The Baker's Boy (56 page)

Nabber had
admitted taking more than money from the bodies by the roadside. From his pack
he had produced a large, notched knife. Tawl had offered to teach the boy how
to use it to defend himself. Nabber had declined the offer, assuring him that
there wasn't much he didn't know about the blade. Seeing the look of disbelief
on Tawl's face, the boy performed several tricks of precision and dexterity
with the knife, effectively dispelling any doubts the knight had.

Tawl found one
market stall that sold hot pastries filled with crabmeat. He purchased two of
the delicious smelling items. The stallkeeper threw in a third for free.
"You are most generous, madam." Tawl gave a slight bow.

"It's my
pleasure, sir," replied the woman. "You are from out of town, that
much is obvious by your golden hair, and the people of Toolay have ever
welcomed travelers."

The woman gave him
a kindly smile. Tawl thanked her and left.

He turned about,
ready to hand the pastry to Nabber, but the boy was nowhere in sight. He looked
around for a while and found no sign of him. Tawl resigned himself to the fact
that the boy must have decided to go his own way once he was in the city. It
was probably for the best. The boy would be better off with people around him
and there would be regular shelter and plenty of food. Tawl climbed on top of a
broad wall and sat eating the pastries. He found he had no appetite for the
third one and wrapped it in a cloth, saving it for later.

He was half dozing
in the warm noon sun when he felt a sharp knock to his temple. He opened his eyes
to find the boy grinning up at him, poised to throw another stone.

"Caught you
sleeping, didn't I?" Tawl jumped down off the wall and grabbed the boy by
his ear.

"What do you
think you were doing by wandering off on your own? You might never have found
me again." Nabber struggled free of the grip. "I kept an eye to
you."

"What were
you doing?"

"A little bit
of this, a little bit of that. You know ... prospecting."

"All
right." Tawl sighed heavily. "What have you got?"

"Plenty, the
pickings are rich in Toolay, I can tell you. People walking this market have
got more money than's good for 'em. I just creamed a bit off the top-the
surplus, like."

"How
much?" demanded Tawl.

"I don't see
that you're entitled to know that, my friend." The boy's smug smile quickly
changed as Tawl grabbed the back of his hair.

"Look here,
friend, as long as you are traveling with me I'm in charge."

"All right,
all right, let go then." The boy made a dignified show of smoothing his
hair back in place. "Seems as you're insisting, I'll show you."
Nabber opened his pack and let Tawl peer into it; there were plenty of gold and
silver coins and a few bracelets and rings.

Tawl groaned.
"I hope you were careful, the penalty for pickpocketing in Toolay is
castration." Tawl had no idea of the real penalty-he just wanted to come
up with something that sounded painful enough to put the boy off.

"Telling me
to be careful is like telling the fish how to swim. Besides, I heard the
penalty was a swift lashing." The boy grinned. "Anyway, what do you
propose we do with all this loot?" .

"I propose we
take a room for a night at a discreet inn, enjoy a simple midday meal, and then
go and purchase two horses. We'll also need saddles and grain and some more dry
food."

"Sounds good
to me. Just one thing, though. I can't stand any more of those sea
biscuits--I'm too young to lose my teeth."

"Very well,
we'll buy some dried fish instead." It was the boy's turn to groan. Tawl
continued, a twinkle in his eye. "No use protesting, Nabber, there isn't
anything better for you than dried fish."

They made their
way through the town. Tawl asked an old flower-seller the name of a decent inn.
She looked rather affronted at the question. "Sir, all the inns of Toolay
are decent. For the likes of travelers such as yourselves, the Shrimp Coddler
will suffice."

"Ma'am, where
is the Shrimp Coddler to be found?"

"Why, on the
dock road of course, where all the inns are." She was off, toddling down
the street before she could be asked where the dock road was.

"We'll have
to find it on our own. Come on."

"Tawl, I was
just wondering. Do you think we'll have enough money to buy two fine horses? I
could always do a spot more prospecting."

"We won't
need two fine horses, Nabber. One fine horse will be enough for me, and you can
ride a pony."

"A pony! I
haven't worked my fingers to the bone, putting myself at risk, for a
pony."

"Have you
ever ridden before?"

"Well, no,
but..."

"You will
ride a pony and that's final."

They eventually
found the dock road. It was a hive of activity; men were gaming in the streets,
prostitutes plied their trade, and dock workers carried large crates heavy with
fish to warehouses. A distance up the road Tawl spied a brightly colored sign
emblazoned with depictions of shrimp. They went inside. Tawl was pleasantly
surprised; the inn was clean and well appointed. The decor consisted of
polished wood and brass, vying with pictures of shrimp and shrimping. A
demurely dressed girl approached.

"How can I
help you gentlemen?" She curtsied to Tawl and smiled at Nabber.

"I'd like a
room for the night for me and my boy, and for now we'd like some food. What is
good here?"

"Why, the
coddled shrimp, of course. I'll bring you a bowl of them and some nice shrimp
pie, too. Anything else?"

"Don't you do
anything beside shrimp?" asked Nabber. Tawl swiftly kicked his shin.

"The shrimp
will be fine. I'll take a mug of ale." Tawl smiled slyly. "Water for
the boy."

Once they had
finished their meal, they went off in search of a horse trader. They found one
not far from the dock road. As they walked in a bell rang, and a man jumped up,
obviously surprised.

"We need to
buy a horse and a pony."

"Oh my, this
is unexpected. Folks around here don't have much call for horses." The man
peered closely at them, as if he were a little shortsighted.

"Have you any
to sell?"

"Sell, why
yes, of course. I am a horse dealer. Follow me." He led them to the
stables at the back; most of the stalls were empty. "You'll be wanting a
stallion, I presume, sir."

"I will take
the best of what you have."

"I do have a
fine stallion, sir, once owned by Lord Flayharkel himself . . ." The man
droned on but Tawl was not listening; he had spied a beautiful chestnut mare.
He went over to get a better look at her. Her legs were lean and powerful, her
flank amply muscled. Her coat needed some grooming but was not in bad
condition. When the man realized Tawl's interest, he quickly moved in.
"Oh, sir, I see you have a fine eye. A beautiful mare, once owned by the
illustrious Lady Daranda." Tawl ignored what he was saying-horse traders
were notorious liars.

"How
much?"

"Ten
golds." Tawl turned and walked away. "Eight golds," the man
cried.

"Seven golds
and throw in a pony for the boy."

"I couldn't
possibly, I might as well give it away. I paid twice that for it."

"Take it or
leave it." Tawl took a gamble. "You are not the only horse merchant
in town."

"Very well,
you have a deal, though you rob the food off my plate."

"Good. I will
need two saddles and some grain. I will pay you when I pick them up in the
morning. Good day, sir."

"Well, Grift,
I have to admit there's more truth in what you say than I thought."

"What d'you
mean, Bodger?"

"Well,
remember what you were saying about high and mighty ladies liking a bit of
rough?"

"Aye,
Bodger."

"Well, I saw
it with my own eyes. Just the other night I was patrolling the grounds. I heard
a bit of noise coming from the direction of the woodshed. Well, I goes over
there to investigate, and what do I see."

"What did you
see, Bodger?"

"Only a
couple going at it."

"Rollickin'?"

"Just about.
So, I moves closer and it's some fine lady with a right rough type. She tells
me to hop along quickish."

"Who was the
lady, Bodger?"

"Well, I
couldn't be sure, Grift, but it looked like Lord Maybor's daughter, the Lady
Melliandra."

"Well, I'll
be damned! You know she's supposed to have run off." Bodger looked blank,
so Grift continued, "Who do you think the Royal Guard have been looking
for all this time? Of course the official version is that she's sick with a
fever, but I don't believe that for a minute. Did you get a look at who she was
with?"

"No, Grift,
his head was buried in her shoulder the whole time."

"My, my,
my." Grift took a deep drink from his cup. "I got lucky myself last
night, Bodger."

"Oh, really,
Grift. Who was the fortunate wench?"

"Old widow
Harpit. She finally succumbed to my charms."

"I saw the
Widow Harpit at dinner last night, Grift. She looked as drunk as a newt."

"Well, she
sobered up considerably by the time I got through with her." The two men
laughed raucously and downed more ale.

"Seems like
quite a few people were a-tumblin last night, Grift. Even Prince Kylock was
doing some courtin'."

"Oh,
aye?"

"I saw him
taking a young girl to his room. Way after midnight it was."

"Who was the
girl, Bodger?"

"Findra the
tablemaid."

Grift sucked in
his breath. "I saw Findra this morning, Bodger. Her face is badly bruised
and her right arm's been broken."

"That's
funny, Grift. She looked fine to me last night."

Both men downed
the rest of their ale in silence. They both knew better than to say any more.

Baralis was on his
way to see the queen. He walked noiselessly down the castle corridors, leaving
the dust undisturbed in his wake. His skin was pale and drawn, and beneath his
cloak his hands curled up like those of an old women.

When he had first
heard of the girl's escape he had been wild with fury, and Crope and the
mercenaries were afraid to come near him. He had spent the whole night
searching the tunnels and passageways, but the labyrinth beneath the castle was
too complex and extensive for any one man to cover. Why, he himself could only
guess where some of the passages led. He knew there were places that even he
could not gain access to: dark, furtive passageways and slyly cloaked rooms,
built for purposes long forgotten, their contents untouched for centuries.

Once it had become
obvious they would find neither the, girl nor the boy that night, Baralis
gradually became calm. Rage was a useful but dangerous emotion-logic and
cunning were lost to brute force.

Baralis began to
think more clearly. There must be a way for him to locate the girl before the
Royal Guard found her. There was some comfort to be gained in the fact that at
least Maybor and his men were conveniently out of the way in the Eastlands.

He would still
have to be more discreet, though; a band of mercenaries roaming the woods would
surely catch the eye of the Royal Guard. He would order the mercenaries to keep
a low profile. He would rely upon his own resources to hunt down the girl.

They would not
have gone far, he thought. The weather had been particularly foul these past
days and incessant rain and high winds were not the ideal conditions for
travel.

When he found the
girl this time, he would take no chances that she escaped again.

Baralis reached
the queen's chamber and was bid enter. The queen came forward, her jewels
dazzling in the candle light. She inclined her head graciously but made no move
to offer her hand. "Ah, Lord Baralis, I am pleased you could come at such
short notice." The queen tried to be more civil to him of late; however,
she could never quite disguise her distaste.

"I am always
at Your Highness' service." Baralis bowed, observing the rules of the
game. The queen was silent and so he was forced to speak again. "Tell me,
Your Highness, what is required of me. Surely the king has enough medicine for
the time being?"

"You know to
the exact drop how much medicine is left, Lord Baralis, since you mete it out
with such meticulous precision." The queen elegantly arched her eyebrow.
"I am no fool, sir. I have observed that the medicine you last gave me is
weaker than the initial dose." Baralis raised his hand to protest, but the
queen continued, "Nay, sir, do not deny it. That is not the reason why I
brought you here."

"What exactly
did you bring me here for, Your Highness?" There was a hint of impatience
in Baralis' voice. He did not care for her tone of subtle reprimand.

"I wonder if
you can help me, Lord Baralis." The queen spoke with studied innocence.
"Something rather worrying has reached my ears. It appears that the Royal
Guard have spotted mercenaries in the woods and the commander of the guard has
asked if I desire the disposal of these men. I said to him that if the
mercenaries were not gone by the morrow, then the guard could go ahead and
dispatch them." The queen drew her lips back in the tiniest of smiles.
"Tell me, Lord Baralis, did I do the right thing?"

"Your
Highness is most wise." Baralis had little choice but to nod his approval.
He was well aware that the queen's speech was to warn him to withdraw his men.
"I trust Your Highness realizes that time is running out on our little
wager?"

"Lord
Baralis, you have no need to remind me. Our wager has been in my thoughts
constantly. My confidence is high that the girl will be found within the next
few days. For some strange reason I believe that she may be in the very woods
that the mercenaries were searching this morning."