Terrance. Unfortunately, Eleanor and Sir Walter died before Balen did. Balen, you see, lived to be over a hundred years old. It’s said he was in excellent health right up to his very last day.”
“So”—Natalie tried to appear as if she comprehended the significance of all this—“Balen’s possessions went to this Terrance, who didn’t like his grandfather.”
“Yes and no. As I said, Balen had only two loves. Money wasn’t one of them. He gave away most of what he had, so when he died, there wasn’t much left for the grandson.”
“Which set off the grandson something fierce,” added Reg.
Now Natalie was confused again. “So he gave away the golden harp?”
“Unlikely.” The knight sat back in his chair. “The harp disappeared. If he’d given it away, somebody would have remembered. Our assumption was that Terrance had it, that’s why we checked his body.”
“His body?”
“He paid the church enough to be buried in the catacombs.”
“First right, second back, third up,” Natalie repeated. “That was his body, the skeleton you were examining?”
“So it would seem. But it didn’t have a harp, or any indication of where it would be hidden, so that means Terrance wasn’t buried with it.”
“Wait!” said Natalie, even more confused. “How could he have been buried with a harp? They’re…” She lifted her hand to about five feet off the ground.
“It wasn’t that big,” said Reg.
“Even a king wouldn’t want to spend that much gold on a present. We believe the harp was of the variety you hold, you know?” Sir Edris pretended to play a small harp tucked in one arm.
“It probably wasn’t even a real harp.” Reg peered around the yellowing curtains to check outside. The night was growing old. “It probably didn’t work. It was just a gift, an ornament, if you will.”
“In any case, it doesn’t matter—the harp wasn’t there,” Sir Edris said. “My guess is Balen did something with it before he died. He might have melted it down, for all we know. He was that spiteful. Given what he’d done to his grandfather’s body, I wouldn’t have put it past him.”
“What do you mean?” Natalie asked. “What did the grandson do with Balen’s body?”
Reg stepped away from the window. “He burned it.”
“Burned it!”
“And threw the ashes into the Green River. Or at least, so it’s said.”
Sir Edris got to his feet. “Balen decreed that he wanted to be laid to rest with his daughter, but the grandson had other ideas. Again, he wasn’t the pleasant sort.”
“So the question is,” Natalie said slowly, thinking everything through, “where would a spiteful failed musician hide his grandfather’s golden harp?”
“Exactly!” Sir Edris snapped his fingers, then pointed at Natalie. “And if we can answer that, we’ll win this damned quest and avenge your family.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Tell me again,” said Sir Edris, “what exactly did you find in Brago’s saddlebags?”
They were still gathered in the knight’s dilapidated house in the Old Quarter. Midnight had flown by hours ago, and now that the shock of her family’s murder had finally sunk in, Natalie was beyond exhausted. She still wanted revenge; the need for it stabbed at her and twisted her guts. But she also realized going after Brago with an eight-inch knife was more than just stupid. It was suicidal. Besides, Natalie couldn’t even kill the chickens back home. Robbie had to do that.
Her stomach tightened.
Poor Robbie…
Brago would get his in the end. She just had to bide her time and stay alive. She’d make him suffer…someday.
“Nat?”
“Like I said,” Natalie told him, “there were three old books. They must have been two hundred years old. One was a book of Balen’s music.”
“No. That’s meaningless. What about the others?”
Natalie stifled a yawn. “Another was a book with a bunch of family trees in it, with a slip of paper marking Balen’s family.”
“No.” Sir Edris shook his head in frustration. “There’s nothing useful there, either. Dead is dead. What was the third?”
“The third was—” The yawn broke free as Natalie covered her mouth with a dirty hand. “Excuse me…the third was a book about Balen—a biography.”
The knight thumped his fist against his thigh. “None of this makes any sense.”
“Wait.” Natalie sat up straight in sudden realization. “Was that you, at the library in Upper Angle? I saw Brago and somebody else looking through books. The other person was carrying a lantern.”
“Brago was there?” Sir Edris appeared troubled. “What did he do when he saw me? Was he going to ambush me?”
“What? No. No, it looked like he wanted to run.”
“Good.” Sir Edris nodded grimly. “Then he still thinks I can best him in a fight.”
“You’re a foot taller and outweigh him by fifty pounds of muscle.” Natalie rubbed her tired eyes. “Of course he thinks you can best him in a fight.”
“Size and strength have their advantages, Natalie, but so does being small, quick, and cunning. Never measure an opponent by his size. Always keep that in mind.”
“What about the pages?” Reg interrupted. “You said there was a drawing of the cathedral’s interior and a map of the catacombs. What else was there?”
Natalie blinked a couple of times. “I can’t remember. Art would know, though. He looked through them.”
“Where is Artis, by the way?” asked the knight. “Why wasn’t he with you under the cathedral?”
Natalie flushed. “He told me I was being a bitch.”
“Good for him!” Sir Edris cried. “That boy needs a bit of backbone.”
Natalie frowned. “I haven’t seen him since.”
“Don’t worry about Art,” said Reg. “He’ll come around.”
“But that’s just it, I’m not sure if he should. Come around, I mean.” At Reg’s puzzlement, Natalie explained. “We’ve known each other since we were kids, and he’s always been so…that is, he’s always liked me more than I’ve liked him. I see him as just a friend.”
“Ouch!” Sir Edris grimaced. “You might as well kick him in the groin.”
“Don’t give her any ideas.”
Natalie slumped in her chair. “I don’t understand. Why can’t men and women just be friends? Why do boys al
ways want to get married?”
“I’ll tell you why.” The knight sat across from her. “Because winning a woman’s heart is the most perilous quest of all, and men measure themselves by how they are seen by women.”
Natalie groaned. “But why? Why does Art feel so badly when I say we’re just friends? And why does he keep trying so hard to convince me we’re more than that? You’d think telling him once or twice would be enough. Why does he keep coming back?”
“Maybe because he actually loves you,” said Reg.
Natalie jolted awake. She’d always known Artis cared for her, of course, but she assumed it was the innocent kind of “puppy love” all young boys had for young girls. The thought that he might actually be in love with her made her feel even worse. How much pain had her constant rejections inflicted on him over the years?
“Oh, don’t listen to him, Nat. My excellent squire here is still young enough to believe in love.” Sir Edris slid Reg a half-smirk. “When he gets older, he’ll learn that men keep coming back because of the value of the prize they believe they can win. So you should feel honored that Art thinks you’re worth the effort.”
Yet another blow stabbed at Natalie’s heart. She wasn’t worth the effort. Couldn’t anybody else see that?
“Where did Art go?” asked Sir Edris. “Do you have any idea? He may remember more about Brago’s papers.”
Natalie stared at the darkness outside the window.
“After Nat ran off last night,” Reg said, “he told me he wanted a drink. So I’d steered him toward The Goblin’s Head.”
“The Goblin’s Head?” Sir Edris cringed. “Do they still have that goblin’s head above the fireplace?” He turned to Natalie. “They had this goblin head—an actual goblin head, with bones and muscles and everything hanging out—that stank up the place. Honestly, it was like drinking with a corpse lying about.”
“They boiled off the skin. It’s just a skull now.”
“Delightful.” Natalie yawned, long and loud.
The knight smiled at her with kind eyes. “You’re tired. Sleep here tonight. In the morning, we’ll determine our next step.”
“But what about Art? And—and my things? I left my old clothes in Reg’s room at the other inn, and the rest of my stuff is at The Yellow Rose. I just have this.” She tried to brush the dirt from her dress. “I’m really sorry I ruined it. It was exquisite.”
“Not to worry. Dresses can be mended. Reg, tomorrow, gather Natalie’s clothes from The Maggie, and then spread a rumor we’re headed off somewhere.”
“Where?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Buy some extra coils of rope and some warmer clothes. Let everybody assume we’re headed toward the mountains.”
“What about Art, though?” Natalie asked again.
“The last thing you want to do, Nat, is talk to an angry man who’s been drinking all night. There’s plenty of time for you two to make up. Now, get some rest—you look exhausted.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When Natalie awoke, the morning sun was streaming into her room. Outside, birds sang in an overgrown bush by the window. She yawned and stretched. Surprisingly, she felt good—really good. The bruises on her face and her forehead were finally gone, and she was well rested. She noted the dirty dress draped over the back of a chair and remembered how it’d gotten so filthy. Then she remembered her family was dead—all of them: her mother, Robbie, the kids. They were all gone, hacked to death or burned alive.
Burned alive. How incredibly horrific their last moments must have been.
The news seemed so surreal to her. They couldn’t have all been gone. They’d always been there, always been around, if not physically, then in her thoughts. Like a leaf once attached to a tree, Natalie now felt as though she were being tossed about by the fickle wind, tumbling toward wherever it wanted her go. She felt—
No, she didn’t want to think about how she felt.
Artis suddenly came to mind, and thinking about him was nearly as painful as thinking about her family. Did he love her—really and truly love her?
She had to talk to him; they had to come to some sort of understanding. She had to somehow show him that what he wanted was never going to happen—ever. She didn’t want to keep hurting him.
And Artis wasn’t the only one she needed to see. She’d almost forgotten about Hadley and her brother, William. They’d ridden all the way from Upper Angle to find her, and were probably worried sick after she’d run off with a knife in hand. She’d have to find them, as well.
Thinking of Hadley made her heart lighten a bit. Hadley couldn’t focus on anybody else’s problems for too long, and before she knew it, Natalie would be helping Hadley work through her latest boy issues. Then everything would be back to normal.
Deep down, Natalie knew this wasn’t true. Nothing would ever be back to normal again; too many horrible things had happened. But she didn’t want to think about them, either. Not today. Everything, she decided, was going to be better. She’d simply have to keep her mind off of certain events. She had to tend to one issue at a time. And the first was finding Hadley.
Taking her leave of Sir Edris as he ate a breakfast big enough for five people, Natalie first went to a store that sold used clothes. There were a few things that fit her—good, sturdy clothes she could work in—but they were made of coarse linen. They were nothing like the soft silk dress she wore, dirty and torn, though it was.
Thanks to Sir Edris, she had more than enough money, so…why not? She could afford to splurge a little. After all, she didn’t want to be mistaken for some lowly street urchin. And after a new dress or two, she’d still have more than enough money to feed her—
Family?
No. She wouldn’t think about that.
Natalie went across the street to a clothier and purchased two new sets of clothes, then brought her dirty dress to the washing women. On her way back to the Yellow Rose, she stopped by a bakery to buy a hot roll smothered with a melting clot of honey butter. She’d just finished the roll and was licking her fingers when she heard Hadley calling her name.
“Nat!” Hadley ran up to her. “Nat, we’ve been looking everywhere! I thought Brago might’ve killed you!”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I met a couple of friends last night, and they talked me out of doing something stupid.”
Hadley admired the sage green dress Natalie was wearing.
“They also gave me some money to buy a few things,” Natalie explained.
“Can I marry one of them? Seriously, they must really like you if they paid—” Hadley peered sidelong at Natalie. “Wait, you didn’t earn that money or anything, did you?”
“What? Ew! No! They just gave me some coins, and I—”
“What’re their names? How did you meet them? Tell me everything.”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right. I’ll tell you. But don’t go blabbing to everybody, okay?”
“Of course!”
Natalie considered concocting a lie, but nothing had come to mind quickly enough. She might just as well tell her. The gods only knew she’d told Hadley more important things.
“A couple of days ago, I met Sir Edris—”
“You’re kidding!” Hadley squealed. “You actually met—!”
Natalie shushed her, though she didn’t know why. Sir Edris had been going around town telling everybody she was his bastard daughter anyway. Even so, she didn’t like people staring at them as they stood in the middle of the road.
“Okay…okay…” Hadley calmed down slightly, though her eyes still practically popped out of her head in excitement. “You said ‘they.’”
“I met him and his squire, Reg. They’ve been really kind to me. They’re helping me out; they gave me some money and—”
“What’s he like?” Hadley asked in a rush. “Sir Edris. Is he just as gorgeous up close? Don’t leave anything out!”
“Gorgeous…?” Natalie had never thought about how attractive Sir Edris m
ight have been. That struck her as strange. Why hadn’t she noticed? Reg, on the other hand—
“Look,” said Natalie wearily, “I’ll tell you all about him later, okay? I don’t have the time right now. By the way, have you seen Art? I need to apologize to him.”
“Why?” said Hadley. “What did you do this time?”
“Nothing!” Then Natalie conceded, “I acted like a bitch and upset him. I think he and I need to talk about our future. I mean,” she added quickly, seeing Hadley’s hopeful expression, “our lack of a future. Oh, you know what I’m saying. I’m just tired of hurting him every time I open my mouth.”
“Well, let’s hope this time it sinks into his thick head. Men can be such stupid brutes.”
“He’s not stupid, he’s…” Natalie paused, not wanting to say “in love.” “He’s determined. He doesn’t know when to give up. Could you do me a favor and walk around the Merchant’s Quarter to see if you can find him? I’ll look around here.”
“I can’t. I have to head back home. William needs to get to work. We wanted to come here to tell you what had happened.” She caressed Natalie’s hair. “You okay?”
Natalie frowned.
Hadley grimaced. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m just trying to think of other things, like what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”
Hadley laughed. “You’re starting to sound like Art.” She grimaced again. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have brought that up, either.”
Natalie managed a weak smile.
“So, what are you going to do? I mean, with Henry’s stables burnt down, you’re—” Hadley slapped her hand over her mouth, aghast. “Geez! I’m saying everything wrong today. I’m so sorry, Nat. Ignore me.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine…hopefully that’s all behind me now.” Natalie wavered. “How…how is Henry, anyway? He’s not—?”
“Oh, he’s not dead, no.”
“Thank the gods!” Natalie exhaled heavily.
“I mean, he was shaken up, all right, but it could’ve been worse. It was only his stable, and none of the horses were hurt. He’s been asking about you, you know.”
