Page 16 of Charmless
“No, I certainly did not. If I could just see the commander?—”
“There is no use importuning me any further. You cannot see the commander for the simple reason he is not here.” Mercato puffed out his chest. “I have sent him off on a mission, a very important and dangerous one.”
“Dangerous?” I faltered.
But Mercato was already striding away, rapping out a command to the major.
“Freckles, I want no more such disturbances. Lower the portcullis and lock this place down completely.”
“Aye, sir.” The major snapped off a half-hearted salute, muttering under his breath. “But the name is Frackles.”
Momentarily stunned by what Mercato had said, I stood frozen. But as the wizard vanished inside the tower door that led up to the Aura Chamber, I started after him, only to be intercepted by Major Frackles.
The contempt I had glimpsed earlier in his eyes was gone. His voice was kind, but firm as he said, “Please, Miss Upton. You must go.”
“But is it true what Mercato said? Is the commander in danger?”
“I am sure not, miss. You must not worry. The commander is well able to look after himself. ”
“But what is going on here? Why is Quad Hall being locked and guarded?”
“I'm sorry. I cannot tell you. Your best course is to return home, and I will let the commander know you were looking for him. Now please, step back.”
Frackles called up to a Scutcheon private on the wall above, ordering him to lower the portcullis. I had never even realized that Quad Hall had such a thing, despite the building being fashioned like a miniature castle.
As far back as I could remember, the gate had never been lowered. The device was so ancient, it creaked and groaned. It appeared as if it might get stuck half-way, but with a mighty shudder, the rusty portcullis clanked to the ground.
Major Frackles gave me a sympathetic smile before disappearing inside the towers. I pressed my face against the iron bars of the gate and watched him go, my mind reeling with questions and new worries.
The Major’s kind words had done little to reassure me about Horatio’s safety. Where had Horatio been sent and what kind of mission had he been given? Did it have anything to do with the reason Quad Hall was locked down? And why had Mercato denied all knowledge of his promise to Horatio that he would release the Hansons and the other Midtown citizens?
If it had been any other man besides Horatio, I might have suspected he had been boasting when he claimed to have influence with the king’s chief wizard. I knew my honest commander better than that. Horatio, unlike Mercato, was not the sort of man to try to puff up his own importance.
It was obvious I would learn nothing more, lingering by the gate and fretting. My best course was to head to Misty Bottoms and seek out Mal. I needed to warn him there was a mob of angry women out for his blood. Mal also might have some insight into this strange business at Quad Hall. My friend had an uncanny way of knowing when anything untoward or mysterious occurred in our kingdom.
As I turned away from the gate, I was surprised to see Ardelia Vanderwix and her friends lingering in the square. I would have thought they would have run shrieking all the way back to the Heights by now.
They were talking among themselves and stealing glances toward the lowered portcullis. I became uncomfortably aware that it was me and not Quad Hall that had become the focus of their interest. Snippets of their conversation carried to my ears.
“Is that really her? The girl the prince wants to marry?”
“Impossible!”
“You heard what the wizard said. And Mama heard a rumor this morning that the prince had lost his head over some mysterious Midtown beauty.”
“But she looks like a beggar woman!”
I didn’t wait to overhear anymore, heading determinedly across the square in the opposite direction. The rustle of skirts warned me the girls were coming after me.
“You, there! Wait,” Ardelia commanded.
I grimaced and thought of making a bolt for it, certain that I could easily outdistance these ladies in their dainty heels. But I was a Midtown girl and something inside me revolted at the idea of running from a pack of snobbish chits from the Heights.
I halted and came about, waiting for them with my arms locked across my chest. The girls approached me warily, except for the bubbly blonde who bounced up and down and squealed, “Yes! It must be her. I recognize her from the ball last night.”
She was cut off by Miss Vanderwix. Thrusting the little blonde aside, Ardelia studied me skeptically.
“What is your name?”
