Chapter 5: Baileywick

"Take her to the dungeon!" he hears the King say.

Oh, dear, Baileywick thinks to himself. Poor Sofia.

Flashback

Baileywick stood on the sidelines ready to serve as Roland the first and Roland the second were practicing fencing. Roland the second looked at his dad who towered over him. "Assume your position," Roland the first's voice boomed. Roland the second did as instructed.

"Ready, and...go."

Roland the second struck the wooden sword towards his dad. His dad blocked it and countered the attack hitting the 13 year old boy in the ribs. Roland the second backed away and winced, clutching his side.

"Pain is for the weak James," Roland the first said. "Come on. Let's go again."

Roland lunged at his father again with a different strike. And again Roland the first blocked it, countering by pushing back and making him slide backward on his feet.

"Is that the best you can do? You must always strike and be prepared for a counter attack from your enemy."

Roland the second charged and struck again with more force. Roland the first saw and blocked. "Not bad trying to catch me off guard. But you're still not good enough." Roland the first handed his wooden sword to Baileywick."Perhaps Baileywick can practice a little more with you. I have other things to do." Once Baileywick took the sword from the king, the king walked off and back to the castle, leaving Baileywick with a young Roland.

"Will you practice with me?" the young prince asked.

"Of course, your highness. Although I must admit, It has been a while since used a sword. My father taught me when I was your age."

"How old are you now?"

The young Baileywick chuckled. "Well, I try not to reveal my age, but if you promise you won't tell..."

"I won't tell."

"Alright then, I am 39."

"Wow. Okay. I won't tell, as long as you practice with me."

"Right, let's get back to it." Baileywick stands in front of Roland assuming a fighting position. "Ready?"

The young prince nods his head. "Begin!" Their swords collide as they continue their practice.

Present

Baileywick walks into the king's office with a frown on his face. "Your majesty, I really must protest."

"Really Baileywick? Because I'm not in the mood."

"I know sire, but Widow Belthazar is a very kind woman and I don't think she's done anything deserving of being locked in the dungeon."

"Yes she did. She opened that mouth of hers and insulted me."

"She may have erred by doing that, but as with anyone, she has a business to run. By keeping her locked up, she can't make shoes for the farmers who harvest the crops that help the kingdom."

"So?"

"Your majesty, without her, the kingdom could start to fall apart faster. And she may have other responsibilities as well, besides her business."

"Like what?"

"Like a house to take care of, or a family."

"Didn't you say she was a widow?"

The king's change in tone momentarily catches he steward off guard. "Yes, but she could still have a family or at the very least a pet to take care of."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. I'm just saying she could."

"Well, it doesn't matter now. She shouldn't have insulted me."

"Are you sure that's the only reason you locked her up?"

"What other reason would there be?"

"That you don't like her?"

"Don't like her?" he scoffs. "I can't stand that woman."

"Is it because she's honest and doesn't yell at you like you do her?"

"Partly. But also because she's annoying."

"Annoyingly charming, you mean?"

"You're correcting me Baileywick."

"Yes, I am. But you know I'm right."

"I know you don't know what you're talking about."

"Maybe so. But I know attraction when I see it."

"I am not attracted to her in any way," Roland huffed.

"If you dig deep enough, somewhere inside you, you know I'm right," Baileywick says bowing and leaving the room.

Later into the afternoon, Baileywick goes to his room and puts on some of his old clothes that he wore when he lived in the village. He sneaks out of the castle and borrows one of the horses from the stables. He stays in the forest to remain hidden from sight. He comes out when it is safe and sees a woman hanging her laundry.

"Excuse me miss," he says.

"Yes?"

"Can you tell me where the cobbler lives please?"

"Sure. The shop is just down the road a ways. Go past the tower with the blue roof and it's just three doors down from there. It has a purple window that you can't miss."

"Thank you kindly."

"Pleasure sir," the woman replies.

Baileywick continues walking down the road and eventually finds the shop. He ties his horse to the hitching post out front and looks in the window at all the shoes on display. She does beautiful work, Baileywick thinks to himself. I can't understand why King Roland is so displeased with her.

Baileywick knocks on the door and waits. After a minute or so, there's still no answer. "No one is there, sir," a woman with a cogney British accent says behind him.

"Oh, okay. I suppose I'll have to return later."

"Can I help you with something?"

"Hmm, perhaps you can. Do you happen to know a Mrs. Hanshaw?"

"Sure I do." The woman pointed to the side. "She lives just a couple streets over. I could show you if you like."

"That would be delightful. Thank you."

The woman leads him along. "I haven't seen you 'round here before. Are you new to town?"

"In a way, yes I am."

"Where'd you come from?"

"Not too far away."

"You're bein' awfully cryptic."

"I prefer to think of it as mysterious."

The woman chuckles. "Do ya have a name, or should I jus' call you Mr. Mysterious?"

Baileywick chuckles. "My name isn't important. What is important is that I find Mrs. Hanshaw."

"If you were lookin' for her, then why were you at the cobbler's house? Your shoes look fine."

"I was hoping the cobbler, or someone who lives there could tell me."

"But how do ya know the cobbler would know?"

"Someone told me the cobbler knows Mrs. Hanshaw. So, there I was."

"Well, the only person who lives with the cobbler is her daugh'er."

"Her?" he asks playing along.

"Yes. Oh, that's right. You're new here. Miranda is her name."

"And she raises a daughter by herself? What happened to her husband?"

"No one knows for sure, because she'll tell a different story every time you ask 'er."

"And you thought I was being cryptic?"

The woman laughs again. "Alright, I see your point."

"I didn't catch your name, miss."

"Well, like yours, it's not impor'ant."

"Alright, fair enough."

"Why is it so urgent you find Mrs. Hanshaw?"

"Well, let's just say that a friend of hers may be…trapped."

"Trapped? How?"

"I cannot say. I've said too much already."

"Is there a way to free this friend?"

"With a lot of convincing from her captor."

"Who's her cap'er?"

"I can't say. That's why I need the help of Mrs. Hanshaw."

"What can she do?"

"Well, for one thing, she can take care of the cobbler's daughter in her absence."

The woman smiles and gestures to the house. "Here we are," she says. "This is Mr and Mrs. Hanshaw's house."

"Thank you kindly miss no-name."

She smiles. "DeAngelo, Violet DeAngelo."

"Baileywick" Baileywick says extending a hand. "Just Baileywick."

"Nice t' meet ya, Mr. Baileywick"

"You as well, Ms. Violet," Baileywick says shaking her hand.

She lets go and clears her throat quietly. "I wish ya the best in freeing that person."

"Thank you. Farewell."

"Goo'bye!"

Baileywick turns around and knocks on the door of the house. A woman answers. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes. Are you Helen Hanshaw?"

"That depends on who's asking."

"I am Baileywick, the castle steward."

"You certainly don't look like a castle steward."

"I wasn't trying to. I'm trying to blend in," he says quietly.

"Please, come in."

"Thank you," Baileywick says as he steps inside.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you. I'm assuming you're Helen?"

"That would be correct."

"Is there anyone else here?"

"No."

"I understand your uneasiness. I would be the same way if I were in your position."

"What are you here for?"

"It's about the village cobbler, Miranda."

"What about Miranda? What's happened?"

"King Roland has locked her up in the dungeon of the castle."

"He did what?" Helen shouts.

"Please keep your voice down. I don't want to raise suspicion in the town."

"My apologies."

"I understand. What I really came here for is a concern too. I just wanted to know if she has a family."

"She does."

"Who?"

"She has a child about my daughter's age. Her name is Sofia."

"I need you to take her in until I can convince King Roland to set Mrs. Belthazar free. Can you do that?"

"Of course, anything. And what will I tell Sofia regarding her mother's absence?"

"I would tell her half of what is true. Don't tell her about the dungeon, but perhaps that her mother is held up by her business. She'll be back as soon as she can. I leave that in your capable hands," Baileywick says standing up. "And please, try not to cause alarm."

"I'll try my best."

"Thank you for your help. I will inform Ms. Miranda of where her daughter is, so she'll know where to come when she's set free."

"Thank you."

With that, Baileywick leaves Mrs. Hanshaw's house and walks back to the castle.

He walks through the servants passage undetected and straight down to the dungeon. Keeping his hood over his head. He walks past the sleeping guard and over to the darkest corner of the dungeon, where he knows the king will have put her. He approaches her cell. He can't see her, but he can hear her shaky breathing.

"Wh-who's there?" she says. Her can hear the trembling in her voice.

He lifts his hood and smiles, trying his hardest to ignore the smell in there. He doesn't know how anyone can stand it. "It's me, Ms. Miranda. I'm Baileywick, the castle steward."

"Wh-what are you doing h-here? Have you c-come to f-free me?"

Baileywick's head drops. "Only the orders of his majesty can free you, Ms."

"Oh, I see."

"I'm sorry. You must know that my heart aches to see you in here."

"Thank you, but I don't need your sympathy."

"I know you don't." Baileywick drew in a breath. "The reason I came here is because I wanted to tell you something. It's about Sofia."

Baileywick jumps when Miranda lunges toward the cell bars. "Where is she? Is she alright? Is she safe?"

At first, Baileywick is frightened by her. But in the faint stream of light, he looks into her eyes. He sees not a lunatic. He never thinks that of her. No, he sees the eyes of a worried mother. "Ms. Sofia is safe in the hands of Mrs. Hanshaw."

Miranda let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness. Did you arrange that?"

"I did, ma'am."

"Thank you. There is no one I trust more to take care of Sofia, than Helen."

"I figured that."

"Thank you."

"I don't know how long you'll be in here, but I wanted you to know that Sofia is safe, however long that may be."

"Thank you. You've been very kind."

"It's my pleasure, my lady," he says.