by Patty Jansen
Walking down the aisle, the first thing Nellie noticed in addition to the scent of burned wood was that little was left of the wood panelling of the pulpit. The pretty dark wood had burnt to ashes, and the flames had made sooty black marks on the pillar behind the pulpit all the way up to the ceiling.
The cupboards and shelves against the back wall—where the Shepherd would put items to be used in the service, carried to the altar by young boys—were also burnt, as well as the carpet, part of the table where the candles and the goblet with wine would stand and indeed part of the altar itself.
The contents of some of those cupboards lay on the ground: thick, leather-bound books with half-burned pages.
In big sooty letters was scrawled across the back wall, The King Will Come.
A young woman with a little girl came to stand next to Nellie. She didn’t know the woman.
“Look,” the mother said. “That’s where the evil creature tried to take the shepherd.”
“Is the evil creature going to come back?” the girl asked.
“No. The shepherd defeated it.”
Nellie turned to the mother. “Excuse me, I’ve been out of town. What happened here?”
“Well, the day before yesterday, we were woken up with this terrible screeching and, when we went to have look, we met a man who said he saw the good shepherd fighting off a flying fire demon. He said the fire demon attacked the shepherd when he came into the church for the morning service and the shepherd fought it off by writing on the wall.”
“What does it say?” the little girl asked.
“It says, ‘The King Will Come’. The king is the Holy Father.”
“And the demon was so afraid that it fled?”
“Yes.”
Nellie nodded her thanks to the woman and walked along the rope barrier.
A big group of people came in, and Nellie jerked her head at Henrik. The two of them made their way back to the vestibule.
“What do you think happened?” Henrik asked her.
“I don’t know, but that woman’s story is rubbish. The shepherd would never scrawl on the walls of his own church. He’s spent all his life trying to be completely normal.”
Henrik agreed. “Scrawling on walls is the sign of a madman. He’s too smart to do that.”
“So what did happen? Any ideas?”
“I think there was a fight,” Henrik said.
“With Bruno?”
He sighed. “I don’t see who else would be involved. I know he never stopped talking about punishing the shepherd for locking him up.”
“The question is: did he win or lose the fight?”
Henrik shook his head. “It’s not looking good. I heard someone say that the flying demon, presumably the dragon, dragged itself out of the church.”
“And where is he now? No mention of a boy?”
He shook his head again.
They had left the church and were standing on top of the church steps. From here, you could see over the market stalls. The palace, with its closed gates, was directly opposite the church entrance.
Nellie had seen the dragon when it had spent all its magical energy, leaking sparks. It could not have gone far.
The King Will Come.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Bruno wrote on the church wall,” she said. “I think he considers himself the king, and a king belongs in the palace. What if he went across from the church to the palace? And the shepherd locked the gates pretending nothing was wrong, because the dragon can’t defeat the fire dog, but the dog can’t win the fight, either.”
Henrik nodded, slowly. “I’d love to know what’s going on behind those gates.”
“I can probably find out. I could pay a visit to the kitchens. If anyone knows any gossip, it’s Dora.”
At first, Henrik would hear none of it. He protested. “I don’t want you to endanger yourself.”
“Then we should have stayed where we were. Of the two of us, you have already admitted that it’s too dangerous for you to go into the palace—”
“But I’ve sworn to protect the boy.”
“What do you think about me, then? I looked after that boy for the first years of his life. He may not remember or appreciate me, but I owe it to his mother’s memory to make sure he is safe.”
Henrik glared at her and she glared back at him and said, “I can get into the palace through the back gate. They still need to eat and people will still work in the kitchens. I have brought my apron.”
“But the people will recognise you.”
“That’s the point. They’re my friends.”
And then she realised that Henrik’s former friends with the guards were no longer his friends, since they were still sworn to protect the palace, even if there was no longer a ruler to protect.
Henrik still didn’t like it, but he saw no other option.
So they went to the palace’s back gate, and found it attended by a young guard Henrik knew, but Nellie didn’t.
“He’s a good kid. I don’t think he’d let me through, but if you put on the apron and tell him you’re coming to work in the kitchens, he’ll let you through. Just don’t stay away too long.”
Nellie took off her coat and shawl and replaced them with the apron and a scarf. It was good that she didn’t have to walk far, because it was cold in this outfit.
Henrik took her coat and shawl and promised to wait for her in a street opposite the palace’s back entrance, out of view of the guard.
Nellie went up to the guard, told him she’d been asked to come and work in the kitchen and he let her through. She proceeded into the back yard, past the noisy pigs. Her heart was hammering and her hands were sweaty.
She climbed up the back steps and opened the door.
“Nellie!”
Dora had been standing at the stove, and when Nellie came in, abandoned her pot and ran to the door. She swept Nellie up in a strong hug that smelled of hearty cooking.
“Where have you been? We heard all kinds of stories about you escaping the city and saving people who were about to be drowned. I could barely believe those stories, but apparently they were true. I said, is this really the quiet Nellie I know?”
“I know it sounds crazy, and I’m not the only one in the group. We have thirty-five people.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Wim is with us,” Nellie said.
“So it’s true? And I heard that you even saved Madame Sabine.”
“Yes, that’s true, although she doesn’t seem to be very happy about it.”
“She doesn’t like living at a farm, right?” Dora laughed.
“I think she would prefer to live in luxury.” It was a very odd conversation, strangely distant. Dora’s world was so different from hers these days.
“Oh no, she wouldn’t dare come back. The guards would have her killed.”
“So who has replaced the Regent?” Nellie hated playing innocent with Dora, but there were many other people in the kitchen who could overhear what she said, so it was best not to put anyone else in danger.
“It’s the most ridiculous thing. We get to serve a boy.”
“His son? But he is only sixteen.”
“Tell me about it. He is the most insolent brat I know. Of course, he makes us do ridiculous things, and he holds the stupid meetings where he screams at the nobles and demands that they do all kinds of things for him and give him whatever he wants, including their daughters.”
“And do they actually do this?”
“They have to. Because he has a lot of guards and they put anyone who doesn’t listen to him in prison.”
“And the guards have no problems with this?”
“The guards are terrified. I don’t quite understand why, but they don’t seem to want to stop him at all.”
Nellie understood well enough.
“Is that what’s going on at the moment? I noticed the gates were closed.”
“Oh, no. I’m not exactly sure what happened, but there
was a fire in the church one night and I’ve been told the shepherd blames Casper or his ill-behaved friends. Apparently they wrote all over the church walls. The shepherd was livid, and Casper told him to get out, and that’s where we’re up to now. The youngsters are all in the ballroom, where apparently Casper holds a court, and the other kids are his councillors. We don’t get to go in. We just have to put the food outside the door and they take it inside.”
“Do they sleep in there?”
“Yes. They’re all together and won’t talk to any of us.”
“Can’t the guards go in?”
“The shepherd says for them to wait.”
“And the shepherd? Is he doing anything else about this? He would be the person people look up to. He should talk to them.” More lies. Nellie hated it.
“The shepherd has been told he’s no longer a court advisor. He comes to the palace sometimes, but he only speaks to the guards. He certainly doesn’t come to dinners like he used to. In fact, most of the banquets have finished. We haven’t had one since you left.”
“That also explains why it’s so quiet here.”
“That, and a lot of people are just too afraid to come here any more. The only ones you’ll see in the kitchen are those who have nowhere else to go.”
“Does Casper get any advice from an adult?”
“Some nobles have tried. But all of them have been insulted and sent away by the brat, like the mayor and church deacons.”
“Did he give reasons?”
“None that he would mention to us. But this is all so depressing that it makes me want to tear my hair out. What about you. How are you coping?”
“We’re fine.”
“Are you coming back to live here at all?”
“It’s too dangerous at the moment.”
“I understand. But life must be hard out there in the country. Do tell me where you are, because I would love to send you a package with goodies, like sweets and dried fruit.”
“We’re fine, truly.”
“And I would like to visit you when I can.” What was it with this insistence that she tell Dora where they were staying?
And all of a sudden Nellie grew cold. When she came here after having fled from the palace with the dragon, she had told Dora where they were, and then the guards had shown up. And Dora did the main part of the cooking for the banquet.
Had Dora told the city guards where they could find the dragon? Was Dora now trying to find out where the women were staying? Had Dora helped the Shepherd spread magic-infused food. Why hadn’t she though of this before?
It grew too hot in the kitchen. She had to get out of here as quickly as possible but without raising any suspicion.
Corrie joined them at the table. Her ankle had healed, but between the cheerful replies, Nellie saw that her face was lined and she looked tired and worried. The other people in the kitchen were not working as hard as before. It was quiet and cold in here.
“What about the two sisters Els and Maartje?” Nellie asked.
Dora said, “I haven’t seen them any more either. Not that it really matters, because we have no more work for them.”
Nellie had what she wanted. She bade Dora goodbye, and left the kitchen again as quickly as she could.
While she was in the kitchen, it had started to get dark outside.
She crossed the muddy yard, where the pigs shuffled in their pen, and went through the lane out the gate. She pulled her scarf as far forward as it would go so that her face was in shadow and scooted past the guard. He wasn’t concerned with people leaving the palace.
She met Henrik in the street opposite the gate. He stood waiting on the corner with his hands in his pocket and his collar drawn up around his neck. His breath steamed in the light of a lantern a bit further down.
He looked up when he heard her footsteps, and his face split into a grin when he recognised her.
“I wasn’t gone that long,” she said.
“No, but things are afoot in the city. I don’t like the thought of you being out there by yourself.”
“I know where I’m going. But yes, I agree, things are not good.” And she told him that Casper and his friends had locked themselves in the ballroom and no one was sure what was going on inside.
“Bruno could still be there,” Henrik said.
“He could be, but I expect Dora would know about it if a strange boy who damaged the church had sheltered in the palace.” Or was Dora lying? It hurt her to think like this. She’d considered Dora a friend.
“It sounds a terrible situation, and the boys must be desperate.”
“Or they could be smart.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know how Adalbert Verdonck showed us the letter Casper had written to him asking for support? Casper obviously watched his father really well. He must have gotten some support, and it could well be that he figured out the shepherd was trying to use him, and now he’s barricaded himself into the ballroom with his friends.”
And then she told him about Dora. “I always thought that Zelda betrayed us, and she always insisted she didn’t. She might be right.”
That didn’t mean Nellie was now going to trust Zelda, because Zelda was not the kind of person she wanted to trust, but maybe Zelda’s herb trade was less dangerous than Nellie had assumed, except to the pockets of the rich.
The thought made her sick, as if everyone used the situation to benefit themselves. “So. We still don’t know for sure where Bruno is. If only we could figure out how to get into the palace while remaining undetected, when the guards are controlled by magic and the shepherd prowls with his fire dog, and the only thing that could possibly defeat the fire dog—the dragon—is either inside, injured or weak.”
“Pretty much,” Henrik said. “But there will be plenty of talk about this. It’s dark now, and we won’t find anything else tonight. Let’s go and find something to eat.”
Chapter 15
* * *
THEY WALKED ON for a little while in silence. Their footsteps echoed in the empty streets.
Nellie expected to be followed, or for someone to spring from the shadows at every corner or porch they passed, but the streets remained quiet.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I said we were getting something to eat.”
“But isn’t your daughter’s house over on the other side of town?”
“We’re not going to her house yet. I’m taking you to a favourite place of mine.”
“Here? In the harbour?” She didn’t think Henrik would visit sailor’s taverns and whorehouses, but she didn’t know of any reputable guesthouses in this area of town.
“Trust me. It’s very respectable.”
A moment later he turned into a narrow alley that went past the back of the houses. It was very dark here, and they had to be careful not to trip over uneven paving.
At the end of the alley, they came to a small courtyard with a couple of doors. Nellie guessed these were the backs doors of shops, through which the people who lived above the shops entered.
Henrik knocked on one of the doors. It opened, revealing a dimly lit room, and a man whom Nellie could see only in silhouette.
“Who is there?” the man said, his voice pleasant.
“I’m an old friend,” Henrik said. “We are weary and cold in the night.”
The man open the door further without another word.
Henrik stepped into the room beyond, and Nellie followed him.
The hall was only lit by a single oil lamp standing on a tall table against the wall.
By its light, she saw that the man who had opened the door wore a uniform in the colours of the city guard.
He said, “We thought you would never return. Some people even said that you were dead, drowned in the harbour.”
“They can’t get rid of me as easy as that,” Henrik said.
“How did you get back? Where are you staying? Somewhere safe, I hope?”
“We’re fine for the night. I was hoping you would be able to help us with a meal.”
“Of course, my dear friend. Are you hungry?”
“Always.”
And then Henrik stepped back and the man looked at Nellie. “Why, it’s our Dragonspeaker.”
Nellie smiled uneasily. The dragon had escaped with Bruno. “I don’t deserve any heroic names. I’m Nellie.” She held out her hand, and he shook it.
“You are welcome Nellie, to the humble abode of the Guard Guild. My name is August, and I work for the city guards.”
“I didn’t know that a Guard Guild existed.”
“Officially, it doesn’t,” August said. “The members who meet here do so at great risk to themselves and their families, and even most guards don’t know about this place. If they did, we’d all be jailed, if not worse.”
“Why?” Guilds were a good idea, because they helped tradespeople. Her father had been a member of several, including the semi-legal Science Guild, and had dealings with several more. They were respected organisations, and some even had their own premises.
“Where would be an easier place to arrange an armed uprising than where armed men get together?”
Nellie frowned at him. “So who made it illegal? Or was it always so?”
He chuckled. “It’s too cold in this hall to get into a detailed history of our organisation. Let’s go somewhere warm.”
He preceded them down a dark corridor, where the floor creaked and their footsteps sounded muffled on greasy carpet underfoot. He opened a door.
In this room it was warm and a number of people, both men and women, sat on easy chairs while a lusty fire burned in the hearth.
The first thing Nellie noticed was a big portrait of King Roald above the hearth. If she was right, this portrait used to hang in the king’s small audience room, which had been divided into two guest rooms since Regent Bernard moved into the palace.
It seemed Nellie had not been the only one to rescue things from the palace stores.
Several of the men rose when Henrik came in and greeted him with cheers and claps on the shoulder. Some of them wore palace guard uniforms, and others were city guards. Nellie wasn’t sure what the few women in the room where doing there. They didn’t look like servants, and they were not noblewomen—at least, she didn’t think so.
