Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web - Volume 1 (38 page)

“But we still have to travel all the way to the western part of the kingdom to reach Morrenwood,” William said with a click of his tongue. “That’ll take forever.”

“So stop talking then and get some sleep,” Brendan joked as he lay down by the fire. “You’re going to need the rest!”

CHAPTER 24

The Swamp

The steady clatter of horse hooves disturbed the darkness. A cart rattled across the wooden bridge two miles east of Kanesbury. Zachary Farnsworth gripped the reins, deep in thought as he passed over a stretch of the Pine River just beyond the Spirit Caves. It had been thirteen days since he met with the wizard Caldurian. Dooley sat next to Farnsworth, gazing at the swampland on their right bathed in the gentle light of the rising Bear Moon still a few days from full. Square copper oil lamps attached to either side of the cart glowed like a pair of demonic eyes, the light wildly flickering behind the slits in the metal facing. The horses trotted along the dirt road in the cool autumn night, enjoying the evening excursion and not particularly bothered by the weight of the three individuals and other items they were transporting.

Dooley glanced over his shoulder at the open cart, noting several sacks filled with dried food, fruit and vegetables lined up on one side. Along the other side was a row of split firewood, seasoned and ready for burning. What caught his attention most was the heap of heavy blankets tossed over a large object sprawled out in the middle of the cart. Though it remained still, he noticed that if he stared at it long enough, he could detect a barely perceptible rise and fall of the blankets at one end of the object from time to time. He turned back around and rubbed his chin as the night wind brushed through his tangles of dirty blond hair.

Farnsworth glanced at him as he lightly snapped the reins. “Having second thoughts, Dooley?”

He looked down at his dirty boots. “Third and fourth ones, too. Let’s just get this over with.”

Farnsworth nodded, his dark eyes surveying the terrain ahead–acres of farmland on the left, including Barringer’s Landing, and a few miles of swampland to the right, teeming with tall grasses, weed stalks and scraggly trees hiding an occasional island of dry land within the dense vegetation. “Remember, it’s all part of the deal with Caldurian. We have to pay our dues if we’re going to make our marks on Kanesbury.”

“Not the most convenient way to do it,” he muttered.

Farnsworth raised his coat collar with one hand as the evening chill deepened, brushing aside the long brown hair hanging over his shoulders. “There are other ways to handle these inconveniences. Nobody is stopping you.”

Dooley glared at Farnsworth. “You either, Zachary! You’re just as capable of–” He turned and spit onto the passing road. “Like I said, let’s get this over with.”

Farnsworth nodded, though he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. “We’re both corrupt, Dooley, but apparently only up to a certain point, I guess. Then again, this drama is just beginning to play out. Who knows what else we might do if forced to act.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Arthur Weeks was killed by somebody else’s hand and that worked to our benefit.” Dooley looked up, searching for an explanation. “Now no one can connect his lies about Nicholas Raven to us. But would either of us have had the nerve to wield that knife against Arthur if necessary? If he ever decided to expose us to the authorities?”

“I don’t know.” Dooley grunted with disgust. “Probably not. Seems neither of us has the stomach to get our hands dirty in that way. By the look of things, we’d most likely have kidnapped Arthur and dragged him to the swamps like this one.” He indicated the body in back with his thumb. “Not the most efficient use of our time, so we’d better watch out who else we make as enemies or we’ll be hauling away half the population of Kanesbury. Sooner or later it’s going to catch up with us unless we find a better plan.”

“I think my plan has gotten us far up to this point,” he said with a hint of irritation. “Do as you’re told and we’ll be all right. I helped convince Ned Adams to get you Nicholas’ old job, didn’t I?” Dooley nodded. “And he said you did just fine taking that recent shipment to Bridgewater County. So trust me to think things through for the both of us. I know what I’m doing.”

“I suppose so.”

“You’ll thank me one of these days after you obtain a more lucrative job and a nicer house to live in,” Farnsworth said encouragingly. “And can you honestly tell me that you wouldn’t mind frequenting the finer dining establishments in the village, or associating with the more influential citizens of Kanesbury?”

“I wouldn’t stick my nose up at the opportunity,” he said, folding his arms and leaning back in the wagon seat. “But you already know that.”

“Then let me do my job and those things will come your way in time,” he promised. “And who knows, your rise in status just might catch the eye of some of the fine ladies in Kanesbury, say, for instance, Miss Katherine Durant.”

“Who said anything about–?”

Farnsworth grinned. “You didn’t have to say anything, Dooley. It’s obvious you have feelings for her. I stop by the Iron Kettle, too. I hear about things you’ve said in your inebriated states.”

“Perhaps it
had
crossed my mind,” he said with a sigh, “though I don’t think she’d ever want to be seen with the likes of me. But in time, you never know.”

“That’s the spirit. And that’s why I encourage patience. So if we fully cooperate and don’t panic, the rewards will eventually come to us. I want control of Kanesbury, and in your dreams, you see yourself with someone like Katherine,” he said. “So don’t do anything to foul up the possibility of such dreams becoming reality.”

Dooley nodded, letting the words sink in. Success seemed obtainable whenever Farnsworth stated matters so finely. But their deeds of late rested on his shoulders like a load of rocks he could never set down, keeping him awake at night. He feared that he might let slip a few words in public that would reveal everything, landing them either in the lockup or at the hands of an angry mob. He sometimes wished he had never stolen that key when he was ten, yearning simply for the warmth and carefree spirit of that sunny day long ago as the horse trotted past the seemingly endless tract of swampland.

He again indicated the body in back of the cart, eager to change the subject. “About the sleeping spell that strange man had cast on him. How long will it last?”

Farnsworth shrugged. “Indefinitely, I suppose. Arileez is his name, by the way, according to the crow. And he’s more of a wizard than a regular man. A spooky sort, don’t you agree? I’m just glad Arileez suggested a sleeping spell. It makes this kidnapping so much easier than the last one.”

Dooley wrinkled his brow. “So why didn’t we bring Arileez along to put Adelaide under a spell, too? It’d save us from hauling out food supplies to her every six days.”

Farnsworth glared at him through the gloom. “He doesn’t know about Adelaide! I don’t want him to know. And I don’t want word of her getting back to Caldurian either. She is our mistake, Dooley. The wizard was upset enough when we lost the key, so why risk another example of incompetence?”

“All right! I won’t mention it again,” he fumed. “But why is Arileez in Kanesbury in the first place?”

Farnsworth shook his head, imagining himself pushing Dooley off the cart for posing yet another one of his inane questions. “Are you blind? Don’t you know what that being is capable of?”

“I know
that
!” he snapped. “Stop treating me like a fool. I just want to know the reason Arileez is here. How will things unfold?”

“Watch very closely as the days go by. That’s all I can say. Caldurian has a plan laid out that will benefit him and us. Just let it play out,” he warned. “The less you know right now, the better.”

“As usual!”

“I don’t make the rules, Dooley, but I have to follow them.” Farnsworth snapped the reins as they were nearing their destination. “But there is something you should know. When Gavin contacted me a few days ago and said Arileez was on his way, the crow also told me of some news regarding Morrenwood. King Justin is convening a war council in fourteen days.”

Dooley picked at his teeth with a jagged fingernail. “That’s interesting, I guess. But why should I care?”

“Because if you correctly time your flour deliveries to the capital for Ned Adams, maybe you can find a way to make yourself an uninvited guest at the council.”

“
What
?”

“You heard me. And you knew this was a possibility all along.” Farnsworth explained that he had casually spoken to Ned on the street two days after Gavin informed him of the upcoming war council in Morrenwood. “I asked Ned how your training for Nicholas’ job was progressing. He happily told me about the success of your recent deliveries to Bridgewater County and how you were learning the bookkeeping quicker than he had hoped. He added that you would be leaving for Morrenwood soon to deliver final shipments for the King’s stores.”

“And I’m to act as a spy?” Dooley asked, not happy with the prospect.

“I promised Caldurian as much on the night he showed up to collect the key,” he said. “We can’t back out now, especially after going through all that trouble to frame Nicholas. Imagine the information we could glean from that meeting. Caldurian would find it more valuable than that old key, I’d wager. So you see…”

Dooley spit on the road again. “Yeah, I see. It’s up to me, as usual. Like I know anything about being a spy!”

“Did you know anything about kidnapping before Adelaide stumbled upon us in Nicholas’ shed? And apparently you already knew how to be a thief at age ten when you swiped the key from that eagle.” Farnsworth was pleased with Dooley’s silent response, not in the mood to argue further. “Good then. So you understand,” he said, gently pulling on the reins as they neared their turnoff.

When Farnsworth noted a large rock half buried just off the right side of the road, he slowed the horse to a gentle gait and pulled off to the grassy side a few moments later. He directed the steed toward the nearby woods bordering one section of the swamp beyond. They passed under the trees along a vague path that paralleled the main road for a short distance before turning right deeper into the woods, heading closer to the swamp. The intermittent calls of frogs and crickets grew louder and sharper as the horse cautiously drew its load farther into the trees, guided only by the light of the two oil lamps and the Bear Moon drifting above. A few dreary minutes later, he brought the horse to a halt at the end of the path only a few yards from the water’s edge. There was only enough room for the horse and cart to turn around for the return journey.

“Here we are again,” Dooley muttered before hopping off the cart, feeling suffocated by the surroundings. Numerous trees, thin and arthritic, grew out of the swampy waters like fingers groping at the partially hidden sky in search of escape. Strings of watery, leafy vines had wrapped themselves around their trucks over the years and hung from the branches like tangles of rope or a brood of lifeless snakes. Weeds grew in thick bunches, pungently scenting the cold air.

“I’ll get the boats out of hiding,” Farnsworth said, disappearing into the trees beyond with one of the oil lamps he had unfastened from the cart.

A few minutes later, a dot of light appeared on the water. Farnsworth drifted along the edge of the swamp in a small wooden boat to where Dooley stood, deftly paddling with an oar. The oil lamp was set near the bow. A second boat followed, attached to the first with a rope. When the boat neared, Dooley grabbed a rope that Farnsworth flung to him and guided it to shore. Farnsworth stepped out and dragged the second boat onto dry land beside the first.

“Let’s load up,” he said, signaling for Dooley to follow him to the cart. “We’ll set him in one of the boats and all the firewood and supplies in the other.”

Dooley nodded, wavering on the verge of another complaint but knowing it wouldn’t do him any good. He and Farnsworth each grabbed two of the sacks and set them in one of the boats, swiftly repeating the process until one vessel was fully loaded with the firewood and food supplies. Then Dooley climbed onto the cart and waited for Farnsworth to walk around to the back. The heaviest burden was yet to follow.

He glanced at Farnsworth over the pile of blankets and tossed them aside, revealing a body in the night still sleeping soundly on the wooden surface. He sighed, grateful he couldn’t discern the man’s features in the darkness.

“Ready, Zachary?” he asked mechanically.

Farnsworth nodded and grabbed the man from beneath the arms while Dooley lifted the legs, carefully carrying him off the cart and depositing the body into the empty boat. Dooley retrieved the blankets from the cart and threw them on top of the man, shielding him from view. He sighed with relief when the first part of their task was complete and grabbed the other oil lamp.

Moments later, the pair of boats drifted slowly across the swamp toward a small island hidden among the vegetation, the glow of the lamps casting a pale light upon the murky surface of the water. Dooley sat in the boat with the food supplies, surveying the patch of an island just ahead as he repeatedly dipped his oar in the water from side to side. He had only been here one other time, the night he and Farnsworth swiftly and secretly transported a bound and gagged Adelaide Cooper out of Kanesbury in the inky darkness. He felt a knot in his stomach then, wondering if his alliance with Farnsworth and been for the best. But haunting him even more was the image of Arthur Weeks, his dead vacant gaze staring up into nothingness, an image he couldn’t yet shake from his mind. Visions of wealth and prestige that had entertained him so often in the past now grew dim as he floated silently upon the water toward the abandoned robbers’ hideout that Farnsworth had procured through some of his unsavory connections. But in spite of his guilt and queasy feelings, Dooley knew that it was too late to turn back.