“Oh, go eat dragon dung, Brock,” said Atana’s voice in response. “If Princess Taraniz’s soldiers wanted to kill Valin, they’d just storm the manor and do it by force.”
“She knows there’s a lot of people who…are…” the boy named Brock lowered his voice so Dimitri could barely hear him, “Yeh know — against what she wants to do. Maybe she’s tryin’ to be more subtle now.”
“And maybe you’re just a coward, Brodrick Garrison.”
“He has a point,” said Dimitri dropping down from the hay loft in front of the two. They started, and Atana made a small squeak of surprise, but they did not run. “I very well could be working for those soldiers.” He leaned toward them, his eyes widening. “But, I will tell you a secret. It is not your Lord Valin or Valar that Princess Taraniz wants. If you can get me to see your lord, I will tell you who she is truly after.”
Atana and Brock looked at each other wide eyed. They couldn’t have been much older than Jayson, Jack and Leo. Dimitri had indeed found a fool to help him get to Valin, but it wasn’t the fool he had expected. Brock turned to Dimitri, his chin pushed out and his eyes narrowed. He looked Dimitri up and down. He folded his arms and sighed.
“Alright,” he said, “I’ll help yeh see Lord Valin. But!” The boy held his finger up to Dimitri’s face, and Dimitri bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a laugh, “If yeh try anything funny, you’ll regret it.”
Dimitri nodded, and bowed in the proper elven fashion to Brock. The boy took a step back and looked at Atana surprised. Finally, he returned the gesture rather clumsily, and forced Dimitri to hide his amusement in the form of a sneeze into the sleeve of his cloak.
Atana smiled. “Well, then. I should get back to work.” She kissed Brock on the cheek and bustled off, skirts flying as she rushed through the side door and back inside the inn.
Dimitri and Brock stood facing each other awkwardly for a few silent moments. Brock swung his arms at his sides and kicked at the dirt floor with his toe.
Dimitri finally said, “Chamberlain Herodan would like to keep his matters with Lord Valin quiet. How do you propose getting past the soldiers?”
Brock stood still, staring at the ground then looked up at Dimitri, with a smug smile.
Brodrick Garrison was the son of a local vintner in Cannondole and volunteered for various other merchants and peoples in the city to make his coin. He helped with the horses at The Glass Lantern and even delivered medicines for Lady Delia’s apothecary on occasion. Brock also helped the Sisters at the chantry. Mostly he dusted down the libraries and cleaned the dishes, but sometimes the Sisters asked him to take messages to the other Sisters living in the Chantry apartments. There were twelve Sisters living in the small apartments connected to the chapel, and the place was nearly as large as the Lord of Cannondole’s estate manor.
Dimitri followed Brock along the road to the chantry. A few soldiers on patrol passed by but took no notice of them. Dimitri exhaled in relief, and Brock dared a side glance at him.
“Look,” said Brock, and he stopped in the middle of the path leading to the chantry that loomed behind them. “I’m only doin’ this because Atana asked me to. How do I really know you’re not gunna, well, I don’t know, say, kill Lord Valin or something? I don’t want any trouble… but, I want to help.”
Dimitri lowered his hood and put a hand on Brock’s shoulder. “Your concern and bravery are commendable, Brock. May I tell you a secret? The real reason I am here to see Lord Valin?”
Brock’s eyes widened. He nervously looked over his shoulders for any passersby then nodded.
“I am part of a plan to help bring peace back to Chartile, and your Lord Valin is a very important piece in my mission. You want to see these soldiers go away, and not worry about people being killed?” Brock nodded. “Get me to Lord Valin.”
The boy narrowed his gaze and nodded determinedly. He puffed out his chest and trudged up the path to the Chantry. Dimitri smiled at him as he followed, and gave a sigh of relief again. Telling this complete stranger about their plans was risky. Very, very risky. Brock could go to the elven soldiers at any moment, and they would all be done for. But Dimitri had a sense about people and when to trust them. It was why Nefiri had entrusted him as her retainer and liaison, even at such a young age. His stomach gave a flop as he thought of his mother. He knew he would have to make amends with her when this was all over.
As they approached the main doors to the chapel, Brock took a small path to the left, and waved to one of the Sisters working in the gardens alongside the building.
“Greetings, Sister Theodora,” Brock said.
The woman looked up from her work, brushing a tuft of gray hair from her eyes. Her apron was full of small squashes and a few of the yellow peppers.
“Hello, Brock,” she said squinting against the glare of the late morning sun.
Dimitri expected an inquiry to the boy’s presence or who his companion was that the woman had surely never seen before. But Sister Theodora bent her head and began plucking up the squashes again.
There was a small door further back along the side of the building. Brock opened it as though he had travelled this route a hundred times. Dimitri reminded himself he probably had. They emerged into a bustling kitchen where several woman, most of them elderly, were finishing drying dishes at a large tub in the corner beside a drain trough.
“Brock!” called one of the younger woman, looking up from the tub. “You’ve missed the breakfast washing, dear. Who is your friend?”
“This is George. George Potts,” Brock answered without hesitation. “He works for one of the merchants from Castielle. Says his master wants him to look in the library for something.” Dimitri smiled at the women, and gave a small bow in the elven fashion.
“Sister Marta is in the library if you need any assistance,” said another woman, and she dumped a tub of water down the drain with as much strength as any farmer or blacksmith. Dimitri marveled at the women as they hurriedly flitted around the kitchen carrying large pots full of water, or large baskets full of produce hooked on each arm. He had no idea the woman of the Elven faith were such hard workers. It rivaled some of the Dwarvik men he knew.
“My thanks, dear ladies,” he finally said, and nearly ran into Brock as he hurried him along behind the boy. “Excellent thinking, Brock,” Dimitri said when they had entered a deserted back hallway.
“I’m smarter than I look, Georgie,” he said. Dimitri smiled at him and ruffled his hair.
“Good to know. We need allies like you right now.”
“Yeh do?” asked the boy.
“Oh, yes,” replied Dimitri, though he kept his voice low and his eyes sharp. “Taraniz has allies and spies everywhere, even if most of the elves do not agree with her. She is still the Princess, and soon to be Queen, I am sure.”
Brock finally stopped before a skinny door with a rusty handle. He opened it and gestured for Dimitri to follow him inside. Dimitri hesitated, but the boy had been trustworthy so far. He closed the door behind him, and waited for his eyes to adjust to what little light came from around the edges of the door. He could hear Brock feeling along the walls and tripping over what appeared to be buckets and brooms.
“I heard the Sisters talking about a passage to the Lord’s estate a few months ago, when some of the other towns were being attack – I mean, when people were being executed for their crimes. I got bored one day and decided to look for it. I nearly gave up when I accidentally found it. Ah, here it is!”
He pulled aside a wooden panel along the back of the closet. It swung toward them as if on a hinge. Brock stepped in and lit the lantern that hung from a nail along a narrow, drippy passage.
“It comes out in one of the bedrooms. One of the Lord’s bedrooms, not here,” said Brock. “I know. I followed it.” He handed the lantern to Dimitri. Dimitri held the tiny lantern up to inspect the passage. It was made of packed earth and crumbling stone walls. It was clearly not Dwarvik made, and he had to hunch nearly d
ouble to fit.
“Can I do anythin’ else? You know, to help? I just want everyone to be alright again and all. I’ll do whatever you need.” Brock shrugged and looked from Dimitri to the floor and back again.
Dimitri turned and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder again. “You have already done a great service, Brock. Not only to your Lord Valin, but to all of Chartile. What I need is for you not keep silent. You mustn’t tell a soul about this. Not even Atana. If all goes well, in a few days, you will hear the good news of our success. I am sure Queen Piper will make you a soldier one day if you so wished it.” He ruffled the boy’s hair again, then headed into the passage.
“Who’s Queen Piper?” Brock whispered excitedly.
Dimitri stopped and closed his eyes. He had spoken too much, but what was done was done. Words could not be taken back once given voice. He sighed loudly.
“She is Princess Taraniz’s sister. Piper is going to make everything right again. But, you mustn’t tell anyone, Brock. If Princess Taraniz finds out, she will kill Piper.”
Brock’s eyes widened and he nodded his head vigorously. “I won’t tell anyone. Not ever!”
“Good. Good bye, Brock. And thank you,” said Dimitri, and he turned once again up the passage.
There were no other torches or lamps of any kind save the one Brock had handed him when he first entered the passage. It was difficult to see, even by the lamp light for Dimitri had to crouch so low, but the crumbling stone walls looked to be hundreds of years old. He was more positive than ever these were not Dwarvik made. Still, they must have been sturdy enough to have withstood all this time. He hoped anyway. It wouldn’t do anyone much good if the tunnel suddenly decided to collapse on him.
No sooner had the thought entered his mind than Dimitri found the tunnel sloping upward. Dimitri crouched even lower, nearly on his hands and knees. The passage ended at a winding stone staircase, and he could finally stand straight again. He took a deep breath and tiptoed quietly up the stair. He assumed he was now inside Lord Valin’s estate, and Brock had suggested, and was heading to an upper level.
The staircase concluded at a small six foot room. A plain wooden wall with an ornately carved stone lamb in its center barred his way. Dimitri brushed the string of dusty cobwebs from the lamb. He knew this must be the way to enter the manor, and if Brock could figure it out, so could he.
Dimitri hung his lantern on a nail beside a dusty, unlit torch and set to work. It took him far longer to figure out the lock than he anticipated. Each of the legs had to be turned in a particular pattern so the lamb appeared to be running. When the pattern was correct, there was a soft click and a plume of dirt and dust erupted in Dimitri’s face. He fanned it away, and, cautiously, pushed the swiveling wall open.
Light poured in and nearly blinded him. He blinked and found himself in a simple, yet cozy bedroom. He stepped out from behind a fireplace so large he could nearly stand up in. There was a luxurious four poster bed beside a large window to his right, and a small sitting room just beyond. He took a few careful steps forward, and heard the hidden door snap shut behind him, and the stone legs of the lamb slide back into place. A feather duster sat atop the mantle, and he brushed the dirt from his shoes and the floor.
He entered the sitting room, and found no one. He heard voices in the distance, and followed through the private wash room to a small library.
One man sat behind a red oak desk, bent over several books and documents. Another, older man stood over him, also bent and pointing at the book in front of them.
“These pages were removed some time ago. It could not have been Taraniz,” said the older man.
“We have no way of knowing if it was Kaytah who did so,” said the younger man. “I believe this is wishful thinking, Father. If Taraniz had these documents, she would have destroyed them by now.”
“Then we must find different evidence, shall we?” Dimitri walked into the room and lowered his hood.
The younger man at the desk stood up quickly, and the chair he sat in fell to the floor with a loud crash. He reached for the hilt of his sword at his hip, but the older man set a hand on his son’s arm, smiling at the would-be intruder.
“Dimitri!” Valar smiled. The young man beside him let go of his sword, and looked suspiciously from this father to the mysterious young man standing before him. “Where are the others?” Valar asked, worried.
“They are hiding in the forest. We saw the soldiers and did not think it wise to attempt entry without finding you first. I came alone. We need to move quickly. I told them to head back to the mountain if I did not return by nightfall.” The sun was already high in the sky, and judging by the shadows, was just approaching midday.
“How did you get in here?” Valin asked, his brow still furrowed.
Dimitri smiled. “A young boy named Brodrick Garrison. He is very loyal to you, if a little naïve. He was lucky I was not a spy for Taraniz.”
Valin seemed to relax at the mention of Brock and nodded. “Yes, Brock is a good boy.” He righted his chair, and sat down heavily, pulling a flask from inside a desk drawer. He threw back a mouthful and asked, “So, how do we get the rest of you here?”
Chapter Nineteen
Lord Valin of Cannondole
The sky had begun to turn a many colored array of grays and pinks. Jack leaned against the tree trunk behind him, sprawled out on a large limb looking up at the sky. Jayson gave Leo a gentle kick from below as he had begun to snore, and Piper dozed beside him.
There had been a joyous ruckus from the town some time ago that had not yet ceased. But that was not Jack’s concern. Dimitri had left them in the early hours of the morning. He told them to leave if he had not returned by nightfall, and night was fast approaching. Dimitri should have known his friends would never leave him, and they had discussed several strategies for stealing into the town if he did not return by dark. As the darkness slowly fell, Jack’s nerves were more on edge than they had been in a long time. If there were ever a time they could be caught, this was it.
A thick clump of bushes some thirty yards away moved. It was too much to be any kind of rabbit or fox. Jack snapped his fingers three times, and Jayson looked up at him. Jack pointed, and began climbing down toward Piper and Leo as Jayson stood to guard.
Jack shook the two awake, pressing his finger to his lips. They nodded and scrambled up the tree. Jayson saw his friends climb to safety and quickly joined them as the rustling came closer.
They had only just settled into the boughs of the tree when a figure broke from the brush. He carried no torch and wore a thin, tattered traveling cloak. He stopped and surveyed the clearing, studying the ground and underbrush surrounding the area. His hood fell away from his face, and they breathed a sigh of relief.
“Dimitri!” Piper called, and she nearly fell out of the tree in her haste to climb down. She leapt into his arms, and Dimitri stumbled back. “We were beginning to worry,” she said and kissed him. Dimitri was not wearing his usual clothes. He looked washed, and his hair brushed.
“I found Valin and Valar by midday, but returning to you was not as simple,” he explained. “We were lucky, however. Earlier today, one of the soldiers received word his wife had given birth. Valin ordered a celebration. The bakery presented a large cake an hour ago, and Valin distributed the wine from his personal stores.”
“I hope it’s not twins,” Jayson mumbled, but no one laughed.
“The distraction should be enough to get you in without being noticed, though we must hurry. The Sisters are waiting for us.”
“Sisters?” Jack asked.
“There is a secret passage that runs from the chantry to Valin’s manor. The Sisters are loyal to him and Valar, and whatever cause they have to usurp Taraniz. Come.” Dimitri took off into the growing dusk, and Piper followed close behind.
Jack, Leo and Jayson exchanged worried looks, then took off after them, praying to whatever deities that may or may not rule over Chartile that their way would be
uneventful.
They reached the edge of the forest and crawled on their bellies across the open fields to the rear of the chantry. Sister Theodora met them and led them to the passage. The boys were beginning to grow more uneasy when the wall with the stone lamb swung open before them and there was a real bed before them.
Valar stood near the sitting room area and ushered them in, beaming.
“It is so good to see you all safe again,” he said and embraced Piper, though she struggled against his grip.
“Where is Valin?” Piper asked warily.
“He attended the celebrations so as not to appear untrustworthy,” replied Valar.
Piper nodded and looked behind her as the door to the secret passage clicked closed.
“Come. We have made sleeping arrangements for you all. You can wash up, and we have fresh clothes for you as well.” Valar led them out of the sitting area and down a long hallway. There was a room with one bed and three soft looking mattresses on the floor that smelled of charcoal and frankincense. Leo suspected they had come from the Sisters in the chantry. He felt guilty realizing the poor women had likely given up their beds for the comfort of the prophesized reincarnated kings. His stomach lurched slightly.
“The gentleman will sleep here. Piper, Valin has insisted on giving you his quarters. Not to worry,” Valar added seeing the apprehension on both Piper and Dimitri’s faces. “He will be staying with me in my quarters. Now, I know this has been a long journey for you all. Please rest for tonight, and we will discuss plans in the morning.” Valar bustled off down the hall and disappeared down a flight of stairs.
The party stood silently facing each other until Jayson spoke. “Look, I’m not going to say no to something that isn’t the ground.”
“And warm water sounds amazing,” added Jack. The three boys entered the small bedroom and headed straight for the wash room.
Dimitri turned to Piper and kissed her on the cheek. “I will look after them,” he said. “Get some rest.”
Chartile: Prophecy Page 22
