Chartile: Prophecy (30 page)

Dimitri climbed back down the side of the
building, and found a trap door leading from the roof of the
stables to the hay loft. He jumped through, landing in the soft
bales, and listened quietly. He heard the voices of a boy and girl
arguing in the stable aisle below.

“
How do yeh know he’s not
working for the soldiers, huh? How do yeh know he’s not trying to
get to Lord Valin to kill ‘im? His dad was King Aramor’s advisor
and he’s gone missing.”

“
Oh, go eat dragon dung,
Brock,” said Atana’s voice in response. “If Princess Taraniz’s
soldiers wanted to kill Valin, they’d just storm the manor and do
it by force.”

“
She knows there’s a lot
of people who…are…” the boy named Brock lowered his voice so
Dimitri could barely hear him, “Yeh know — against what she wants
to do. Maybe she’s tryin’ to be more subtle now.”

“
And maybe you’re just a
coward, Brodrick Garrison.”

“
He has a point,” said
Dimitri dropping down from the hay loft in front of the two. They
started, and Atana made a small squeak of surprise, but they did
not run. “I very well could be working for those soldiers.” He
leaned toward them, his eyes widening. “But, I will tell you a
secret. It is not your Lord Valin or Valar that Princess Taraniz
wants. If you can get me to see your lord, I will tell you who she
is truly after.”

Atana and Brock looked at each other wide
eyed. They couldn’t have been much older than Jayson, Jack and Leo.
Dimitri had indeed found a fool to help him get to Valin, but it
wasn’t the fool he had expected. Brock turned to Dimitri, his chin
pushed out and his eyes narrowed. He looked Dimitri up and down. He
folded his arms and sighed.

“
Alright,” he said, “I’ll
help yeh see Lord Valin. But!” The boy held his finger up to
Dimitri’s face, and Dimitri bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a
laugh, “If yeh try anything funny, you’ll regret it.”

Dimitri nodded, and bowed in the proper
elven fashion to Brock. The boy took a step back and looked at
Atana surprised. Finally, he returned the gesture rather clumsily,
and forced Dimitri to hide his amusement in the form of a sneeze
into the sleeve of his cloak.

Atana smiled. “Well, then. I should get back
to work.” She kissed Brock on the cheek and bustled off, skirts
flying as she rushed through the side door and back inside the
inn.

Dimitri and Brock stood facing each other
awkwardly for a few silent moments. Brock swung his arms at his
sides and kicked at the dirt floor with his toe.

Dimitri finally said, “Chamberlain Herodan
would like to keep his matters with Lord Valin quiet. How do you
propose getting past the soldiers?”

Brock stood still, staring at the ground
then looked up at Dimitri, with a smug smile.

Brodrick Garrison was the son of a local
vintner in Cannondole and volunteered for various other merchants
and peoples in the city to make his coin. He helped with the horses
at The Glass Lantern and even delivered medicines for Lady Delia’s
apothecary on occasion. Brock also helped the Sisters at the
chantry. Mostly he dusted down the libraries and cleaned the
dishes, but sometimes the Sisters asked him to take messages to the
other Sisters living in the Chantry apartments. There were twelve
Sisters living in the small apartments connected to the chapel, and
the place was nearly as large as the Lord of Cannondole’s estate
manor.

Dimitri followed Brock along the road to the
chantry. A few soldiers on patrol passed by but took no notice of
them. Dimitri exhaled in relief, and Brock dared a side glance at
him.

“
Look,” said Brock, and he
stopped in the middle of the path leading to the chantry that
loomed behind them. “I’m only doin’ this because Atana asked me to.
How do I really know you’re not gunna, well, I don’t know, say,
kill Lord Valin or something? I don’t want any trouble… but, I want
to help.”

Dimitri lowered his hood and put a hand on
Brock’s shoulder. “Your concern and bravery are commendable, Brock.
May I tell you a secret? The real reason I am here to see Lord
Valin?”

Brock’s eyes widened. He nervously looked
over his shoulders for any passersby then nodded.

“
I am part of a plan to
help bring peace back to Chartile, and your Lord Valin is a very
important piece in my mission. You want to see these soldiers go
away, and not worry about people being killed?” Brock nodded. “Get
me to Lord Valin.”

The boy narrowed his gaze and nodded
determinedly. He puffed out his chest and trudged up the path to
the Chantry. Dimitri smiled at him as he followed, and gave a sigh
of relief again. Telling this complete stranger about their plans
was risky. Very, very risky. Brock could go to the elven soldiers
at any moment, and they would all be done for. But Dimitri had a
sense about people and when to trust them. It was why Nefiri had
entrusted him as her retainer and liaison, even at such a young
age. His stomach gave a flop as he thought of his mother. He knew
he would have to make amends with her when this was all over.

As they approached the main doors to the
chapel, Brock took a small path to the left, and waved to one of
the Sisters working in the gardens alongside the building.

“
Greetings, Sister
Theodora,” Brock said.

The woman looked up from her work, brushing
a tuft of gray hair from her eyes. Her apron was full of small
squashes and a few of the yellow peppers.

“
Hello, Brock,” she said
squinting against the glare of the late morning sun.

Dimitri expected an inquiry to the boy’s
presence or who his companion was that the woman had surely never
seen before. But Sister Theodora bent her head and began plucking
up the squashes again.

There was a small door further back along
the side of the building. Brock opened it as though he had
travelled this route a hundred times. Dimitri reminded himself he
probably had. They emerged into a bustling kitchen where several
woman, most of them elderly, were finishing drying dishes at a
large tub in the corner beside a drain trough.

“
Brock!” called one of the
younger woman, looking up from the tub. “You’ve missed the
breakfast washing, dear. Who is your friend?”

“
This is George. George
Potts,” Brock answered without hesitation. “He works for one of the
merchants from Castielle. Says his master wants him to look in the
library for something.” Dimitri smiled at the women, and gave a
small bow in the elven fashion.

“
Sister Marta is in the
library if you need any assistance,” said another woman, and she
dumped a tub of water down the drain with as much strength as any
farmer or blacksmith. Dimitri marveled at the women as they
hurriedly flitted around the kitchen carrying large pots full of
water, or large baskets full of produce hooked on each arm. He had
no idea the woman of the Elven faith were such hard workers. It
rivaled some of the Dwarvik men he knew.

“
My thanks, dear ladies,”
he finally said, and nearly ran into Brock as he hurried him along
behind the boy. “Excellent thinking, Brock,” Dimitri said when they
had entered a deserted back hallway.

“
I’m smarter than I look,
Georgie,” he said. Dimitri smiled at him and ruffled his
hair.

“
Good to know. We need
allies like you right now.”

“
Yeh do?” asked the
boy.

“
Oh, yes,” replied
Dimitri, though he kept his voice low and his eyes sharp. “Taraniz
has allies and spies everywhere, even if most of the elves do not
agree with her. She is still the Princess, and soon to be Queen, I
am sure.”

Brock finally stopped before a skinny door
with a rusty handle. He opened it and gestured for Dimitri to
follow him inside. Dimitri hesitated, but the boy had been
trustworthy so far. He closed the door behind him, and waited for
his eyes to adjust to what little light came from around the edges
of the door. He could hear Brock feeling along the walls and
tripping over what appeared to be buckets and brooms.

“
I heard the Sisters
talking about a passage to the Lord’s estate a few months ago, when
some of the other towns were being attack – I mean, when people
were being executed for their crimes. I got bored one day and
decided to look for it. I nearly gave up when I accidentally found
it. Ah, here it is!”

He pulled aside a wooden panel along the
back of the closet. It swung toward them as if on a hinge. Brock
stepped in and lit the lantern that hung from a nail along a
narrow, drippy passage.

“
It comes out in one of
the bedrooms. One of the Lord’s bedrooms, not here,” said Brock. “I
know. I followed it.” He handed the lantern to Dimitri. Dimitri
held the tiny lantern up to inspect the passage. It was made of
packed earth and crumbling stone walls. It was clearly not Dwarvik
made, and he had to hunch nearly double to fit.

“
Can I do anythin’ else?
You know, to help? I just want everyone to be alright again and
all. I’ll do whatever you need.” Brock shrugged and looked from
Dimitri to the floor and back again.

Dimitri turned and placed his hand on the
boy’s shoulder again. “You have already done a great service,
Brock. Not only to your Lord Valin, but to all of Chartile. What I
need is for you not keep silent. You mustn’t tell a soul about
this. Not even Atana. If all goes well, in a few days, you will
hear the good news of our success. I am sure Queen Piper will make
you a soldier one day if you so wished it.” He ruffled the boy’s
hair again, then headed into the passage.

“
Who’s Queen Piper?” Brock
whispered excitedly.

Dimitri stopped and closed his eyes. He had
spoken too much, but what was done was done. Words could not be
taken back once given voice. He sighed loudly.

“
She is Princess Taraniz’s
sister. Piper is going to make everything right again. But, you
mustn’t tell anyone, Brock. If Princess Taraniz finds out, she will
kill Piper.”

Brock’s eyes widened and he nodded his head
vigorously. “I won’t tell anyone. Not ever!”

“
Good. Good bye, Brock.
And thank you,” said Dimitri, and he turned once again up the
passage.

There were no other torches or lamps of any
kind save the one Brock had handed him when he first entered the
passage. It was difficult to see, even by the lamp light for
Dimitri had to crouch so low, but the crumbling stone walls looked
to be hundreds of years old. He was more positive than ever these
were not Dwarvik made. Still, they must have been sturdy enough to
have withstood all this time. He hoped anyway. It wouldn’t do
anyone much good if the tunnel suddenly decided to collapse on
him.

No sooner had the thought entered his mind
than Dimitri found the tunnel sloping upward. Dimitri crouched even
lower, nearly on his hands and knees. The passage ended at a
winding stone staircase, and he could finally stand straight again.
He took a deep breath and tiptoed quietly up the stair. He assumed
he was now inside Lord Valin’s estate, and Brock had suggested, and
was heading to an upper level.

The staircase concluded at a small six foot
room. A plain wooden wall with an ornately carved stone lamb in its
center barred his way. Dimitri brushed the string of dusty cobwebs
from the lamb. He knew this must be the way to enter the manor, and
if Brock could figure it out, so could he.

Dimitri hung his lantern on a nail beside a
dusty, unlit torch and set to work. It took him far longer to
figure out the lock than he anticipated. Each of the legs had to be
turned in a particular pattern so the lamb appeared to be running.
When the pattern was correct, there was a soft click and a plume of
dirt and dust erupted in Dimitri’s face. He fanned it away, and,
cautiously, pushed the swiveling wall open.

Light poured in and nearly blinded him. He
blinked and found himself in a simple, yet cozy bedroom. He stepped
out from behind a fireplace so large he could nearly stand up in.
There was a luxurious four poster bed beside a large window to his
right, and a small sitting room just beyond. He took a few careful
steps forward, and heard the hidden door snap shut behind him, and
the stone legs of the lamb slide back into place. A feather duster
sat atop the mantle, and he brushed the dirt from his shoes and the
floor.

He entered the sitting room, and found no
one. He heard voices in the distance, and followed through the
private wash room to a small library.

One man sat behind a red oak desk, bent over
several books and documents. Another, older man stood over him,
also bent and pointing at the book in front of them.

“
These pages were removed
some time ago. It could not have been Taraniz,” said the older
man.

“
We have no way of knowing
if it was Kaytah who did so,” said the younger man. “I believe this
is wishful thinking, Father. If Taraniz had these documents, she
would have destroyed them by now.”

“
Then we must find
different evidence, shall we?” Dimitri walked into the room and
lowered his hood.

The younger man at the desk stood up
quickly, and the chair he sat in fell to the floor with a loud
crash. He reached for the hilt of his sword at his hip, but the
older man set a hand on his son’s arm, smiling at the would-be
intruder.

“
Dimitri!” Valar smiled.
The young man beside him let go of his sword, and looked
suspiciously from this father to the mysterious young man standing
before him. “Where are the others?” Valar asked,
worried.