“What do you want, boy, can’t you see I’m busy?” Phestus crowed.
Rat was actually happy to discover Phestus on duty; despite his gruff manner he never beat or mistreated him like some of the other masters.
“I have important news right from the top,” Rat divulged. “You had better wake everyone up.”
“If you think I am going to risk the ire of my peers on the word of some guttersnipe then you’d best think again.” Phestus shrugged his large shoulders, which almost entirely enveloped his neck.
“I received the information directly from the king’s advisor,” Rat bragged.
“Which one?” The master armorer showed a slight curiosity.
“Orion.”
“Bah, it sounds barely worthy of my time.”
Phestus was not a smart man though a practical one; he understood the ramifications of failing to act on directions from above, although he was certainly experienced enough to know that not all messages were of value. With a look of disdain, he reached a dirty hand into his pocket where he rooted around before pulling out a small bronze coin. Rat looked at the money with undisguised greed, knowing that coin could buy him food for the next two days.
“I swear, boy, if you be trying to trick me, I will make you walk on hot coals.” Phestus dropped the coin into Rat’s outthrust hand.
“Queen Etherelle is throwing a surprise birthday party for Princess Damselfly, and she has demanded that it be the grandest celebration anyone can remember.”
Rat enjoyed the astonished look on Phestus’s face as he received the royal message. Grasping his reward, he took off as the master armorer charged about waking every soul to begin their arduous mission.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
As Rat was departing, his wrist was grabbed by a strong hand belonging to none other than Master Farcroft, the blacksmith.
“I just delivered a message to Phestus, and now I am going to deliver it elsewhere,” Rat explained.
“What is that in his hand?” Tarq the master builder asked, smoothing out his apron.
Before Rat could answer, the bronze coin was ripped from his hand by Mayden the master brewer.
“What poor wretch did you steal this from?” she slurred, being known to sample her own produce more than one should.
“Phestus gave it to me for the information I brought. I did not steal it,” Rat argued.
“Ah, a liar and a thief.” Farcroft shook the boy painfully.
Rat felt tears come to his eyes, staring at the masters who all looked at him suspiciously when everything he said had been true.
“You better not be sneaking into my stores again,” Mayden accused, although Rat knew that it was she, who drunk the stores and never remembered it afterwards.
“I think we should find some respectable work for the boy, rather than have him running around looking like a stray dog,” Tarq the master builder suggested.
“He can scrub some pans for me,” Mayden announced. “That will teach him for stealing my precious ale.”
“I didn’t steal anything,” Rat complained, trying unsuccessfully to break free from Farcroft’s grip.
The blacksmith had spent decades working in his forge, meaning he had arms of steel leaving Rat helpless to escape.
“What is this news you bring, boy,” Master Lokei the shipwright asked evenly.
The role of master shipwright was an infamous one with Bakka himself once holding that position. Now few ships were made in Thronegarden, though the office still held authority. Lokei was an unusual fellow with a watchful eye and sharp mind that often made his peers uncomfortable.
“Queen Etherelle has ordered there be a birthday party for her daughter, the Princess Damselfly and she wants it to be the best celebration ever,” Rat revealed.
This information had a peculiar effect on his audience with Lokei simply lifting one eyebrow in surprise while the other masters scattered in a frantic panic.
“What about my coin?” Rat shrieked.
Farcroft who had forgotten about the money and was already racing off to his own forge threw the coin into a dark corner where Rat spent several minutes before finally retrieving his prize. As the furnace roared into life, Rat disappeared before he found himself in any further trouble.
The only place in the castle Rat had not entered were the royal apartments; however, he had only entered the Hall of Bells once and that had been under Master Pariah’s supervision. Rat spent several minutes banging on the master of bells’ door before giving up and heading off towards the next level. Rat was glad to move on as his memory of being inside that room still filled him with dread. The magic of bells was an ancient art of magic which even Master Pariah admitted he understood only a small fraction of what the bells could do. The most famous bell, Sereth ‘the voice of death’, had been part of Death’s timepiece since records began, although it was agreed that the watch was made by Bakka, the greatest smith who ever lived, it was equally accepted that the bell was not. After the Fairy King stole the timepiece, he silenced Sereth and after breaking it, all time had stopped.
The sun remained setting so that the residents of Thronegarden could barely remember what the moon and stars looked like. Rat had forgotten what rain smelled like and the grounds were barren.
The people slept in shifts
