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The Maid's War(58)

By:Jeff Wheeler


“The driver is waiting even now, mum,” said one of the servants, wiping his sweaty forehead across his sleeve.

“It better be,” Ankarette said, stepping forward as the line shortened. “Come along. Don’t dawdle.”

“Yes, mum,” said the other, and both heaved at the chests again.

As they reached the guards at the end of the line, Ankarette gave the servants another scolding look. Then she flashed a dimpled smile at the captain of the soldiers. “Any word of the duke’s capture, my friends?” she asked boldly.

“Rumors is all, my lady,” he said, quickly sizing up the two chests. Both were too small to hide a body. He waved her past. “They say he escaped in the night through a privy hole. Messy business. The hounds are on the hunt, but with the smell, it’ll be difficult to follow him. Where is your mistress headed?”

“Chateau Grif,” she answered. “Thank you, Captain.” She gave him another winning smile and he offered a gallant bow in return.

“Come on,” she said, glancing back at the servants again. Then she gave a toss of her head to the captain, acting as if their incompetence was a sore trial in her life. The captain chuckled and waved them through.

As they reached the carriage awaiting them in the crowded courtyard, the two men hefted the bundle up onto the baggage well and secured it with ropes. The driver hopped off the perch and opened the door for her.

“My lady,” he greeted, showing a false tooth and a crooked smile.

“Thank you,” she offered, keeping her nose high in the air in case someone was watching her, and then ducked into the carriage. The window curtains were already closed, so she quickly went to work on the false panel beneath the seat facing the back wall. She could hear the grunting of the men outside, their low jokes, and then one of them slapped the chests.

That was the signal.

The driver climbed back up onto the perch, clicked his tongue, and gave the beasts a little snap with the whip. Both of the men clung to the back of the carriage as it began to lumber across the courtyard. Ankarette sat on the carriage seat and folded her hands in her lap, feeling exhausted from the long night’s interview. The carriage made it to the end of the courtyard before being halted again by the gatehouse guards. Just as she’d expected.

She parted the curtain as a soldier approached. “What is it, sir?” she asked impatiently.

“Are you alone in the carriage, my lady?”

“Of course I am,” she snapped. “See for yourself.”

The soldier nodded and twisted the handle. He poked his head inside, looked both ways, and nodded when he found her alone. “Apologies. It’s the king’s orders that every wagon be searched upon entering and leaving.”

She settled back on the bench and folded her hands across her knees, staring away as if the conversation utterly bored her. The soldier nodded to the driver and then secured the door again. With another click and whistle, the carriage trundled through the gate and across the moat bridge, entering the hive of Pree.

As soon as they were past, Ankarette knelt by the bench and lifted the seat. She’d already removed the plank and she could see the edge of the larger bottom chest. She pried loose the nails and then pulled the edge of the chest open, revealing the soles of two heavy boots.

“Are you quite comfortable, Alensson?” she called into the void.

“It may be a bit crowded, but it’s better than a stinking privy hole,” he said in a muffled tone. Ankarette smiled as she grabbed his ankles and began pulling him into the carriage to join her. He wriggled and squirmed to help, and soon he was sitting on the bench across from her, his gray hair askew, a mischievous smile on his mouth.

“A cunning lass,” he said. “Cutting the boxes in the middle like that and stacking them was an inspired idea. If they’d opened the top one, they would have seen my head and shoulders.”

“If they’d opened the top one, they would have found themselves with daggers in their ribs,” Ankarette answered with a shrug. “One poisoner and two Espion would be more than a match for those simple guards at the porter door. I had planned for the possibility that I might need to kidnap you earlier in the evening. Your eagerness to escape only made the task easier. Now sit down. I have some questions before you continue your story.”

“I assumed you would,” Alensson said. The carriage jogged and tottered a bit as it went across the uneven cobblestones. He parted the curtain with his fingers, glancing worriedly and hopefully at the scene, a small smile of relief twisting one side of his mouth until he let it fall back into place.