The Kingdom - Clare B Dunkle - Hollow Kingdom 01 - The Hollow Kingdom

“You poor, poor girl!” exclaimed the woman in a loud, penetrating voice. “What on earth happened to you?”

Kate blushed more deeply as she considered her answer. Having lived so long with the goblins, she hated to lie. “I had an accident while traveling,” she said at last. “I almost drowned. I don’t have any other clothes to change into.”

“Oh, my poor dear,” boomed the woman. Kate suspected that the horses could hear her. “You’ll catch your death of pneumonia! How far are you traveling, you poor thing?”

“I’m going to Liverpool,” replied Kate, glad of a simple answer.

“That’s wonderful!” declared the woman. “We are, too! What’s your name?”

“My—my name?” stammered Kate. “I’m Kate, I mean Catherine Wins—or Miss Wins—well, Mrs. Marak, I suppose. But please,” she added, mortified, “you may call me Kate.”

“My dear, you’re not well!” exclaimed the woman. “The shock! We must put you up at an inn the next time we change horses.”

“No,” said Kate hurriedly. “My husband is ill, and I have to get to Liverpool right away.”

“Hurrying to his bedside, no doubt,” stated the woman. “Married so young! Whatever were you thinking! Do tell me all about him.”

Kate stared at her in horror. Tell her all about a goblin? “I—well—um,” she stammered hopelessly. The woman watched her, fascinated.

“Tell me how you met,” she insisted stridently. Kate took a breath and thought this over.

“My sister and I were lost in a storm,” she said, “and he led us back to our house.”

“How romantic!” cried the woman. “And you lost your heart to him right away!”

“Not right away,” averred Kate, remembering his sarcastic comments as she slogged home in the dark beside his horse.

“Oh, come! He swept you off your feet, I suppose!” exclaimed the woman.

“Well, he tried,” admitted Kate with a helpless giggle.

“Young and handsome, no doubt!” Kate thought about this.

“He’s not young,” she said, “but he doesn’t look that old.” Handsome? Marak? Best not to say anything.

“And where do you live?” demanded the woman. Kate’s head was beginning to throb.

“Where do we live?” she gasped. Under Hill, under lake, locked behind magical doors. “Not—not far from where the horses stopped.” Too late, Kate realized that the woman couldn’t possibly believe her. If she lived so close, she could have gone home to change clothes.

“You poor, poor thing,” the woman commented emphatically.

Wonderful, thought Kate. Now she thinks I’m crazy.

When she staggered out of the carriage that evening, Kate felt sure she knew every moment of the woman’s life from birth. She had an intimate acquaintance with the furnishings in her home, the local shopkeepers’ best bargains, and the grandchildren’s childhood diseases. Kate’s head pounded, and she longed to be home among the goblins. They would never have dared to pummel the King’s Wife with so much boring talk.

“Charm!” she called, standing in a corner of the inn yard. The snake uncoiled from her arm with a little zing.

“Thirty-six of the King’s Wives have been fat,” it commented quietly. “Twenty-four have been loud. Eight have been fat and loud,” it added in a soft whisper.

“I couldn’t be more sorry,” said Kate with a shudder. “Charm, should I stay here tonight and travel tomorrow? It will take three days to reach Liverpool if I stop at night.”

“You should not be outside the kingdom,” whispered the snake. After her awful day, Kate heartily agreed. “Travel at night. Then you will be home sooner.”

“That’s a good idea,” murmured Kate. “Charm, has this ever happened before?”

“Yes,” hissed the snake softly. “Two other King’s Wives have been outside without the King’s permission. One no longer had a King. He was dead, and she was awaiting the birth of the Heir. The other was in danger when the Kingdom Spells gave way and her King was far from home. And one King’s Wife traveled by closed wagon with a loud, fat woman during the migration. But it is true,” it whispered, “that you are the first King’s Wife to travel by closed wagon with a loud, fat woman and without the King’s permission.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” said Kate impatiently. “I mean, has the King ever been held prisoner under an enchantment before?”

The snake had no shoulders, but it managed to convey a shrug. “Why would I remember that?” it buzzed. “Do I guard Kings? I do not worry about the minor details of Kings’ lives. I only remember what is important.”

Supplied with an explanation and several gold pieces, the innkeeper found Kate a coachman who would drive her straight through to Liverpool, hiring horses for her along the way. As the innkeeper’s wife packed her a supper to eat in the carriage, the coachman introduced himself. Bingham was tall and handsome, with brown hair and large brown eyes.

“No bags?” he asked in astonishment, and she repeated her explanation about the near drowning. “Then I’ll ask the innkeeper to give you a blanket or two. You’ll be cold in the carriage, miss. And since we’re driving straight through, you’ll need a pillow. Don’t worry, miss, I’ll take care of everything.”

“How thoughtful!” exclaimed Kate, looking admiringly into those dark eyes. There was nothing like the human race after all. “But what about you? You’ll be so tired. They tell me the trip will take until late tomorrow night.”

“Oh, never mind me, miss,” said Bingham. “I do this all the time. Besides,” he added, gazing at her warmly, “I think it will be a rewarding experience.”

Bingham was as good as his word. Armed with more gold pieces, he made sure she lacked for nothing on the way. The views became steadily uglier as they approached their destination, and the winter twilight fell long before they reached Liverpool. Kate had not enjoyed the port city when she had seen it with her father. This time she found herself even more disheartened at the close streets, the choking smoke hanging in the air, and the pressing crowds of ragged people. Hordes of beggar children chased the carriage until Bingham used his long whip to drive them away. Kate’s father had explained to her about the poor people who poured into the city, hoping to find work on the docks or in the huge textile mills. Nine-year-olds might work twelve hours a day at the weaving machines, losing fingers or even their lives to the machinery when their fatigue made them careless.

Tired and depressed, Kate began to long for the end of the journey. Soon they would be at the inn. The carriage stopped, and Kate peered out the little window in the door. They were in a dark, narrow alley lined by ugly brick buildings with unusually large doors. They looked like the warehouses that she and her father had driven through near the harbor docks. Trash glistened in the puddles on the rough cobbled street. Bingham, his handsome face tired and grave, opened the door and helped her out.

“Where’s the inn? I don’t see a single soul,” Kate remarked. Bingham didn’t respond. As she turned around, she saw him step toward her, a long knife shining in his hand. The horrified Kate felt a rustling zing, and Bingham stopped, shuddered, and fell over backward. He lay motionless, his big brown eyes still watching her as the knife slid from his grasp. The golden snake wove above his body, metallic fangs glistening.

“I have just bitten a man,” announced Charm with arrogant contentment. “There he lies, awaiting the King’s Judgment.” Kate stared at the treacherous young man in astonishment. She had never thought villains could be quite so handsome and considerate. But she remembered the look in his eyes when he saw the gold pieces and her many costly rings and bracelets. She didn’t need to ask why he had done it.