The Tale of Mally Biddle (25 page)

No windows adorned the sides of the staircase, so the inky blackness of the long stairwell unnerved her to no end. Cursing herself for not bringing a candle, Mally ran her hand down the wall to her right, trying to find one of the numerous candles so that she could safely travel down the steps.

The hairs on the back of her neck raised sharply just as a strong pressure pushed against her back. With a startled gasp, she tumbled down the stairs, one after the other, until she landed in a painful heap, sprawled at the foot of the staircase.

She didn’t move. She didn’t wake up.

26
Kettle's Example

“Fell down the stairs. Lucky I was heading down for a cup’ a.”

“Nasty fall. Could have broken her neck.”

The hushed voices sounded as if they were underwater. Mally heard the words, but they didn’t make sense to her groggy mind. Her eyelids were glued together and her head throbbed as if som
eone was knocking on her skull.

Slowly, painfully, she opened her eyes. She was in the sic
kroom, lying on a bed. It was dark; a few candles around her bed had been lit and in the light sat two women: a short, blocky one and a tallish one. Neither woman had noticed that Mally was awake, for they continued to sit hunched over, whispering to each other in the small pool of light.

“I always thought those stairs were tricky—narrow, cramped,” the short woman was saying and Mally recognized the voice and sharp profile: Meriyal. “I’m surprised more people haven’t tripped before now.”

Mally could see the other woman nodding her agreement. A soft swishing of fabric, and another woman appeared beside the other two.

“Here,” said Gladys, passing two glasses of some drink to Me
riyal and the other woman.

Mally rose slowly onto her elbows and a groan escaped her lips.

All three women gasped and turned to her.

“Oh, dear, are you all right?” Meriyal asked, leaning forward. “You had a nasty fall.”

“I think I’m okay,” Mally replied even though she felt like she’d been beaten with a stick.

Gladys snorted.

“Falling down stairs.
Stairs!
” Gladys fussed like an angry hen. “You’re just as bad as Gerda! I’m surprised you don’t have any broken bones!”

“What were you doing in the northwest wing?” And Mally f
inally recognized the third woman’s voice just as the candlelight played upon her tired face—Nanette.

“The bell rang,” Mally answered.

“For the northwest wing?” Nanette frowned, glancing at Meriyal.

“But there are no occupied rooms on that wing,” Meriyal told Mally, sounding increasingly confused. “It’s the guest wing. You know that.”

“The bell rang,” Mally repeated, feeling increasingly stupid. Why hadn’t she taken Lita with her? Why did she have to be so curious?

“You should lay back down,” said Nanette, tersely.

Mally happily obeyed. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could support her weight on her elbows. Falling back onto the pillows, she let out a grateful sigh.

“You certainly have the bad luck,” Gladys observed, hands on hips. “I know I make for good company, but this is getting ridic
ulous.”

Mally smiled weakly as Meriyal snorted in amusement.

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t trip,” said Mally.

Nanette, Meriyal and Gladys blinked at her in surprise.

“You didn’t?”

“No. Someone pushed me.”

“Who?” Gladys gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.

“Who else?” Mally answered darkly. “Bayard.”

Gladys ordered Mally to stay in the sickroom for the rest of the day. Mally didn’t complain. She was bruised, sore and sick to her stomach.
He had tried to kill her.
Mally figured that the first time he had hurt her, he’d just intended to scare her … but this time … this time he’d meant to kill her. And he probably would have headed down the stairs to see if she was in fact dead, but the sound of Nanette’s approaching footsteps must have startled him.

After she had finished the breakfast Gladys had brought her, Mally was visited by a very panicked Lita, Gerda, and Nathan.

“We’ve just heard!” Lita cried, sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing Mally’s hand. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Mally responded truthfully.

“What happened?” Nathan asked. “Meriyal and Nanette were going on about someone pushing you.”

Mally nodded and Lita gasped. Gerda inhaled sharply, color draining rapidly from her face.

“Dear Lenzar!
Who?
”

“Bayard, of course,” Mally answered, looking at Lita as if this was obvious.

Gerda frowned and glanced at Nathan who mirrored her actions.

“It couldn’t have been Bayard, Mally,” said Gerda.

“What are you talking about? Of course it was Bayard,” Mally argued, confused that Gerda didn’t believe her. “He hates me.”

Gerda licked her lips nervously and glanced at Nathan again.

“That I agree with, but he rang for me last night. Wanted his fire tended,” Gerda explained. “When I realized it was Bayard calling, I asked Nathan to come with me.” Gerda swallowed.

Nathan took hold of Gerda’s hand.

But Mally wasn’t swayed.

“So he got me after the two of you left,” she pressed.

“Do you remember what time it was when you were called?” Gerda asked.

Mally was about to say no when she remembered hearing the clock toll the hour on her way to the west wing. “It was a little before three.”

“I managed to get out of Bayard’s room right before that. I heard the chimes when I closed his door.”

Mally sat stunned as this information repeated itself in her brain. Bayard had been with Gerda and Nathan when Mally’s bell had summoned her. Bayard couldn’t have been in the guest wing—he was in his chambers in the northeast wing.

“But—but who else was it, then?” Mally asked, looking at each of her companions in turn.

“You’re sure you were pushed?” Lita asked carefully.

“
Yes!
” Mally insisted.

There was a rather pronounced silence as Gerda and Nathan shifted uncomfortably. Finally, they wished her a speedy recovery and excused themselves. Lita stayed seated on the bed.

“Who was it then?” Lita asked quietly once they were alone.

“I don’t know,” Mally fumed, feeling her stomach churn. She had been so sure it was Bayard. Who else would want to kill her? Molick? But pushing someone down a dark staircase didn’t seem like his style.

“Do you think whoever it was—” Lita swallowed and lowered her voice, “do you think they suspect?”

Mally’s eyes widened.

“Possibly.” She forced the word out of her suddenly dry throat. “But I don’t see how. And if they did, why not tell Molick? If he knew, I’d be in the dungeons instead of here.”

Lita’s pale eyes were fearful as they scanned the empty room.

***

When Mally was allowed to leave the sickroom the next day, she walked down the halls staring at everyone she passed. Som
eone had pushed her. Someone had known that ringing
that
bell would call
her
and that she would have to travel down
that
staircase.

Someone had gone through a lot of trouble.

Mally had been given the job of carrying washed sheets back to their designated chambers. Lita had volunteered to help.

“You’ve kept the man long enough, Illius.”

Mally and Lita stopped walking. They stood right outside King Salir’s Chamber, his sheets in their arms. The heavy doors to the chamber were cracked open. Shooting a curious glance at Lita, Mally inched a little closer and inclined her ear.

“I’ll keep him as long as I want,” came Molick’s nasty reply.

“You need to scare him some more?” King Salir sounded amused. “I doubt that man will ever go near the tower again.”

Mally’s eyes widened and she stared at Lita whose mouth was open. Was His Majesty talking about
Bob
? Was he … could he possibly be …
arguing
for his release? Mally stepped closer as Molick said, “True. I’ve questioned him extensively. He isn’t a rebel.” He sounded highly disappointed.

“You will catch them in time.”

“I could catch them now if I had more knights,” Molick replied with a hint of insistence.

“More knights? If you feel you need more you can take some of the parameter guards—”

“My knights would be too spread out!” Molick argued. “Those must stay on the walls!”

“You have more than enough knights, Illius,” King Salir said patiently, as if speaking to a spoiled child. “There is no need to have more.”

“There is always need for more!” Molick snapped heatedly. “I expect you to be grateful that my knights have been keeping this castle safe from those mongrels!”

“I have never been ungrateful for your abundant skills. And I have every belief that you will catch those that anger you so.”

Mally stumbled backwards in haste as Molick’s loud footsteps reached the doors. They swung open violently; Mally doubted that Molick noticed them at all as he stormed past them down the hall.

“Ah, my sheets have arrived,” said King Salir pleasantly, catc
hing sight of Mally and Lita standing before the open doors.

The first thing Mally did after making King Salir’s bed was find Meriyal. Lita rushed after her at a jog, asking why she was in such a hurry, but Mally ignored her. It was lunch time for the servants and Mally told Lita to save her a place on the bench as she weaved through the Servants’ Chamber, looking for Meriyal.

When she spotted her, she hovered at her shoulder until she had finished speaking to Joan.

“We need to talk,” Mally whispered.

Meriyal raised her eyebrows before walking into the storage room. The moment Meriyal had shut the door, Mally bounded fo
rward in jubilation.

“Bob is going to be released!”

Meriyal stared in surprise.

“Where did you learn this?”

“From His Majesty. I just overheard him telling Molick to let Bob go.” Mally was so ecstatic that she was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Do you know when this will happen?” Meriyal asked.

Mally paused in her bouncing, her face falling slightly.

“No,” she admitted.

“Don’t worry. I’ll check on him again tonight. Let’s both hope his cell is empty!”

***

Mally could hardly sleep, she was so anxious about Bob. Molick didn’t seem happy about being told what to do. Would he release him, but hurt him? Or would he kill him and make more room in the dungeons that way? Would he just ignore the king?

Not able to stand the tension any longer, Mally rose much ea
rlier than Lita and Gerda and slipped down to Archie’s kitchen. He and Rosa were already up, cooking breakfast, and Mally kept herself preoccupied by sipping tea and beating eggs. Just before it was time for the other servants to rise, the kitchen door opened and an exhausted Meriyal, Mildred, and Evelyn entered. Rosa rushed to get them tea and Mally stood to give one of them a chair.

“Got a scone there, Archie?” Evelyn asked in her usual moody voice.

“Currant or apricot?” Archie asked.

“Currant,” Evelyn grunted.

As Rosa poured tea for a very sour-faced Evelyn, Mildred inched closer to Mally and whispered in her ear, “Bob’s out.”

Mally whipped around so fast that her hair slapped Evelyn.

“You can go see him,” said Meriyal quietly, a tired yet pleased expression on her face. “Hurry. He should be at the stables by now.”

Mally nearly knocked over a chair in her haste. She ran full speed to Bob’s stable. And there he was, sitting with his walking stick on a makeshift bench outside his stable door. The pre-dawn lit lamps bathed him in yellow.

“Mally!” Bob cried in happy surprise.

“Oh, Bob! Are you all right?” Mally fell to her knees before him, taking in his scruffy chin and wrinkled eyes. He was alive. He really was alive! But there was a nasty cut on his cheek and dried blood and grime matted his beard. He was much too thin. His cheekbones jutted out harshly.

“I’m fine,” he said a bit too quickly.

Mally noticed that he was shaking.

“What did they do to you?” Mally whispered, realizing suddenly that Bob’s wide eyes kept looking down the road that led to his stable—as if he expected to see knights marching toward them.

Bob shook his head violently.

“Don’t want to talk about that,” he said gruffly.

Mally swallowed with difficulty and rested a hand on his qui
vering knee.

“How about I take you to the Lone Candle for some brea
kfast?” she asked softly. And with a sturdy hand on his back, Mally took him to the pub.

Mally stayed with Bob as long as she possibly could. Galen gave Bob a feast fit for a duke. He’d brought him baskets of rolls with jams and honey. He’d mounded his plate with fat sausages and sizzling bacon. He waited on him hand and foot. And afterward, he made him a warm bath.

“Thank Lenzar they let him go,” Galen whispered to her as she stood at the pub’s door, about to leave.

Mally’s smile glowed.

“Keep an eye on him. Please, Galen.”