Oh, no you don’t, I thought as I twisted to my right and swung the bucket that was in my left hand towards what I hoped was the head of whoever had just grabbed me. I had little or no night vision at this point. I had been looking at the light of the lantern as I had reached for it, so when I came twirling towards my attacker, I could make out only a dark shape. Just as my bucket was about to connect with my assailant, he or she toppled over backwards, letting go of my arm in the process. I staggered forward, trying not to step on the now prone moaning figure before me. Carz then settled himself next to the body lying on the ground, put his paw on his or her chest, and leaned his head toward his or her neck. He had apparently knocked down my assailant from behind before my bucket could connect with any body part. I had been hoping for the head.
“No, Carz, stand down, do not attack,” I called frantically.
To my great surprise and horror, Carz’ head continued its downward motion, and I had visions of having to flee the fair because my hunting cat had just killed someone. As those thoughts were running through my head, I saw Carz’ mouth open slightly, and he began licking the prone figure’s face.
“Oh, ugh, stop that. Yew, cat slobber,” moaned a voice.
“Beezle?”
“Call your hunting cat off, will you? Move it, rodent breath. Yetch!” Beezle replied.
“You may need to thank that hunting cat for saving your sorry hide, you loggerheaded toad-spotted gudgeon. Why would you sneak up on me and grab my arm like that, you lumpish, hasty-witted, hedge pig?”
“Whoa, no need to be insulting. I really did not mean to startle you, and would you please stop calling me names, call off the hunting cat, and help me up?” Beezle asked somewhat plaintively.
“I should just leave you on the ground and have Carz continue cleaning your face, you, you . . .”
What other inventive names I had planned to call Beezle were abruptly silenced, for I was startled speechless when the glass in the lantern shattered, and the light was snuffed out. I dropped to the ground covering my head, which was a natural instinct, wondering what had just happened. Just then, I heard and felt something whiz by over my head and smack against the large tree beyond me. The horses started becoming very restless and jittery, as another something thunked into the ground near me, and a third one caused a rather large splash in the stream beyond the tree. We needed to get someplace out of the line of fire, and someplace where we were not under hoof.
“Can you get up?” I called softly to Beezle.
“I think, under the circumstances, I am going to stay down,” he replied.
“We need to move. Let’s get to the large tree closer to the stream. If I remember, it’s climbable,” I suggested.
As we scrambled toward the tree, several more projectiles flew by, one catching me on the right shoulder, almost knocking me to the ground. Carz had had the good sense to climb the tree before we got there and was followed swiftly by Beezle and me. At this point, while we were out of immediate danger, we had also literally treed ourselves, which might not be so good in the long run. There now was no place to go but up. Being up the tree turned out to be a good thing, however, because just as we each got ourselves settled on a sturdy branch behind the trunk, one of the horses let out a squeal and thundered off, causing a panic among the other horses. Soon the sounds of many hooves could be heard pounding the ground.
“I think whoever was slinging rocks at us probably is either gone or has been trampled underfoot,” Beezle whispered. “I’m not having a good night. First, you try to bean me with a bucket, then I get bowled over by a hunting cat, and now I am up a tree, hoping not to get knocked out of it by some maniac with a slingshot and really large rocks. So, who have you angered lately that they would come after you with intent to harm?”
“What makes you think those rocks were being aimed at me? I could be the innocent bystander here, you know.”
“Well, no matter who the rocks were aimed at, they would do some serious damage if they connected. It was our good fortune that one of the rocks took out the lantern.”
“One of the rocks also did a good job taking out my right shoulder,” I quietly muttered.
“Were you hit? Are you alright?” Beezle asked with a great deal of concern in his voice.
“Nothing’s broken, but I’ll have quite a bruise by tomorrow. Good thing I’m not anticipating attending a ball soon in an off the shoulder gown, for I would look a fright.”
“Nice to see being almost stampeded to death has not robbed you of your sense of humor. Look, a number of lanterns are heading our way.”
I had an almost overwhelming urge to laugh, for I had a vision in my head of lanterns moving across the meadow, unassisted by folks, but I resisted the urge. Hopefully the folks carrying the lanterns had heard the commotion and had come to check on the horses. With any luck, they would either shed light literally on who had tried to harm us, or at the very least, scare the attacker away. We waited until we could recognize some of the folks who were trying to calm the horses before we descended from the tree. We joined the group nearest to us, as if we had arrived with them and their lights rather than just dropping in. Once the horses were settled back down, we walked back to the campground, finding safety in numbers.
Back at our campsite, by the dying embers of the cook fire, Beezle and I tried to muddle through what had just happened. Was someone trying to harm one of us, or had it been just a random act mischief that could have turned deadly? Of the two choices, I would have preferred a random act of mischief. I also wondered why Beezle had grabbed my arm rather than just call out my name when he approached me in the pasture. It certainly would have saved him a few bruises.
“First things first,” I said to him. “Why did you grab my arm when I was reaching for the lantern?”
“I just wanted to get your attention and was going to offer to get the lantern down for you, but before I could say anything I was tumbling over backward under your furry friend, and a bucket was swinging far too close to my head for comfort. You have very fast reflexes, and I should have called out first. I’m sorry,” stated Beezle contritely.
With a slightly rueful grin, he went on to explain he had come out to the pasture because he was worried about me being out there in the dark alone. He guessed he need not have worried about me, now that he knew about the dangerous bucket I carried. I should not have been surprised that his good humor helped some of the tension of this night’s adventure melt away.
“So, Beezle, who have you ticked off lately that they would be slinging rocks at you?”
“No one that I know of, and you?” he replied.
“None that I can think of. Do you think it was a prankster, or were we specifically targeted?” I asked back. “We should go back at first light, and maybe we can find something that will give us an idea of what just happened.”
“Good idea,” agreed Beezle.
We said our goodnights and retired for the night. At first light, I heard a light knock at my door. After quickly dressing, Carz and I joined Beezle and headed back to the pasture where the horses were grazing. With the sun just peeking over the top of the distant hills, and the campground just beginning to stir, the day presented a peaceful setting, so different from the activities of the night before. The birds were beginning their morning songs, the dew was heavy on the grass, and there was almost no breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees. If it were not for the dark purple bruise on my shoulder, I might be able to imagine that last night’s fright had not happened.
Beezle and I crossed the meadow to the tree we had been standing next to the night before and found my lantern still hanging off a branch. The glass was shattered, but otherwise the lantern was still intact. I carefully picked up the glass shards that I could find in the trampled earth. It would not do for either beast or folk to cut themselves on them. After that we looked around the tree, trying to see if we could find what had been whizzing by us in the dark. It was interesting to note that someone had been here before us, because we could see faint footprints in the dew on the grass in places where the grass was cropped short. I wondered if someone had come here before us to make sure they had left nothing behind that would give a clue to their identity.
We found nothing on the ground or embedded in the tree trunk and were about to give up when I remembered the splash I had heard after one of the stones had rushed past my head way too close for comfort. I began to walk along the bank of the stream, thinking that this was a pretty hopeless endeavor since the bottom of the stream was lined with a scattering of rocks. I wondered how I was going to distinguish a stream rock from a rock that had been airborne the night before when I spotted something. Embedded in the sand near the opposite shore, barely visible, was something that caught the light and looked just a little too smooth to be a natural object. Mindful of my new boots, I took them off and rolled up my pant legs before entering the water. While my feet did not instantly turn purple from the cold of this spring fed stream, I was glad it was neither very wide nor very deep.
I plunged my hand into the water, pulled out the shiny round object, and returned to the bank. Beezle reached out to take the object, but I shook my head and indicated we should wait until we got back to my homewagon before we looked at it. Others had begun to arrive in the meadow to look after their stock, and I did not want to draw any more attention to us than my walk in the stream might already have done. Before we headed back, we quickly looked over our horses to make sure they had not been injured. Once back, we sat on the back steps of my homewagon, and I pulled out the object I had found in the stream. It was roundish in shape, made of lead, and about the size of a walnut.
“I have heard about the making of these, but I have never seen one,” Beezle told me. “Someone was shooting slingballs at us last night. These lead balls are made only at the tower forge in the capitol for the royal guards and peacekeepers. Not a comforting thought. I suppose someone other than a member of the royal guards or peacekeepers could get their hands on slingballs, but it is even more worrisome if our attacker is affiliated with either of those two groups. Both are under the direction of the Crown, meaning at the moment, under the control of the Regent.”
“I think they were after you,” I told Beezle, “maybe because if something happened to you, it would distract your uncle, making him less effective in his endeavors to keep the Regent accountable. Your uncle is too well-liked and supported by a great number of the nobles for the Regent to attack directly.”
That idea was a mixed blessing for would mean they were not after me, but I did not like the thought that someone wanted to harm Beezle.
“I don’t like your conjecture, but unfortunately it makes some sense. I’ve been able to come up with nothing else to explain what happened last night. At first, I thought maybe someone was slinging rocks at you, thinking you were harming me, but that didn’t make a whole lot of sense because what we thought of as rocks came much too close to hitting me too,” said Beezle.
“Or they could have been aiming at you because they thought you were going to harm me, but that makes about as much sense as your idea. What I do know is we had best be watchful and only travel in pairs or more, and only during the daylight hours. I think I will be glad to leave Snoddleton. By the way, was there any other reason you came out to the pasture last night, besides wanting to protect me from night creatures and other things that roam after dark, for which I thank you?”
“Yes, I heard that they are going to close the fair a half day early. There are a great many rumors going around as to why.”
“Such as?”
“The most prominent one is that there will be a lengthy check out making sure none of us are carrying contraband or have somehow or other violated the Regent’s edicts. Some think they are still trying to find that Pedersen fellow and others who have recently been named as ‘folks of great interest’ to the Regent. Of course, they never do come right out and tell you what any of these folks have done to garner so much interest.”
At the mention of Da’s name, my heart began to race. I had a very strong urge to leap up, dash to the Hall of Masters, and find him. Before I could make a total fool of myself by jumping up, leaping over the fire, and dashing into town, Master Clarisse sat down beside me.
“Heard about your adventure last night,” she said, directing her comments to both of us. “Are both of you alright?”
“Other than wounded pride and dignity, I’m fine,” Beezle responded, “but I do suggest you stay away from Nissa when she has a bucket in hand.”
After I gave him a look that suggested dire things would be done to him, much worse than being beaned by a bucket, I told Master Clarisse I was fine also.
“I heard you talking about the rumor that the fair will close early because they want all the wagons leaving town to undergo an inspection. There is a great deal of protest going on from Lord and Lady Snoddleton and their citizens. Folks seem to scream the loudest when a loss of revenue is involved,” Master Clarisse suggested. “The general population cares little if the Regent is seeking certain folks, since they do not appear to be dangerous individuals, nor does it seem that they have committed any horrendous or despicable crimes. Most of us don’t see why we should lose a half day’s revenue, and then in addition have our wagons searched when we try to leave town. Once again the Regent has chosen a way of getting the common folk a little riled up over some ruling. There is a group of merchants, townsfolk, guild masters, and nobles gathering right now to decide what to do and to confront the Regent’s representatives.”
“Has anyone thought of appealing to the Princess?” questioned Beezle, looking to Master Clarisse for an answer.
“That is the other odd thing going on, for it seems that the Princess has cancelled her appearance at the fair this day, and no one is sure if she is in town or not.”