A Touch of Poison Read online

  She was two feet from the door by the time he’d stopped talking, and the sudden absence of noise caused her to freeze in her tracks, mid-tiptoe.

  Her eyes were still focused on the two chairs by the fireplace. Though both men were hidden from view, she saw her father’s hand still atop his armrest, swirling the drink it held in an idle, unconcerned manner.

  “I suppose that would work,” Anifail eventually replied. There was the sound of more papers being shuffled. “Really though, I’d prefer—”

  Gwen took another two steps, grabbed the handle in front of her, and gently swung the door open about a foot or so. Then, holding her breath, she slipped out into the hallway and quietly closed the door behind her in one careful, fluid motion.

  There was a soft ‘click’ as the door fully closed.

  She quickly glanced up and down the hallway, and, seeing nobody at all, breathed a thankful sigh. She then tore down the hallway and back out to the garden, her pulse racing, an excited smile on her face. Cool evening air greeted her, and soon she was running in darkness, blades of grass once more poking between her toes, feeling positively giddy with both excitement and relief.

  She’d done it! She’d sneaked into the study, and with her father and Anifail still in it no less! If she had the nerve required to pull something like that off, actually stealing the pouch and making off with it when they weren’t there might be a piece of cake!

  Tomorrow. She’d do it tomorrow night, perhaps an hour after midnight.

  That meant getting back to her room and smuggling her stuff out the window tonight, so Rhosyn could get everything ready. She’d write a quick note as well, so Rhosyn would know precisely when, and had enough time to prepare the horses. Once she stole the pouch and made her way outside she was pretty sure she’d want to put as much distance between herself and this place as she could, and as quickly as possible.

  Once Gwen had crossed the courtyard garden and made her way back to more familiar surroundings, she opted to locate an empty water jug and fill it. That way, she reasoned, if she was seen returning to her room now, she might have something to explain why she was out of bed at that hour. Come to think of it, the water jug might help with tomorrow night’s activities as well, allowing her to claim she’d become thirsty in the middle of the night and had come down for a drink. She could come downstairs from her bedroom with the jug, and then she’d simply never return.

  The very thought of it made her so happy, she was near tears.

  Water jug in hand, Gwen practically flew up her tower stairs, burst through her bedroom door, closed it behind her, and did a spontaneous dance of happiness. Her heart was still pounding from the excitement of everything, and it felt like the smile on her face would never be leaving.

  Her eyes fell upon the bundle on her bed. What time was it, anyway? It had to be pretty close to midnight by now. Maybe a little past, actually. She’d completely lost track of time, hiding under the desk like she had been.

  Gwen hurried over to her desk and got out her box of inks and quills. She tore a page out of the book she practiced her writing in, dipped a quill in the ink, and scrawled a hasty note.

  Everything’s set. Tomorrow night, an hour past midnight. Meet you at the stables. —G

  She quickly dabbed the excess ink away with a blotter and then blew on the parchment, willing it to dry. Once she’d figured her writing wouldn’t smudge, she folded the paper in half, went to her bed, and tucked it into her travel satchel on top of all the other things she’d already stuffed in there.

  Bundle in hand, she went to her window and leaned forward, looking for some sign of Rhosyn. The moon was out, and she could see reflected bits of moonlight dancing off of the rippling water of the moat, but the grassy area directly below her was too dark to see anything.

  Was Rhosyn even down there?

  Gwen considered for a few moments, then hoisted her bundle up to the window and pushed it out. Once that was done, she leaned back outside to see if she could catch a glimpse of it as it fell.

  The pack was a light beige colour, which made it a little easier to spot, thanks to the moonlight. She watched it silently tumble away from her and into the darkness below. A moment later, she heard the faint ‘whump’ of something soft hitting the grassy ground next to the moat.

  Gwen didn’t have to peer into the darkness for very long before spotting some activity, for it wasn’t long before she could make out a figure in a familiar light cloak pulling away from a nearby section of wall and hurrying over to where her bundle lay. Within moments both the cloaked figure and her travel satchel were gone, nowhere to be seen.

  Tomorrow, then. It was really, really going to happen!

  She practically sprinted over to her bed and dove in, hastily blew out her night lamp, closed her eyes tightly and covered herself with her sheets. All of a sudden, Gwen couldn’t think of anything in the world she wanted more than for tomorrow to hurry up and arrive.

  Chapter 13

  For Gwen, the hardest part of the following day was hiding her smile. She had to force a frown onto her face periodically, occasionally remembering to scowl and look morose. What made it especially difficult was the fact that her father was too busy taking care of wedding arrangements to supervise her meals personally, and Anifail had reportedly left the castle and was not expected back until later that evening. Life was usually a lot more cheerful when she didn’t have to interact with the two of them.

  Of course, as the day progressed it became much easier to keep from smiling, because her anxiousness and uncertainty increased the closer evening got. Though she tried to nap in the afternoon, she found she was too excited, and instead spent a few hours staring up at her ceiling and worrying over details. By bedtime, she was a nervous wreck, and by the time midnight arrived she was more terrified than she could ever remember.

  It wasn’t going to stop her though. Starting a brand new life was probably supposed to be terrifying.

  Gwen waited until well after midnight before changing into her riding clothes and donning her cloak. Then, after a few deep breaths, she grabbed her empty water jug, opened her bedroom door, and quietly walked down the stairs.

  Everything seemed much darker than the previous night, which wasn’t exactly a bad thing. Less light meant less chance of being noticed if she stuck to the shadows and kept to the same route as before. Her cloak was much darker than the one she’d been wearing then, which probably made her more difficult to see. She was wearing her boots this time, however, and had to walk much more slowly than before just to keep quiet.

  She arrived at the bottom of her tower steps in short order, and quickly peeked left and right down the hallways. There was nobody roaming the halls that she could see, most people having gone to bed long ago.

  Gwen followed the same route as she had before, heading to the courtyard garden and making her way to her father’s study in a roundabout way rather than proceeding directly there. As before, she stuck to the shadows and cut through the courtyard garden, stopping just outside the hallway entrance. She could hear no servants chatting in the hallway this time, but Gwen remained outside the entrance for a few moments regardless, readying herself for what she needed to do.

  “You can do this,” she reminded herself in a whisper, putting her empty water jug down on the grassy lawn. “You did it last night, and they were in the room with you then!”

  Well, if her father was in the study tonight, he’d either be reclining in the same chair as the previous night, facing the fire, or he’d be sitting at his desk, and in both cases he’d be facing away from the door. Either way, she’d have a good chance of spotting him before he spotted her.

  Breathing a few deep, relaxing breaths, Gwen grit her teeth and slowly pulled open the door in front of her. When she peered through the entrance and into the hallway, she saw nobody.

  Walking into the hallway, she made her way t
owards the study, though much slower than she had the previous night. If there was anyone nearby, the last thing she wanted to do was to let the ‘clip-clop’ of her boots on the stone floor alert them to her presence.

  Even walking as slowly and carefully as possible, her boots would occasionally make a noise loud enough to cause her breath to catch in her chest.

  When she finally arrived at the study door, she pressed her ear against it and listened carefully. The only sound she could make out was the furious thumping of her own heartbeat.

  Carefully, slowly, Gwen opened the door and slipped inside.

  The fire had burned down to embers, casting a dull red glow over one half of the room while shrouding the other half in darkness. The shadowy stuffed animal heads lining the wall nearest her looked extra spooky in that light, and unnerved her.

  Crouching, she looked across the room at the two chairs sitting next to each other in front of the fireplace. Neither looked to have anybody seated in them. Same with the chair by the desk.

  The study was empty.

  Breathlessly, Gwen hurried over to the desk and opened the drawer, snatched the small leather pouch and tucked it into her pocket. Then she practically flew back to the hallway, quietly closed the door shut behind her, and then quickly made her way back to the courtyard garden.

  In the dark, she almost tripped over her empty water jug. Once she caught herself, she felt bubbles of nervous laughter rising up from her chest, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from letting them out as she picked the jug up with the other.

  It was done, and it had taken her less than a minute. The most difficult part was already over.

  Her journey to the kitchen area was mercifully devoid of any sort of company as well. It began to feel to Gwen as though she were the only one who was even awake at this hour, which was even better than she’d hoped. Everything was going perfectly.

  And then, once she’d arrived at the servant’s entrance near the kitchen, the doors she usually took when she wanted to go outside, she realized who would still be up this late.

  Castle guards.

  Most of the entrances were gated up after a certain hour, the two exceptions being the front entrance, which stayed open and was always guarded, and the servant’s entrance, where kitchen supplies were often delivered. It too was guarded.

  Gwen felt a flutter of panic. She’d occasionally gone out late at night to meet with Rhosyn, but that had been before the new staff, and it hadn’t happened very often. She had no doubt she could play willful princess and get by them without too much trouble, but if she did that they’d certainly remember her. If she left the castle at this hour and didn’t come back, it would arouse suspicion, perhaps cause them to notify her father.

  Why oh why hadn’t she remembered the guards sooner?

  There really wasn’t any other way out of the castle available to her. How could she get out without drawing attention to herself? Her mind raced through some of the possibilities.

  An idea came to her.

  Pulling her cloak hood over her head enough to cover most of her face, she clutched her empty jug firmly and marched purposefully through the servant entrance doors, directly between the two guards standing on either side of it.

  “Oi! You!” a harsh-sounding voice rasped. “Where you goin’?”

  Gwen half-turned towards the two guards, most of her face still hidden, and did her best to sound as tired and annoyed as possible.

  “Water for the kitchen. From the brook,” she said, holding up her jug for emphasis.

  “What’s wrong with the well water?” the second, younger guard asked in a voice that was much less gravelly.

  “Dead pigeons,” she shrugged, already turning back and continuing on her way. “Drowned. Chef found ‘em when he was making tomorrow’s bread.”

  The first guard groaned tiredly.

  “It’s like I keep telling ‘em, put a lid over the damn thing! It’s bad enough catching a chill while on night watch, I don’t need to be eating poison and puking my guts out once my shift’s over.”

  “That sort of thing happen often?” the younger guard asked.

  “Aye, every now and again. Milkmaids want to bring in cats, to keep the stray pigeons and rats away, but Chef says he’ll have none of it. Of course, a few wooden planks’d take care of the whole problem, but I’m just a guard, so what do I know? I swear, make like you know anything about bread, or cookin’, or even common sense, and that guy—”

  Gwen left the two guardsmen to their newest topic of conversation, slowly making her way out into the night, trying to act like she thought a kitchen servant might just in case they were still keeping an eye on her. After a moment’s thought, she began swinging the empty jug back and forth as she walked, as though she were bored enough to try to amuse herself. Before long, she was far enough away that she could no longer hear them talking.

  She stole a glance behind her, and after judging that they could no longer see her in the darkness, she dropped her water jug, changed course and began walking hurriedly towards the stables. Her legs seemed filled with a nervous sort of energy, the kind you felt when you were running down a flight of stairs as fast as you could, barely in control of them at all.

  Aside from the crunching of dry grass and twigs under her boots, the only sounds that could be heard were crickets and frogs sounding off in the nearby grasses. Despite barely being able to see where she was going, and though she had only made trips out to the stables once or twice in the dark, Gwen wasn’t at all worried. In fact, she was so familiar with the paths leading to it that she could probably have walked there with her eyes shut tight.

  After about five minutes or so of trekking she could make out the dark silhouettes of several horses, and the stable as well. The outside torches weren’t lit, but there was a faint light coming from the window that spoke of a candle or lamp burning somewhere inside, likely from the small room that served as Rhosyn’s quarters.

  Gwen crept over to the front door and opened it, tip-toeing into the dimly lit stable area shortly after. She didn’t know why she was creeping exactly, but now that all of the difficult stuff was behind her…well, sneaking around in the dark was just kind of fun. She couldn’t ever remember being this excited before.

  Once inside, she looked around briefly. There were two packs, one of which was hers, sitting against the wall just inside the entrance, and Gwen could see two heavily laden saddle-bags draped over a nearby table. A small lamp burned on a dresser by Rhosyn’s bed, providing just enough illumination for Gwen to see the huddled bundle of blankets in the bed next to it.

  “Rosie!” Gwen called in a hushed voice. “I’m here! Time to go.”

  The bundle moved and shifted a little. Gwen rolled her eyes impatiently.

  “Come on, sleepyhead! It’s not my fault if you didn’t think to nap this afternoon!” she admonished, picking up her travel pack. “Did you manage to get everything we needed?”

  Suddenly, the blanket covering the bundle was thrown to one side, and Gwen let out a short, sharp exclamation of surprise. Her travel pack slipped from her fingers, forgotten.

  “Well,” said Anifail, his voice dangerously quiet, “I was wondering when you were finally going to show up.”

  Chapter 14

  “W-what are you doing here?” was all Gwen could think to ask. Her legs scarcely felt up to the task of holding her upright all of a sudden.

  “Me? Doing? Why, I’m resting,” Anifail said, still reclining lazily on Rhosyn’s bed. “Relaxing a bit. Being a captain is hard work. I honestly didn’t intend to lie down when I first got here, but this bed looked so comfortable that I just had to give it a try.” He pressed a hand against the bedding, as though demonstrating how pliant it was. “Bundled cotton — who knew peasant stuffing could be so agreeable to sleep on? Why, I have half a mind to swap my down-filled bedding with�
�”

  “What have you done with Rhosyn?” Gwen half-screamed. “Where is she?”

  “Oh, relax, Princess. I haven’t done anything to her… she’s perfectly safe.” Anifail flashed her a quick grin. “Or at least, she was perfectly safe the last time I saw her.”

  Gwen quickly converted as much of her fear into anger as she could, and focused it. She gave a significant look at Anifail’s bandaged hand, and then regarded him coolly.

  “I’ll give you a choice, Captain. You can tell me where she is, right now, or—” Gwen took off one of her riding gloves and gave Anifail as deadly and serious a look as she could manage, “I can listen to you desperately trying to tell me between screams of agony.”

  Anifail chuckled sadly at her, shaking his head.

  “My, such a dangerous little minx all of a sudden. So fierce, so terrifying! Ooooooh!” He shook his outstretched hands at her in faux terror. “Why, if it weren’t for my years and years of training, I fear I might wet myself right here and now.”

  “Make all the jokes you want, but if you don’t tell me where she is, you won’t be walking out of here! I promise you that!”

  “Oh, you promise? Dear gracious me.” Anifail creased his brow, as though in thought. “But what about your crystal in the temple? What would the Goddess think of you after doing something as awful as what I fear you might be suggesting?”

  “I think the Goddess would make an exception,” Gwen spat. “We don’t lose her favour by killing roaches or other vermin, after all.”

  “How clever. Well then, how about this instead? I’m not going to tell you where Rhosyn is, but allow me tell you a little bit about her situation, using small, easy to understand words. And once I’ve done that, if you still want to torture or kill me, you’ll have my blessing.”