When he had passed, Brice leaned closer. “We can go see him if you like.”
“Not yet, but I had to know he’s well. I’ll send for him later.”
“Anything else you want to see or know about?”
“No, he’s all I care about in this place.”
Brice sat taller. “Then let’s follow the road see where it takes us.”
She smiled. “It had better take us to the King’s Palace.”
A day later, in the early morning, they sat at the crest of another hill and admired the tall, gray structure that was the King’s Palace. Only one army patrol had passed them, and it hadn’t taken the time to question them. The main gate was to the right, but Hannah planned to enter via a smaller, side gate. Despite fewer people passing through, there were fewer guards.
Brice said, “We haven’t talked about how we will enter—and what we will do once inside. How will we avoid Princess Elenore and her entourage of killers and supporters?”
Hannah said, “Well, I know she’s been planning and setting traps to prevent me from gaining entrance for years, but don’t forget I’ve had the same time to plan. I’ve considered a hundred options, but only one seems right.”
“Which is?”
“I enter the way I left.” She spurred her horse and trotted ahead, where a cluster of people waited for the gate to open. Hannah turned the horse onto a game trail and when out of sight from the road, climbed down. She selected several items from her pack, then hung it from a branch on a tree.
“What are we doing?”
“Leave everything here. Keep your hands free, and take nothing with you that will alarm the guards.”
Then what?”
“Just follow my lead. We’re going inside to the market to find a knife for my birthday. You’ll tell anyone who asks that our mother saved her egg money for it.”
Brice said, “That’ll get us inside, then what?”
“We will buy a rope.” She turned and walked back onto the road, after removing the bridles and turning the horses loose. He joined her, and they walked into the crowd of perhaps thirty people waiting for the guards to open the gate.
The waiting people were getting restless before the gate creaked and swung. The crowd surged ahead, nearly all heading directly for the open market. Hannah allowed them to carry her along, as her eyes scanned the crowd, the guards, the observers high on the ramparts, and even faces in windows.
There was an air of excitement she didn’t remember. But the dancers, singers, and musicians in the market hadn’t begun yet, either. With Brice at her heels, she ducked down an aisle and pretended to choose a hat from a display while studying the guards and castle walls. Then, when she felt sure nobody followed, she moved to another stall.
“Help you find something?” a small voice near her knee asked. A boy stood there, hands on hips, eyes fastened on hers.
“Rope,” she said. “About as big around as my finger.”
“Follow me, I know a man who makes the best in the entire market and he’ll give it to you at a low price because you’re with me.”
She laughed. The boy provided additional misdirection, and she welcomed it. She said, “Well then, I suppose I should reward you.”
“Yes, you should. I think a full copper is a fair price, don’t you? The seller will save you that much, and you have to count the time I save you.”
Hannah liked the urchin, even though he tried to charge ten times what his services were worth. She pulled a thin-copper, twice what she should pay, and held it where he could see it.
“Or, a thin would work,” he said as his greedy eyes found the coin.
“Only if I strike a deal with the seller. Agreed?”
“You can trust me to hold the coin. You might lose it,” he said, making a sad face.
“No, I can’t trust you, and we both know it.”
He shrugged and headed in the precise direction she wanted to go. They arrived at a stall where ropes, new and used, were coiled and hanging on display. She flipped the coin into the air, and it disappeared.
“Is he bothering you?” the heavy man in the stall asked.
“Not at all. We’re old friends. He said you’re the man to see for rope,” Hannah said.
The man winked at the boy, and would no doubt be more kind to him in the future, and perhaps a small token of appreciation would change hands. He said, “So it’s rope you need?”
“Only a short one, today. Strong enough to hold me, maybe ten paces long, it does not have to be new.”
He waved a hand at his inventory on display. “See what you want?”
She did and pointed.
“Only two shields, or a full copper. It’s been gently used.”
“One shield and three shims if you know of a good knife seller nearby. I’ll tell him you sent me.” The knife seller would owe the rope vendor for the referral, but accepting the first offer in a market is a sign of weakness, and the merchant would remember her.
“Make that four shims, and you have a rope. The knife seller you want is right over there,” he pointed and then reached for the rope.
Brice had remained quietly watchful, shifting positions to keep an eye on anyone who might be sneaking up on them. The knife seller had his wares displayed on a table. She spotted a throwing knife similar to her old one but didn’t reach for it. Instead, she selected a small knife that would fit inside a small scabbard at her waist and dickered over the price. Just as she was about to pay, she lifted the other and quickly examined it. “Is this for throwing?”
“Please be careful. Both edges are sharp, and that is something I’m reluctant to sell to you, son.”
“I always wanted to learn. Brice, will you buy this and teach me?”
“You throw?” the vendor asked.
“Enough to be sure to supervise a boy wanting to learn. May I hold it?” Brice made a brief show of deciding, then nodded.
Hannah paid and carried the two knives safely tucked into a sheet of thick material . She steered them to a seller of meat pies and bought two for each, then as they ate, appearing like any two farmer-boys in the market, they drifted to an area where less expensive things were for sale.
After she had assured herself no one was watching them, she moved into a small alley. They walked along it and then crossed over to another alley she remembered. Soon, they reached a tiny courtyard filled with broken wheels, wagon tongues, and two decrepit benches.
“Check to see we’re alone.”
Brice darted down the way they’d come, then checked the other intersecting alleys. Hannah looked up at the balcony and the chimney at one side. She stuffed the knives inside her waistband and uncoiled the rope. The deserted courtyard was protected from casual sight on all sides, and the few windows she could see were empty of faces.
She tossed the coil of rope above the chimney trying to get it to uncoil as it passed behind the top stones. It fell short. She gathered it and tried again. Her third try succeeded.
She grabbed the other end and made them about equal. Then, with a look at Brice for luck, she took both ends in her hands and pulled herself up, using the protruding stones on the wall for steps as she placed the toe of her boot on them. In seconds, she was level with the familiar small balcony two stories above the ground.
She waved for Brice to follow and when he reached the railing, she reached over and grabbed the back of his shirt to help lift him. He half-fell onto the balcony.
“Why are we doing this?” he asked as she pulled the rope free and coiled it.
Hannah turned and took in the accumulated dried leaves and sticks, the unwashed stones, and evidence of a family of mice living near the door. All were as hoped. She said, “Keep a lookout.”