The Tale of Mally Biddle (10 page)

Mally quickened her pace, following Galen out of the frighte
ningly empty area of Bosc they had entered. She thought, as she passed a dark alleyway, that she heard crying.

“Baker’s Hill is one of the highest points in Bosc,” Galen explained as they made their way up its steep, grassy side. “It has the best view … though, I imagine the sights from the castle towers are just as exquisite.”

They reached its summit and Mally stared, mesmerized, at the sight before her. She saw what she had expected: the city of Bosc before her with its tall buildings and puffing chimneys. It was all there, yes, but beyond it … just there on the other side of the city’s walls that looked so silly and small from here, was the ocean. Far reaching, an endless, sweeping blue, the ocean stole all of Mally’s attention.

“And there,” Galen prompted, pointing at something behind Mally.

Mally turned and saw through the trees for the first time the castle. Its appearance brought back an earlier conversation.

“If she wanted to jump off a tower, why not just do it there?” asked Mally, pointing to the castle. Its towers were in clear view through the trees. “Why go all the way into the city?”

Galen moved to stand beside her.

“I’ve thought of that, too. I don’t know the castle servants well enough to say for sure, but their loyalty runs even deeper than ours does. I bet that she would think it sacrilegious—scornful to smear her blood on the castle’s stones. Maybe her choosing the bell tower was out of respect for the princess.”

The sight of the castle and the talk of servants brought back the anxiety that Mally had forgotten about. She turned to Galen. His curls lazily danced about his forehead as a small breeze brushed past.

“What am I supposed to do?” she blurted suddenly.

Galen blinked at her in surprise, obviously startled by the que
stion. He opened his mouth, but Mally hurried on.

“I don’t know how to be a servant,” she explained. “Ivan said it’s nothing difficult, but I—”

“You’re not a servant?” Galen interrupted.

“No,” said Mally.

“How did you meet Ivan?” Galen asked.

“He fell off his horse on the way to Halspeare. He stayed with me and my mother until he was better. What’s the matter?” For Galen was looking at her very oddly. He blinked rapidly.

“I’m sorry, I just assumed that you were a servant,” he answered.

“Well, I’m not and I don’t want to mess up because of it. I don’t want to attract attention.”
Any more than I already have
, she added silently, thinking about Bayard.

“You’ll learn quickly,” Galen assured her. “If you’d like, I could give you some advice.”

“Oh, yes! Would you?”

Galen nodded and turned as a tolling sounded through the city. Mally could clearly see the tall Bell Tower.

“I need to get back to the inn,” said Galen.

Mally nodded, thinking of returning to Sam.

“Maybe you can teach me after dinner?” Mally asked hopefully.

“We’ll see.”

***

“Sir, Galen Dunker is here to see you.”

Ivan looked up from the paper in his hand in happy surprise. 

“Show him in, Kate,” said Ivan.

The maid curtseyed and left the study. Very shortly after her departure, Galen entered. He closed the door to the study behind him.

“She isn’t a servant,” Galen said without preamble.

Ivan blinked at Galen, taking in his stiff posture and stern brow.

“So she isn’t a servant,” Ivan admitted. “Would you like som
ething to drink?”

“No.” The firmness in Galen’s voice made Ivan turn from the decanter on the desk.

“What’s wrong, Galen?” Ivan asked.

“Don’t you think it will seem odd that a person who has never been a servant before would get a job in the
castle
? Wouldn’t helping in an inn or shop make more sense for someone with no experience?”

“Does experience really matter for washing sheets? She’ll blend in—”

“You’re not thinking, Ivan!” Galen snapped. “Molick wants us! He’ll be suspicious of anyone new in the castle. If he notices that she doesn’t know what she’s doing—”

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

“You weren’t this against the idea when I first told you about it.

“That was because I assumed you would be getting someone who would know what they were doing,” Galen gritted through his teeth.

“And who says she doesn’t now what she’s doing?” Ivan demanded.

“Mally does! She just told me that she’s worried about being noticed!” Galen fumed.

“It’s about time,” Ivan muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Galen demanded.

Ivan glanced at Galen, sighed uneasily, and sat down.

“Mally’s got a horse,” Ivan explained. “I have him housed up in Bob’s stable.”

Galen nodded perplexed.

“Yes, she told me.”

“Did she also tell you that Bayard took an interest in the horse this morning?” Ivan asked. Ivan took the startled look that now crossed Galen’s face as a no. “They had a bit of a scene, but Bayard left without her horse. I believe he tried to ride him and got thrown in the mud,” he finished, with a sour taste in his mouth.

Galen sat down heavily in the armchair opposite Ivan as if his legs had suddenly given out.

“He’ll kill her,” he whispered. “You have to tell her to go back home. You have to—”

“I’m not doing that!” Ivan yelled. He’d gotten his spy! Damn it, she was going into that castle!

“You’re going to risk her life,” Galen began angrily, but Ivan cut him off.

“We are
all
risking our lives.” Ivan suddenly narrowed his eyes and took in Galen’s tense shoulders. He didn’t usually visit Ivan at his home. Firstly, Ivan wouldn’t hear the end of his mother’s rants on “entertaining commoners.” But there was something very different about Galen’s attitude. He had never been so against a rebel mission before. He of all people understood the risks of being involved. Suspicion started to settle in Ivan’s brain.

“I don’t want Mally to be caught any more than you do,” he stated slowly. “I was furious when I found out Bayard had already argued with her. But the castle servants are protected somewhat. I agree that it would be better if Mally knew something about a servant’s work, but we can’t pick and choose. We need someone in the castle and Mally has agreed.”

Galen nodded his head, his eyes still firm.

“How are you getting her in? Meriyal?”

“Meriyal,” Ivan nodded. “Leave it to me, I’ll get her in.”

“And I’ll get her ready,” Galen added. That firm edge was still in his voice and his eyes had never onc
e lightened. He rose and left.

10
Hired

For three days, Galen spent his free time teaching Mally how to go “unnoticed.”

“Always have your gaze downcast,” he urged her. “And stay close to the walls. Servants don’t walk down the center of a corridor. Your main goal is to blend in.”

He wasn’t sure what exactly she would be doing in the castle, but he had a feeling that it would be some of everything so his le
ssons were broad. He told her the proper way to serve a table and where the silverware should go. He showed her the proper way to carry giant trays with heavy teapots full of hot water and delicate teacups. They rattled loudly in their saucers whenever Mally took a step.

“Roll your feet,” he advised.

When Galen had to help in the inn during serving hours, Mally would visit Sam. Once Galen had a break from the customers, he would join her at Bob’s stable to continue their lessons. It was in the fenced meadow that he taught her how to curtsey, while Bob and his stable hands roared with laughter at Mally’s clumsy attempts.

The nervous tension that had been knotting Mally’s shoulders was loosening somewhat. She was pleased with the things she could do—at least now she didn’t feel so much like a fish out of water.

Mally had seen little of Ivan over these three days. He usually popped in at the Lone Candle in the afternoon or for dinner, but often his stays were short. Apparently, his mother had been furious that he had not gone to Halspeare and it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to leave his house without her trying to follow him.

She missed Ivan and often felt abandoned. This had been
his
idea, after all. She hadn’t expected to be flung to one side.

Since her encounter with Bayard, she had not had any trouble with knights. But on her fourth evening in Bosc, while she was eating her dinner alone at the Lone Candle (Ivan had been unable to join her and Galen was busy at the bar), she overheard two e
xcited older women a few tables from her.

“Fell in the mud! Yes, Doris,
mud
.”

Mally knew immediately what they were talking about and tried to eavesdrop tactfully. She tried to hide her smile as she li
stened to Doris’s laughter. She was just relieved that she hadn’t seen Sir Adrian Bayard since that day. Perhaps, in the castle, her luck would continue.

And when was that going to be? Mally frowned at her roasted potatoes. Ivan had told her yesterday, while she fed Sam a carrot she had bought at the market, that he was still trying to get her in—that it wouldn’t be much longer and to be prepared to leave. Mally looked around the inn. It was fuller tonight than she had yet seen it. Mally suspected that was because of the lack of knights tonight. People didn’t like to eat in the same room with someone who might, for reasons unknown, throw a mug at them. There were even two shabby fiddlers in the corner and some people had begun clapping their hands to the rhythm. It also hadn’t passed Mally’s notice that Olive Dunker’s eyes seemed brighter than usual.

Even though Galen never talked about it and Mally never brought up the subject, Mally had a feeling that the Lone Candle was not doing well. She had heard some customers talking in reminiscent tones of the cheerful, crowded inn that had been the most popular in Bosc. The knights had destroyed that.

The knights had destroyed so much, Mally fumed. She had witnessed herself the terrible power they held over the people just the day before. While Mally had been heading for Bob’s stable, she had witnessed a horrible scene. Three knights were forcibly dragging an older man from his home while what looked like his wife and daughter begged them to let him go. Mally had been transfixed by the screaming and wailing of the women as the knights took the man away. When Galen had joined her at the st
able shortly after and had asked why she was so quiet, she had detailed what she had seen.

“Why did they take him?” she had asked Galen.

“Could have been anything,” he had answered. “He might not have paid his taxes, or he could have insulted them.” Then he’d added as an afterthought, “Or they might have suspected him of rebel activity.”

“Do you think he’s alright?” Mally had asked.

Something had shone in Galen’s eyes that had made his face look much older.

“Most likely? No … most likely he’s not.”

Mally pushed her potatoes around her plate, lost in the memory. The knights had so easily destroyed Bosc and soon the rest of Lenzar would be no different. Blighten was a little town that had never seen much splendor, but the other cities couldn’t be much better off than Bosc. There was something horrifyingly si
mple about how they could drag you away with little or no explanation. A knight could walk through the Lone Candle’s door right now and demand everyone leave. They had all the control. All the power. They could do anything they wanted with no threat of anyone saying otherwise.

The door of the Lone Candle opened and Mally tensed, then she relaxed as she saw Ivan walk through the door. She lifted her arm and waved at him. He spotted her and raised his hand as well. Then he got a drink at the bar, whispered something to Galen and made his way to her table.

“How are you?” Ivan asked the moment he had sat.

“Fine. Do you want to order?”

“No, I can’t stay long—visitors.”

Mally nodded and speared a potato. When Ivan didn’t say an
ything else, she glanced up. Ivan sat slightly hunched over the table, his eyes swiveling around the room. His gaze landed on her and she raised her eyebrows. 

“Why the dark demeanor?” Mally asked. She hoped her voice sounded light.

Ivan smiled slightly and said, “You’ll see.”

Mally was about to press for further information, but she was distracted as Galen appeared carrying his own mug of beer. He sat with them.

“Let’s hear it,” said Galen tersely. He also sat bent over the table as if he wanted his words to travel the shortest distance possible.

Ivan leaned forward slightly, looked directly at Mally and said, “You’re in.”

Mally’s heart rate increased substantially and she clutched her fork.

“When do I go?” she whispered.

“Tomorrow. We’ll eat an early breakfast and I’ll take you.”

Mally nodded and stared at the bit of roast still on her plate.

“Do Adam and Cian know she’s in?” Galen asked.

Mally looked up in time to see Ivan nod. She had heard these names before, mentioned by Galen during their lessons. They were the two leaders of the rebel group. Mally had never met them.

“I told Adam and Cian about Mally, but they want to keep her quiet from the rest.”

“Why?” asked Mally, startled.

“The more people who know about you, the more likely there might be a slip,” Ivan answered. “The knights cannot learn of your connection to us.”

“Do you think someone would give me away?” she asked, deeply troubled.

“I doubt any of the members would give you away of his own free will, but we can never be too careful.”

“How will I get in touch with you?” Mally was starting to feel more nervous by the second.

“I’ll find you—or Galen will,” said Ivan, shooting a glance at Galen. “You don’t need to worry about that. If we need to find you, we will.”

“But what if
I
need to find you?” Mally felt that this was highly important.

“If there is an emergency you can come here, but otherwise our meetings will be set up beforehand. You won’t be giving us info
rmation every day—I doubt you’ll learn anything for a few weeks—and anyway, we don’t want anyone to get suspicious of you leaving the castle too frequently.”

Mally nodded, then she caught something he had just said.

“Leave the castle too frequently?” she repeated, looking from Ivan to Galen. “What do you mean by that? What about Sam? I need to see him every day.”

Galen and Ivan glanced at each other.

“Sam can’t stay in the royal stables,” Ivan explained. “He has to stay with Bob.”

“Yes, yes, I know that,” said Mally tersely. “But I still must see him.”

“You’ll probably be able to make some arrangement, “ said Ivan. “Meriyal Boyd is the head servant. You’ll be taking your orders from her. She’s the one to go to about Sam.”

Mally nodded with difficulty. She didn’t like the idea of not seeing Sam.

“While we’re on the subject of Madam Boyd,” Ivan continued, with an uneasy shifting in his chair. “She thinks you are a servant, though not a highly trained one. She’ll keep an eye out for you. But do not tell her or anyone else why you are really there”—Mally nodded, understanding the importance of secrecy—“and I told her you were an orphan.”

At first Mally thought she hadn’t heard him correctly. But G
alen’s groan told her that she had.

“
Excuse me?
” she sputtered.

“Now hear me out! Meriyal has a soft spot for young people in serious trouble. She can’t turn them away, but she also can’t give every single one who knocks on the castle door room and board. I’ve known Meriyal a long time … she’ll never turn away an o
rphan.”

“So now I have to pretend my mother is dead?” Mally deman
ded.

“If you want to help us, yes,” Ivan answered.

Mally stared at him, her jaws locked in place, before jerking her head in a nod.

“Good,” said Ivan. “I told her you came from Corral and Chestnut’s Orphanage in Halspeare.”

From that point on, Mally had difficulty concentrating on the conversation. All of Ivan’s information had been told. She was in the castle. He had pulled Meriyal Boyd’s heartstrings. Ivan and Galen kept up a constant stream of encouragement, until Ivan couldn’t stay any longer (he muttered something about visitors and his mother having his head) and Galen had to return to the bar. Then Mally was alone at her table. Swallowing with difficulty, she tried to keep eating. She tried to listen to the song the fiddlers were playing. She tried to lose herself in the conversation around her. She tried and failed.

***

Mally wasn’t sure how she fell asleep. She was proud that she had kept the emotions writhing around in her stomach in check during dinner, but once she had closed her bedroom door, they flooded her senses. What had she agreed to? Live in the castle? Alone? Where Bayard and Molick and countless others enjoyed tormenting and terrorizing people? All for what? A princess? A
dead
princess?! she fumed to herself. What a fool she was! She could die! Bayard could slit her throat while she slept. Uncontrollably, her hand flew to her throat. Her eyes searched the room like a trapped mouse seeking a hole to escape through, while her hand massaged her throat. What was she doing?

She swallowed with difficulty and let her hand fall from her neck. This would never do. She had to control herself. There was no reason for anyone to think she was a spy for the rebels. Neither Galen nor Ivan were suspected of being members of the group, and this was her first time in Bosc. No one could connect her to the rebels. If she acted normally and didn’t do or say anything stupid, she would be fine.
The knights may not even spend a lot of time in the castle
, she told herself.
They might find the servants dull and predictable and enjoy terrorizing the citizens much more
.

Once Mally’s brain had finally stopped its whirling, she slept dreamlessly, but it only seemed an hour since her head had touched the pillow when she was aroused by a loud knocking on her door.

“Mally? Are you awake?” Galen asked, knocking again.

“I am now,” she groaned crossly.

There was no reply, but Mally heard his feet walking down the hall.

Mally sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was raining. She could hear the heavy plop-plop of raindrops, and the sky through the smeared window was a dreary black.

Shivering, Mally dressed quickly and headed downstairs. There was hardly anyone in the inn. In fact, Mally thought, the inside looked just as dreary as the outside. The only other person in the room was a wizened old woman who sat hunched over a mug of steaming tea. As Mally walked toward a table, the woman glanced up at her and Mally smiled hesitantly. But the woman didn’t return her smile and by the time Mally had sat down, the woman’s gaze had returned to her mug.

The door behind the bar opened and Galen trotted out, carrying a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon in one hand and a jug of juice in the other. But before he reached Mally, he stopped at the table where the old woman sat and asked her something. Mally saw the woman shake her head and Galen continued on to Mally.

“How are you?” he asked immediately and Mally felt a wave of annoyance. She was getting tired of being asked how she was. But Galen’s brow was furrowed and he was staring at Mally with such intensity that she couldn’t bring herself to be rude to him—not when they were both wound so tightly with nervous anticipation.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly. She glanced at the woman five t
ables away, but she had returned to gazing into her tea mug, almost as if she were reading a story.

“Is Ivan here yet?” Mally asked as Galen sat down opposite her.