by B. K. Parent
I began to run my hands over the wall, pushing at the stones. Up and down the columns of stones I went, but nothing seemed to move. I had started to worry because time was so hard to tell down here, and I was worried that Nana would try to come after me. I was just about to give up and head back when the rock I was pushing on suddenly moved inward, and there was a slight grating sound as a part of the wall moved outward into the tunnel. I poked my head through the opening and saw light. I realized that I was looking at the inside of the well. I looked up, and there was Nana holding a lantern aloft, looking down at me. To my left, I could see handholds cut into the side of the well, just to the left of the opening.
“Well, that surely explains how the puzzle box got onto the well cover, but it still doesn’t explain what happened to your Da,” Nana suggested.
“The tunnel goes on from here. I’m going to follow it. I passed by another branch that looked like it headed off towards the stables. Too bad there’s not one that leads to the still house, but then Da built that for you after we came. It’s much newer than the cottage and other buildings. I wonder how Da knew about the tunnels and why he didn’t tell us. Why don’t you go put the kettle on? I’m going to need something warm when I get out of these tunnels. It’s cooler here than it was near the smithy, and I swear I can smell the sea. See you in a bit.” I hope, I thought.
I closed the wall to the well back up and continued on, following the footprints. The tunnel began to slant downwards, and the air became moister. The tunnel then turned back almost on itself and continued down. This turning and downward pattern continued on through six more turns and reminded me of a switchback trail in the hills. When the tunnel ended, it opened out into a small cave. The floor of the cave was sandy and held a few old broken barrels, a couple of smashed-in crates, and a fairly new-looking chest. I knew I would need to come back and see what, if anything, was in the chest, but on the opposite side of the cave the tunnel continued, so I went forward.
Just inside the tunnel was a short landing and stairs leading down again. It was so cold I could see my breath, and the stone steps were wet with moisture. A rope railing was fastened to the wall on my right. The rope looked fairly new, and when I pulled on it, well anchored. I grabbed the rope with my right hand and held the lantern aloft with my left. I started down the steps slowly, counting as I went. Forty-two steps later, I reached the bottom and could feel I was in a large space. It was then that I noticed that while not bright, there was light in this cavern. I set the lantern aside and just looked at what was before me.
I was standing on a ledge that looked like it was above the high tide mark. Opposite me was an opening in the cavern face that probably turned beyond the furthest point I could see. Just below me, down some shallow steps, was a floating dock, and from the looks of the condition of the wood, not an old dock. Had a boat been moored here? From the size of the opening I could see across the way, and depending on where it went, it was possible a small skiff could have been moored here. Was that how Da left? Erik Fishmaan had said two small boats had been seen leaving the cove on the day Da disappeared. If Da did leave by boat, was his the one that was racing south or the one heading out to sea?
I was not going to solve that mystery standing here, so I headed back up the stairs. When I got back to the small cave, I stopped to check out the chest. A padlock hung open, so I removed it and opened the chest. There was nothing inside. At least at first glance, it looked like there was nothing inside, but I noticed what looked like a scrap of cloth in the back right corner. I tried to pick it up, but it was snagged. I pulled on it, and the bottom of the chest came up with the cloth. Below the false bottom was a bundle wrapped in oilcloth. I picked it up, put it in my pack, and headed back up the tunnel.
The way back went faster than the way down. My heart almost failed me when I approached the well, and a shadow moved. It was Nana.
“Mercy,” I exclaimed, “you scared the daylights out of me.”
Nana almost looked contrite as she explained she did not want me to have all of the adventures and had found the opening to the tunnel system in the stable.
“And very cleverly it was hidden too. A panel in the tack room, the one you hang the harnesses on, swings open if you pull on the third hook and then twist it to the left. I found the latch purely by persistence and mistake. Let’s head back that way. It’s not a difficult exit. It has steep stairs but is certainly easier to get in and out of compared to the smithy or the well. I’m sure your Da didn’t create this. The whole underground tunnel system seems older than our time here. I wonder who built it and why. I’ve heard tell that smugglers worked this coast years ago. That may explain it, but it still leaves more questions than answers.”
Nana was right, of course. Even if the tunnels had been created by smugglers that still did not explain how Da knew about them, or why he had not told us. Had he had a boat tied up to the dock in the sea cave, and why? I had no answers. At that point we had arrived at the bottom of the steep stairway leading up to the stable. Nana went first, lifted a latch and the wall panel swung open. We stepped through to the tack room and closed the panel behind us.
“I’m going to go close up the opening in the smithy, and I’ll be right in,” I told Nana.
I slowly walked to the smithy. So many thoughts were going through my head, most of them beginning with the word “why”. It did not take me long to refill the tub with the scraps of cloth and leather, push it back, and put the boxes back on the top shelf. Once that was done, nothing looked out of place. I do not think anyone would guess the tub full of cleaning rags hid a secret opening into a network of underground tunnels.
When I got back inside, I remembered the oilcloth-wrapped package I had found in the false bottom of the chest in the cave. I sat down at the kitchen table and unwrapped it. Inside were two small, well-used, leather bound journals. As I opened the first one, a memory came flashing back to me of Mother, Da, and I sitting close together at the table in the homewagon, rain pounding on the roof. You could smell the pine from the trees we were camped next to through the slightly opened window, and also a hint of smoke coming from the smoldering cook fire we had abandoned when the rain had begun quite suddenly. Mother was mending one of my shirts, I was working on some type of carving, and Da was writing in the journal. I remember how he stuck out the tip of his tongue when he concentrated on writing. What I would not give to have them both at the table with me now.
I spent the rest of the day pouring over Da’s journal writings, only some of which I could decipher. He used a lot of abbreviations which meant little to me, but he also included very useful information about spots we had liked to overnight at, good locations at markets and fairs, some folks and places to avoid. In addition he had noted other useful tidbits like merchants he had found fair or who had good quality goods. I did not realize how late it had become when Nana reminded me that I had better head into the village and see if the fishers had learned anything new. I put the journals away and walked into the village.
The pub is a low-slung building on the eastern square of the village. It has a front entrance facing the village green and a back entrance leading out to the stable. The front part of the building housed the main room of the pub, and the back part was divided into three parts: the kitchen, several guest rooms for travelers, and the rooms reserved for Thomas and his family. Thomas’ pub was really the central meeting place of the village, and this night it was as crowded as usual.
Called the “Leeward Inn” according to the sign swinging above the door, the pub is made of local stone and timber. Inside a warm fire crackled and snapped in the large fireplace occasionally sending a puff of smoke towards the smoke blackened rafters. Folks were gathered around the rough-hewn wooden tables, tipped back on chairs, or seated side by side on benches. Conversation and laughter filled the air along with the smells of roasted meat, spilled ale, raw fish and brine, and warm sea-da
mpened wool. I looked across the room and saw Thomas behind the bar. As I moved further into the room, folks greeted me and inquired about Da. They were kind in their manner, but I had no new news for them. Thomas motioned me over and pointed towards a corner where Erik Fishmaan sat with a few others of the fishers.
“Go talk to Erik,” Thomas said. “They found somethin’ this day.”
I tried to read Thomas’ face to see if what I was about to learn was good or bad news, but his face gave me no clue. I turned and headed to the corner with some trepidation.
“Thomas said you had some information,” I said to Erik.
“Aye, lass, sit yerself down here so we can have a quiet talk. Just pull a chair up, there’s a good gel.”
The other fishers moved slightly apart so I could move a chair in, and I sat down and waited for Erik to talk to me.
“Jens here was fishin’ south of here along the shore by Dragon’s Teeth rocks. Ya know the place?”
“I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never been there. It’s about a quarter day’s sail south, isn’t it?” I replied.
“Ah yup,” Jens answered. “Don’t normally fish there but heard the bluenoses were runnin’ in close to shore, and since it was a calm day, decided to check it out. Gettin’ good coin for bluenoses these days. Wouldn’t want to fish near the Dragon’s Teeth most days, but it was worth the risk this day. Saw somethin’.”
I held my breath. Jens fiddled with his pipe, set it down, took a swig of his ale, scratched his whiskery chin, and just as I was about to reach over the table and shake him, he finally started speaking again.
“Saw a wreck of a small boat. Looked like it was thrown up on the Teeth and smashed. No one can remember it bein’ there last week. I asked ‘round. Could’ve been one of the two was seen leavin’ the cove the day your Da went missin’. Hard to tell though. Don’t know if’n this information helps or makes things worse.”
Chapter Five
I left the fishers’ table more worried now than ever and frightened. Had Da left by boat and was that his boat smashed on the Dragon’s Teeth? Jens did not think anyone could have survived a wreck such as he had seen. It really hit home that Da could be dead, but then I shook that thought off like a dog rids himself of water. I would not think that way. Da was alright, and I needed to get prepared to go on the road if he was not back in the next week. Thomas’ wife was behind the bar when I approached. I asked her where Thomas was.
“He’s gone out back to check on the mare. She’s about to foal any time now. You go on back now, and you’ll find him there.”
I thanked her kindly and hurried down the hallway that led to the back door and the stable. Stable really is not the correct term for the building in back of the pub. The building is a combination stable, barn and carriage house for it houses horses, a couple of milk cows, assorted wagons, carriages and, at this moment, our homewagon. At this time of night, the building was dimly lit, full of shadows and rustling noises. I walked carefully, trying to avoid anything on the floor that I did not want to clean off my boots later. The light was brighter in the sixth stall down, so I headed towards it.
“Thomas?” I called softly.
“In here, lass,” Thomas replied.
I looked into the stall just as Thomas stood up and stepped away from the mare. There in the straw, struggling to get up, was a newborn filly.
“Isn’t she a beauty?” Thomas asked with obvious pride, as if he rather than the mare had somehow created this wet bundle of black and silver hide on spindly shaky legs.
As we watched, the little filly somehow found her mother in that age old dance of survival and began to nurse. Thomas swung the stall door open and stepped out.
“Guess I’m not needed anymore, not that I was needed at this birth at all other than to murmur encouragin’ words and once again stand in awe of the natural order of things. You come back hopin’ to be in on this small miracle?”
“I wish I could say yes, but that’s not why I came back,” I replied. “I need to talk to you privately. Could you come by the cottage tomorrow? It has to do with Da.” At this point I lowered my voice to a mere whisper and said, “Da left a note. Said if he didn’t return, I was to get you to help me. His note cautioned secrecy. Said I was to trust you.”
“Ah,” Thomas sighed. “So it’s begun.”
I was about to ask what had begun, but Thomas silenced me with a look.
“Tomorrow,” he mouthed. “Dawn, your place.” Then in a normal voice he said, “Well, I had better be gettin’ back to help Mabel. Glad you brought that flea-ridden cat with you to be company on your way back.”
I was just about to tell Thomas that Carz had not come with me, when he butted my hand with his head. I had left Carz at home with Nana, but it really did not surprise me that he was here now. All of Thomas’ animals were used to Carz so had not raised an alarm. To be honest, I was glad he had come. The walk home through the fog that had blown in from the sea would be more comfortable with him by my side. He always seemed to know when he was needed. It was uncanny. This night I did not question his appearance as I left Thomas’ and headed home.
In the quiet on the foggy trail, the only sounds I heard were the distant sound of the waves hitting the shore and my own footfalls. Carz made almost no sound. I would have welcomed a distraction from my own thoughts. Thomas had been so quick to signal me to stop our quiet conversation. What had that been all about? His quick look about as if the walls had ears bothered me. And what did he mean when he had said “So it’s begun”?
The walk back to the cottage was uneventful. By the time I arrived, Nana had already gone to bed. She had banked the fire and left a lamp on low. I climbed up to my room and got ready for bed, but sleep was a long time coming. Dawn, however, came way too soon. I almost overslept. Sleepily, I got dressed. The icy cold water I splashed on my face went a long way towards waking me up quickly.
Thomas was just coming around the bend as I reached the front porch. He pointed toward the orchard and headed up the path. I followed. Previous owners had put a stone bench atop the hill on which the orchard grew. Cherry and apple trees surrounded us, buds just now showing. In a few short weeks the trees would be in full bloom, covered with pink, white, and red blossoms filling the air with sweet perfume. I loved to come here when the trees were all in bloom, the warm spring sun warming me while I lay on the soft grass listening to the bees buzz among the flowers. If Da did not return and I followed his instructions, I would not be here this spring when the trees flowered. We sat on the bench, and I waited for Thomas to begin.
“You’re probably too young to remember the time following the death of our Queen Octavia, but it was a time of turmoil and intrigue while those who sought power vied among themselves for position. When our beloved Queen died, her daughter and heir Princess Esmeralda, who is about your age, was obviously not of age to rule, and so a regent was named. Princess Esmeralda comes of age this summer. There have been rumblings and rumors, even this far out from the capitol, of a power struggle brewin’ between the Regent’s factions and those loyal to Queen Octavia. It’s thought that perhaps the Regent isn’t as willin’ to give up the power of the throne as he professes.” Thomas fell silent at this point.
“What does this have to do with Da?” I inquired. This lesson on the current history of our land was interesting, but I really could not see how it was related to the issue of my Da being missing.
“Your parents were rovers and as such traveled this land. Most folk really don’t pay much attention to rovers because they’re such a part of our daily lives. Even though they may not be of a village or a town, neither are they considered strangers. Rovers stop in a town or village for a few days or weeks, offer their services or sell their wares, and then move on. No one thinks much of that. Many rovers appear in the same places at the same time year after year. As you know, a village g
reen, a town marketplace, or a local fair, is often abuzz with gossip and rumors. As rovers are so much a part of the scenery, folks talk to them or near their stands. With some careful listenin’, much can be learned. Folks sometimes feel freer sharin’ gossip and rumors with strangers than with folks they know. It doesn’t strike anyone as odd when a rover who has been on the road for awhile asks for news. Lady Celik, one of the old Queen’s advisors knew that, just as she knew that pub keepers got an ear full nightly. Folks will tell a pub keeper things they won’t tell even members of their family. Lady Celik recruited some of us to provide her with information from time to time. Your Da was very good at listenin’ and as a rover could take information from place to place discreetly with no one the wiser.”
“What does all that have to do with now?” I asked. “And what might those strangers have been looking for?”
“I don’t know what they were lookin’ for, but I don’t think they represented Lady Celik or the heir to the throne. With the Princess comin’ of age, it’s a time of change once again, and information is sometimes worth more than the coin of the realm. Now then, you mentioned a note from your Da.”
I told Thomas that Da had said I should trust him and if Da did not return by the end of the week, I was supposed to travel south in the homewagon.
“Da said that I needed to change the appearance of the homewagon and you would know how to get me out of town unnoticed. Changing the appearance of the homewagon shouldn’t be too difficult. Since the outside of the homewagon is so weathered, a coat of paint should cover up all of the markings. I could put some of my own designs on the outside to advertise Nana’s and my goods for sale. I will need to get the homewagon from here to our stable at home to do that. One of my major questions, though, is won’t folks notice I’m not in the village after awhile?”
