The Slave-Spy

The Slave-Spy

“Summon Guido!”

 “Aye, aye, sir,” The page scurried like a nervous wraith down the moldering halls of the castle and soon had the young recruit returning with him.

The general didn't waste time on preliminary remarks. He never did.

“I have a mission for you. You are to dress as an ailing peasant woman and get into the Glass Castle. If you play your role correctly they will let you eat at their tables and you will learn the secret of their strength. I must know their strong point! Every time one or the other of them is weakening they flee for some kind of help and come back more vigorous than ever! This must stop!”

Guido carefully steeled his features to conceal his ire but inwardly cursed his numerous fore-bearers who were delicate of face and form. When will they give me a man’s job?

“When do I begin, sir?”

“Tonight: you are to arrive just as the sky is too dark to see clearly. A storm is scheduled which would be to your convenience. They are known for their compassion to the poor and will not leave you out in the thunder and rain.”

“But I know not the password.”

For the first time, the chief seemed to lose some of his blusters.

“Simmons was concealed nearby when one of their own was admitted. He did not hear it clearly but it was either ‘fire bright or firelight’. Whatever you do say it quietly but confidently! If possible wait for a crash of thunder before speaking, and conceal your face in your mantle as if you are wet and chilled from the cold.”

He laughed sardonically, “Which you will be, of course!”

Guido threw back his shoulders and pretended to be afraid of nothing.  He knew the consequences of failure on his mission. If he came back unsuccessful, the punishment would be brutal, and if he was caught by the enemy, well, he had no idea what they would do to him. Probably throw him into a dungeon even more dreadful than the Harding’s Jail.

“Oh, and one more thing!”

Guido bowed.

“Never, under any circumstances walk erect. They might have spies even many furlongs from the castle. Hobble, moan a little, slouch, and by all means, walk slowly. My page has fetched you a walking stick.”

Guido stifled a whistle as he strode merrily over hill and dale. Who wouldn’t be glad to be out and about on such a bright summer’s day?

Even the birds sounded more light-hearted than usual.

He turned to shade his eyes from the sun and saw that the grungy old castle was no longer in sight. Whew, what a relief not to be in there anymore! He hated living there but had no choice. Orphans didn’t have many options. 

Well, it’s time to get on my fancy garb. He walked slower now, more cautiously as he searched for any suspicious movement or sound. Everything seemed normal and just ahead and off to the right was the secret cave that he would soon be diving into.

After one more guarded look around, he ducked into the cavern, shrugged off his knapsack, and reappeared looking like a sad peasant woman with his face mostly concealed beneath a dark, ragged shawl.

Just a little further on was a quiet pool. Without throwing carefulness to the wind, he plodded slowly, feebly over to it, and examined his new reflection.

It was hard for Guido not to laugh out loud when he saw the transformation.

Oh that poor, pathetically dressed ’widow’! Surely the hardest heart would be melted at the sight of her! He bent down to fill his leather water bag then looked at the sky.

Those clouds that Lord Harding had hinted at were scurrying closer. Better be hastening along. Then he remembered; I can’t be rushing; not on this trip.

He quickly discovered that plodding slowly and ‘painfully’ was actually more tiring then striding briskly with a song on his lips.

Mostly he had the trail to himself. Once some rowdy boys taunted him and threw sticks and stones and he clutched his arm moaning pitifully.

Finally, they got weary of their ’game’ and ran away, but by then Guido noticed that the clouds were gathering thick and fast and he had far to go.

 He was getting rather hungry by then, so got out a chunk of rye bread and cheese that was tucked into the band around his slim waist, he munched while walking.

He kept a leery eye on the gathering clouds and started to hurry although he had been cautioned not to. Surely everyone will be out of the weather by now.

There was no escaping the drenching, and Guido was thoroughly soaked by the time the Glass Castle came into view. Even though by nature he was a bold and carefree lad, the thunder seemed frighteningly loud and it was nigh on impossible to hobble under the circumstances.

            He marveled at how warmly the beautiful castle was lighted and almost wished he didn’t have to enter in such a deceitful manner.

             Enter in? H’mm, how am I ever to do that? As he drew closer his halting footsteps slowed even more, and he ‘developed’ a serious limp. It was obvious that the muddy cliff banks were rain-slicked. Even as a lithe, athletic soldier he would have much difficulty scaling that steep an incline, but as an ailing peasant widow...

Guido leaned heavily on his staff then eventually thought of covering his face with the shawl and pretending to sob.

It worked! Soon the lookout who was pacing around the balustrade above him called out: “Do you need help?”

Guido nodded mutely and a conveyance was lowered by means of ropes and pulleys.

Guido couldn't believe it would be so easy. He slowly, painfully crept into the lift and within minutes was at the Castles immense doors.

 Two powerfully built sentinels towered like pillars on either side of the portal: “The password, please."

Guido’s throat felt dry. Thunder had repeatedly crashed in the last half hour, but now all was silent. He waited for the length of a heartbeat, two heartbeats, three, but it didn’t sound again.

“The password, please,” The body guard’s voice was kind but firm.

 Firelight, fire bright; which one was the most likely?

 “Fire bright,” he murmured wishing with all his might the thunder would crash. Then it did, resoundingly so, but so did the voice of the guard. His hand tightened over Guido's shoulder; “The password, please.”

 “Firelight,” His voice quavered…like a girl’s! For an instant, he was relieved. But…

“That is not what you said last time!”  One of the guards’ whipped off Guido’s veil even though he frantically clung to it.

 “A lad”, he announced: “Probably from the castle of our enemies.”

 Belatedly Guido realized a days’ growth of peach fuzz would be on his cheeks, and that was what the guards were peering at. Why didn’t his master think of that?

 “Guards seize him!”

 Guido was hustled down a long corridor to the prison room of Guilt where he found two other unhappy inmates. The guards commanded, not unkindly, for him to remove his ‘costume’ which he did with trepidation. His own worn, drab outfit was revealed, and he thought one of the guards’ looked at him pityingly then fetched him some comfortable, dry garments.

As the door clanged shut behind them, Guido sank into despair. I should never have listened to my master. I should have run away and hidden. I’ll probably be in here forever.

They have been fighting against us so constantly for the last millennia they are probably only too glad to take me as a prisoner --and forget me.

Eventually, the other prisoners also added their cries and lamentations and Guido covered his ears to be spared from their misery on top of his own.

“To Guido’s surprise, bowls of thick, nourishing soup were handed through the grate in the door.

What kind of prison was this anyway? Usually the prisoners in their own castle with given little more than the scraps off the table. But then he was suspicious. Maybe they want me to die a slow agonizing death through poisoning!

Finally one of the others looked at him. “Eat it,” he said. “It may be plain, but it’s good.”

            “Why aren’t you eating, then?”

The old man sighed and leaned against the wall.

“I have failed so miserably. I am not worthy of the least of His favors.”

 “His? Who?”

 “The King,” he groaned and buried his head in his hands. His long, unkempt beard touched his chest.

“Aye,” his companion agreed.

 “His mercy was from everlasting to everlasting. We enjoyed all the benefits of living in the castle but turned away to live a life of sin.”

                        “And you were thrown in here?”

 They both shook their heads.

            “We allowed them to bring us here.”

            Guido looked incredulous. How could they be so stupid?

 “So how can you get out?”

 The younger man stilled his restless pacing and a strange light gleamed in his eyes. “I haven’t asked myself that in a long time,” he murmured.

As usual, while the weeks slowly passed, the men listened patiently when footfalls sounded in the long, barren corridors. After all, there was always the meager hope of someone coming to their own barred door. Life was so uneventful that any distraction was welcome.

   Yes, someone was coming, and Guido was amazed when their door was unbolted and the guard beckoned for Guido to follow him.

 Guido’s face was a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as he entered the dusky light of the halls.

  “Where will you bring me? What have I done wrong?”

 At first Guido was afraid that the sentry was pretending not to know his language, but at last, he responded. Was that a wry grin he was trying to suppress? Surely not!

 “You will be on parole, now, and your job is to be a slave in the castle.”

 “Me? Allowed to move freely about the castle? But I was imprisoned for being a spy.”

            Guido wished he could die. What insanity caused me to remind him what I was incarcerated for?

Now Guido was sure the hunk of a sentry was suppressing a grin. He didn’t know what to think of him.

 “Ach, no: I said nothing about moving freely. You will have a companion constantly watching you. He is a member of the Conscience clan and will never leave you out of his sight.”

             Guido’s light colored eyebrows rose: “Why me and not those other men I was imprisoned with?”

            The guard shook his head sadly. “They had their chance. Both of their bodyguards are recovering from an ailment called Laryngitis. They had talked themselves hoarse trying to caution those men, and now their voices are too faint to be heard.

           Guido’s bit his lip. I certainly don’t want to be guilty of not listening. Even the prison is so much pleasanter than our castle. Why do they treat me reasonably anyway? Me! A spy!

           Guido soon found himself assigned to doing menial tasks but stopped muttering under his breath when Todd Conscience reminded him how much better he had it than formerly.

           The days were long, the work tiring, and he sort of missed swapping stories with his cell mates, but at least he was out.  Hopefully, someday he would be allowed to work on the castle grounds. Maybe even with the horses!

And that day did come. He enjoyed it for the first few months, but then…

Guido scowled as he drew his cloak closer around him and headed into the gale. What foolishness to exercise the animals in such weather! 

Usually, he found the wind refreshing and invigorating but today it had a bite to it as it angrily ripped the last withered leaves from off the trees and flung them to the ground.  The horses danced around and tossed their heads as he galloped with them around the nearby pasture and back. Especially the stallion seemed to relish the nip in the air. Not he! Not today!

 Maybe the real reason for his foul mood was that he was jealous of those who dwelt in the Castle of their own free will.

They were appropriately clad in all sorts of weather, but he...he had to sneak around in a ragged wool garment that was--stained. Stained, and he knew not how to remove the stains!

            The residents went around in raiment of spotless white and usually seemed so happy and comfortable regardless of the weather. Oh, sure, sometimes their clothes were spotted, but the owners would disappear for a while and come back once again with their garments clean and radiant!

He flicked the whip towards Diva to get her moving faster, anxious to get back to a cozy fire and a hearty supper. 

What's that sniveling sound I hear? Sounds like a brat whimpering! Can it be? Surely not! Any infant would know better than to be out in this sort of weather. 

He shielded his face as a miniature whirlwind stirred up the dirt and leaves all around him.

 Hmm, the child is being brought up with the lift. I wonder if he knows the watchword.

Guido decided to cut short the exercising of the horses. It's too cold anyways. 

After they were returned to their stalls he hurried over to the castle gates to see how they would respond if the youngster didn’t know the password.

To his surprise, the doors were flung wide open and various ones hurried this way and that to bring the child a warm blanket, cozy slippers and a bowl of thick nourishing stew.

Guido turned to one of the guards with an indignant look on his face. "Why was he admitted so readily and I was given such a hard time?"

The guard looked at him compassionately; "Suffer the little children to come unto me, is what King Agape has commanded, for of such is the kingdom of love."

            Guido looked perplexed for a moment then he lowered his eyes and rubbed his foot against the smooth glass floor.

           

"I didn't have a childlike attitude when I came,” he admitted, “I still don't. No wonder I am still a prisoner while others have citizen-passes."

The guard laid his hand gently on Guido's shoulder, and neither of them noticed the wind whipping at their clothes.

"The King loves you," he said softly. "He yearns to adopt you as one of his sons. He’s been waiting for you to ask."

Guido felt a lump swelling in his throat. "He has noticed me? Me? When there are so many others to pay attention to?"

The guard’s eyes looked so kind. "Humble yourself as a little child, and you too can become part of the kingdom."

Guido nodded. "I want to," he whispered, and clasped the guard's hand.

Matthew 11:28

Matthew 18:2-4

This is an excerpt from my tiny book The Glass Castle. It will soon be available on Kindle or Amazon.  Try Marilyn Friesen create space ...soon!