Char stumbled through the drizzle, laden with a pile of boxes, bags, fabric, and shoes bigger than she was.
"This had better be everything," she grumbled. James walked alongside her, picking up all the things she dropped. He soon had as big a pile as she did.
"Did you remember her olive green dress?" he asked. Char's eyes widened and she almost dropped her load.
"Wait… She doesn't have one!"
"No. But it was worth it to see your face," James replied. Char dumped the rest of her stuff on him.
"So there."
Beth and Seth were strolling along behind them.
"Isn't it great? I get to come along, since my master was planning on taking this route anyway," Seth was exclaiming. "He'll even let me ride along with you two!"
"But I won't," Char told him. "If you try to ride along with us, I'll stuff you in this box." She pulled out Beth's tiny jewelry box.
"Can't your father afford servants to carry all this to the carriage?" James asked as the pile tumbled down.
"No. He can't even manage a second carriage for it. Barnabas was forced to supply guards," Beth answered.
"You'll need the guards," said Seth, helping James gather up the things again. "They say there's this band of outlaws in Barnesdale Forest, and Barnabas is having a tough time getting rid of them." James dropped the pile in the back of the small carriage. He sat for a moment on the thinly padded bench, until Char shoved him out.
"Time to go," she called. "Farewell!"
"Bye! I'll visit you someday!" James shouted back.
Three hours later, Beth and Char were to the point of twiddling their thumbs with boredom.
Beth sighed.
Beth sighed again.
Beth sighed once more.
Beth sighe—
"Stop sighing!" Char commanded. Beth looked exceedingly bored.
"How about a story?" Beth suggested.
"I suppose…" Char trailed off. Then she began to tell a tale off the top of her head. Neither was now twiddling her thumbs. A few hours later, darkness settled in and Char's story ended.
"That was marvelous," Beth said in awe. Someone clapped. Puzzled, Char and Beth went to the tiny window to see no one. The guards, driver, and bards were gathered around a fire. The clapping continued for a while, then stopped. The girls went to the back of the carriage to examine the boxes. One shook slightly. Char waved for Beth to stand back. She carefully lifted the lid. A mop of red hair popped out, and underneath, James, stretching and breathing deeply.
"Better. Nice story, Char," he commented. She turned a few colors. Beth giggled and James smiled impishly.
"Glr—splkrk—Gah!" she spluttered. Someone knocked, then entered the carriage. It happened to be Seth.
"ARRGGHHHH!" Char came at him, hands outstretched in strangling position. Beth and James calmly held her back.
"Good evening, Seth. I'm glad to see you," Beth greeted him.
"YOU APPRENTICE OF A—" There Beth shoved a shoe in Char's mouth and smiled again at Seth.
"Did you hear Char's story?" James asked him.
"I overheard some of it," he said, frowning a little. He was a bit upset at how much better she was at storytelling than his master, Henry. "It wasn't too bad for an amateur."
"I thought it was great! At least the parts I could hear from the box," James said.
"Well, you are a stableboy. I have had an excellent education, heard the finest tales by the best minstrels in Europe, know both Greek and Latin—"
"Really?" asked Beth, who had wanted someone to try her self-taught Latin on. "Tu callidus es. Quis erat tuus magister?"
Seth tried to look smart, but he couldn't quite pull it off. There was confusion written all over his face.
"Ha! You lie!" Char said smugly.
"I do not lie! If you weren't a girl, I'd demonstrate my extensive training in the art of—uh—fighting."
"Oh, I'm not always a girl," Char said innocently. "At least not when I fight. Then my lady, and those I beat, say I'm more of a beast."
"I can attest to that," James added. "The last time I got in a skirmish with her was at age seven. That turned out to be the year I vowed never to fight a girl again. Strictly because of chivalry, of course."
Seth now looked rather proud in the light of the oil lamp. "Of course. But you are a mere stableboy; I am nearly a noble." Beth coughed. James shrugged. Char lunged at him.
"Oops, there she goes," James said mildly.
"Don't break his fingers. He does need to play his harp," Beth told Char.
"She couldn't—OW!" The fight was over in minutes. Seth, 'ow'ing, 'ouch'ing, and using various expletives, barely touched Char.
"I yield! Ouch!" he panted finally. He plopped down, inspecting wounds. Char smiled nicely and demurely sat by Beth.
"Told you," James said.
"Well, now that you two have had your fun, would you tell another story?" Beth asked.
"Just to add insult to injury. Injuries," James said, settling into one of the softer bags. Seth just sulked as Char began her story. But he got more and more excited as the night, and the tale, wore on, though. At around midnight Char finally finished.
"That was amazing! I loved it! I mean," Seth quickly amended himself. "It wasn't bad for a maid." Char might've said something had he not proved her own point already. So instead, she just looked at him, smug as a cat. Still trying to prove her incompetent, Seth spoke up again. "I'm sure I've heard that story before, though. Not from a bard, from a book. You must've read—"
"I can't read."
"Oh," Seth looked quite surprised.
"Yep, he's certainly 'nearly a noble'. Only one of those would expect a commoner to be educated," James said.
"Anyway," Seth broke in hastily. "Wouldn't it be exciting to go on an adventure like the one in the story? James could distract the guards while the rest of us sneak away. Then—"
"Nope," said Char and James together. Beth looked uncertain.
"Oh, come on," Seth pleaded. "James, you're the stowaway stableboy in a box. You certainly don't seem to have anything against adventures."
"Actually, that rather cramped experience occurred only because Beth, despite her quiet, mild manner, tends to get into trouble, and I need to help Char keep Beth from doing the sort of thing YOU suggest!" Beth tried to look innocent.
"Well, I think it's a great idea!" she said. "First of all, I know that girls my age marry men far older and worse than Dennison. But you see, I haven't seen Dennison since we were eight, at some archery contest. And he threw mud on my dress."
"And then I beat him up," Char added. "But I still don't want you running off into the woods."
"Don't you care what Beth wants, though?" Seth challenged her.
"W—" Char began angrily.
"More than that is the politics. Let's say I don't like Dennison. I'll find some way to get out of it. Frogs may appear in beds, slippers be found with thorns in them, horses mysteriously escape—"
"Not the horses!" James exclaimed.
"And if Barnabas finds out I'm doing it, which he's bound to eventually, it will reflect very badly on my father and on Selby in general. Which may very well start a war. On the other hand, if I mysteriously disappear on the way there, with only Barnabas's guards around, it will reflect very badly on Barnabas. Which could be very good for Selby and my father." Beth fell to her customary silent state as Char fumed.
"Fine. Off we go. To our certain doom."
"When do we leave?" James asked glumly.
"A little after dusk tomorrow. Beth and Char, you're in charge of provisions. That means food and water. James, you figure out some diversion. I'll lead the way and bring tools and weapons. We'll go over the plan tomorrow as soon as we stop for the night," Seth directed.