by Patty Jansen
“Come.” He held out his hand.
Nellie grabbed it and pulled herself next to him.
He flicked the reins and the horse walked out of the yard.
Master Thiele stood at the gate, holding up a hand as the cart went past.
“Isn’t he coming?” Nellie asked.
“He’ll organise his people for when we come back. They’ll take the other cart to another location.”
Nellie wondered again what was in the heavy wooden box. Weapons, she guessed. She wondered if Master Thiele realised he had accidentally put it on the wrong cart.
And so the cart and two horses traversed the streets in pitch darkness, leaving behind the burning building.
Most guild members had fled the scene, but other people were arriving to have a look. Shouts of “Fire!” rang through the streets.
Henrik said, “There are elements in the city and palace guards who really don’t like Master Thiele. He rarely goes out during the day, and even at night he usually goes with others. If his enemies can’t challenge him directly, they pay street urchins to sneak in and cause damage.”
“But what if I hadn’t woken up in time?”
“Believe me, that has happened before. Master Thiele has badly scarred skin on his arm from a fire. He was the only one who made it out of the house alive. The guild lost all their records in that fire. Ever since, he makes sure that everyone only brings into the guild headquarters what they can carry.”
“Do you know who orders these fires?”
“It could be anyone, from corrupt officials to a man wanting to hide a dark past in order to purchase a business licence, all the way up to major officials who know that secret guild members have information they don’t want revealed.”
“It’s amazing what some people will do to hide the truth.”
“That’s because the truth shows them in a bad light. The uglier the truth, the more desperate the measures to hide it.”
Chapter 20
* * *
THE MORNING WAS MISTY, and it didn’t get properly light until after the cart had left the city.
They travelled through the dreary countryside, avoiding the muddy puddles in the road. A few farmers headed into the city, but otherwise it was quiet.
The horse plodded along, droplets of moisture lacing its back.
Neither of them spoke very much, and Henrik kept checking over his shoulder. What for, he didn’t say. Not until they were well out of the city, and had passed the levee bank of the river, did he begin to relax.
They were riding through fields of orchards with bare branches. “Most of this land is Adalbert Verdonck’s,” Henrik said. “It’s the main food supply of the city, because this side of the river is higher than the other and there is no contamination by salt water. It’s important land that Saardam needs to control or the people will starve.”
“We won’t get anywhere without his support.”
“No.” Henrik shook his head. “Fortunately, he doesn’t think much of the Regent and his family, or the shepherd.”
“Is that why he’ll never be king?”
“There are other reasons. I’ll show you when we get a bit further.”
“Now you’ve made me curious.”
When they came to the rolling meadows—now all brown—surrounding the Verdonck house, Henrik turned into a side road leading to a little grove surrounded by pine trees. Because pine trees remained green in winter, the row made a shelter against the wind.
Henrik let the horses rest for a bit and led Nellie into the grove.
The meadow surrounded by the trees was well-tended, with neatly-clipped bushes and clean paths surrounding a stone basin containing water and a statue of an angel looking at the sky. In the grass stood a number of moss-covered gravestones.
Henrik led her along a gravel path.
The first grave was new, the stone as yet untouched by the weather. The inscription said, Ronald Adalbert Verdonck. He hoped when there was no hope and fell when he spoke the truth.
Nellie stopped briefly, pushing her shawl down, and said a brief prayer, unsure if that was appropriate for someone who had found so much fault with the church.
But, she reminded herself, Lord Verdonck had been a fair person, and had no beef with the divine, just with the power-hungry shepherd.
Henrik waited a bit further down the path.
Nellie joined him at a spot where eight older gravestones stood, all quite close together and all with small headstones.
The inscriptions on the stone were simple, and all were for children, ranging in age from one day to six months, who had died over a period of about ten years, the latest three years ago.
She met Henrik’s eyes and frowned.
“The Verdonck curse,” he said, his voice low. “This is why the family is unsuited to the throne. Adalbert is the last child in the family to have been born healthy. They needed an heir to the estate, so they married him at seventeen. His first wife gave him a son who lived five days, before dying of illness herself not much later. His second wife gave him two children; neither lived to their first year. She then had a third child but it was clear the child wasn’t his, so she fled. His third wife gave him five children who all died soon after birth, before she threw herself off the tower. He loved her and he was heartbroken. When you come to the house today, you’ll see there is no tower. That’s because Adalbert had it torn down.”
“What a sad story.” She remembered that Madame Sabine had just told her that Adalbert’s wife couldn’t give him children so he was looking for a new one. She also remembered thinking that she was glad she wasn’t a noble because of the anguish caused by the issue of having a suitable heir. Did Madame Sabine know about this? On second thoughts, had Madame Sabine tried to worm herself into the Verdonck family tree by offering to give Ronald Verdonck another child, seeing as the family line looked like it would stop with Adalbert? All of a sudden she saw Adalbert Verdonck’s dislike of her in another light.
Henrik nodded.
“What is Adalbert going to do?”
Henrik shrugged. “All I know is that the family was considered for the throne. This is why they were not suitable, and since that time, they’ve distanced themselves from the church and have missed their opportunity.”
“Unless Adalbert takes it by force.”
“Well, that’s always a possibility.”
And if that happened, many of the city’s nobles would object, and there would be struggles; and when the city was divided, Burovia or Aroden or Gelre would make a move.
Nellie clamped her arms around herself. “It frightens me. Sometimes I don’t even know what’s good or bad anymore.”
“That comes with being older,” he said, taking her hand. “You see that good can be bad and bad can be good, and sometimes good can be so good that it becomes bad, and bad can be so bad that it becomes good.”
Nellie chuckled. “Now you’re making no sense.”
“It makes sense,” he said. “You’ll see when you’re a few years older.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“Then let’s go and prepare for our highly sensible circus parade so that we can put a fourteen-year-old boy on the throne, or at least stop him from getting himself killed or using his dragon to kill others.”
They both laughed, but the sound fell flat.
They would enter the city disguised as a circus. They would hand out sweets that they hoped would counter the effects of the shepherd’s magic so that the people would, somehow, see how the church forced people to leave and was taking over the city. And they would magically have the courage to stand up against their fellow citizens, with magic being forced out of the city, and would put a boy with foreign blood on the throne.
Yeah, it was a strange plan.
It was the only plan they had.
They continued on their way. The mist had grown thinner, but now it started snowing, even if the snowflakes melted as soon as they hit the ground.
Henrik remarked that the only good thing about the snow was that fewer people would take notice of them.
They turned into the estate’s main drive. Someone was at home in the main house. Smoke curled from the chimneys and the smell of burning wood hung over the fields.
When they passed the house, the sound of an axe hitting wood echoed over the empty fields. Wim was outside the barn, chopping wood. Two children were gathering the pieces and taking them inside.
“There they are!” Mina yelled.
Nellie slid from the cart and hugged her friend.
“Did you find Bruno?”
“We know where he is. We have to go back to get him. I’ll tell you all about it when we’re with the others.”
“We were so worried about you.”
“We weren’t gone that long.”
“No, but yesterday afternoon those men turned up.” She glanced at a spot over Nellie’s shoulder.
Nellie turned around. The far part of the horse paddock outside the barn had changed into a camp of at least ten tents. A couple of horses nosed around in a pile of hay. Smoke rose from a fire in the middle of the camp.
“They’re mercenaries,” Wim said, joining them with the axe on his shoulder. “Those are retired war horses. We think Adalbert Verdonck has hired them to take the city.”
“Have you seen him around at all?” Henrik asked.
“Only at a distance,” Wim said.
“Is Madame Sabine still here?” Nellie asked.
“As far as I know, yes,” Mina said. “She moved to the other shed, because I suggested that she might want to help us do the cooking. Agatha seems to like her, though.”
It was warm and comfortable inside the barn. In the camp kitchen, Agatha was stirring a pot from which wonderful smells spread through the air. “You’re just in time for soup,” she said, without commenting on Nellie’s return or asking how she was.
When everyone squished together, the fruit-pickers’ kitchen was just big enough to hold the entire group.
“Where is Boots?” a little voice next to her asked.
Anneke had wriggled herself in between Nellie and Mina.
“He’s still with Bruno,” Nellie said.
“I don’t understand why Bruno didn’t come back with you.”
“We couldn’t take him. We need to rescue him.”
“Can I help, please?”
“We’ll see.” But Nellie had no intention of taking children on the parade. That would be too dangerous.
When everyone finished eating and the bowls were collected, Nellie and Henrik got to tell their story. Nellie had to explain her plan.
In case some people didn’t quite understand what was going on, she explained from the beginning: The citizens of Saardam were controlled through the food they ate; the Shepherd controlled the food supply and was a good magician; and remedies could be taken against magic. They were going to give those remedies to the people in the city, so they would see the misdeeds against the crown prince, and would not believe the lies of the shepherd when he denied wrongdoing.
Also, because Casper and Bruno were both in the palace and the shepherd had closed the gates, they needed to be creative to get in.
Agatha’s reaction was disbelieving. “So then what are we going to do? Rock up to the palace and simply invite ourselves to dinner?”
“We are going to do exactly that. We are going to invite ourselves to a grand welcome in the palace, and we’re going to bring our own food. The shepherd won’t be able to do anything without outing himself as being just as bad as the Fire Wizard, and risking the anger of the surrounding countries. Lord Verdonck has told me that Burovia and Estland are concerned about what is happening, but because no one gets out across the borders, they have no news, and so they mind their own problems. Everything the shepherd has done so far is to disguise his grab for power—putting the Regent in the palace, and letting the Regent make the declarations that magic is not allowed. But they are all the shepherd’s decisions. Casper, for all his foolishness, does not want to listen to the shepherd. I think the shepherd allowed Casper to behave as he wants because he hopes that one of the nobles will get so frustrated with the boy that he’ll kill him. And when that happens, then the shepherd has a reason to step up and seize control of the city, and all the citizens will be happy that the shepherd saved them from this horrible mess, and then the shepherd will have total control of Saardam, like the Fire Wizard did. That is what we don’t want to happen. But we need support from the people in the city, and we can’t get that as long as they are still influenced by the food they eat.”
Agatha said, “And you want to have a feast to stop this?”
“Yes, because that’s what people do at a feast: they eat. It’s our best chance. We must get the entire city looking at the palace for the magnificent parade, and enjoying the sweets we’re going to give them. We’re all going to disguise ourselves as part of the royal party.”
Mina said, “But I am no royal. And I have no royal clothes.”
“The clothes are all in the cart,” Nellie said. “Everything we need, I got while I was there. I used to work for Queen Johanna, so I know what’s involved in dressing people up.”
They all wanted to have a look, and Nellie showed them the chests with the dresses. They marvelled over the frills and the extravagant hats.
“Do people really wear this?” Koby asked.
“They do, to banquets and balls,” Nellie said.
“I really like this dress. Come on, Gisele, have a look at these dresses.”
“I’d rather be a monk.”
But Nellie had considered Gisele. “You don’t seem the type to wear dresses, so I brought you this.” She held up a dark-green velvet men’s suit. “You just need to cut your hair a bit and you can make a fine young man.”
Gisele grinned.
“Oh, look, there’s a box we haven’t opened,” Koby said, pointing at Master Thiele’s wooden box.
“That one needs a key to open,” Hilde said, holding a pink dress over her arm.
“There are no clothes in this one.” Henrik picked up the box and put it aside.
Nellie wondered what was in it. She could ask later. First there were things to do.
Apart from the outrageous dresses, Nellie had brought one that was a bit more civilised for herself. It was dark red, quite modest and, most importantly, suitable for winter.
She dressed herself, made an attempt to do her hair, and went up to the house.
She found Adalbert Verdonck in his study, where he sat at his big wooden desk, writing with a feather pen on piece of paper.
When the servant knocked on the open door to announce he had a visitor, he looked up.
“Come in.” He pushed aside a piece of paper Nellie recognised: the letter from Casper. Was he replying to it? Was he still considering what to do?
Nellie went into the room and sat on one of the richly covered chairs.
He looked her over from top to bottom. “It seems I was mistaken. I thought you were a maid.”
“I have been everything in my life. Once, longer ago than you may remember, I was a member of the court of Queen Johanna. I’m not of noble descent, but my family are honourable people. Cornelius Dreessen was my father.”
His eyes widened briefly.
“You knew my father?”
“Everyone in the Science Guild does.”
“Are you a member?”
“My father was. I am, too, but I haven’t attended any meetings for a long time. There have been some . . . differences in opinion. I need not bore you with the details. Why have you come?”
“I have a plan, and was hoping you would be able to help.”
“And what sort of assistance? I presume you want money?”
That was something only a noble would say. “No, actually, I would like to borrow a coach. And some horses to go with the coach.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Would you know how to handle a coach?”
&
nbsp; “If you have any doubt about it, I would gladly borrow a coachman, too. As long as he’s not afraid of anything.”
Adalbert laughed. “Here are you—what?—old enough to be someone’s grandmother, telling men of arms not to be afraid?”
“Afraid of magic.”
His face closed.
“I am not a witch, as I’m sure you know already. But there is great magic in the city, and there is no other way to fight magic other than with magic.”
He laughed again and let an uncomfortably long silence lapse. After a while, he said, “My father dabbled in magic. I’m sure you saw the scar on his calf.”
“I did, and madame Sabine also explained to me how he received it. It was not through magic, but through wanting to use the dragon with the balloons.”
He snorted. “It’s all magic to me. It’s unnatural for people to want to fly.”
“But surely you recognise the value of being able to fly over a city, even to arouse the curiosity of the people?”
“I want none of it here, and I need the barn. I have told my father’s mistress that she should leave. Any time now, people will arrive to take all her stuff off my land.”
“As far as I know, yes, although all her balloon stuff may have been taken off. Frankly I would’ve wanted to burn it.”
“I think that would be unwise.”
He looked at her curiously.
Nellie continued. “For all the time that I worked for the royal family, all the time I’ve been in the palace, and all the time I’ve gone to the church and attended services, I have seen people who wanted to pretend that magic doesn’t exist, and that ignoring it will make it go away. I have seen how young children who have magic get ignored and end up harming themselves and those around them because they were never taught properly how to deal with magic. This is what happened to Princess Celine. I have seen how the church became so afraid of magic that they drove from the city a huge number of people who are useful. Our city has become a ghost town. And now we have in the city a magician who wants to rule all of it, and cannot be challenged, because we have no one left who is able to challenge him. This is what we are about. This is why I want to use every new thing possible. And I want to do it not through arms but through convincing the people. We know about the magic. We know that much if it comes through food. Your father knew this. We know that the shepherd wants to rule the city by himself and that it would be a terrible thing once he pushes aside poor Casper who is just caught in his plan. Now Casper and Prince Bruno have holed themselves up in the palace, and what do you think the shepherd will do? He will starve them, and then he will move in and kill both of them, and we will have lost the only chance we have of getting our old city back. You do a lot of business with the city. What would you do if they stopped buying your food?”
