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Authors: M.L. LeGette

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BOOK: The Tale of Mally Biddle
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Joan turned at the sound of her name and rushed to them. B
efore Mally could say hello, Joan asked the others, “Did you hear about the raid?” She leaned over Christopher’s shoulder, her eyes wide. Lita, Christopher, and Betty all turned their complete attention to Joan.

“Raid? What raid?”

“At the Lone Candle,” said Joan. “Word is it happened last night.”

The glass of juice slipped from Mally’s hand. It clattered on the table, spilling juice all over the wood. Betty grabbed her napkin and mopped up the spill, but Mally and the rest had hardly noticed.

Lita gasped and covered her mouth.

“Oh, no,” she moaned. “Was anyone hurt?”

“I’m not sure,” said Joan. “There was a scuffle, I think, but I really don’t know. But supposedly they made a right mess of the place. Broken chairs everywhere.”

“Why was there a raid?” asked Mally, her hand still held u
pright, but without her glass of juice.

“Because the knights were bored, why else?” raged Lita. “They wanted to knock around some furniture and the Lone Candle just happened to be close by! I hate them!”

“You’re sure no one was hurt?” Mally asked Joan.

Joan shrugged, her face lined with worry.

“I hope not,” she said.

 

Breakfast wasn’t much fun after that. Joan left their table to spread the news to others. Lita silently fumed beside Mally, and Betty and Christopher were both pale and staring at their plates. Mally was using every ounce of self-restraint not to run straight to the Lone Candle that second. Lita might be right about the knight’s motivations, but Mally had another reason to fear any attacks on the inn: Galen was a rebel.

When it seemed clear to both Mally and Lita that they weren’t in the mood to eat anymore, they rose and started for the door, but Meriyal suddenly appeared at Mally’s side.

“I need you to come with me—fitting,” Meriyal explained.

“I’ll see you later,” Mally said to Lita and she followed Meriyal from the Servants’ Chamber.

Twenty minutes later, Mally stood on a short stool as two women pinned and altered a servant’s uniform to her size. One of the women was Mildred Bolton, who doted on Mally so much that Mally suddenly felt like a five year old. The other was Evelyn Green, an unpleasant woman who kept “accidentally” poking the needles into Mally’s side. Meriyal stood to one side watching the proceedings.

“It is your job to keep your uniform clean,” said Meriyal. “Any darning or patching is up to you.”

Mally nodded. Her mother was the real seamstress of the family but Mally could manage a few stitches.

“Wrists too thin,” Evelyn huffed under her breath as she pinned a sleeve.

“Brown is a very attractive color on you, Mally,” praised Mildred.

Evelyn snorted.

“Meriyal,” Mally said loudly to drown out Evelyn’s not-so-subtle criticisms, “I have a horse—”

“Congratulations,” said Meriyal unenthusiastically. 

“And I was wondering when I would be permitted to see him.”

Meriyal raised an eyebrow.

“See him?”

“Yes,” said Mally.

“Well, you may see him on your day off. You get one day every two weeks—I know that sounds harsh, but it’s all I can allow.”

Mally was in shock. One day for every fourteen? That was r
idiculous!

“But, Meriyal, I must see him every week!”

Meriyal stared at her in surprise. Mildred stopped sewing the skirt’s hem and stared up at Mally. Evelyn grumbled something about selfish young people.

Meriyal seemed to come out of her surprise like a ruffled hen.

“Every week? He’s a horse!”

“But—”

“What a thing to ask!”

“Indecent. Ungrateful,” added Evelyn with a poke of her ne
edle.

“But Meriyal! He’ll be depressed!”

“And what will I be if the curtains are not washed?” Meriyal countered. “If the floors are not waxed? If the dust is not removed? If you don’t want the sanctuary of this castle then you may leave! We earn our safety here!”

Mally was so shocked by Meriyal’s words that for a moment she wondered if she had just been kicked out of the castle.

Evelyn smiled contentedly and continued her work, but Mildred turned to Meriyal with a soft smile.

“It wouldn’t hurt for her to spend a short portion of one day with her horse, Meriyal. Just an hour say … every Thursday? She could run the errands in the city that day—make the trip useful.”

Mally could hardly believe it, but Meriyal considered Mildred’s request. They were very close in age, Mildred and Meriyal, and then, as she felt another jab in her side, Mally conceded that Evelyn looked a few years younger than Meriyal.

“One hour every Thursday,” Meriyal ordered, giving Mally a piercing stare. “And you’ll run the errands.”

Thrilled, Mally jumped from the stool to hug Meriyal in thanks.

Flustered, Meriyal awkwardly patted Mally on the back.

“That’s enough of that!” she said gruffly. “Get back up there, and let them finish.”

 

 

13
Loose Ends

“No. Absolutely not.”

Lita shook her head, her arms crossed, and her face wearing a look of supreme stubbornness.

“I can’t clean it,” Christopher begged. “Stoops wants me to shine his swords and he’ll keep me at it all day.”

“No. No. NO.” Lita shook her head violently with each word, making her long braid swish around her like a whip.

“I’ll clean the chandelier, Christopher,” said Mally.

Christopher’s wide eyes latched onto her.

“Would you?” he asked breathlessly.

“Sure.”

“May heaven bless you!” he cried in relief, kissing Mally on e
ither cheek and rushing down the corridor.

Lita positively refused to even keep Mally company. It made her stomach turn even to
see
someone so high on a ladder, so Mally made her way alone to the library, where the chandelier waited to be cleaned. Mally was proud of herself. It was just her fourth day in the castle, but she had memorized a good number of servant passages in that time. But that didn’t mean she didn’t still get horribly confused and lost, and come out onto the east wing when she had intended the third floor. Many times she got so disoriented in the weaving, maze-like servant passages that she would have to peek around a tapestry or mirror to get her bearings.

She ducked into a small room that housed sheets and towels and, glancing over her shoulder, opened a wardrobe. She pushed the heavy cloaks to one side and stepped in, pressing her hands against the wooden back. It swung open, revealing a narrow stone passage with a low ceiling. Every couple of feet, a torch was mounted on the walls; their light flickered as new air swept down the passage. This passage led directly to the library on the second floor and Mally was pleased she wouldn’t have to risk the many floors and corridors of knights. Other passages joined hers and multiple times she waved or nodded to other servants traveling to their various destinations.

Mally hadn’t heard from Ivan or Galen. She knew that this was to be expected, but the news of the raid had made Mally nervous. She wanted to know for herself that Galen and Olive and Edwin (Galen’s little brother) were all right. For the past day and a half, she had been listening hard for anything the servants were hearing. But tomorrow was Thursday and Mally would be able to enter the city. She would go to the Lone Candle and see for herself how they were. In the mean time she would just have to do the job Ivan had put her in the castle to do.

Gerda enjoyed talking and Mally had quickly gathered info
rmation from her. She now had a nice idea of who had worked in the castle when the Royal family had died.

“I started work here early that spring,” Gerda had said. “I adored King—” Gerda glanced at their bedroom door to make sure it was closed “—Sebastian and Queen Amara.” Mally had seen this behavior many times already from the servants. No one was a
llowed to say the late king and queen’s names, but the servants did when they were sure a knight was not listening. “They were the most wonderfully kind people. I was devastated when the queen had her riding accident, and I cried for days when His Majesty was poisoned.” Gerda’s eyes had indeed taken on a watery shine. “And I
never
believed it was Alice Spindle who killed him.”

“She was a servant,” Lita had supplied.

“Yes, the sweetest, quietest girl. May she rest in peace.”

Mally had frowned at Gerda.

“But she
did
poison the goblet, right?” she had asked. In Blighten, Alice Spindle was not a polite topic of conversation. At Gerda and Lita’s glares, Mally had added quickly, “Maybe it was an accident?”

“It was no accident,” Gerda had nearly spat. “She did
not
put in that poison. She was set up. And I’m not the only one who believes that!” Gerda had exclaimed heatedly when Mally frowned dubiously. “Lita, you don’t believe it!” Gerda had spun around to face Lita who shook her head firmly. “And neither does Meriyal or Nathan or Nanette—”

“Who’s Nanette?” Mally had quickly interrupted.

“Nanette Lynwood. She was good friends with Cayla Black. Cayla was the one who first argued against Alice’s guilt,” Gerda had explained. “She left after the princess died. I think she couldn’t handle it anymore.”

“And the princess died of a fever?” Mally asked, wanting to be sure of the facts.

“Yes,” Gerda nodded. “Cayla looked like a ghost after it had happened. And Kiora—Kiora couldn’t make any sense of it. It was like she couldn’t believe it.”

“Were Cayla and Kiora…?”

“The princess’s nursemaids. They cared for her. Cayla mostly, but Kiora helped.”

Mally’s eyes lit up. What she needed was to talk to one of these women.

“Is Kiora still here?” Mally had asked hopefully. “Can you introduce me?” she asked Lita.

Lita’s widened eyes shot to Gerda who had become very still.

“Kiora died sixteen years ago,” Gerda had said stiffly. “She jumped from Bosc Bell Tower.”

 

Mally had reached the end of her passage and pushed the back of a large painting open a crack. After assuring herself that the coast was clear she swung it open, jumped out of the passage and shut it back.

The library was large, but the ceiling was moderately low. The job Christopher had begged Lita to do was clean the chandelier that hung in the center of the library. Mally opened a wardrobe in a corner and wheeled out a small ladder that was used to reach the top bookshelves. No wonder Lita didn’t enjoy it. She would have to stand on the topmost step to reach parts of the chandelier. Mally climbed the ladder and withdrew a cleaning rag from her pocket.
This will take hours,
she sighed, and started work.

As she cleaned the chandelier, she planned out how she was going to get information for Ivan and Galen. Gerda had pointed Nanette Lynwood out to her the other day. She was tall and had mousy brown hair, but that was all she had seen, for Nanette had walked through a door a second later. In fact, Mally hardly ever saw Nanette and decided that maybe she should question someone else first.

She would have to go slowly and wait for an opportunity to present itself in the conversation. If she seemed too inquisitive about the Royal family it would look suspicious. She was worried that Lita already thought her behavior odd.

So far, the only take on the events she had gotten was from Gerda.

“The queen died at sunset. She always went for a ride then, though I remember there was a nasty storm. That was how we found out, you see. When it began to rain, King Sebastian realized Queen Amara was still out and he sent Alfred Cass to find her; he was the stable boy then, but he’s in charge of them now. I’ll never forget that night. He came rushing into the great hall, soaked to the bone and covered in mud, yelling that the queen was dead. Supposedly, the horse had gone wild and jumped a dangerously high hedge. Which was
so strange
, because Queen Amara was a remarkable rider. The horses under her hand
never
faltered.”

“Perhaps the storm caused him to bolt?” Lita had suggested.

But Gerda hadn’t looked convinced, “Perhaps … And when King Sebastian died … I was sleeping and was yanked awake by Meriyal who told me.”

Mally had to admit that the story of Alice Spindle’s guilt was difficult to believe. Certainly,
she
would never poison a goblet that was hers and always hers to deliver. Unless she was stupid or wanted to be hung. And Gerda was fierce about Alice’s sanity and clarity. In Gerda’s mind, Alice Spindle would never have made such an atrocious mistake. And the only place where herbs and powders were kept was in a locked cupboard in the sickroom for making tonics. And not even there were the ingredients kept in a large enough dosage to
kill
someone. Which meant Alice must have gone into the city to buy the poison. Something that Gerda strongly argued was inconceivable.

And Mally agreed. It was too obvious.

So if Alice had been set up, who was the
real
murderer? But that didn’t really put her on a new path. The king and queen were clearly dead and the princess—in Mally’s opinion—looked pretty dead, too. Where was the proof that she was alive? The people had been told she had died of a fever and the only two people who could positively counteract that story were no longer at the castle. Cayla had moved on, though Mally was suspicious as to whether it was at her own inclination, and Kiora had leapt from the bell tower. But the funeral was strange. Royalty were seen in their caskets. The people viewed them. Paid their respects. It was tradition. The king and queen had been seen, so why not the baby?

It seemed that Mally was back in the position of quizzing older servants. After mentally running through her list of options, she decided to find Nathan after cleaning the chandelier. But, Mally never got the time to find Nathan. Halfway down a stairwell, she bumped into Sir Brian and it took a good twenty minutes before she managed to escape. And at the bottom of the stairs she ran into Meriyal, who needed her to sweep the steps clear of leaves.

I’ll talk to him tomorrow,
Mally thought fifteen minutes later, massaging her neck as she returned the broom to the garden shed.

“Mally! Mally!”

“Now what?” she groaned.

But she was pleasantly surprised to find Sammy McGriff, a young boy of around ten who helped Jack Arrington, the gardener, rushing to her.

“I have a message for you,” he panted. “From Bob Kettle.”

“Bob? What is it?” she asked sharply, her mind zooming to Sam.

“He says you should come right away. That it’s urgent. Your horse—”

Mally didn’t hear the rest. Blood pounding in her ears, she left Sammy, running back into the castle seeking Meriyal.

It took her some time, but she finally spotted her leaving the armory.

“Meriyal!” Mally ran up the remaining stairs, pushing past Be
tty and Joan in her haste.

“Have you finished sweeping? Good, because I need you to—”

“I can’t,” Mally interrupted. “Bob Kettle just called for me. It’s urgent. Something has happened to my horse!”

She spoke in such a rush that her words tripped over the
mselves.

Clearly taken aback by Mally’s state, Meriyal said slowly as if trying to calm a wild animal, “Bob has stable hands. I’m sure they can handle—”

“If they could then Bob wouldn’t have called for me! Please Meriyal!”

Meriyal’s lips thinned but she nodded her head shortly.

A warning was clear in her voice as she said, “Hurry back.”

Mally spun around and raced back down the stairs, whizzing past Alfred and Joan again. At the main gate, she stopped and waited for the knight to allow her through. A stitch was starting in her side from running, but she didn’t slow, and people on the street watched her fly by. She slid to a stop at the entrance to Bob’s st
able, gasping for breath.

“Bob?” she yelled.

“Out here!” came a reply from the fenced meadow.

Heart racing, dreading what she would find, Mally sprinted around the side of the stable to the meadow. She stopped in her tracks. Sam stood in the meadow, munching nonchalantly on some tufts of grass, looking utterly content. Beside him stood Ivan and beside Ivan stood Galen.

“Hi,” said Ivan once she had clambered over the fence.

Sam perked his head up and gave a loud snort of delight. He jutted his great head against her chest and closed his eyes as she scratched behind his ears. Galen grinned widely at her. On his chin was a nasty scratch and beside his right eye a faint bruise.

“Are you all right?” Mally immediately demanded. “I heard about the raid.”

“I’m fine,” Galen replied a bit too casually for Mally’s liking. “I’m glad to see you!”

“Don’t change the subject!” said Mally. “What happened?”

Galen looked a little surprised by Mally’s furious demand and a little … pleased? That didn’t make any sense to Mally, so she i
gnored the slight curve of his mouth and continued to glare at him.

“Five knights showed up during dinner and wanted to search the inn for hiding rebels,” Galen explained.

Mally gasped.

“Then they know…?” she couldn’t bring herself to finish that question. But relief washed over her as Galen and Ivan both shook their heads.

“The first time it happened, we thought they knew about us, but they search everywhere—houses, shops, stables,” Galen told her. “They don’t know who the rebels are so they search random places in hopes of catching us off guard.”

“But you got hurt,” said Mally, staring in concern at Galen’s face.

“Believe me, it’s nothing,” said Galen with that hint of a smile.

Mally stared at Galen in silence. Ivan awkwardly cleared his throat, startling Mally back to his presence.  Now with her atte
ntion on Ivan, she glowered at him, suddenly remembering what had brought her dashing to Bob’s stable.

“What was the point of scaring me to death!” Mally snapped at Ivan. “I ran all the way here.”

BOOK: The Tale of Mally Biddle
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