The Secret of Castle Lies - (Illustrated Edition of World Children's Literature)

Author: K.P. Bath (USA)
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-01-01
Features: Spring has arrived in Cantland, new grass sways outside the sheep pens, and the sheep almost rush to the shears, eager to shed their heavy winter coats. The brooks sing songs of melting snow, and clouds drift across the in the high sky. Only one eagle disturbs the tranquility of this spring meadow, the brook, and the sky. It searches for prey while riding the warm breeze, and occasionally, its wings cast ominous shadows on the ground when they block the sun. Lucy Whitclift spotted the bird, but she had other troubles this morning. She pushed her glasses up and looked down from a tower in Cant Castle.
"Your lordship won’t be pleased," she sighed.
"Whitclift," Pauline said, "can’t you stop daydreaming and be useful for once?" Lucy turned around. Countess Pauline Esmeralda Simonne von Cant leaned on a crossbow, a strand of hair falling across her cheek. They had already pushed the weapon toward the courtyard and were now struggling to turn the winch, lowering the arm bit by bit while stretching their tongues.
"Miss," Lucy walked back from the parapet, "please forgive me, I don’t think this is a good idea." Lucy was Pauline’s maid, so she had to call her "Miss," though she was actually a year older than the baron’s daughter and half an inch taller. Except for half an afternoon off on Saturdays, Lucy spent most of her time serving Pauline—dressing her in the morning, serving meals, and tidying her room at night. She also had to (according to the "Recruitment and Employment Regulations for Warriors, Artisans, Farmers, and Servants") "fulfill the whims and demands of the nobility, except those that may lead to treason and other serious crimes." Unfortunately, Pauline had many peculiar whims.
"Trigger! Faster! My arm’s about to break!" Lucy knelt beside the creaking war machine and hooked the trigger’s iron hook into the ring on the arm. Pauline released the winch, and the heavy arm caught the trigger with a terrible clang. Lucy took a few steps back as the jammed machine strained and groaned, like an old man trying to rise from a chair. Pauline wiped her hands on her snow-white apron.
"Well," she said with a satisfied smile, "what do you think now?" Lucy nervously glanced outside the wall.
"Perhaps we can wait until later," she suggested.
"But then no one would see," Pauline said. "Come help me load it."
Ammonia was steaming from a basket at their feet. Mr. Fuller and his assistants were having morning tea when the two girls slipped into the baron’s laundry room and collected a pile of wet undergarments—ruffled long trousers, embroidered with the baron’s crest, silk blouses, plain vests, and delicate brassiere with adjustable straps. They made three trips before dragging the basket up the spiral staircase to the tower.
"This is a super prank, Whitclift!" Pauline grabbed the handle on one side. "How mischievous I am! It’ll go down in history! Come on, I’ll count to three. One!" Lucy bent down.