By the time the guards turned back and realized that they didn’t see their charges, the barmaids were twenty feet away and turning a corner to a narrow path between two tents. The guards stared at each other in dismay and wondered what to do.
Meanwhile, Berlina and Felistia zigzagged around and between a number of tents until they reached the nearest gate. They were through, outside, and heading down the roadway by the time an alarm sounded and the gates closed. Closed too late, of course.
“Bee, that was terrific,” said Felistia. “What do we do, now?”
“For the moment, we just keep walking like nothing has happened. About a mile down this road is a tavern. I have made magical contact with the innkeeper and arranged for us to work there for a week or two—however long we need. Nobody will expect us to stop so soon, so close to the palace. They’ll be looking for us miles from here, assuming we will go as far and as fast as possible. By the way, for now, your name is Fezzia, I am Bejanna. Still Fee and Bee, in case we slip.”
Felistia nodded, and the two kept walking, slowly, as if they were tired and had no interest in their surroundings.
Chapter Six
Panic in the Palace
“What do you mean, the princess has disappeared?” the Queen Regent asked in a voice just short of a scream. She was sitting in her drawing room when the Head Guardsman entered and gave her the bad news.
“Your Majesty, the princess and her companion should have been returned to their room an hour before the Faire closed, but they are not there,” said the head guardsman. “The Faire is now closing, people are trying to leave, but several men are posted at the only gate left open. They are checking everyone before permitting anyone to leave. There is a massive jam of people. It may be hours before everyone gets out, but we will be sure the princess and her companion are not among them.”
“Is there any chance they are back in the palace somewhere?”
“Your Majesty, I have men searching. They will check everywhere…except Zatarra’s tower laboratory, of course.”
“Of course. There is no way they could get in there. The sorcerer has it protected by unbreakable spells. How did the girls vanish? What about the three men guarding them?”
“I have them here and will let you talk to them yourself.”
He turned and signaled to a man at the door. The three guards were brought in with chains on their wrists and ankles. They were led to the front of the throne, where they bowed to the Queen Regent—respectfully, albeit clumsily, due to the shackles.
“Which one of you was the leader?” asked the queen.
One of the three took one step forward and said, “I was the leader, Your Majesty.”
“Tell me what happened. Tell me how you failed in your duty, miserable wretch.”
“I will try, Your Majesty, but I don’t understand it myself. We were with the girls, and everything was normal. A fight broke out not far away, creating considerable noise and commotion. We…all three of us…turned to look, to see if it might pose a danger to the princess and if we needed to take action. It was far enough away that there was no threat, and I doubt we were looking at the fight for more than a few seconds. When we turned back, the princess and her friend were gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean gone?”
“They were nowhere in sight, Your Majesty. There were a lot of people around—a lot of girls and women—but neither the princess nor the other were among them.”
“Then…?”
“The three of us started looking. We looked in all the nearby tents, down the aisles, and walkways between them—everywhere we could think of. Your Majesty, I honestly didn’t know what to do, but one of my men suggested we contact the head guardsman for the Faire. He immediately gave orders to close all the gates leading from the courtyard to the outside world. Then, he slapped us in chains for failing in our duty.”
“Well deserved chains, too,” said the queen. “Tell me. How long did you three spend looking for the girls before you contacted the head guardsman and had him close the gates?”
“I…I…I don’t know for sure. Perhaps five minutes, perhaps a little more, Your Majesty.”
“Five minutes, maybe more. Hmmm. I want you to think carefully. The fate of your head may depend on it. From the last place you saw the princess, could someone have gotten to a gate, any gate, and gotten out in those five minutes?”
The guard stood, obviously thinking very hard. Finally, he said, “I believe so, Your Majesty. The person, or persons, would have had to have known their way through the maze of tents. They would had to have known where the closest gate was. They would had to have walked rather fast. Yes, I think it possible.”
“Walked rather fast? Not then, the slow, ladylike walk of a princess?”
“Your Majesty, the princess and her companion seldom walked in a slow, ladylike fashion. In fact, at times, my men and I found ourselves breathing hard—trying to keep up with them as they walked around the Faire.”
“So, you are saying they could have gotten out. Perhaps, had you raised an alarm sooner instead of first taking time to look for them, the gates might have been shut in time to prevent their exit. You three failed in your duty, but it is not clear what you could have done differently.” She turned to the man escorting the prisoners and said, “A month in the dungeon for these three. Feed them adequately but no better than they deserve and no torture. A minimum punishment.”
The guards marched out the three prisoners, their faces reflecting relief they were not being given a worse sentence.
“Now,” Lystia continued, “I want the gates, all the gates, either locked tightly or guarded at all times. If the princess is still in the palace, unlikely as it seems, we need to be sure she doesn’t get out. If she is out and does return, bring her to me immediately. Is that understood?”
The head guardsman bowed and said, “Yes, Your Majesty. It shall be done as you direct.” He turned and went off to set up the arrangements.
The queen sank back into her chair for a few minutes. Then, she turned to the nursemaid standing nearby and said, “I was already tired, and this didn’t help. Come assist me back to my chambers so I can lie down for a nap.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the nursemaid said as she came over to help the queen get out of the chair.
Chapter Seven
The Pink Wyvern
Berlina and Felistia soon arrived at a tavern called “The Pink Wyvern”. The tavern itself was a run-down building with chipped mortar in places. Painted on it were the remains of curses and nasty sayings, which were properly cleaned off. The girls entered, and Berlina held a whispered conversation with the owner—an overweight man with a red face and very little hair who wore a dirty apron. She turned to Felistia and said, “All set. We work here as barmaids for as long as we need to. We stay in room seventeen, upstairs.”
Felistia had been looking around and said, “Are you funning me? This place is a dump, a sty. Look at the customers. Filthy…and I’ll bet most of them are butt-pinchers, if not worse.”
“I know, I know,” said Berlina, “but can you think of a place they’re less likely to look for us? Come on. Let’s go up and check out our room.” She led the way to the stairs and up to the indicated room. Even Berlina flinched a bit when she saw where they would have to sleep for a week or two. The walls had peeling paint of several colors, and there was a single, swayback bed for the two of them. There was no closet—just a clothes rack nailed to the walls in one corner. A chair in another corner looked almost dangerous to sit on.
“Oh, great goblins. Look at the bugs,” squealed Felistia.
“I agree. Yuck. At least that’s something I can fix up.” Berlina let the end of her wand slide out of her sleeve then muttered a spell. All of the bugs crawling around the room stopped moving, slowly crumpled into a fine dust, and disappeared. “There. No more bugs. I imagine I’ll have to do that at least once or twice a day, though. The other rooms are likely as bad, and those bugs will try to i
nvade this room. I can’t kill off the bugs in any other rooms without causing suspicion.”
“Well, Bee. You’re the boss, so I have to go along with you. What do we do now?”
Berlina pointed to a pile of clothes on one of the beds. “We change into real barmaid outfits. That will take some of the strain of concealment off. I’ll only have to glamour our faces, which is much less effort.”
The two stripped off the merchant clothing and donned the barmaid outfits, although Berlina continued to wear the vest-like garment, into which she had sewn the map, and the belt and scabbard for her Black Sword.
“How do I look?” asked Berlina.
“You want the truth? You look like a two-penny whore! I bet I do, too.”
“Good!” said Berlina, laughing. “Perfect disguises…at least for now. Unfortunately, neither the barmaid outfits or the merchant’s daughter dresses will be very good when we leave here and have to tramp through the wilds.”
“Are you doing something about that?”
“Yes, I’ve contacted someone who will get us better clothes and some camping gear. It’ll take a while. My contact has to move slowly and carefully so my mother doesn’t find out what’s going on.”
“Yeah, I guess it would be a problem if she found out. She might track us down.”
“She’s a pain in the neck. I love her dearly, but she is without a doubt a pain in the neck.”
* * * *
After closing at the end of the first day, the barmaids gathered for a drink before going off to bed. “Bee,” said one of them, a girl named Pelka, “how are you holding out? You obviously aren’t used to this.”
“I’ve managed to stay clear of the worst of them,” said Berlina. “I’ve got quick reflexes. A couple of pinches, but I’ll be okay. How about you, Fee?”
“About the same. There are one or two who seem to be really bad. What would happen if we…well, defended ourselves and retaliated against the worst ones?”
“The boss wouldn’t be too happy. He might just fire your ass,” said Pelka. “I imagine if you could make it look like an accident, you might get away with it. Especially if it was those two SOBs, Barcon and Alsipar. I think the boss would be just as happy to see those two go somewhere else.”
They all finished their drinks and went upstairs. As Berlina and Felistia entered their room, Felistia stopped short and said, “The bugs are back.”
“Yes, I expected they would be. The room was empty, so more bugs just migrated in from adjoining rooms.” She slid the tip of her wand out and muttered the spell. Once again, all the bugs collapsed into dust and disappeared. “There. That’s another batch gone. If we stay here long enough, I may get all the bugs in the entire inn. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
For the next several days, the two girls worked alongside the other barmaids, serving meals and drinks, and trying to avoid the worst of the customers. Squeals from the serving girls as customers pinched a butt or grabbed a tit were common.
A few days later, Felistia found herself assigned to the table where Barcon and Alsipar were sitting. She served their drinks and meals, while trying hard to avoid their roving hands. Finally, Barcon got his chance, grabbed Felistia’s left breast, and gave it a squeeze. She gasped, his grip was so painful. Suddenly, Barcon screamed and pulled his hand, bleeding profusely, away from her. “Damn bitch,” he yelled. “She stabbed me.”
Felistia held up her hands and said, “I did not. Look, I don’t have a knife or anything else with which to stab him. I couldn’t have done it!”
The boss rushed over and looked at the situation. “Fee, I have to pat you down to see if you do or don’t have a knife.” He ran his hands down her. Her expression clearly showed that she wasn’t much happier about the boss’s hands than the customer’s, but she stood and put up with it. Finally, the boss said, “You’re clean. I don’t know what happened, but you couldn’t have cut his hand like that.” He turned to the table where Alsipar was trying to bandage Barcon’s hand with a couple of dirty rags. “You two get out. I’m giving you a two week ban. After that, if you can learn to behave, you can come back.”
The two men rose and left, both of them cursing loudly, but it was obvious they were used to this sort of thing.
“The show’s over. All you barmaids get back to work. One free round of Slossian wine for the customers,” said the boss, before he went back to his office.
After things settled down, Berlina turned to Felistia and whispered, “What happened?”
“He grabbed my boob, it hurt, and I got mad. Did you ever think about how dangerous one claw could be and how unlikely it is that anyone would notice if that’s all I shifted?”
“Oh. I didn’t know you could do that. He deserved it, he certainly did. Just don’t do it again. If it happened twice, they might be able to figure it out.”
They went back to work. Berlina was still dodging roving hands, but the customers Felistia was serving kept to their best behavior for the rest of that day.
Several more days passed. Berlina was finding that her sword tended to get in the way, so she stopped wearing it while on duty. Once in a while, a single trooper in the Drailsen colors would drop in for a drink. They never paid, and after they left, the bartender would curse a little, but nothing untoward happened.
Then, in the middle of one afternoon, the door burst open, and a large gang of men in the maroon and orange garb of Prince Drailsen’s warriors entered. Their leader stopped once they were in and started to look around, instead of heading for the bar as real customers would.
“Uh, oh. We have trouble,” said Berlina. “See that ring he’s wearing? That’s the ring of Dis-Covery missing from Zatarra’s collection. Any moment, he’s going to see through my glamour and spot us.”
“What do we do?”
“First, we try to stay behind the other barmaids, so he can’t get a clean line on us. After that, well, it kind of depends, but I wouldn’t rule out a fight. Damn it, I’ve been leaving my sword upstairs. It sometimes gets in the way as I’m waiting on tables, so I don’t have it with me. Bad move on my part.”
“Is there any way you can get the ring away from him?”
“Not easily. I told you that a bad ring wouldn’t come off. It would just stick on and keep harming the wearer. Well, the good rings do something similar. They stick on unless the wearer wills them to come off.” Berlina paused, and her face lit up. “I have it,” she said. “I think this is a job for you, Fee. Transform as much as you have to. Then, bite off the finger that has the ring. If you happened to bite off several fingers or even the whole hand, that would be just too bad, wouldn’t it?”
The leader of the warriors had been pointing the ring around the room. Suddenly, he stopped. A couple of the barmaids moved aside without Berlina noticing, and the leader now had a clear line of sight at her. He shouted, “It’s her! It’s her! I knew she’d try something tricky, staying so close to the palace instead of—” His voice broke off into a scream as a large, snow white wildcat jumped out from behind the crowd of girls and clamped its jaws on his hand.
The cat’s fangs ripped off several fingers, including the one with the ring, and the bloody digits dropped to the floor. Felistia quickly ran back behind the crowd of barmaids, where she could change back into human form without being seen. Berlina leaped forward, scooped up the ring, and concealed it in her clothes.
It was too late, though. The other warriors now knew who their quarry was. They surged forward and grabbed the two girls. The leader still clutched his savaged hand and uttered cries of pain, but his second-in-command took over.
The second-in-command grabbed the barkeep roughly, pointed a knife at him, and asked, “Where are they staying? What room?”
“Room seventeen, upstairs,” the barkeep said with a quiver in his voice.
“What about that wildcat? Where do you keep it? I’ve a good mind to kill it for what it did to our commander.”
“Please, sir. I know nothing of the wildcat.
I’ve never seen it before,” whimpered the barkeep.
The second-in-command threw the barkeep to the floor. “I’ll give odds you’re a filthy liar, but I don’t have time to worry about it right now. I have to get these girls to Drailsen’s castle.” He turned to his men and said, “I want two of you men to go upstairs and search their room…room seventeen. Look around the other rooms, in case this monkey turd is lying to us.” The two men went up the stairs, returning after a short time.
“What did you find?” asked the second-in-command.
“Not a lot,” said one of the men. “In room seventeen, there was clothing, a pouch of gold, a book, and the most horrible excuse for a sword I have ever seen. I’m not even sure it is a real sword. It may be just a rusty hilt welded to the top of a scabbard. The rest of the rooms were pretty much empty. Just a little clothing—rags, for the most part.” He laughed. “Doesn’t look like he pays his help real well, does it?”
“Well, bring the stuff along, I’ll let somebody much higher up decide what to do about it.” He waved his arm at the exit. The warriors headed back out the door and got on their horses, throwing the girls across the saddlebows of two of the mounts and stuffing their possessions into a saddlebag. As soon as they all mounted—except for the injured commander and one man who stayed to help him—the troops galloped off.
It seemed like they rode for hours, with Berlina and Felistia in very uncomfortable positions. Eventually, they came to a small castle with maroon and orange pennons—Drailsen’s colors—flying from the turrets. Without a word and obviously following previously given orders, the warriors took the girls down into the dungeon. They did a quick, perfunctory search of their prisoners, finding and taking the little bit of gold they had on their persons, but they didn’t seem to notice things like Berlina’s wand and magical tools.
One of the warriors had the things the men took from the girls’ room, including Berlina’s sword. He held it up in the air, waved it around, and said sarcastically, “Look at this marvelous sword, men. I think the rust is more dangerous than the blade.” He tried, without success, to pull the sword from its sheath. “What a piece of junk. You can’t even get to the blade. It’s rusted into the scabbard.” He added the sword to the gold and other items he and the others had taken before walking off. The remaining warriors tossed the two girls unceremoniously into a cell—a small room with bare, rock walls. It was furnished with two beat-up cots—one on either side. With a grating of heavy, iron bars, the guards locked the cell door, and left.
Berlina's Quest Page 5
