The Baker's Boy (55 page)

Jack stepped from
the room and reset the bolt in its place. He walked over to where Crope had
stood and mimicked what he had seen the servant do. He placed his palms flat
against the stone and moved them against its cold surface. Nothing. Jack became
nervous: the longer he stood here, the more chance he had of being discovered.
In his frustration he beat the wall with his fist-and felt a tiny something
give way inside the stone. The wall to his side began to rumble back and an
entrance appeared. He was tempted to dash right in, but instead he carefully
felt the area of stone that he had pounded. He found what he was looking for:
barely there, nothing more than a minute bump in the stone ... the opening
mechanism. Jack stepped through the gap.

He emerged into a
large room. The first thing he needed to do was to close the wall so he could
look around undisturbed. Jack took a guess as to what side the closing mechanism
would be on and was rewarded when he felt the tiny jutting of stone. He pressed
on it and the wall swung back into place.

Jack surveyed the
room. It was well lit; several candles were still burning. There were a few
chairs and a large table with various items resting upon it. He saw there was a
door leading from the back of the room. He rushed over and put his ear to the
wood. He could hear nothing. He saw a lock and guessed it would not open. He
pushed it anyway, it did not give way. He thought he heard a movement on the
other side. "Melli," he called softly.

"Who's out
there?" came the faint reply. Jack was thrilled as he recognized her
voice.

"Melli, it's
me, Jack."

"Jack, is it
really you?" Her voice was louder now. "Yes, I've come to get you out
of here. Do you know if the key is kept in the room?"

"No, I don't
think so. Crope and Baralis keep their keys with them all the time."

Jack tested the
door. It was solid and the lock appeared strong. "Stand back, Melli."
He kicked the door as hard as he could, horrified by the large noise he made.
The door did not give way. He tried again and again, the door eventually began
to weaken. One final kick resulted in the splintering of wood and the lock gave
way.

Melli rushed forth
and flung her arms around Jack. "You did it! You did it." After a
moment she appeared to regain her composure and drew away from him. "I
thought you would be leagues away from here by now."

"I couldn't
leave knowing you were still locked up." Jack couldn't meet Melli's eyes.
He felt foolish and brushed back his hair nervously. He was suddenly very aware
of his appearance. What must he look like to her? He was dirty, his hair
unkempt, his clothes stained with blood. Heroes in stories somehow managed to
rescue maidens while looking like court dandies. Next time he went adventuring
he'd remember to bring a comb.

Melli's scrutiny
was making him uncomfortable. "We must make haste," he said, glad of
the opportunity to turn away. "Crope could return at any moment." He
moved quickly across the room and caused the wall to open. "Let's
go." Melli grabbed a small fruit knife from the table and then followed
him from the room.

Jack decided it
was better not to risk heading toward the way out. It would be well guarded and
they would have to walk past the guardroom. He led Melli toward the tunnel and
Castle Harvell. Once they reached the tunnel, he was relieved to see there was
no sign of light ahead. "Come on, let's hurry," he said, catching
Melli's hand in his.

Lord Maybor raised
his hand and then reined his horse to a stop. The men behind him slowed down
and came to a halt. He turned to face his company, "We will make camp here
for the night." The tone of his voice discouraged any argument and the men
set about making camp.

Maybor dismounted
his horse and walked off into the woods. Sometime later he heard the approach
of another; he was about to tell whoever it was to leave him be when he heard
the sound of his son's voice.

"Father."
Kedrac drew near. "What happened at the inn? Why are we heading back to
Harvell?" Maybor did not turn to look at his son; he stared into the
blackness ahead.

"Kedrac, I
will not speak of what passed between that woman and me. I will tell you that I
have good reason to believe Melliandra was abducted by Baralis' men and, if she
is still alive, is most probably being held somewhere not far from the
castle."

"Father, what
did the woman say to you? If it concerns my sister I demand to know."

"Leave me be,
Kedrac!" Such was the force in Maybor's voice that his son withdrew instantly.

Maybor was
surrounded by darkness. A cold wind blew through the trees and the sky was
without a moon. He stood and thought of his daughter, how he had loved her. It
was true he had forced the betrothal upon her, but he had never sought to harm
her. And now, to hear from that foul woman's mouth that his daughter had been
abused and flogged. He shook his head grimly and headed back to the camp. A
heavy rain began to fall and he was glad of its discomfort.

"Where does
this tunnel lead to?" hissed Melli. She was feeling a little afraid. She
hated being in the dark.

"It leads
toward the castle." Jack tugged on her arm, urging her forward. "Come
on, hurry. We don't want to be caught in here. Look, in the distance-that light
marks the end of the tunnel. Not much further now."

She waited for
Jack to take her hand again, but he didn't. She hid her disappointment by
breaking into a run.

It felt good to
Melli to stretch her legs properly after days of being confined in a small
space. Soon the tunnel gave way to a long rectangular room. Jack took her down
one of the many passages that led from it. Melli was about to speak, but he
stopped her, raising his finger to his lips. She would just have to trust that
he knew where he was going.

The route they
traveled seemed a maze of turnings and staircases. Jack lit a candle and Melli
was able to see a little of what she passed. It was not a pleasant sight: cold,
wet stone with pale mosses sprouting forth from the cracks. Melli kept her
distance from the strange growths; she shuddered at the idea of one of them
brushing against her.

Eventually they
reached a flight of stairs with a wooden door at the top and Jack bid her wait
while he checked if the way ahead was clear. Moments later, to Melli's great
relief, his head popped around the door and he beckoned her to join him. As she
walked through the door and into the huge, lowceilinged room, the smell of beer
and hops assailed her nostrils. She was in the beer cellar.

Melli knew the
beer cellar well. It had been a place that she had played in as a child,
running and hiding behind the huge brewing vats, rolling the barrels of ale. If
caught, she and her friends would taunt the master brewer and the cellarer-the
men would never dare take action against the children of nobles and would
content themselves with chasing them from the cellar. Melli remembered that
being chased was the best thing of all: frightening and exhilarating at the
same time there was the peril of being caught, but also the reassuring
knowledge that they were in no real danger. Melli sighed deeply; she wished she
had a similar reassurance now.

Jack led her up
another flight of stairs and into the kitchens. She knew that it would be
dangerous to walk through the castle at night: guards would be on patrol. They
stole through the kitchens, finding the shadows whenever they could. There were
a group of people in the servants' dining hall, but they all appeared merry
from drink and paid no attention to the passing of the two companions.

Once free of the
kitchens, they picked up their pace. They dashed down a corridor that Melli was
unfamiliar with, and then came to an abrupt stop by a small, low opening in the
wall.

"Come on,
we've got to crawl through here." Jack knelt down.

"I'm not
doing that. That hole isn't big enough." Jack ignored her comment and
began to force himself through the opening, feetfirst. "Where does it lead
to?"

"It leads to
a storeroom where the firewood is kept." Jack paused as he shifted his
body, allowing his shoulders to slip through. "I used to hide here when
Master Frallit was after me."

Melli bent down
and inspected the gap in the wall. She did not like the idea of going through
it feetfirst. It would be undignified and Jack might see her legs and
undergarments.

She would go
through headfirst. Melli lay on her belly and pushed with her arms and feet. It
was a tight squeeze and she wondered how Jack had done it so effortlessly. She
finally forced her way through and scrambled to her feet. Jack was looking at
her with amusement. "Let's go, then," she said sharply.

Jack was just
closing the door of the storeroom when someone called out: "Hey, you
there!" Melli could see a castle guard approaching in the distance. She
looked around judging their chances of escaping into the gardens. The guard was
quickly approaching them.

"Jack, come
here and don't say a word." Melli opened her arms. He was about to
protest, but she cut him short, "Now!" He came into her arms and
Melli raised her face to his and began to kiss him, slipping her wet tongue
between his lips. She felt the pressure of Jack's body against hers and his
hands encircled her waist. The guard drew close.

"What's all
this?" he demanded. Melli forced Jack's face down into her shoulder with a
push of her hand.

"I might ask
you the same, my man." Melli's voice was regal and commanding. "Be on
your way."

The guard
hesitated, trying to get a look at Jack's face. Melli shot him an indignant
glance. "I'm sorry to disturb you, lady," he said with a sly wink.

"You will be
sorrier if you do it again! Now go at once." Melli breathed a sigh of
relief as the guard withdrew. Her lips found Jack's once more and she began to
kiss him again, keeping an eye on the guard until he was out of sight.

Melli pulled away
from Jack. She could feel his reluctance to let her go. She was determined not
to betrav a simi-

Jar reluctance on
her part. Flushed and breathless, she turned from Jack and proceeded to walk
off into the grounds. Before long she heard the sound of him running to catch
up with her. "Where do we head for?" She could not risk looking at
him.

"The
woods," came his reply.

The terrain
leading to Toolay was hilly and mountainous. Like Rorn, most people who visited
the city did so by boat. Toolay was a city that lived off the sea; the cold
clean waters that surrounded it were teeming with fish and crustaceans. It was
said that once you tasted a fish from Toolay, you would never be satisfied with
a fish from anywhere else the rest of your life.

Besides its fish,
Toolay was known for its embroidery. While the men were off at sea for weeks at
a time, their wives would gather together in groups and work their fabulous
creations. Mythical creatures, ancient heroes, and legendary princesses were
designed with astonishing detail, painstakingly embroidered over months and
sometimes years. Rorn and Marls willingly paid a high price for such finery.
The fishwives of Toolay also did less grand commissions: cushion slips
embroidered with patterns, shawls stitched with flowers. It was these more
humble works that were in greatest demand. Many a young maiden about to be wed
would dream of one day owning a shawl from Toolay.

Tawl and Nabber
crested a rise and caught their first sight of the city. Perched perilously
near to the cliff's edge, Toolay looked as if it were about to fall into the
very ocean that provided its livelihood. The city was much smaller than Rorn,
the buildings less grand. No marble or spires, just low, modest buildings kept
white by the constant blast of sea and sand.

Tawl had never
been to Toolay before, and he felt the familiar excitement chum in the pit of
his stomach. He always experienced a mixture of worry and wonder whenever he
visited a city for the first time. "Come on, Nabber," he called,
racing down the hillside. "If we rush we will make it before noon."
Nabber was quick to catch up, and before long they found themselves struggling
for breath at the bottom of the hill. Tawl felt like he needed a moment to
catch his breath, but the boy was off, heading toward the next slope.

"Hey,
Tawl!" he cried. "You're not going to let a young boy beat you to the
city, are you?" Tawl had little choice but to run after him.

A few hours later,
their muscles sore and aching, the two companions approached the city. As they
drew near, the wind brought the odor of fish to their nostrils; the men of
Toolay not only caught fish, they also smoked and dried it. Huge straw mats
were spread with single layers of fish and left in the sun to dry. Tawl and the
boy passed many of these mats, each one watched over by a small child or a
guard goose.

The city itself
was bustling with life: a huge open market entirely blocked the street.
Stallholders stood beside their brightly colored tents and called their wares:

"Ribbons,
posies, tokens for your lady love."

"Fish, fish,
biggest lobsters ever to see land."

"Peppers,
spices imported all the way from exotic Tyro."

"Apples,
cheap apples, only slightly bruised. If your young uns don't like the look of
'em, they'll make a lovely pie."

Tawl watched and
listened, admiring the goods, and deciding what food he would buy for the boy
as a treat.

He had been
constantly surprised by Nabber since he'd allowed the boy to join him. The boy
had tireless energy; he was up before Tawl in the morning, he raced ahead of
him all of the day, and wanted to talk through all of the night. Nabber wanted
to know the stories of the great heroes, but only liked the tales where the
adventurer found stashes of gold and jewels. The tales of the heroes who died
penniless, and the ones who gave away their money to the poor, just caused
Nabber to shake his head in bafflement.