She stood beside the desk, trembling and fearing a knock would come that would be enemies. However, it didn’t sound. The sun sat low in the sky and sent slanted beams of light shooting across the study. Hannah made a full turn, seeing all the valuables in the room and knew the bedroom still held more. But her father was very good at hiding things.
She walked toward the bedroom while looking at everything in the room when a small protrusion under a workbench drew her attention. It was the only bump under a table she saw, and it drew her. It had a purpose, and was built to appear part of the underside of the table, yet it looked odd and out of place. She ducked her head and looked underneath the table top and at the gouged and pitted working surface of the table. The top was a slab of wood thicker than any top of the workbenches in sight.
She tapped the underside with her knuckles. In only one area, it sounded faintly like a drum. Besides the leg, the head of a single nail drew her attention. The head was above the surface, and as she looked closer, it had a slight color of brass or bronze, instead of iron. Her finger touched and pushed it. It depressed and a concealed drawer opened a finger’s width.
Hannah pulled the drawer open and found coins inside, gold, silver and a few coppers, along with more keys to unknown locks. A small parchment was rolled and tied with a red ribbon. A scabbard made of leather thinner than parchment held a long thin black blade that almost did not reflect the light. She withdrew a blade as long as her hand. Along the back of the blade, a thin design of leaves went from hilt to tip. The design had been carved from the black blade and filled with gold. She had never seen black-iron or the dull reflection of the light from it.
Instead of a belt to hold the scabbard, there were two belts, thin and short. She lifted the oversized maid’s skirt and placed the blade against her calf. Almost, but not quite right. The bulge, though slight, could be seen when she lowered the skirt. She moved the knife to the inside of her thigh and pulled the two belts snug.
The knife helped her calm down. She had left the large knife in Sir James’ room when she changed clothes to see the King. The new knife sent a surge of confidence through her. She scooped up the coins without looking at them and noticed only a few were silver, the rest gold; many small ones, others larger, and two as large as full copper slags. If the little scroll was important enough to hide, she should take it, also.
The bedroom still called her name. She stood in the doorway, letting her eyes and mind do her work. Her father had carved a groove for the key to the chest, and a hidden button opened a drawer. She felt she was beginning to have an understanding of how his mind worked. He hid things where you looked last.
Yes, he was a mage. A magician. But he relied on the purely physical, too. A sorceress would have put a no-see spell on the important items, but he was a mage and didn’t trust a sorceress to do his work. The bed was the obvious place; and of course, the first any sneak thief would search. Therefore, it held nothing of value. She had already searched the two trunks, inside and out, although she wished for the time to examine the one with his personal effects closer.
That left the room itself. He was old and wouldn’t like bending over. She went to the nearest corner and moved her hands along the stone wall, from waist high to her head. They followed a pattern, touching every stone and pushing. The first wall held nothing, but the next ran along one side of the bed with only enough room to move beside it.
Her instincts said it would be on that wall. She slowed her search and moved more carefully. When she touched a single stone, it moved the smallest amount. She touched it again, and it did not. She pushed harder. Nothing. She looked at it closely and saw nothing unusual, but she had felt the click. She knew it.
Leaning closer to peer at the cracks, her hand touched the next stone, and it clicked, a minute sound that was more felt than heard. She touched it again and nothing. She touched each of the surrounding stones and felt nothing. But there had been two clicks.
She touched the first stone and again felt the click. Then the second and it clicked. Back and forth. One then the other. Why?
She had it. One opened and the other closed. But what? It was not magic. It was a switch, but what did it operate? Her eyes went up to the ceiling. The Mage wouldn’t climb there. She looked down. She stood on a small rug over the floor made of large paving stones. She kicked the rug aside. The stone she stood on looked just like all the others, but it was the only place to stand. Or was it?
Hannah took a step backward and bent to push the first stone on the wall. It clicked, and the paving stone on the floor rose up, via a mechanical connection. It cleared the floor enough to allow her to see a compartment underneath. She went to her knees and slipped her fingers under the paving stone and lifted. It raised higher on metal tracks. Below were only three items.
She removed a round glass bead, a thin leather-bound book so old the pages tried to fall out, and the tooth of an animal with teeth the size of her small finger. Nothing else. Her fingers felt around the space, and it was empty.
She pushed the flagstone down until it seated. Then she touched the second stone on the wall and felt the click as it locked closed. She placed the rug back in place and considered the three items she had placed on the bed. All three were unimpressive but for the fact that her father had placed them in the most secure location in his room.
If they had value to him, the held value to her. She found a small leather bag meant for hiding loot around a man’s waist under his clothing. It gave her two ideas. She placed the contents of the secret drawer and those from under the flagstone into it, but looked down at herself and knew more had to change.
The chest of drawers held the Old Mage’s clothing. All of it intended for a small man. She found a pair of trousers and used the knife she wore to cut the legs shorter. She located a thin rope and cut enough to tie around to hold the trousers up. She found two small shirts that almost fit.
They’re still going to be on the roads looking for a blonde girl. She closed her eyes and made a choice. The knife was still in her hand. She sliced off a handful of straw-colored hair and was reaching for another handful when the door opened, and William slipped inside.
He was breathing hard, his color was pale, and he kept an ear to the door before speaking softly. “I saw the King.”
“Will he do it?”
“You must have impressed him when you met. Yes, these rooms will be sealed and guarded beginning in the morning. Nobody will be allowed inside without his permission. He was so upset; he said that it if takes you fifty years to return, the rooms will still be as they are today.”
“I will return and study here; you know that? There is much to learn here.”
“I believe you. And I will be here as your personal servant. Your King agreed to that, also.”
“I didn’t ask for you to do that.”
“It will be my pleasure.”
Hannah debated what the right response to his generosity would be. She wanted to hug and kiss him, but held back, thinking he might be offended.
William said, “He also formally recognized your place in the Royal line. Not only did the King recognized your rank, but published the finding with his seal. This was a most unusual step, one that makes your rank official and cannot be changed. The royal scroll of succession holds all the names of the first fifty in order, as well as hundreds of lesser Royals. It constantly changes as people die or are born. You are number four in line, so it is now public, and nobody can change it.”