The Tale of Mally Biddle (11 page)

“No.”

Mally’s hands shook as she lowered her glass. She ate in s
ilence with Galen watching out the window. But she was glad for his company. For some reason, the woman five tables away made her nervous. Mally kept shooting furtive glances at her. The woman hardly moved except for raising the mug to sip from it. Her face was hard and chiseled. Deeply set wrinkles ran across her face and a large hooked nose stood out prominently. Steely grey hair flowed from her head past her hunched shoulders. Her movements were stiff, and Mally thought her hands more closely resembled claws. At her side was a twisted, gnarled walking stick.

Suddenly, the inn’s door swung open letting a burst of cold air whistle through. Ivan closed the door and shook raindrops from his red cloak as he hurried to Mally’s table. Mally noticed that the woman’s eyes followed his progress.

“You’ve eaten? Good.” There was a breathlessness about Ivan. Nervous energy radiated from him. “We should get going.”

Mally stood up too quickly, making her chair wobble.

“You’ll tell me how it goes?” asked Galen as Mally caught her chair.

Ivan nodded. Galen smiled at her in what Mally thought was a ‘you’ll be fine’ sort of way, but the tenseness around his mouth gave his anxiety away. She nodded jerkily and was steered to the door. The next thing she knew, the Lone Candle’s door had shut and she stood shivering in the rain.

“How far away is the castle?” she asked, pulling up her hood and slinging her satchel over her shoulder. She was only taking a few things with her to the castle. Galen would keep the rest in the inn. It wouldn’t make sense for a poor orphan to have so many belongings.

“Not far. Fifteen minutes or so.”

They set off at a brisk pace, their breath rising in vapor from their mouths. Mally clutched her cloak closer about her and bowed her head against the stinging rain. After a short walk—though Mally’s fingers were numb with cold—they stopped, and looking up, Mally realized why.

They stood before a large iron gate, nearly twenty feet tall. On either side of the gate ran a stone wall similar to the one bordering the city. The gate was open and on the other side of it stood a small stone house. Mally was sure it could only contain one room. Si
tting on a wooden bench under the shelter of the roof sat a knight. The moment Ivan and Mally stepped through the gate, the knight rose and addressed them in a loud voice.

“Name?”

“Ivan Finley, escorting Miss Mallory Biddle into the castle,” answered Ivan with a clear ringing voice.

“Business?” the knight grunted through the rain.

“Miss Biddle is a new servant.”

“Servant?” snorted the knight, peering at Mally with bleary eyes. “Don’t we have enough o’ them?”

Ivan didn’t reply, but his lips tightened into a thin line.

“A’ right,” said the knight, waving them through. “Go in.”

11
Lita Stump

The castle stood tall and powerful. Mally stared up at it, sim
ply trying to take it all in. Rain lashed at the tall windows and the many towers stood out menacingly against the dark sky. It was huge, much bigger than she had expected. How would she ever find her way around it?

Ivan tugged at her elbow and led her down the gravel road. Garden paths branched off on each side and Mally spotted statue after statue, fountain after fountain through the openings of hedges or the gaps between rose bushes. Mally felt like she was in a mi
niature city. With each step the great oak doors of the castle loomed closer. It was like she was walking toward a fat dragon who, at any moment, would open his jaws and devour her whole. Ivan knocked on the large doors and a second later, a man appeared—Mally was relieved that he wasn’t a knight. After asking for their names and nodding, he stepped aside and allowed them in.

Mally inhaled a deep shaky breath and lowered her hood. The great hall was gigantic. Forty feet above their heads an enormous glass chandelier dangled, reflecting the light from the numerous candelabras around the hall. A huge marble staircase gently curved upward, opening onto a balcony that ran along the walls. Banisters gleamed with a high shine. Mally glanced down and saw her pale, wet reflection peer up at her from a highly waxed marble floor. Mally felt like a stray dog, soon to be reprimanded and banished from such magnificence, for dripping water on such a floor. She became extremely aware of the patches in her cloak and the dul
lness of her shoes.

“We’ve been expecting you. If you’ll follow me, I shall show you your room,” said the servant politely.

Mally swallowed with difficulty and looked at Ivan, wishing feverishly that she had never agreed to this. Suddenly all of Galen’s advice seemed completely useless.

“You’ll see me later,” Ivan said in a soothing tone. “You’ll be fine.”

Mally wetted her lips, nodded her head in a jerky fashion, took a firm grasp of her satchel, and followed the man up the large staircase, twisting her fingers as she went. The corridors weren’t empty, but they weren’t crowded either. Mally immediately noticed that her guide walked on the right-hand side of the corridor. They passed a few knights, who paid them little to no attention, and some servants who watched them go by with curiosity. On the third floor, down a rather unappealing corridor of thick oil paintings, the servant stopped and opened a plain wooden door.

“Your quarters.”

Mally caught a glimpse of three beds, a tiny fireplace, and a small writing desk, all crammed together.

“Do I share with others?”

“Yes,” he answered.

Mally placed her satchel next to one of the beds.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what my duties are,” Mally said nervously.

The servant smiled and Mally calmed a little.

“What was your name again?” he asked, his professional tone dropping.

“Mally Biddle.”

“Mally, Lita Stump and Gerda Higgs sleep here too—they’re nice and helpful. My name’s Nathan Cobbs, by the way.”  He looked like he was in his early thirties. “I’ll take you to Meriyal Boyd. She oversees the servants. She’ll want to speak to you.”

Mally recognized the name and gratefully followed Nathan down a different corridor lined with statues, to another with stained glass windows, to another with squat sitting chairs.

“Mr. Cobbs—”

“It’s Nathan,” said Nathan with a smile.

“How many corridors are there?” Mally asked as they started climbing a staircase.

Nathan smirked over his shoulder at her.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“How am I going to keep from getting lost?” she exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, I used to always end up in the armory when I was trying to get to the drawing room when I first came here. You’ll get used to it.”

Mally nodded even though she didn’t believe him. She was surprised that there weren’t more servants or knights.

“I thought the castle would be busier,” Mally admitted.

“We usually keep to the servant passages.”

“
Servant
passages? You mean there are more?”

“There are always more,” Nathan laughed. “We usually use the servant passages as a short cut to other parts of the castle. Oh, there she is!”

They had reached the landing at the top of the stairs. A few women dressed in simple yet uniform-like attire were congregated by a large tapestry of a smiling maiden standing by a stream.

“Meriyal,” Nathan called and a blocky sort of woman with gray hair turned to them. “I have Miss Mally Biddle.”

“What’s that? Biddle? Ah, yes,” Meriyal nodded. Her piercing eyes raked down Mally’s figure and Mally blushed. Even though these were servants, Mally felt intimidated. She was even more ashamed of her wet and frayed dress. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“I’ve shown her room,” said Nathan.

“Good. If you’d follow me, Mally, dear …”

Meriyal led Mally through even more corridors, showing her certain rooms that she would be dealing with in the near future. Her job at the moment (but it was sure to change) was dusting.

“I’ll have you work on the fourth floor for now, dear,” she said.

Even though Mally was a good head taller, she was having a hard time keeping up with Meriyal. Her short legs rushed along in a blur and she kept calling her ‘dear’ and fussing about her worn cloak. Mally had the distinct impression of an energetic and rather forceful aunt.

“I’ll need you to be fitted for your uniform, we can do that in the morning.” Meriyal suddenly peered sternly at Mally. “Ivan Finley vouched for you, so I shouldn’t be expecting any trouble, should I?”

“No, ma’am,” Mally assured her quickly.

Meriyal nodded firmly.

“Good. I know you haven’t had the sort of experience a castle demands, but you’ll learn fast. I won’t throw you amongst nobility yet—we still have time before the Winter Ball.”

As they walked, Meriyal often stopped next to certain statues or paintings or tapestries that concealed the entrances to hidden passages. These, Meriyal explained, were the servant passages. When Mally started to look more and more alarmed by the number of servant passages Meriyal was pointing out, she assured Mally she shouldn’t fret.

“You will learn them in time,” she said. “The rest of us are here to help, if you get in a pinch. I myself don’t know all of the servant passages—I stumbled on a new one on the west wing just a month ago.

“And on that note, there are a few things I should tell you.” Meriyal turned to Mally, her eyes suddenly hard, her tone serious. They were quite alone near a nook on a deserted corridor. “The servant passages are secret and we plan on keeping them that way. His Majesty and the knights know they exist but not where they are. Mind you, I don’t think they would care if they
did
know where they are. But the person I’m concerned about is Sir Illius Molick.”

“Why does it matter if he knows?” Mally asked.

Meriyal smiled in a mean sort of way.

“Sir Illius thinks he owns this castle. It galls him to no end that there are sections hidden from him. He would never use them, of course, but to have something out of his reach …” Meriyal’s smile broadened. “Let’s just say I find this to be one of the few battles that I can fight against him … and I’m winning.”

Mally found herself smiling at that.

“Use the servant passages but always have a wary eye. No one—not a guest, not a knight—can see you using them. Molick’s power of intimidation is something to behold.”

Mally nodded quickly.

“I’ll give you two words of advice,” Meriyal continued briskly. “One: keep to the servant passages as much as possible; and two: it’s best to have company when you run into a knight.”

Mally spent the rest of the morning dusting a sitting room. The rain hadn’t stopped; it had intensified. Mally could barely see out the windows. She had to light an extra handful of candles to shed light on her work.

She was standing on tiptoe, trying to reach the top shelf of a very tall bookshelf. She bit her lip and hopped up and down, swishing her dust feather about ridiculously.

“Maybe you should try a chair.”

Mally gasped, dropped her feather, and spun around. A girl with blonde hair tied in a long braid stood in the doorway, her hands clasped behind her back.

“I thought about that,” Mally admitted as the girl walked fa
rther into the room, “but I worried about being seen.”

“That’s why you have a look-out,” the girl explained. She stopped in front of Mally and jutted out a hand. “My name’s Lita. Lita Stump.”

“I’m Mally Biddle. I believe we’re sharing rooms,” she added as the name registered in her brain.

“Nathan told me. I met him on the way here—thought I’d i
ntroduce myself.”

She had light brown eyes and was slightly shorter than Mally, though very near her age.

“I can be your look-out, if you’d like,” Lita said suddenly.

“Thanks.”

Mally picked up her dust feather and dragged a handsome red chair close to the bookshelf. She looked over her shoulder to see Lita standing nonchalantly by the halfway open door, humming contentedly to herself. Her hands were once more clasped behind her back and she turned her head ever so slightly to glance at Mally and winked.

Mally took that as “all’s clear” and hoisted herself onto the chair. Wobbling slightly, she was now eye-level with the top shelf and quickly went to work. Hardly a minute later, a small cough came from the door, and Mally spun around in the chair so fast she nearly fell off it. Lita coughed again and shot a sharp glance at Mally.

Panicking, Mally leapt from the chair like a frog and hastily pushed it back into place. She straightened and flicked a curl out of her eye. Lita stood very still by the half-open door and Mally heard voices issuing from the corridor. They were quite loud and one laughed suddenly. Curious, Mally walked across the room to stand behind the rigid Lita. Looking over Lita’s shoulder, Mally spotted two knights walking away from them down the corridor. One wore a red hat with a feather and the other was much broader in the shoulders.

“Sir Brian Rendle and Sir Anon Haskin,” Lita whispered to Mally. As Mally watched another knight joined the two. This one was tall and thin with an unpleasantly drawn, ghoul-like face. Lita stiffened at the sight of the new knight and, very slowly, closed the door.

“Who was that?” asked Mally, taking in the sudden paleness of Lita’s face.

“Sir Alexander Vinsus. You don’t want to go anywhere near him,” said Lita.

Mally silently wondered if there were any knights that she
would
want to go near. Then she asked, “Sir Brian Rendle, was he the one with the hat?”

Lita nodded.

“Why? Do you know him?”

“No,” said Mally and that was true. She didn’t
know
the man who she suspected had given her mother gold.

Lita worked with Mally for the rest of the day. When Mally asked her if she would get into trouble for ignoring her own duties, Lita replied, “Let them dare. I’ll just remind them who scrubbed all the statues on the west and north wings when no one else would. And anyway, I finished folding the sheets and Meriyal won’t mind me showing you around.” Lita went on to explain that though the servants were given certain jobs to do on a regular basis, there was always the understanding that duties were flexible.

“If someone gets sick and can’t wash the windows they always wash, then someone else will do that job. And the knights like to keep us busy. Sometimes I think they pick the worst time to have us shine their armor on purpose,” Lita explained. “It’s not ir
ksome—well, not terribly. You’ll be hoping someone gives you something else to do when you’re supposed to clean windows or”—she shuddered—“the chandeliers.”

Lita was afraid of heights. Throughout the rest of the day, Ma
lly also learned that Lita had just turned eighteen last month, had been in the castle for a year, enjoyed sneaking into the kitchen to annoy the cook, and preferred walking down the main corridors over the servant passages.

“They’re so dreary,” she said with aversion. “No windows, hardly any candle brackets, and so narrow. They give me the creeps.”

“But what about the knights?” asked Mally.

“Oh, I don’t go
looking
for them, if that’s what you mean. No one in their right mind would go
looking
for them.”

“But what do you do when you run into one? Do they not like the servants using the corridors?”

Lita gave a short dry laugh.

“They wouldn’t care if we hopped up and down on one foot. Most of them just want their fires made, their clothes washed, and their food cooked. Of course none of them are going to do any of those things themselves so they need us. Most of the servants like using the passages to keep out of their way.” Lita wrinkled her nose. “And it’s true that I’d rather be cornered by a wild boar than run into
certain
knights,” she said, dropping her voice.