Flight From Blithmore Read Free Page A

after Ruther’s comment, the main door to the
shop opened a second time, and Master Henry’s three apprentices came in carting
heavy loads of wood to restock the supply. When they saw Henry their jaws
dropped.
    “Master Henry,” Darren, the oldest apprentice said, “What
are you still doing here?”
    Master Henry glanced at his clock. “Where else should I
be?”
    “It’s—we—we turned the clock back as a prank. We thought
Brandol saw us and would tell you. It was our way of saying good luck to you.”
    Brandol’s heart thumped in his chest. “I didn’t see
nothing! I swear it, Master Henry. I’d have told you if I had.”
    “Then what time is it really?”
    Darren swallowed loud enough that Brandol could hear it.
“Nearly noon.”
    Master Henry gasped and grabbed his hair; a cloud of wood
dust billowed from it. “Curse it!” Without another word, he ran up the shop
steps and through the side door leading into his house. “Curse it all!” he
yelled again.
    “Well,” Ruther said as he watched his friend run off, “I’d
better go see what I can do to be of help.”

 
     
     
     
     
    Two -
    Ruther & Henry
     
     
    Henry
shut the washroom door behind him and shed his work clothes so quickly that he tore
his shirt. He also began pumping water into the tub, furiously working the
lever, and causing it to squeak and squeal like a small pig. As soon as the tub
had enough water, Henry plunged himself in and scrubbed the dust and grime off
his body and out of his hair. Wasting no time, he jumped out and dried himself
as he ran back to his bedroom, stark naked.
    “Hey, friend,” a deep voice called out.
    Henry yelped and covered himself. “Good grief, Ruther!” he
exclaimed as he shut the door between them. “What are you doing here?”
    “I came to wish you good luck. Now I can see how badly
you’ll need it.”
    As soon as Henry was in his undergarments, he opened the
door for Ruther. “How was your trip?” he asked as he turned back to the clothes
his sister, Maggie, had laid on the bed for him to wear. He noticed Ruther
seemed to be gaining more weight, especially in his face. Ruther’s fat face was
almost always jovial, but, unfortunately, being fat in Blithmore had gone out
of style three years prior when King Germaine fell ill for six months and
reappeared at the baptism of his eldest granddaughter missing fifty pounds.
    “It was a very fine excursion. I was well-received in every
town.” From under his vest, Ruther withdrew a small leather flask—no doubt
containing ale—and took a long draught. “Everyone loved me.”
    “Isn’t it a little early for drinking, Ruther?” Henry asked
as he buttoned his shirt. When he reached the top button, he realized he’d done
the buttons up wrong and started over.
    “Never too early for that, friend,” Ruther chuckled.
    Henry’s fingers worked furiously at the cloth and buttons,
getting them right this time. He pulled up his pants and jammed the tails of his
shirt inside. The blue scarf was next. Henry picked it up, trying to remind
himself the proper way to tie it around his neck.
    “Isabelle has assured me several times that her father will
say yes, but I can’t help but worry. What will I do if he says no?”
    Ruther grinned and gave a hearty laugh. “Trust me, he
won’t. Not in his situation. You’re wealthier than a tenth of the country’s
nobles—”
    “That’s only because a tenth of the country’s nobles don’t
know how to use their money.”
    “He’s one of the poorest and he knows it, friend.”
    “But I’m desperate! I can’t marry her without his
permission!”
    “Yes, you are desperate, but so is he—he can’t afford to
pay a dowry to any respectable noble family. Everyone knows that’s all he cares
about—regaining his social standing—and that’s where you come in. By you asking
for Isabelle’s hand, he can demand you pay a bride price, which you have the
ability to pay. Everyone wins.”
    Henry’s concerns