Barefoot Pirate

  Nan stayed away from Hortia and Ilda and anyone else known for bad tempers. Ilda had slapped Telin across the face for just smiling, and not long after the noon bells rung, a whisper made its way through the girls that one of the linen bond-servants had been locked up for (someone said) sassing one of the guests. Nan was glad she wasn’t among the boy bond-servants, who were stuck with the job of serving all the prepared food. They came and went in a constant stream, carrying the heavy trays carefully lest a drop spill. Report had it they were punished severely if the food didn’t arrive in the dining areas as perfectly as it had been set out by Cook and her two assistants.

  Hortia slammed a tray of spice pots down between Nan and Telin. “Hurry up with those pies,” she said shortly.

  Telin stuck out her tongue at Hortia’s back, and grinned over at Nan.

  Nan grinned back, her heart hammering. Looking at the spices, which were for the meat pies, gave her an idea.

  Shifting her position, she glanced around—everyone was busy. Her hand darted out, grabbed a handful of pepper—

  “What are you doing?!”

  Olucar’s sharp voice ripped across the room.

  Nan froze, terrified. How could she forget to look at the inner door?

  Olucar strode forward. “So you are a thief!”

  “It was just a little pepper, your ladyship,” Nan said numbly. “To make the mush taste better—”

  “‘Just a little pepper’,” the woman mimicked in a nasty voice. “Do you know how much it costs us if every greedy criminal who wants ‘just a little something’ steals it? Hmmm? That is three years added to your rehabilitation, thief. Three years, and the day after the wedding, you will have a month of stairs.”

  Nan bowed her head. She kept her face humble, but inside her chest triumph burned bright and red-hot. After tonight the prince will be free and I’ll be gone, or else—

  No use in thinking about ‘or else.’ The main thing was, she still had the pepper.

  o0o

  It was amazing, Joe thought dismally many hours later, how much difference the sun made. Before he’d been broiling, and then for a brief time the shadows helped cut the heat, and then the shadow-time got longer and deeper, and a cold wind whipped up from nowhere. The burlap of the sack didn’t keep the wind out any more than it had blocked the heat, and the potatoes pressing against Joe felt like ice cubes.

  How much longer?

  Almost as soon as he thought it, one of the guards called, “Hai! Supply cart, third company, sixth detail.”

  “Supply cart,” came an answering call—more guards.

  They creaked a little ways farther, then Mican called in a bored voice, “Can you fellows fetch the peeler? She has to help us with these bags. She knows where they keep them.”

  “You fetch the peeler,” was the prompt reply. “We’re not your errand-runners.”

  “I’ll do it,” Shor said, and Joe heard her quick step diminishing.

  A minute or so later the cart stopped, and a couple minutes after that it jounced as someone jumped onto the back. Joe felt all the bags lean, and leaned with his. One knee and one elbow were sticking out because his potatoes had shifted around, and he didn’t dare move lest those joints look suddenly unpotato-like.

  He was glad it was dark. The guards didn’t speak as the kids slowly unloaded the first bag or two, but by the third they were talking softly a little distance away. Joe counted three separate voices.

  A few minutes later he heard a foot scrape against the wood near him, and someone’s heavy breathing. He braced—but this time it was Kevriac’s bag they lifted.

  Joe listened, his heart yammering. The guards were still talking, sounding bored. Bits of conversation reached him: “...Todan wants every one of the toffs accounted for—they can’t even get a drink of water without a guard...” “No one wants duty up in the Magicians’ Tower. Rumor has it that old woman can turn you into stone with a mere glance...”

  And from the kids, “Right there. With the other onions....No, the rotwort goes in each corner...just shift that big bag of beetroots. We have to use up the carrots first...”

  The feet scampered near Joe. The cart jounced. Jolted. Then his bag was hefted. He made himself go limp, though a huge potato squashed painfully against his nose and another wedged itself against his eye. Joe strained to listen for the guards. He could no longer hear their words, but their tone was unchanged.

  Someone grunted softly and his bag thumped down. He stayed limp. A warm hand pressed against his shoulder, and a soft whisper came right next to the burlap: “It’s untied, but wait until the three bells before you come out. Then wait here.”

  Three bells. Noss had said that that was the castle equivalent of ‘lights out’ for the servants.

  The person departed. Joe heard a door shut, and he and Kevriac were in the dark.

  Neither of them spoke.

  Joe shifted carefully, but there was no comfortable position. His head was starting to ache. He drew in a long, careful breath, and let it out just as slowly.

  Now for the long wait.

  o0o

  Nan lay curled upon her bed, the blanket pulled over her head. She had her clothes on. Under her bed, ready to be grabbed, were an extra blanket and her shoes.

  Tula stood at the door, her posture weary. Her candle streamed with steady light as she called out the girls’ names one by one. First the linen girls’ side. Nan heard a moan—Taliath? No one paid any attention, and Nan did not move.

  Tula finished the scrubbers, and started on the kitchen girls’ row.

  “Giula?”

  “Here.”

  “Amar?”

  “Here...”

  Taliath groaned louder.

  “Stop the noise, please. Lisan?”

  “Here.”

  “Hortia?”

  “Here.”

  “Telin.”

  “Here...”

  Three more girls, then Nan, and that was it. Tula was about to turn away, her hand already hefting the key, when Taliath let out a horrific scream.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Shut up, peeler.”

  “Are we under attack?”

  “Sh! What if the Lady hears? We’ll all get beatings!”

  Taliath doubled over, face down, on her bunk, and Tula cast one frightened look behind her and walked in quickly, her candle flickering.

  “My stomach! It’s killing me!” Taliath screamed, and clutched at Tula, who staggered back. The candle fell, and went out.

  That had to be the signal.

  Nan ripped out of bed, and with shaking hands pulled up the extra blanket and the shoes, shaping them into as human a form as she could. She’d been curled on her side; she tried to get the pillow and blanket and shoes to approximate her body, stretched her blanket over them.

  In three long steps she was out the door.

  Not three steps farther and she heard a scritching noise come from the dorm room behind her. She glanced back and the reddish light of a candle flame flared in the doorway. Nan started running. The last thing she heard was Tula threatening Taliath with punishment if Lady Olucar heard that shrieking, and couldn’t she just lie down?

  Nan sped swiftly down the back halls to the kitchen, which was dark and silent, the banked fire a weird crimson glow. It gave off just enough light for Nan to navigate, and she made her way to the storage room without banging into any furniture.

  “Are you there?” she called outside the door.

  Two voices answered, “Yes!”

  She opened the door, and Joe and Kevriac emerged, stretching and shrugging as if their muscles were stiff. They began brushing at themselves.

  Nan sucked in a shuddering breath. “Follow me.”

  o0o

  Joe fumbled after Nan, who ran away from them into a huge, gloomy stone kitchen.

  “Wait—” Joe said, trying to walk quickly. Every muscle protested.

  “Put these on.” Nan flung something at each of the boy
s.

  Joe put up his hands in time to catch some kind of cloth. He stood looking at it until Nan grabbed it away, and with a short, sharp sigh, she flung it around Joe and then tied it in back.

  “Apron,” she said.

  “Well, how was I supposed to—”

  “Shh.”

  Kevriac was just tying his. Nan picked up trays and handed them to each boy. This time Joe was ready; he stuck out his hands and took his tray.

  “You’ve got apple tarts,” Nan whispered. “If we’re stopped, Lady Alessa wanted apple tarts and cinnamon pastries.”

  “Who’s Lady Alessa?”

  “Who cares? We’ll be lost if they know where her rooms are.”

  “I have the cinnamon pastries, right?” Kevriac whispered. “That’s what it smells like.”

  “Yes,” Nan said, and lit a candle from the big fireplace. “Let’s go.”

  She led the way to a narrow passage, and then up a flight of stairs—and another flight of stairs, and then another. Joe’s legs were burning by the time they reached the top of the third, but Nan was still practically running. At the top, there were two guards.

  Nan went right up to them. “Runner.” Her voice sounded high and strained. “Lady Alessa wants apple tarts, and pastries for the children.”

  The guard held up his hand, motioned the boys forward, inspected the trays, then waved them on.

  Once they were safely around the next corner Joe heard Nan’s breath whoosh out. But before any of them could say anything, there was a weird squawking noise, and again Nan froze.

  “Look down!” she ordered in a furious whisper. “Don’t look at it!”

  It? Joe thought, wondering if the sorcerer had made monsters to roam the corridors. Another squawk closer, and something sailed right by his head.

  “Here Lulu,” Nan crooned in a sweet voice that shook a little. “Nice birdie. Want a treat?”

  Another squawk, that sounded almost like a question. Joe stood where he was, holding his tray, his head bent. From the corner of his vision he saw something yellowish flapping round Nan’s head. It dropped to a window sill, and Nan held something out on her palm. The bird pecked at it—and Nan drew in a sharp breath. Had the bird bit her? The bird made munching noises, then a moment later let out another shriek.

  “More?” Nan said, her voice urgent. “Here, LuLu! Take!”

  Again she held out her hand, and the bird munched. A third time this happened, then something weird happened. The bird took off, flapped a little, then spiraled down to the floor. It wandered in a circle, then stopped and tucked its head under its wing, and went still.

  “It worked,” Nan said in satisfaction. “It worked. I gave it a pik-nut dusted with sleepberry-powder.”

  “Sleepberry powder?” Kevriac whispered. “How did you get that up here? It’s expensive?”

  “You can get anything if you’re willing to do others’ chores, or give up meals,” Nan whispered back. “The linen girls steal it from the toffs.”

  “You should’ve saved it for any guards we meet,” Joe said.

  Nan shook her head. “That disgusting bird is the worst spy in the place. And it wouldn’t work on any human unless we gave them handfuls.”

  Joe sighed. “Well, let’s go.”

  They started off again.

  One more narrow stone corridor, past a couple of guards who looked menacing as soon as the kids appeared, but relaxed slightly a moment later. It’s working only because we’re kids, Joe thought. I just hope this crummy disguise will get us right to the prince.

  They went through a big door, and Joe looked both ways down a huge corridor, lit by fancy lamps at intervals along the walls. Nan doused her candle and put it in her pocket. “Heads low,” she whispered. “Servants don’t look up.”

  Joe tipped his head forward, but his eyes were busy taking in the handsome tapestries on the walls, and the carved furniture set against the walls at intervals. They had obviously left the servants’ portion of the castle, and were in the areas lived in by the aristocrats.

  More people were around, now. Joe and Kevriac copied Nan; whenever fabulously dressed adults strolled by, she faded against a wall until they passed, her head down and her hands crossed in front of her. Joe stood next to her, his nose bowed until it almost touched the pastry dish. The adults paid the kids about as much attention as they paid the furniture.

  “Todan’s big party,” Nan whispered as they started forward again. “Still going on.”

  “They’ll dance half the night,” Kevriac said. “It’s the townsfolk who have to be up at dawn to line the roads and cheer the bride along. Supposed bride,” he amended with satisfaction.

  Nan grinned at him. “The toffs only have to be ready by noon, when she’s supposed to arrive here, but from what the girls said, most of them are complaining like it’s before sunrise.”

  They neared a window—not one of the slit windows, but a big one that looked directly out over the city below. Joe paused, and the others slowed their steps. The yellow lights gleamed peacefully—no colored lights, like on Earth. It was hard to believe that somewhere below Warron and his group were busy breaking into the Lorjee house, where Alitra was currently being kept.

  Kevriac looked around the hall, and Nan and Joe did also. No one coming. Nan said, “We only have one more corridor, then we’re at the tower, and I don’t know what to do—” She stopped.

  Joe turned. A tall man approached with quick strides, his boots noiseless on the carpeting. A few seconds more, and he would have been there to overhear.

  The kids were already at the window, but they hastily assumed their servant stance, and waited for the man to pass by.

  Except he didn’t pass by. His steps slowed, and then he stopped.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  Nan curtseyed. “Sir, orders from Lady Alessa. Wants these sweets.” She indicated the trays.

  The man lifted a hand and rubbed his jaw. Joe dared a quick glance. The man was tall, about his dad’s age, with a pleasant face. He was dressed in blue and silver. The sword at his side had jewels along the ornate hilt.

  Joe started to look down, glanced over at Kevriac, and felt a pang of alarm when he saw the weird look in the boy’s eyes. He was staring at the man’s hand. On it was a ring with a blue stone that glittered and gleamed.

  “I don’t want to get anyone into trouble,” the man said slowly. “But I just now came from the ballroom, and Lady Alessa was dancing the taltan.”

  Nan looked up at him, her face pale.

  “Wants these for when she comes back, sir,” Joe said quickly in the voice he reserved for addressing teachers and vice-principals.

  “I see,” the man said, and smiled. “Well then, carry on.” He gave a lazy wave of his hand, and Nan curtseyed again. Then she sent a sharp look at Joe, who saw Kevriac give a short bow, and Joe hastily copied.

  The man waited as the kids moved on. Joe felt his gaze on their backs, and he was glad when they turned a corner—and no one came after.

  “Ugh,” Nan breathed, sagging against a wall. “I thought I was going to barf.”

  “Good thinking,” Kevriac said to Joe. “About her wanting them. My mind went blank, soon’s I saw that ring.”

  “Ring?” Nan and Joe said at the same time.

  Joe gave a faint grin, but Nan didn’t even seem to notice. Joe saw her fingers trembling, and realized she was at least as scared as he was.

  “The starstone ring,” Kevriac said quietly. “That’s the one who’s plotting with the Duke of Lorjee.”

  “You sure?” Joe asked. “I mean, most of these guys wear a bunch of rings.”

  “Didn’t you see the carving on it? There aren’t many rings like that one.”

  “Do you think he believed us?” Nan asked.

  “I don’t know,” Kevriac said, “but if we see him again, I think there’s going to be trouble. There’s just no reason why he should have talked to us like that. Toffs don’t. They ignore servant
s, unless the servants are doing something they shouldn’t be.”

  Joe sighed—and just then the midnight bells tolled, sending echoes clanging off the mountain cliffs.

  “Our signal,” Kevriac said.

  “The doors are down there, around that corner,” Nan said, whispering. “There are four guards—but I don’t know what to do now. Those guards will never believe us.”

  Kevriac smiled. “Now it’s my turn.” He handed his tray to Nan, slid his hand beneath his apron, and came out a moment later with a glass ball. Kevriac had put his knapsack on under his clothes—though the huge, shapeless tunic he habitually wore had hidden it.

  “My turn, and Elan’s,” Kevriac said. “Quiet while I scry her.”

  Nineteen

  For a long moment the two kids stood there watching, but nothing seemed to be happening. Nan thought she saw a faint glow in the crystal resting on Kevriac’s palm, but it could easily have been reflected light from one of the lamps.

  Then Joe said, “Look!” He pointed at another of the big windows. This one looked out over the bay at an angle. “That’s got to be the Falcon.” He grinned.

  “What’s going on?” Nan asked.

  “Warron is kidnapping the bride—Liav’s sister—oh yeah, you don’t know him. Anyway, Sarilda and Warron snuck into the Lorjee house today, dressed like servants. Sarilda was going to do that magic of hers and take on Alitra’s face to fool her guards. Warron and some of Noss’s kids will sneak the real Alitra out, and take her to the Falcon. Look! Something’s happening on the wharf.”

  Nan looked down at where tiny orange lights moved around, like sluggish fireflies. Torches!

  “That’s the wharf rats,” Joe said. “They’re causing some kind of ruckus so that Blackeye can get the Falcon and throw that guy Mursid and his jerks overboard.”

  “And Bron’s mastered the spell-stone I made for him,” Kevriac said from behind. He was grinning happily. “Look at that fog!”

  Nan squinted out at the sea, which was partially obscured by mist. A strange, glowing fog snaked out over the water. Ships slowly moved into it and out of it. Everything was slow motion—the ships, the fog, the torches—but she could imagine the shouting and screaming going on below.