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But by all the fates, he wished he could.
* * *
Harris raised an eyebrow at Archie when he returned entirely empty-handed. “What were you doing there?”
“Giving away my inheritance,” Archie said simply.
And now he truly felt free.
Chapter 28
A Cat in Hell’s Chance
Archie understood why the king sent him to investigate the Ogre Marquis and kill the plague dog in Carabus. It wasn’t just because he wanted to give Archie the opportunity to win a title and court his daughter. It was also because of what happened with the Carabus guards and the royal hunting party. The suspicious guards had been quick to send any of the king’s men away, and forcing them to do otherwise was sure to start a bloody conflict the king wasn’t quite ready to risk. Still, the Carabus guards seemed only slightly more inclined to allow in two peasant boys who drove a more innocuous-looking cart of supplies.
And once they crossed the city gates, they were surrounded by several nocuous spears. Harris gulped, and it was left to Archie to speak for the group.
It was his mission, after all.
He put his hands up. “Hello, sirs. We’ve brought the king’s supplies, as promised. We don’t mean you any harm.” Archie had a staff hidden in with the supplies, but that was only on the off chance he got to face the ogre’s monster directly. He had no reason to want to harm any of the commoners of Carabus—in fact, he was sure the king would rather he did not, or a larger and more capable force would have been sent to do the job.
“I understand, friend,” one of the guards said with true remorse in his voice. “But we are under quarantine here. No one who enters may leave, by order of the Marquis, lest we risk spreading our misfortune to others. You understand?”
“You want us to stay here?” Archie looked back at Harris. Archie had intended to stay. Risking himself had been an easy choice to make, but he never wanted to put his brother in danger.
Harris had picked a safer path for himself, and he should be allowed to follow it.
“It’s not so bad,” the guard said, already lowering his spear slightly. “We’re short of men and will need to put you to work as you are able, but we’re not short of women and other comforts. At least, so long as you remain healthy enough to enjoy your share. What is your trade?”
“I’m . . .” Archie hesitated for another moment, but then he became determined. He had not meant to bring his brother into trouble, but now that he had, there didn’t seem to be a way to retreat. He would have to press on with the mission the best he could. Save them both. “Our father was a miller, but Harris knows more about that than I do. He’s also a carrier and can work as a plow-hand so long as he and his animal are treated fairly.”
The man with the spear nodded. “And what about you?”
“I’m Archie.” There was another surge of relief that he still could be so honest. “Just Archie. I worked more with our mother, so I can bake, keep a garden, or do other household labor. Perhaps I could find work at your lord’s manor if he has need.”
Archie had tried to keep his voice casual, but the guard still looked suspicious. Perhaps he should have protested more—or frozen as Harris had done.
“I recognize you,” the guard said, scratching at his beard. “You were with the king and his huntsman when the request for aid was given. And now, you were the one he sent.”
Smart guards. That never happened in a proper faerie story. It was disappointing, but Archie still had a ready answer that was hardly even a lie. “I was never anyone important. I truly am only a miller’s son, same as my brother, but the king’s daughter has been very generous and has done a few favors for me. The king . . . doesn’t approve.”
“I see.” The man laughed at Archie’s apparent misfortune, and just like that, the spear was gone. “So you don’t mind being somewhere your king cannot follow? But I still feel I should warn you: the Marquis goes through staff at his castle rather quickly.”
That did not surprise him, if half the rumors Archie had heard about the Ogre Marquis were true. In fact, this might be the best opening he had to ask his own question. “Is he an ogre then? The Marquis?”
“I’ve never seen an ogre, so what do I know?” The guard’s face had quickly fallen into a careful mask that revealed more than his words alone. “He was human. Before. Now he’s . . . Well, I’ll let you judge for yourself, but I would do my best not to cross him.” And with those final words, another one of the guards called for Harris to get off the cart and follow him.
Harris gave Archie one last look. And it wasn’t the kind of look Archie expected. Instead of being angry or even annoyed, Harris seemed to be asking Archie if he was sure he wanted to separate. One last chance for Archie to give up and ask his elder brother to swoop in and rescue him, but he wasn’t going to give in. Not now.
He would save them both if he could.
Once Harris was gone, the guard directed their cart to move closer to the lord’s castle, Archie sneaking glances at the village square. It wasn’t like Castletown. The people of Carabus looked so downcast. Archie might do nothing else, but at least today, they had brought more food for the people—assuming their lord was willing to share.
The cart was sent to the stables to be unloaded, and Archie was directed toward a kitchen not much different than the one at the matrons’ Charity House, though it was larger. A few people rushed in and out with their work like they were trying not to get caught in the open, but a middle-aged woman worked in the center of the room, along with a young girl peeling turnips.
The guard called to the woman—Helga—and left Archie to her instruction.
“So, you say you can bake? Start baking.” The woman said it like it was a test. Like she was suspicious of him.
