Jo and the others approached Threshold from the east. They came down from the Wulfholdes into the valley that housed the tiny village. Peasant farmers stopped their tilling to stare at the strangers, and a blacksmith at the edge of the town set down a red-hot horseshoe long enough to study them. Jo nodded to a few people, only one of whom reluctantly nodded back. Friendly group, she thought ironically. Hope it’s only because we’re coming in from the wrong side of town. Jo recalled the maps she’d been shown, then looked eastward; they were coming in on the western branch of the Duke’s Road, which passed through harsh, bandit-ridden territory before arriving in Threshold. She was thankful they hadn’t encountered any of the wasteland’s inhabitants.
Though it had its own garrison, the village was even smaller than Bywater. Six buildings composed the center of town, and perhaps a dozen rough cottages surrounded the wooden buildings. Jo saw two taverns—the Cock’s Crow and the Maiden’s Blush—and scowled. Two drinking establishments for one tiny village meant only one thing: a town divided. They’d have to be careful. Appear to side with one faction or the other, and they’d likely get no help from either. Johauna Menhir shook her head and turned Carsig toward the rundown stable. A sign, hanging by a single rusted hook, displayed the place’s illegible title.
Jo dismounted, and the others behind her did the same. Brisbois tossed his reins to Dayin and said, “I’m getting a drink, boy. Take care of my horse.” Jo scowled as the man turned on his heel and began walking away.
“Wait, Brisbois!” Jo called out sternly. The knight did not pause, and Jo clenched her fists. She raised her voice and said, “Bondsman! Attend me!” Jo’s unblinking gaze apparently bored into the man’s back, for Brisbois hesitated, then stopped. He raised his hands to his side and cocked his head. Jo wondered if she would have to say anything more, but then the man slowly turned around. He shook his head, a sour smile on his face.
“Whatever you say, MistressBrisbois said with a sneer. He lowered his hands and walked back to the group. Dayin held out the horse’s rein, and Brisbois snatched it from the boy.
Jo’s face hardened in response both to Brisbois’s words and to his callous treatment of Dayin. She was about to rebuke the man, but the stable door behind her opened. Jo turned around to see a slight, aged man standing halfway behind the door. Only his balding head and his right arm were visible as he looked inquiringly at the people before him. His pale, colorless eyes were magnified by round lenses that balanced on his nose. Jo had seen glasses before, but never this close. She was intrigued.
Jo cleared her throat and said, “Ah, good sir—” she gestured up at the sign “—I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t make out your name.”
The man glanced up at the sign and spat tobacco juice from the corner of his mouth before replying. “Sign says ‘Gelar,’ but that was the previous owner. Name’s Hruddel. What can I do for you?” He blinked at Jo, and she was fascinated by how his thin eyelids became wide when they fluttered behind the thick lenses of his glasses.
“We’d like to lodge our horses for the night, if we may,” Jo began politely.
Hruddel looked at her yellow tunic suspiciously and then at the stained but still-recognizable blue of Sir Brisbois’s. Hruddel turned back to Jo. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with those four Penhaligon guards who were here the other day, would you?” The hostler opened the door reluctantly, and Jo smiled at him brightly as she murmured thanks.
“Why, no, good sir. We aren’t connected with the people you mentioned.” Jo looked suddenly concerned. “Did they do something wrong? Where are they now? I will be sure to report them to the castellan!” Jo looked about in pretended anger.
Hruddel shook his head and said quickly, “Oh, no, they’ve gone. Rest assured. They left day before yesterday.” Hruddel continued speaking, voicing his displeasure over the guards’ treatment of him and his stable girl, but Jo heard only “day before yesterday.” How are we going to catch them in time? she thought desperately.
The hostler turned to the others and began tending to the animals. Karleah came up to Jo while the younger woman was lost in thought and said, “You couldn’t have known the box was already gone, Jo. Besides, this is the path laid out for us by Sir Graybow.”
Jo turned her frightened eyes to the wizardess. “But I should have known! You were right when you said I have no intuition!” Johauna whispered.
“I was angry, you mean.” The old crone shook her head. “You did what you did; it cannot be undone.”
Though Karleah and Jo had been talking quietly, the hostler’s ears were sharp. He turned from the stall where he was putting Carsig and called out to Jo, “Did you say something about a box? Those guards had a box. Strange one, at that.”
Jo and Karleah exchanged glances, then Jo turned to Hruddel and smiled. She moved closer to the short man. “These guards had a box, you say?”
Hruddel looked down at the straw on the dirt floor and shifted nervously. Jo glanced at Braddoc and Brisbois, who were both standing near the man, and jerked her head. They took the hint and busied themselves by putting the rest of the animals into their stalls. Jo walked closer to Hruddel, then leaned over the stall door. She smiled softly at the man, who stared at her from behind the thick lenses of his glasses. .
“Hruddel,” Jo asked frankly, “what do you know about the box?”
Hruddel responded by taking a step closer and leaning confidentially toward Jo. “There’s something about that box that ain’t right,” he said, shaking his head worriedly. “It swallows magic, that’s what.”
“What’s that?” Karleah snapped. The old woman flicked a glance at Jo as if to apologize for the interruption. Jo shook her head faintly.
Hruddel looked at the old woman, his lips pressing into a line. “Karleah’s all right,” the squire said.
Hruddel blinked as he nodded, then said to Karleah, “You know it swallows magic then, I s’pose? When the guards held up that charm of the constable’s and it disappeared, we were all amazed.”
“Disappeared?” Karleah said sharply. Her black eyes had drawn to thin slits.
“Aye, the guards waved the amulet over the box,” Hruddel said. His eyes widened in remembered amazement. “And then the box opened up all on its own and swallowed the charm.”
“Swallowed it? The box opened? Did anything come out?” Jo asked in alarm.
“Nothing—nothing I never saw, anyway,” Hruddel answered. “The lid opened, and this purplish light shone, and then the constable’s neck chain was gone. Just like that.”
Jo was about to ask the hostler more questions, but Karleah touched the squire’s arm and said, “Thank you, Hruddel. This seems a fine stable.” The old woman pressed a golden coin into the man’s palm.
Hruddel pulled his forelock and nodded his thanks. He looked from Karleah to Jo and then asked, “Will you be staying long, miss?”
“No. We’ll be off in the morning, Hruddel,” Jo responded. “Can you recommend a place to stay?”
“There’s rooms to let over at the Maiden,” Hruddel answered. “Or old Keeper Grainger lets people stay in her barn, if you’re short on gold. She’s a might on the strange side, though.” Hruddel looked down at the coin in his hand, then he tested it between his teeth. When his teeth sunk lightly into the soft metal, he pocketed the coin inside his waistband. Hruddel nodded, well pleased.
Jo, thinking about the two taverns and the obvious feud in the town, decided on the barn. They could handle an eccentric old biddy. Jo smothered a laugh. Isn’t that what we do with Karleah? she thought. Besides, that’ll save us some of Sir Graybow’s money. Jo set her hand on Hruddel’s and asked, “Why is she called ‘Keeper’?”