Quest for AnswersA Chapter by SpeedyHobbit Armstrong "It was unlikely, but Kiran needed to eliminate all possibilities that the nineteen-year-old was safely in the limits of the Duke’s estate before creating the panic that would arise if word got out" Kiran stopped by his house to change out of his City Watch attire into a green tunic, dark brown hose, black boots and his gold cloak. After he’d informed his servants that he would not be eating at home, issued instructions about cleaning and picking up groceries, and given permission to make themselves dinner with what he had before returning to their houses, the paladin set off for the Duke’s. To the west, the sky was resplendent with the colors of dusk. To the east, the sky was darkening to the inky black of night. The Duke’s holding rose up into the air atop the tallest hill within Northchester limits, obscuring the setting sun itself and towering over the rest of the city. The cobblestone main roads leading out of the city were crowded with suppertime traffic as the carts of those who inhabited bordering villages made their way home for the day. When Kiran drew near the gates, he looked to see who he had put on duty for the evening. Kiran, in addition to his other duties as both a paladin and the Constable of Northchester, had been put in charge of setting the schedules for the outdoor guards at the Duke’s. Despite being the one to make the schedule for the week, however, the paladin did not have it memorized. There was too much on his plate. He hoped they were people he and the Duke deemed trustworthy enough to tell about the hobbits. Much to his relief, he saw a swarthy, brown-skinned man with tight, textured black curls that extended straight out from his head. Jonas. His partner had extremely pale skin that starkly contrasted his black hair and eyes the color of steel. Mauro. Both were enough in his confidence that they knew Kiran had experienced trouble in Dremeadow and brought back dozens of refugees with him. While their presence was impossible to keep completely secret, most in the area were left under the vague impression that the hobbits were there as the result of some form of agreement between the Benoits and Drémeadow’s royal family. Jonas and Mauro immediately moved to open the gate. Rather than pass through with a quick greeting as he typically did, however, Kiran beckoned them towards him. When he saw the nervous looks on both faces, he suspected that his own face must be particularly grim. Good. While he never liked unwittingly making his employees think they were in some sort of trouble with him, Kiran did not want them underestimating the gravity of his current quandary. Once both gatekeepers were in whispering range, Kiran hissed “have you seen their leader?” All of the Duke’s staff were part of an understanding that they were not to explicitly discuss the refugees, particularly Folco, outside the mansion itself. It helped that most of the halflings were homebodies by nature. The children might be given to wandering, but the adults showed little desire to leave the abode where even the large attic offered relative comfort. It was crowded, but Kiran knew that they would take a warm, cramped attic with guaranteed meals in their bellies over huddling together under blankets in caves or clearings exposed to wintry elements any day. Most would. The brown-faced guard responded, “no, sir, not since he and some other youngsters left.” Mauro shook his head in the negative, straw-colored hair rippling with the momentum. “Thank you Jonas, Mauro…” The paladin swallowed hard. Is there any way he might have gotten in without these two seeing him? It was unlikely, but Kiran needed to eliminate all possibilities that the nineteen-year-old was safely in the limits of the Duke’s estate before creating the panic he knew would arise if word got out about Folco’s absence. The refugees struggled to keep hope as it was. With a final nod, the constable made his way towards the doormen. They had not seen the errant hobbits either. Once inside, Kiran entered a side chamber, one of several sitting-rooms, towards the beechwood stairs that led up towards the attic. A cluster of three halfling women sat on one of the loveseats sharing a large book on sewing that they had borrowed from the Duke’s library of books. They were admiring one of the sketches reproducing decorations sewn into a handkerchief. “Excuse me, ladies?” Kiran said, stopping in front of the halflings. As they craned their necks to look at him he noticed, with slight amusement, that their feet were only a few inches past the edge of the seat. “Have you seen Prince Folco?” They shook their heads, puzzled. One looked about to ask a question“Thank you. Enjoy your book.” He managed a reassuring smile before ascending the stairs. The attic had nearly emptied for supper. The remaining halfings were cutting loose threads from their worn clothes, taking turns with brushing or combing their hair, washing their faces, or searching for clever ways of concealing holes and patches in their clothing. The paladin looked around for any child from earlier. His gaze fell upon Donna Tofty combing her little cousin’s hair. As he drew near, he heard Donna’s scolding “Roxy, will you please sit still half a minute so I can get these knots out?” “You keep pulling my hair!” accused the tiny lass. Donna exasperatedly replied, “that’s because you keep moving. If you’d sit still for a moment that wouldn’t happen.” Roxy desisted, not because of what her cousin said, but because the five-year-old had noticed Kiran’s ankles and feet. She craned her head all the way backwards. “Roxy! Why are you tip- oh, hullo, Kiran,” Donna said, pausing in the midst of running a comb through the matted hair. “How are you?” Kiran asked “Has Folco come back?” Donna frowned slightly. “No. We checked a few places but it got dark.” Kiran sighed. “Very well. Could you show me where he’s put his stuff?” Donna, with Roxy skipping behind, led Kiran towards a mattress in one of the back corners with two packs, one cloth with buttons and one leather with gold fastenings. “He and Lindo are sharing this one. That’s Folco’s and that’s Lindo’s,” she added unnecessarily, pointing at the leather with gold for Folco and the cloth for Lindo. Their bows and quivers rested against the wall. Their sheathed swords and lay in front of them. Kiran cringed, making a note to advise both, especially the prince, to carry at least one weapon anytime they left the Duke’s. “Has anyone touched their stuff?” “No,” answered Donna. “All right. I'm going to check their bags to see if anything is missing- if they come back and start raising a fuss about their stuff not being in the same spot, please let them know it was me who was going through their bags, since I was worried about their absence.” Donna nodded. Kiran unfastened the gold clasp on Folco’s bag. The obvious thing to check for was the red velvet pouch in which he kept some of his money. Removing a waterskin and tiny dagger and shifting aside some parchment with the prince’s handwriting, he saw the purse nestled in a corner. After shifting through the rest of the contents and then Lindo’s pack, Kiran was certain the prince and his friend had taken nothing. Staring fearfully at Folco and Lindo’s belongings, Kiran found his mind wandering back to the chaos of the night Queen Arabella had succumbed to poison. The paladin shuddered, remembering the dreadful scene that unfolded after the king’s order. He’d managed to protect the innocent lives only by a hairsbreadth. Kiran took leave of the two lasses and headed toward the stairs leading down from the attic. If Folco was not in the dining hall, the Duke would need to be informed that the prince was unaccounted for as soon as possible.
© 2014 SpeedyHobbit ArmstrongAuthor's Note
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SpeedyHobbit ArmstrongLong Island, NYAboutMy name is Cher Armstrong, also known as Speedy Hobbit. I'm a USATF athlete in racewalking for the Raleigh Walkers club team. I just graduated from Queens College in Queens borough in New York Ci.. more..Writing
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