The Tale of Mally Biddle (15 page)

“Ahem.” Archie cleared his throat, obviously trying to regain the serious atmosphere. “I have heard you pick mushrooms.”

Mally nodded.

“Good. I have a great fondness for mushrooms and have sadly had to give them up”—Rosa snorted—“due to the lack of highly qualified mushroom hunters in this damn city,” Archie continued with a raised voice. “How long have you been hunting?”

“For eight years. Since I was nine.”

“Who taught you?”

“My father.”

“Who taught him?”

Mally’s eyebrows rose.

“I believe his father,” she answered.

“You believe?” Archie pressed, his eyes narrowing shrewdly as he leaned forward. Mally suddenly felt that she was being interrogated.

“Well, you see I never asked him,” Mally replied and though she had tried to keep her tone casual, she suspected some dryness had made its way through by the stifled snicker that came from Rosa.

Archie’s mustache twitched again. His eyes were reduced to the thinnest of slits as he said sharply, “Fairy cap. What does it look like and where would I find it?”
“It’s small and white—the stem rather slender … about the width of my finger,” Mally answered. “It fruits in clusters in the fall after we’ve had a nice burst of cold after a short rain.”

“Hunter’s horn,” Archie shot.

“Smaller than fairy caps with a hollow center and curved edges—like a hunter’s horn, hence the name. Brown or black and slightly speckled.  Found in meadows—though it’s more productive in meadows with clover.”

Rosa looked over her shoulder, her mouth open in amazement. Mally tried hard to keep her lips from twitching into a smile.

“Black bonnet! Flat-footed ogre! Death angel!” Archie shouted out, leaning closer and closer to Mally over the table.

But Mally never flinched. She knew them all. She reeled off their descriptions in great detail and described when and where they grew.

“
Amanita
,” Archie hissed, his eyes glittering in his red face.

“Oh, well,
that
one is pretty common around here,” said Mally conversationally. She was rather enjoying herself. Rosa had given up washing and had turned around to watch the show. “But I wouldn’t recommend it. Amanita is the most poisonous mushroom in Lenzar—much more so than the death angel or the deadly galerina. It’s terribly tricky to pick fairy caps and white button tops because amanitas look so similar to them. They’re all almost exactly the same size and color and enjoy the same habitat. But fairy caps are a little more pointed than amanitas and as I said before, fruit in clusters. Amanitas don’t appear in clusters. They are more spread out, like white button tops. And white button tops are a
tiny
bit shorter than amanitas and a little flatter up top. And a white button’s stem is a
tad
bit thicker at the base than an amanita’s. Oh, and if you look closely enough, fairy caps have a very,
very
slight tannish hue to them unlike the amanita which is bone white.”

Archie had his hands flat on the table, watching Mally as if mesmerized.

“Is that all?” Mally asked, feeling suddenly hot around the collar as Rosa and Archie continued to stare at her.

“Is that all?
Is that all?
” Archie shouted, making Mally jump. “You’re what I’ve been waiting for! Your father taught you well!” He laughed and slapped Mally on the back, his mustache more bushy than ever. “Mally, I want you to be my mushroom hunter.”

“But Meriyal … I have other duties …”

“Bah Meriyal and her cleaning! You are my mushroom fetcher! My mushroom procurer! My mushroom hunter!” Archie jutted his fist into the air like a warrior rallying his army.

“All right, when do I start?” asked Mally grinning.

“When?” Archie swiveled in his chair and boomed at Rosa, “Rosa, m’dear, what is for tomorrow?”

Rosa quickly withdrew a very stained piece of parchment from her apron pocket.

“Oooh, the leg of lamb, Archie! Mushrooms would go well with that.”

“Aye, they would. I’m very partial to hunter’s horn with leg of lamb, Mally. Very partial.”

“I’m sure I could get you some … but Meriyal …” Mally insisted once again.

“I’ll handle Meriyal,” Archie said, suddenly severe, but then his gaze softened and he smiled warmly. “You should get to bed. A good night’s rest is required for a day of mushroom hunting!”

Mally rose and turned to the door, but Archie stopped her.

“Not that way. I appreciate you not coming through the passage but we mustn’t be foolish.” Archie walked to a large oil painting of a bowl of fruit that took up half the wall. “You can go through here.”

Ten minutes later, Mally had her covers pulled up to her chin, gazing peacefully at the writing desk beside her bed. She had written to her mother every other day and she had a feeling that tomorrow’s letter would be an exceptionally good one. Susie Biddle would certainly be happy that her daughter was finding mushrooms for the court.

15
Illius Molick

Lita and Gerda were impressed. Archie had kept Mally for over an hour—quizzing and testing her knowledge—and they had finally given up on waiting for her and had fallen asleep. But Ma
lly was jerked awake by a pillow hitting her face.

“What happened?” cried Lita as Mally pushed the pillow away. “Archie kept you forever!”

Gerda sat up in bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. Ever since the evening when Nathan had asked for her, Mally had noticed that she’d seemed quieter, but not in a bad way. She’d seemed calmer and more peaceful. Mally wondered what Nathan had said.

“Are we eating gruel?” Gerda smiled.

Lita scrunched up her face, steeling herself.

Mally smiled and shook her head.

“HA!” Lita yelled, hugging Mally and jumping up and down. “No gruel! No gruel!”

***

“When are you going to pick them?” asked Lita as they made their way down to the Servants’ Chamber.

“I was planning on asking Archie. I’m still not sure how Mer
iyal’s going to take this.”

“Mally! Hey, Mally!”

“Hello Christopher.”

Christopher squeezed between Hattie Blancher and Thomas Honeycomb.

“Abigail told me you’re Archie’s new mushroom hunter.”

“Word travels fast,” said Mally grinning shyly.

“Are you really as good as they’re saying?”

“She’s the best I’ve seen.”

Mally turned and saw Nathan. He smiled.

“I’ve never seen Archie so bubbly. He was nearly singing when he told me.”

Mally could hardly eat her breakfast. People sat squeezed around her, wanting to hear again and again how Mally had been discovered.

“What about angel wings?” asked Addison Bell, nearly knoc
king over a mug of apple juice as he leaned toward her eagerly. “Can you get those?”

“Yes,” said Mally, hastily moving her glass out of harm’s way.

“Oh, oh, and what’s the one …” said Abigail, snapping her fingers. “It turns pink when damaged.”

“The blusher?” asked Mally.

“That’s it!”

“But you have to cook that one forever,” Evelyn scorned. “You don’t want that one. Old man of the woods—now
that’s
a—”

Whatever it was, they never found out, for Evelyn was drowned out by the sudden crescendo of requests. Certainly the room was occupied much longer than usual and only after Meriyal had ordered them all to get to work did they grudgingly leave Ma
lly.

“Look out,” Lita whispered. “She’s headed this way.”

Mally steeled herself for the tidal wave.

“Mally, dear, I can’t tell you how pleased I am!”

“You—you are?” stumbled Mally, amazed.

“Why yes.” Meriyal glanced over her shoulder at the servants’ retreating backs and bent over to whisper in Mally’s ear, “I might be swayed into decreasing certain—ah—
duties
if a basketful of black bonnets found their way to my quarters.” She winked and walked away while Lita doubled over laughing. At the doorway, Meriyal said in a ringing voice, “I’ll see you in the drawing room, Lita.”

“Doesn’t miss a beat,” Lita grinned. “Find me when you get back. I want to know everything.”

“It’s just some mushrooms,” said Mally, though she couldn’t keep from smiling.

“
Just some mushrooms!
” Lita gasped, clutching her chest in mocked shock. “Don’t let Archie hear you saying that.”

In the few seconds of solitude that followed, Mally scarfed down the last of her porridge in peace; then, picking her cloak up off the bench, she crossed the now deserted chamber to the door that led to the kitchen.

Archie, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, was kneading a huge mass of dough. Bits of sticky dough and flour covered his front, but he seemed unperturbed by this. In fact, his face broke into a wide grin at the sight of Mally.

“Was wondering when you’d show,” he said.

“I got held up,” Mally explained, jutting a thumb at the door behind her. “They were all giving requests.”

“But mine come first,” he boomed, slapping a hand on the dough. His eyes seemed to sparkle with a youthful playfulness. Mally had a suspicion that he’d been itching to discuss today’s mushroom hunting ever since he awoke. “Hunter’s horn. I want to use them with the roasted lamb—really give a show. Our first mushrooms in so many years! It should be a spectacle!
So,
” he slapped his hands together and a cloud of flour flew into the air. “Do you know the area where you can hunt?”

“Yes, Nathan showed the grounds to me,” said Mally quickly.

“Good. If you can find them, I would love three basketfuls.”

Three
, thought Mally.
That’ll take some time.

“What baskets should I use?”

“These.” He bent down and extracted three wide baskets from a low shelf. “I can have them at any time before six, though the sooner the better.”

Mally savored the fact that she was mushroom hunting instead of cleaning windows as she crossed the grounds five minutes later. It was cold with the wind starting to blow, but once Mally had walked for twenty minutes up a steady slope to the first meadow, she was warmer.

After a good thirty minutes of carefully stepping through the thick grass, Mally whooped happily. Along the edge of the mea
dow was a long strip of about twenty hunter’s horns. Once she’d picked all the youngest in the patch, she was off again, slowly searching. Her fingers and cheeks were soon numb with cold. Mally tried to ignore the wind that had intensified to a howl. Suddenly she wasn’t so jubilant to be outside, away from the castle’s warm fires.

Even though she was cold, Mally thought she understood the hold these grounds had had on Queen Amara. Being a queen she must have always been inside the castle, constantly surrounded by ladies-in-waiting and always entertaining guests. Mally, for her part, had found that sleeping with two other women in a tiny room and not being able to walk down a corridor without weaving b
etween four knights and two servants, made her cherish the solitude she had found in these grounds.

After three hours, Mally could no longer feel her fingers and her ears were ringing from the howling wind. Precariously balan
cing her baskets, Mally made her way back to the castle.

She stumbled slightly on the sharp slope, being careful not to tip a basket, and entered what the servants had dubbed ‘the maze.’ Perhaps Jack had gotten a little carried away, or the royal family liked the interwoven secretiveness of mazes, but a large section of the grounds on the west side of the castle was nothing but—well, a maze: hedges ten feet tall, four feet thick; walkways that connected and dead ended—it was just as confusing as the corridors in the castle. But there were (thankfully) landmarks. Benches, statues, birdbaths, and wind chimes were spread throughout the area and Mally used them to direct herself back to the kitchen. 

She turned a corner and walked down a deserted walkway with a small white bench engraved with white rabbits at the end. She sighed in relief at being out of the violent wind. She patted her hair down ruefully, betting it was three times bushier than normal. Halfway down her path another walkway connected with it and as Mally passed the opening—she stopped.

Halfway down the joining passage stood two men. She nearly gasped. Molick. Sir Illius Molick. Captain of the knights. She had never seen him in person. The sight made her shiver. Blocky and square-jawed, he was a head shorter than the man he was facing. He was clearly angry, as evident from the way he was growling and glaring.

Mally had no idea who the other man was, but he was obviously wealthy. A pale sharp face with high cheekbones stood out clearly against the dark green of the hedge behind him. His hair was smooth and black but there were some gray streaks—though Mally thought he still looked young. He stood erect and poised and didn’t seem at all intimidated by the spitting Molick before him. Mally felt a rush of excitement at the thought that someone could look Molick in the eye without flinching.

Mally wished she could hear what they were saying, but the wind was too loud. Even the large hedges couldn’t stifle its howl. It did seem to her that they were arguing. Molick was jerking his hands about heatedly as he spoke, and the taller man’s frown dee
pened.

The taller man said something and moved his eyes to the end of the walkway to where Mally stood. Startled, she gave a hasty cur
tsy and hurried off, hoping she wouldn’t be reprimanded for her rudeness.

Back in the kitchen, Archie was beyond words. He gaped and mouthed like a fish out of water at the sight of the baskets, before finally collapsing in a chair. Rosa had to rush and fetch him a glass of brandy.

“Sweet Lenzar,” he whispered as a shaky hand lowered a now empty glass. “I must admit, I tried not to have my hopes up. Di
sappointments are so terribly jarring to the soul.”

Mally smiled as he carefully lifted a hunter’s horn as if he were handling blown glass.

“Perfect,” he whispered with reverence. “Perfect.” Then, blinking his eyes quickly, he seemed to remember he wasn’t alone and boomed, “Rosa, this calls for a toast! Bring up a flask of raspberry mead!”

“Right-o!” Rosa cried happily and she disappeared through the door where she had retrieved the brandy. In her absence, Archie continued to gaze contentedly at the mushroom in his hand. Three minutes later, Rosa came clattering back up the stairs and burst through the door, a large wooden flask in her hand. She pulled out the stopper and poured three glasses of shimmering rosy mead.

“To Mally!” Archie roared, lifting his glass in salute, “the best damn mushroom hunter in Lenzar!”

Mally flushed in pleasure as Rosa seconded the toast and Archie downed his goblet in one go.

Feeling much warmer and relaxed from her glasses of mead (Archie had insisted on refilling her glass), Mally walked down the second floor corridor, searching for Lita. At the end of the corridor, she found Lita and Christopher. The moment they spotted her, they flew upon her in a frenzy of questions. Mally happily told them about the mushrooms and Archie’s glowing reaction. At that, Lita roared with laughter.

“I wish I had seen Archie speechless,” said Christopher, grinning widely.

“’Cause it only happens on a full moon!” joked Lita.

“Mally.”

Mally, Lita, and Christopher turned. Meriyal stood before them, her face so grim, Mally’s heart faltered.

“I need you to come with me.”

Silence settled over the small group and Mally, whose mouth was suddenly dry, followed Meriyal. Mally glanced over her shoulder to see Lita and Christopher staring after her. Lita’s face was as pale as oatmeal.

Meriyal didn’t speak to Mally as she steadily led her to the south wing. Her silence only unnerved Mally more and when she couldn’t take it any longer, she finally blurted, “Have I done something wrong?”

Meriyal seemed to flinch which startled Mally even more. Me
riyal did not flinch.

“No,” she answered. “Sir Illius wishes to see you.”

Mally was so stunned that she mouthed like a catfish.

“Molick?
Molick
wishes to see—”

“
Sir Illius.
You must be careful to call him Sir Illius,” Meriyal insisted firmly, spinning around to stare at Mally.

Mally gulped and nodded.

Meriyal seemed satisfied and continued down the empty corridor.

“I am taking you to his sitting room. Remember what I said when you first came here? He enjoys believing
he
owns this castle. He’s very suspicious of strangers—he interviews all new servants.”

But Mally had been in the castle for a little over a week.

Meriyal seemed to know what she was thinking for she continued, “I only had to inform His Majesty of your desire for a position. Not Sir Illius … no matter what
he
thinks. He has only now learned of you.”

They were now on the fifth floor of the south wing, traveling down a wide corridor with giant statues of knights. There was only one door on the corridor—a thick one of deep mahogany at the very end. Meriyal suddenly stopped and turned to Mally.

“He also enjoys believing we are simpletons,” she said bluntly. “He’ll press you for information—you remember what I said about our secrets?”

Mally nodded—her mouth too dry to answer. It seemed like ages ago that she had been sharing raspberry mead with Archie and Rosa. All the warmth and comfort from that visit had long since departed.

“I’ll wait for you here.”

Meriyal looked pointedly at the door, waiting for Mally’s feet to finally move. Wishing Meriyal would suddenly say it was all a joke, Mally stepped before Sir Illius Molick’s study door and knocked. Her hand trembled. The knock was soft. But a hard, loud voice issued clearly through the wood.

“Enter.”