An Apprentice Without Magic, page 32
part #2 of Magic Missing Series
After scouting out the garden, Dickey led them to a little thicket in the landscaping that afforded them a view of the front of the house. They would wait until dark.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
~
S am shivered in the cooling air as night fell, but finally, a carriage wheeled around the circular driveway to the front door, and Lady Grate entered her house. She let herself in rather than wait for a servant. Sam was impressed because she wouldn’t think anyone was watching.
Dickey and Sam decided to chance the front door.
Lady Grate opened the door herself. Her eyes widened. “They told me you were both dead, escaping while being transferred to the West Prison.”
Dickey sneered. “Hardly. Let us in. Who knows who is watching your front door, Lady Grate?”
“Keet.” She stepped aside as Sam and Dickey hurried through her front door.
“I hope you don’t mind us imposing on your hospitality,” Sam said.
Keet batted her eyelashes at Sam. “Of course not. We are in the same club, are we not?”
Dickey grunted. “We haven’t eaten since yesterday. Do you have anything to feed us?”
Sam’s stomach growled as soon as Dickey mentioned food.
“Come this way. Today is the servants’ day off. I will admit I didn’t want to eat my questionable cooking tonight and imposed on a friend, but I’m sure there is something you can find in my kitchen.”
Sam found day-old bread and cured meat in the pantry. Dickey boiled water for tea, and Keet found a few apples in the cellar, along with a bottle of wine.
“You move like a couple of old men,” she said as they sat down. Keet said she wanted to hear everything while they ate. She took a knife and expertly cut a wedge from the apple.
“That’s what happens when you fall off a cliff into the sea,” Dickey said.
“Inside a carriage,” Sam added.
“Why weren’t you killed?”
Dickey shook his head. “I don’t know, but we didn’t come out of it unscathed.” He looked at Sam. “When you get a chance between bites, could you remove my cast?”
Sam filled his mouth with meat and got down on painful knees and removed the cast with his gold tip.
Dickey sighed. “Take off the boot and let’s see the damage.”
Sam squinted as Dickey clenched his teeth. His foot had swollen, and he finally groaned when Sam wiggled the boot off. He removed Dickey’s sock, and the foot was half purple with bruising.
“It certainly is colorful,” Keet said. “I’ll get some water. You should soak it in a salt bath.”
Dickey grumbled something Sam couldn’t understand, but let Keet fill up a bucket and put his foot in the bath. “I don’t know if this will do any good,” he said.
She shrugged. “I don’t know either, but anything is worth a try. Now tell me everything in detail. I know about the cliff thing, but how did you get to the ocean?”
Sam looked at Dickey, still feeding, and gave her the entire story.
“They took you out of the royal jail before I knew it. Diabolical. I didn’t think they would resort to murder,” Keet said.
“Can we stay here for a bit until my foot recovers?”
“In secret?” Keet said breathlessly.
Dickey nodded. “I’d hate to put others in peril, but we are safer in your mansion than at the constabulary or with anyone we know in Baskin.”
“Of course,” Keet said with a beaming smile. “I would be happy to help. The eastern wing is not being used, and I do keep everything dusted and cleaned.”
“What about clothes?” Sam asked.
“I have some available. I don’t know what fits, but we can figure that out between us, can’t we?” she said.
Sam thought this was all an adventure for her, but it wasn’t for him. Issak Bolt and Captain Fork had tried to kill him and his partner. He didn’t feel excited about anything but a soft bed.
After finishing their impromptu meal, Keet led them through the mansion to the small east wing and to two of the four bedrooms. She opened the door to a bedroom, and Sam collapsed on the bed, fully clothed and instantly fell asleep after he had drawn up the covers.
~
“Bath time!” Keet said, poking her head in the bedroom door. “I excused you last night, but you can’t stay here and offend my sense of smell. You first.”
Sam rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and once he had taken a few steps to loosen the stiffness in his muscles and joints, he meekly followed Keet to a steaming bath.
“I have forbidden my servants to enter the wing when my guests are around. I told them royal cousins are secretly hiding from the king.” She giggled.
Sam entered the room. He spotted a suit of clothes hanging on the wall. “Are those mine to wear?”
Keet nodded. “There are undergarments on the chair. I hope they fit well enough, but they are clean,” she said. “Enjoy.”
Sam locked the door and took his clothes off. His body was purpled with bruises in unusual places, but his aches and pains began to fade away as he lowered himself into the steaming tub and soaked in the heat.
The water began to cool, and Sam’s skin began to wrinkle, so he jumped out and put on the fresh clothes. He walked back to his room where a servant took the clothes he had worn during his incarceration.
“Where can I get something to eat?” he said in court language.
“In the kitchen. Your companion is already down there. If you’ll follow me.”
Sam padded after the woman in his silk-stockinged feet and ended up at a large breakfast table with Dickey and Keet. She was evidently enamored with his partner, and Dickey looked to be getting a little enamored himself. It was all a far cry from waking up on a sandy beach the previous morning.
He sat down, and his body reminded him that he was still bruised and sore.
“How was your bath?” Dickey asked.
“Hot. It soaked all my aches and pains away, for a while.” Sam looked at Keet. “I’m clean and not smelly. Now can I stay for a while?”
She nodded, smiling. “It is time for Dickey to make himself presentable.”
Dickey got to his feet. Keet had provided him with a cane.
“Do you need help up the stairs?” Keet asked.
Dickey just smirked and shook his head. “I’ll make it. Do I have to use his bathwater?” he asked.
Keet laughed. “Not at all. There will be new clothes for you, too.”
Dickey grunted and left the kitchen, still favoring his sprained ankle.
Keet watched him go. “He promised he’d put another pollen boot on after his bath.” She turned to Sam. “Now, what is your story?”
“You already know my story.”
She waved her hand in protest. “No, no, no. Tell me how you worked with Harrison, my brother?”
“You are siblings?” Sam asked, astonished at the revelation. “First, tell me why you have different last names?”
“The king made me use my stepfather’s name when he exiled Harrison. I am a Dimple through and through.” She laughed. “Your story, now?”
The cook put a large plate filled with food in front of him, and Sam ate while he talked. He had just about finished when Dickey hobbled into the room. To Sam’s eye he just saw a stocking, but the way his pants were folded, a pollen boot adorned Dickey’s foot.
Keet cupped her chin in her palm with her elbow resting on the table. “Finish. Has Dickey heard this part?”
Sam looked at the disagreeable face of his partner. “I’ll make it quick.” Sam completed the story with getting on the carriage to head to Baskin.
“Harrison is quite a bit older than I,” Keet said, “It was very much a surprise when my mother found out she was giving birth to another child at her age. We didn’t even grow up together. Harrison was already out of the house as far back as I remember.” She sighed. “Thank you, Sam. Now, what can I do?”
“Keep us dead,” Dickey said.
“My, my,” Keet said, putting her hand to her throat. “You two are the most alive, dead people I have ever seen.”
Dickey grunted. “I need to mend, and Sam needs to get a pair of his spectacles, not to mention clothes and money for both of us. I assume you can put us up here for a week or two?”
Keet flashed her eyes and grinned. “Happily. Very happily.”
Dickey looked away, turning a little red. Sam thought Keet was definitely getting to him.
“Why don’t you invite Winnie Bentwick and Antina Mulch to lunch or something?” Sam asked. “Antina can get my things from Tru, and we need to let Chief Constable Bentwick know we are alive.”
Dickey raised his eyebrows. “The apprentice speaks. I agree, but just those two. Don’t tell the king or anyone else. Swear your servants to secrecy. It means our lives. If Bolt has declared us dead, he can make that happen for real with impunity.”
Keet put her hand to her mouth. “I didn’t think of that. Oh, you really are in danger. I will get something set up for tomorrow,” she said. “A regrets luncheon.”
~
Keet had a couple of swords once used for wall decorations in a storage closet, and Dickey decided he wouldn’t sit around all day moping, so he dragged Sam to sword practice. Sam and Dickey stood in the mansion’s conservatory facing each other.
“We will do the best we can. I always thought bruises and bumps go away quicker if you can get some exercise to get the blood flowing,” Dickey said.
Sam hadn’t seen Dickey with a sword, even during their first encounter with the gang ambush. He remembered his partner was rumored to be more than proficient, but Dickey never practiced with the constables.
“I can’t move around very much,” Dickey said. “ Let’s try not to do Bolt’s dirty work on each other, eh?”
Sam checked his sword. “I’d have to bludgeon you to death. These things have no edge to speak of.”
They saluted each other and began to slash and parry methodically. Sam thought that both of them were getting used to what their painful bodies would permit. Sam feinted towards Dickey’s ankle, and his partner had to slide the boot back to stop the move. He stumbled back and fell down.
Sam helped Dickey up. “I shouldn’t have done that,” Sam said.
Dickey shook his head. “You take what your opponent gives you. That applies to snooping as well as fighting with a sword. Just don’t do that again until my ankle is better.” He ended his reproof with a half-smile.
That was good enough for Sam who grinned back. They continued, and Dickey’s fine blade work finally showed enough to give Sam a few new bruises.
“You have remembered what you learned. Now you have to grow and get stronger,” Dickey said. “I have the advantage of better teachers, more practice, and a body that hasn’t slowed down too much with age.”
Sam could tell Dickey’s speed was better than any of the constables. “Isn’t Kened Rider a good teacher?”
“Good, but not great. My stepmother insisted that I learn from the best. She knew the Royal Sword Master, who wasn’t the best teacher, but one of his aides was. Garn is still around teaching nobles the finer arts of the blade. Superb swordsman. He also worked with your friend Harrison, by the way.”
“Harrison’s swordplay was changed when he was in the army.”
Dickey nodded. “A little, probably. Garn was excellent at preparing me for any kind of fighting. Enough of that,” Dickey said, straightening up a bit more. “I am finished for today and need to get my ankle on a pillow, or it will swell up even more.”
~
Sam and Dickey sat behind a screen in the small dining room where Keet had just entered, ushering in Winnie, Antina, and another woman.
“That is Winnie’s mother, the Chief’s wife,” Dickey whispered to Sam.
Sam sat through an endless stream of meaningless chatter. He wasn’t one to trade compliments for minutes on end like women did. It reminded him of Addy, his sister, talking to her friends.
Their talk turned to Sam and Dickey. Keet was even able to generate a few tears.
“I’m so sorry he died. I wanted to get to know Sam better. He had so much potential.” Winnie said, which surprised Sam.
Antina sighed. “A good smart boy. He was exactly where he needed to be, under the tutelage of an expert snoop. I already miss our language lessons. As smart as a whip. I even miss Dickey Nail’s glares and smirks.” She laughed, and the others followed, especially Bentwick’s wife.
“Faddon doted on Dickey Nail. I had always thought he took pity on the man, but that wasn’t it…”
“I’ve had enough of this,” Dickey said. He rose to his feet and hobbled into their midst. “As you can see, I am alive, and so is Sam.” He turned to the screen. “Come on out, Sam.”
Winnie stood up, turning red with embarrassment. “You! You were listening in all this time?” She covered her cheeks with her hands.
“I didn’t expect Lady Grate to go on about us,” Sam said, feeling a bit flushed himself.
“Sit down, Sam Smith,” Bentwick’s wife said. She patted the empty chair between Antina and her. “Am I glad to see you. Faddon will be thrilled.”
“And me?” Dickey said.
Mrs. Bentwick just shook her head. “Do as you please.”
Even Antina looked shocked. The only person not emotionally affected by the conversation and revelation was Lady Grate. She just laughed and clapped.
“Isn’t it wonderful that they are alive?” she said.
The other three women nodded their heads in agreement.
“I’ll tell you our story,” Dickey said. He gave them the background from Banna Plunk to Minister Bolt and their early morning abduction from the Royal Jail. “Sam was able to see where we were heading, so we could brace ourselves for the fall into the sea. Sam saved my life at risk to his own.”
Sam blushed. It was the first time Dickey had admitted Sam had pulled Dickey up to the ocean’s surface. “We had help from Havetta,” Sam said. “Neither of us was likely to make it, but a friendly tide washed us up on a tiny beach.” He then finished the tale with showing up at Lady Keeta’s door.
“My, what an adventure,” Mrs. Bentwick said.
“It isn’t over,” Dickey said. “Sam and I need your help. Chief Constable Bentwick needs to be notified, but he must be told not to do anything. Minister Bolt still has all the power over him and the constabulary. Knowing Bolt, we won’t be able to show our faces for a while.”
“I certainly understand that,” Mrs. Bentwick said.
Winnie finally looked at Sam and gave him a weak smile. “That is twice you have stood us up for dinner, Sam Smith.”
They all laughed at Winnie’s comment, and Sam knew that broke the tension he had felt when Dickey barged into the gathering.
Keet brightened. “I took the liberty of having my cook include the boys for lunch. I hope you don’t mind.”
The women all agreed to include them. Dickey surprised Sam by shedding some of his crankiness during lunch. Antina asked if she could tell Tru.
“Only if he can keep the secret,” Dickey said. “Sam needs his wand, the little book, and his spectacles. I doubt if we are finished with Banna Plunk.”
“Plunk?” Antina said.
Sam looked at Antina. “How did you get the book from Banna Plunk’s father?”
“Father?” Antina looked a bit confused. “The book doesn’t mention her. It was delivered to me a few years ago. A Vaarekian ship’s captain was told to deliver it to a Vaarekian woman in Baskin. He had lost the name. Since I am well-known in certain circles, the book was delivered to me. Plunk isn’t an uncommon last name in Vaarek,” Antina said. “Neither is Mulch, if you must know. I kept it, and when Sam told me of Banna Plunk, I neglected to connect the two.”
“There were pollen patches,” Dickey said. He explained what pollen patches were to the others. “The patches covered a letter imploring Banna to curtail her activities. There is a new regime in Vaarek, or was when the letter was written. Banna was active in protesting the takeover.”
“She is right to do so,” Antina said. “A malevolent dictator took over Vaarek and still rules. He has stripped people of their ability to think and speak independently. If I were still in my home country, I’d be working to do something about it. Lady Grate returned the book to me. It might be better in my keeping.”
“We all know what is in it, so it doesn’t matter to me,” Sam said. “I still would like my wand and spectacles.”
“I can retrieve the wand,” Winnie said. “I visit my father at the constabulary often enough.”
“Good. Now we recover and gather information about Minister Bolt’s activities while we wait,” Dickey said.
Sam wasn’t so sure that only Minister Bolt needed to be tracked. He was uneasy about Captain Fork and Banna Plunk. Even though she was a more sympathetic person than before he had read her father’s letter, Banna had still done some awful, awful things. He wanted to talk to Antina Mulch about the pollen magic Professor Plunk had talked about, but it wasn’t the proper place or time.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
~
T ru showed up with a package at Lady Grate’s residence. Keet ushered him into the library. Sam was reading a Vaarekian novel.
“Something for me?” Sam asked.
“For you and for your hostess,” Tru said. He pulled out Sam’s two spare spectacles and the two magnifying glasses. Then he presented a wrapped gift to Keet, who had remained in the room. “This is for you, with my appreciation for helping my brother.”
Keet purred with anticipation while she unwrapped one of Tru’s intricate metal sculptures. “Oh, I’ve heard of these. Thank you very much!”
“You can get cheaper versions from others, now, but this one is an original,” Tru said. He sat down across from Sam.
“I’ll leave you to talk. Thank you, again.” Keet left, closing the door softly.
“So, no Emmy?” Tru asked.
Sam shook his head. “Banna Plunk gave her to the Minister of Justice, Issak Bolt. There is no way I’ll be able to retrieve Emmy.”
“Too bad,” Tru said. “For all my whining about her, she was the best of dogs, in addition to being the biggest of dogs.” He laughed, and that made Sam feel better. “I never did tell our family that you were dead, and I’ll remain silent until you two decide to be resurrected by Havetta.” Tru chuckled again. Tru’s face turned a bit more serious. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them, those who care.”
