Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 53

An official inquiry
“Would you repeat that, please? Perhaps I heard you incorrectly,” The nobleman seemed faintly amused by Trace’s impertinence, and the farmer colored under the mockery.

“I would like to see the king, I have some information for him that I believe he would want.” Trace swallowed.

“You understand that wandering around the palace in the middle of the night has not painted you in the most trustworthy light.” The lord stared at the accused.

“It wasn’t the middle of the night, it was nearly dawn,” Trace corrected, causing a few raised eyebrows.

“Was it?” The lord looked at the guard, called Ulrich, who colored.

“Yes, it was around then.” Ulrich’s lips tightened.

“Does that change the matter, in your opinion?” The nobleman’s monotone gave nothing about his own thoughts away.

“Well, er, I… he still could have been a thief, or a spy,” The guard stuttered.

“Has anything been reported missing?”

“No, Your Lordship,” Ulrich replied flatly.

“Have any plots been uncovered?”

“None.” The guard was becoming agitated now.

“What charges have you against him, then?”

“A servant neglecting his post and trespassing in the palace.” The guard sneered.

“At dawn, when servants are eating breakfast in the palace kitchens before attending to their duties?” The lord looked at Ulrich with an emotion that seemed akin to exhaustion.

“…Yes, Your Lordship,” Ulrich finally agreed, looking furious to be talked down to.

“And instead of telling his supervisor in the stables to deal with the matter of punishing a wayward servant, you interrupted my day to bring a full inquiry despite an investigation that apparently turned up no evidence of further wrongdoing than the sleepwalking you say he complained of?”

“That was a lie!” Sergeant Ulrich declared.

“Oh? You know for a fact that he wasn’t sleepwalking?” The lord seemed only mildly interested in the answer to the question.

“Well, he somehow got past the guards, Lord Oakdown,” Ulrich offered lamely.

“No one, sleepwalking or awake, should be able to sneak past your guards,” Oakdown sat up straighter in his chair. “Is the palace’s security lacking?”

“No! No, Your Lordship!” The sergeant grimaced. “If I may, I have duties to attend to, may I be dismissed? You have my full report.”

The lord simply nodded once, and Ulrich turned to hurry from the room with a glare for Trace.

“You may go, as well.” Lord Oakdown turned back to his desk of papers. “I advise you to not find yourself in trouble again.”

“Your Lordship, I still need to speak with the king,” Trace reminded him.

The lord sighed deeply. During all this, his hands had remained folded across his stomach.

“Your accuser is gone. You’re free to go. Now go,” He shook his head.

“I have potentially vital information!” Trace protested.

“Oh? Then tell me. If it has merit, I will relay it to His Majesty.” The Lord looked ready to fall asleep as he gazed at the other man from underneath heavy eyelids.

“I cannot be sure who may be trusted,” The younger man explained. “Please, just a few minutes to explain to His Majesty how there may be a plot against his daughter.”

“His daughter?” Lord Oakdown’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Please tell His Majesty I need to speak with him urgently about her safety,” Trace gulped, hoping his gamble would pay off.

“Return to work. I will take what you’ve said under advisement.” The lord cut his eyes to the guards, who stepped forward to escort Trace out.

He frowned, and sent a pleading look back at Lord Oakdown. The noble looked at him with troubled eyes.

“Please, she’s in danger,” Trace tried to drive the point home, but he was taken out of the room nonetheless.

“Stay with him until I summon him back,” Lord Oakdown’s final words were almost lost as the doors closed behind Trace.

That was promising. Or ominous. Trace wasn’t entirely sure which. Surely the lord didn’t think Trace was threatening the princess. That wouldn’t make sense at all.

But then, why have the guards stay with him? The two men followed Trace all the way back to the stables, where he spent a little time mucking out stalls. It was far less than the chore he’d had on the first day, but of course there were many horses and the task needed to be done often.

Issachar looked warily at the guards, who were silently watching Trace work.

“Do they think you’re going to steal the manure?” The boy asked earnestly.

“What? No, Why?” Trace almost laughed. He’d probably heard a more preposterous suggestion in his life, but none came to mind just now. Stealing manure?

“Father once told me that maybe royal horses made better fertilizer,” Issachar’s eyes widened.

“He was probably joking,” The man advised, “I think all horses’ manure is about the same.”

“Are you sure?” The boy put down his bucket. “They get the finest feed and water, and taken care of well. That wouldn’t make any sort of difference?”

Trace leaned on his shovel and stared at the boy, who seemed to be puzzling out the logic of it sincerely.

“I suppose what you feed them could make a difference, but I assure you, any minute difference in the quality of fertilizer made by these horses versus regular ones is not worth two palace guards watching me muck out stalls.” He tried to speak seriously to the boy, who finally nodded.

“Then why are they here?” He whispered conspiratorially, glancing at the soldiers once more. His young eyes took in their uniforms, stern expressions, and irritated eyes with something akin to awe. Trace briefly wondered if the boy would like to be a guard… if he couldn’t have his dream of marrying a princess.

“I don’t want to say in front of them,” Trace cut his gaze over to the guards. One looked bored, the other suspicious of the quiet conversation. “They’re very proud of their job and I’m not a very important person to guard. I don’t want to make them feel bad. They’re doing a wonderful job, don’t you think?”