The Silver Bowl (10 page)

Chapter 19

Back Up the River Again

AS WE CAME NEAR
Winifred's village again, it started to rain. The water poured down in great silver sheets, and though it was cold and unpleasant I thought it a good omen. People were less likely to go out in such weather, and those who did kept their heads down.

“We're getting close to the landing now,” I said.

“Do you see anyone?” Tobias faced the back of the boat, as all rowers do, and so he had to turn around to see what lay ahead.

I squinted. Rainwater was running down from my hair and into my eyes.

“Yes,” I said.

There were two men on the shore, their hoods up against the rain. They were standing exactly where the boat had been tied up, talking and gesturing:
Right there, that's where it was. I'm telling you I saw it yesterday, and the king's crest upon it! A nice little skiff, just like that'n there!

“Two men,” I said. “One just pointed at us.”

“Try to act normal,” Tobias said. “They can't see us very well in this rain. And the worst they could do now is noise it about the village—and by then we'll be well away.”

I leaned over, elbows on knees, chin in my hands. The rain fell on my neck now and ran down into my clothes, which were already soaked through. I glanced over at the men again without turning my head. They continued to stand, arms down now, watching as we disappeared from sight.

It was late afternoon before the clouds parted and we saw blue sky again. Along the banks, water dripped from the trees and sparkled in the sunlight. Flocks of birds swooped over us, searching for food or a place to roost for the night.

I began bailing water out of the boat with cupped hands. It was slow and tedious work and hardly seemed to make a difference. But I kept at it. I didn't think the prince should be lying in the wet like that. He didn't seem to notice, though. In fact, he wasn't moving at all.

“I wonder if Margaret's potion is too strong,” I said. “All he does is sleep.”

“She said he needed to rest.”

“Well, he's doing that, right enough.”

“Perhaps it's because of the fever.”

I pulled back the soggy blanket and touched his cheek.

“No, Tobias, it's not the fever. He's as cold as death. See how pale he is.”

He leaned forward and stared.

“Aye, you're right. He doesn't look well at all.”

“What shall we do?”

“Lift him up; see if you can wake him.”

I did this, and he moaned once or twice; but still he slept on.

“He's like a poppet,” I said. “All flopsy.”

“Just hold him, then, as you are. Wrap your arms around him and turn his face to the sun. Lay your cheek against his.”

“But what if he should wake?”

“Then that will be good, and we can bid him move around as much as he can to warm himself.”

“Oh, don't be such a dimwit,” I said. “What if he should wake and find me
draped all over him
in such a familiar manner?”

“I never knew you were a proper lady. Better to let him die, then.”

“Oh, you are a warty toad,” I said.

In time the warmth of the sun and the warmth of my body seemed to have done him some good. His cheeks now had a bit of color, and he moved about more, moaning and mumbling. Yet still he did not wake.

“Molly?”

“What?”

“How far up the river to your town, and the abbey?”

“I only made the journey once, when I was seven and came to the castle. It took us two days. But I can't say how long it would take going there by boat. The road is straight whereas the river twists and winds.”

Tobias nodded. “Will you recognize the place from the water?”

“I think so. I'm sure you can see the church tower from the river.”

“Good.”

The prince was moving more now, adjusting his position in small ways from time to time. He was coming out of his long sleep. I freed myself from my strange embrace and laid him on the floorboards again.

“He's better now,” I whispered. “His heart beats more strongly, and his cheeks are flushed.”

“No wonder.” He grinned. “So would mine be if you held me like that. I shall be sure to tell the prince what a noble service you did him. Perhaps he will award you a medal.”

“You are a spotted slug,” I said.

Tobias pulled steadily against the current. He was exhausted, I could tell, yet our pace had varied little all day. Now the sun was near to setting, the sky ablaze with bawdy color.

“It's beautiful,” I said.

“Aye. And it betokens good weather, too. Or so the boatmen say.”

“I hope they're right.”

“We just passed Lord Hargrove's estate, Molly. We'll come to the castle soon.”

“I wonder how it'll look.”

“Much as before, I'd expect.”

“But I mean—what if everybody fled, as we did, and all is just as it was: bodies lying on the floor and dishes upon the table, all swarming with ants and rats, and no other living soul in that great empty castle but the wandering ghosts of dead kings.”

“Heaven help us, Molly! What a horrible thought.”

“I know. It just keeps popping into my head.”

“Like the visions you saw in the silver bowl?”

“Hush,” I said.

“He can't hear us.”

“No, Tobias, it's not the same, not in the slightest. For my visions are real and true. These are just . . . foolish imaginings.”

He didn't speak for a while. Then, “I wish your voices were guiding us now.”

“You might not like it if they did.”

“Perhaps not, but if danger lies ahead, I'd be glad to know it in advance.”

“Well, I can no more bid my visions come than I can make them go away. Oh, look, Tobias. There's the castle tower.”

“See if you can wake the prince.”

“My lord?” I whispered, shaking him gently. “We are close on to the castle now. I must cover you again; you must lie as still as a stone and be absolutely quiet.”

He grunted something I took for assent but went on squirming.

“Lord prince,” I hissed, “you must not move! We are passing the castle now.”

Tobias was picking up speed—not by rowing faster, but by putting more power into each stroke. He kept his head down most of the time, only turning now and again to see that he was steady on his course. It was a fine performance. Anyone would think him just a common boatman, tired and soaked from a wet day on the river, anxious to get home to his fire.

“The castle's all lit up,” I said. “So many torches.”

“Shhh,” Tobias said.

We had come to the bridge that spanned the river between the guardhouse and the castle. There were mounted knights up there, just outside the gate. That was unusual. Who were they guarding, and from what?

I leaned over the prince, shielding him from view and hiding my face. My hand rested on our “cargo”—the prince's arm—and I pressed firmly in warning.

It grew dark as we slipped under the bridge, and the splash of the oars echoed eerily against the stone. I could hear the sound of horses' hooves overhead.

“Shhh,” Tobias said again, very quietly.

We came out at last into the faint evening light, and I drew a deep breath of relief, for I have never liked dark, close places. I heard a man overhead shout, “Hey!” The bridge was behind us now, and I didn't want to turn around and look.

“It's all right,” Tobias said, his voice soft. “Nothing to do with us. One knight calling to another, most like.”

Stroke, stroke, stroke. I thought we'd never reach the point where the river bends, hugging the castle on two sides. From there we would no longer be able to see the bridge—nor could the soldiers see us.

When first I'd arrived in service, I thought the river had put itself there to be nearer to the king. I smiled, thinking of that now. Of course the bend in the river had been there first, long before someone came along and thought: What a perfect place to build a castle! The river would act as a ready-made moat, protecting it from invaders on two sides. And it would be so handy for emptying latrines and chamber pots, and disposing of dead rats, and garbage, and dirty dishwater.

And you could also put a water gate on the river, convenient for coming and going, for loading and unloading goods—and escaping from demonic wolves.

We were almost there now, and I felt the grip of fear as the iron grate came into sight. Would there be a new boat tied up at the landing? Would someone be in it, watching, ready to glide out after us as we passed?

But the grate was shut tight; and if there was a new boat, I didn't see it.

On we went, till it was full dark, and still Tobias rowed upstream. It seemed hours had passed since we'd passed a village and heard the tolling of a curfew bell, alerting the good folk of the town to bank their fires, and cover them, and put out their candles for the night. Except for the gentle sound of the oars and the occasional barking of a dog, it was dead quiet.

A three-quarters moon was rising by then, glowing dimly through a bank of clouds low on the horizon. Above us were countless twinkling stars. I marveled at them, and wondered how they got there, and what it would be like to touch one, and where they went in the daytime.

And for that brief moment, at least, the world seemed a good place, mysterious and full of promise.

Chapter 20

Who Am I to Be?

TOBIAS FOUND A LIKELY PLACE
to pull over for the night. It was a small inlet, sheltered by a strip of bushes that grew along the edge of the river. The bank had a gentle slope, perfect for landing a skiff. And not far inland was a grassy clearing surrounded by tall trees.

The prince was wide-awake by then, having slept the better part of two days. While we emptied our supplies out of the boat and tipped it over to let out the standing water, Alaric found himself a rock to sit upon and wrapped himself well in our only blanket.

“How far is it from here to the abbey?” he asked when we came into the clearing. “Can we get there by tomorrow?”

“I can't say for sure,” I said. “I've never gone there by boat, only walked; and that took two days.”

“I think,” Tobias said, “if we continue by water, we will have to sleep rough another night, as the river has many curves and bends, and we are going upstream. But if we leave at first light and cut across to join the road, we might reach the abbey before vespers tomorrow. It's more direct—though I fear, my lord, you are not up to walking so far.”

“I may be weak from my wound, but I am otherwise strong. And I have learned to bear what I must.”

“Is that your wish, then? To abandon the boat and walk the rest of the way?”

“Yes,” he said. “Now give me something to eat or I shall waste away to nothing but bones and flesh.”

Tobias cut a thick slice of bread, set a hunk of Margaret's cheese upon it, and handed it to the prince. Alaric took a bite, then grunted and spat into the bushes. “The saints protect me!” he cried. “This bread is wet!”

“It rained, my lord,” Tobias said.

“And the cheese is revolting.”

“I'm afraid it was all that Margaret had to offer us.”

“So is this what you people eat? Can you possibly like it?” He asked this as though it were a real question.

“It drives the hunger away, my lord.”

The prince gazed long at Tobias, who sat quietly upon the ground, the loaf in one hand, a knife in the other, his expression remarkably calm.

“So it does,” Alaric said. “So it does. Now, I believe I shall have a cup of that exceptional ale, if you please, to wash down this delicious cheese.”

I turned my head so he wouldn't see me smile.

When we'd finished our meal and packed everything away, we set to planning for the day ahead, working out what stories we would tell the monks when we arrived at the abbey.

Tobias and I had no need to dissemble. We had only to tell the truth: that we were servants who had fled the castle after the tragedy of the wedding feast. We'd decided to go to St. Bartholomew's since my brothers were in service there. And as our master the king was now dead and we had no money or support of any kind, we hoped the good monks would take us in and give us work to do.

The prince, though—he was a problem.

“I don't think I can pass for a commoner,” he said. “They would see through me in a moment, as I neither look nor speak like one. What if we say I was a guest at the wedding, and was wounded by one of the wolves, and fled?”

I had been afraid it would come to this. “Why then, my lord, are you dressed in Collum's Sunday clothes?”

“Because . . . mine were torn and stained with blood. I fled the castle and went to a nearby village, where I was treated by a leech. I bought these clothes from him, as there was nothing of quality to be had in such a place.”

“But, sire,” I went on, “would you not be too injured to walk that far?”

“I suppose—”

“Did someone help you, or were you alone? What was the name of the village and who was the leech?”

“I don't know. I don't know!”

I held my tongue for a little while. He was clever enough. He'd see how it was if he tried.

“I shall say I am a stranger to this country, arrived only recently for the wedding. And so, of course, I don't know the region well. And besides, I was insensible with pain and can recall very little of that night.”

I said nothing. Neither did Tobias.

“So? What do you think?”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “My lord,” I said. “I think it's a terrible idea.”

He recoiled.

“Oh?” he said. “And why is it so terrible?”

“Well, first of all it is widely known, and much talked of, that only members of the royal family died that day. The creatures harmed no one else. So if you go to the abbey and present yourself as a gentleman who'd been at the wedding feast and was bit by a wolf, won't it set them to wondering:
Isn't Prince Alaric
missing
?”

“I see.”

“That's not all. We hope to stay at the abbey a month or more, until you are well healed. During that time, other visitors will come and go, often staying for only one night. Say, eight one day, ten the next, six more the day after. If you go to the abbey as a gentleman, they will seat you at table with the other highborn folk. What chance is there, among so many, that there will not be at least one who will recognize you?”

“I have lived away from my country since I was a child.”

“But you were at the wedding, my lord. All the guests saw you, full grown, marching into the hall, sitting up there at the high table. What chance is there, I ask you again, that not a single one of those guests should pass through Riverton on some errand or other and need a bed for the night?”

It grew very quiet, then. The prince leaned forward, his hands clasped, arms between his long legs—thinking.

“Very little chance at all,” he finally said.

Had Alaric slapped me for my ill manners or spit curses upon me, I wouldn't have been surprised. But to
agree
with me—that was most unexpected.

“Lord prince,” I said as gently as I knew how, “you are safer among the poor.”

“Yes, I see that is so. Tell me then, clever Molly, what it is you propose?”

“You will not like it, sire.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that whatsoever. But I shall hear it all the same.”

“I agree that you should say you are foreign. That idea was very good, for I did fear the way you talk would likely give you away.”

“But if he is foreign,” Tobias said, “he must speak a different language, or at least in some strange and particular way.”

“I can do that,” Alaric said. “I've lived many years in Austlind and am fluent in their dialect.”

“Then let us say you are a merchant from the border region between here and Austlind. Can you come up with a town you know of? Someplace small?”

“I can.”

“Good. So, you often come over the border to Westria to sell your wares—pots, wool, sommat like that. Only, you have a weakness for ale and so you stopped at a tavern, and stayed there too long, and got roaringly drunk.”

I heard Tobias draw breath. He was sure I had gone too far.

“And as you were ruined for drink, a pair of thieves stole your horse and wagon, and your money, and all the wares you had not yet sold. Then they knocked you into a ditch and set their dog upon you. It must be an animal bite, my lord. The monks will know what it is the minute they take the bandages off.”

I waited. In the darkness, I heard him making strange sounds, and I thought for a moment he was choking. Also, he was moving strangely, bending backward and forward. Then he burst into a raucous laugh.

“The saints' eyelids! Who has raised this devil child? Is there more? Please tell me I am not a cutpurse as well as a drunk.”

I let him take the time, laugh himself out—for I had one more thing to ask of him, and I knew it would be hard.

“Sire,” I said when the time seemed right, “would you mind most terribly if we cut off your hair?”