Title: Being Valter
Chapter: Somethings you’re better off not knowing
Genre: Fantasy, Middle Grade
Rating: G
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A direct approach would get him nowhere. Stiig had forsaken the main palace entrances for the servants gateway, but the two guards stationed there had wanted to challenge him. As wrong as it felt for two foreign men to be standing guard on the palace, they did wear the proper livery and Stiig could not justify knocking their heads together, so he’d retreated to gather his thoughts. He was at a loss for what to do; he had always heard that palace servants had lose lips and he’d hoped to capitalize on that. But no one was coming or going from the servants entrance.
Something just wasn’t right. Why hadn’t the prince come to greet them? Who were these strange men in their country’s colors standing guard at the palace? Mid-thought, he heard a grunting and a few leaves fell from the tree in front of him. And then legs appeared!
Things were only getting stranger.
A young woman slithered out of the tree and landed on the empty avenue with a heavy thud. Duty bound to protect his country from any perceived threat, here was one he could investigate. Before she could run away, he put a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place.
“Where are you coming from?”
Her whole body jerked, and then slowly she turned around. She looked at him like something might look at a manack before it snapped up its dinner. Her eyes took up nearly half her face and she smelled strongly of soap.
She clasped her hands in front of her breast and looked up at him pleadingly. “They wouldn’t let me leave, and I have to get home,” she squeaked out.
He had thought she was only a girl, but she was just a very small woman. Stiig was useless at determining women’s ages so she could be five years younger than him or ten older and he wouldn’t know the difference. “Why not?”
She shuddered again in his grasp, as if his voice were the trigger to her spasms. “I don’t know sir. Things are strange.”
“Strange?” He bent down and put his face on level with hers. “How so?”
She licked her lips and shifted her weight. “Well, sir, these strange, foreign fancy men come to see the Royals. The army men came back and the prince didn’t go out to see them. And then there are strange men posted at the gates and no one knows who they are. No one is saying anything, I’m only a scullery maid, I don’t know anything.”
For a scullery maid she spoke well, as if someone had taken the time and effort to educate her. Stiig looked her over; she was wearing sturdy clothes, splattered with food and wet in places. She seemed to be telling the truth and anyways, she wasn’t going to be involved with this. She was just a scullery maid. Stiig needed to find a magician; someone who would have the power to know what was going on.
“Who were the men who came this morning?”
She shook her head, the scarf wrapped around her hair moving with the motion. A strand of wheat colored hair slipped out to caress her cheek. “I don’t know, sir. I’m only a scullery maid.”
“Right,” he let her go and stood up. By all accounts he was being paranoid; these men could be envoys, diplomat types who would see to government matters he wouldn’t understand. But Stiig couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. “Go home,” he waved her off, transferring his attention to the wall and thus his second problem. Getting to the bottom of this.
Paranoid he might be, but usually for the right reasons. He’d survived long years fighting barbarians. He’d kept himself and others alive by listening to his hunches and right now they were screaming that something was very, very wrong. He’d decided without realizing it that he was getting into the palace. There were bound to be guards inside who knew what was going on and would tell him; if he could just find the right people he could calm his nerves or raise the troops.
“You’re not going to – do anything, are you?”
He’d dismissed her already in his mind and was surprised that she hadn’t left. She stood stock still, gazing up at him, her eyes unreadable and – the fear gone.
“You’d be better off not knowing.”
Her face grew tight and she looked at him with a modicum of authority that surprised Stiig. “Who are you?” She put her right hand out, spreading the fingers as if to receive something from him.
He looked down at her hand, which she snatched back, her cheeks flushing. She was educated, but she was also a scullery maid. “You’d be better off not knowing,” he repeated with more authority.
“I’m in service to the Royals. I have a right to know and if you’re threatening them it’s my duty to stop you.”
Stiig grunted; the fearful little mouse had grown teeth, inflated on its good luck so far. “Look, scullery maid, you said so yourself that things aren’t right. Then why wasn’t it your law abiding citizen’s duty to look into it?”
Her cheeks turned a remarkable shade of red and her eyes snapped down to the ground.
Chuckling again, Stiig put his hands on his hips and looked down his nose at her. “Thought so. Run on home, girl.” He watched her walk stiffly away, just to make sure she really was leaving and not going back to tell the guards. Once he was safely alone, Stiig hauled himself up into the tree; the branches groaned and creaked under his weight but held. He had to force his way through the branches where he girl had been small enough to wiggle through without leaving much of a trace; anyone with eyes would be able to tell someone had come this way. He didn’t like doing it, but once he was safely sitting on the wall Stiig used his feet and kicked the lowest hanging branch until it splintered and fell to the ground; now his trail looked like a falling branch.
Getting down was easier than getting up, so he was able to lower down onto the springy grass without much trouble. The only issue was that he had no idea where he was on the palace grounds.
