by Gail Merritt
‘She’s only a child,’ I heard him say and I felt his rejection in the pit of my stomach.
‘I will grow,’ I scowled at him.
‘Perhaps you could take her riding with you,’ Silver Mantle suggested.
‘If I must,’ he took the glass that I thought was poured for me.
‘I feel a little sick,’I lied. ‘Could I go riding tomorrow instead?’ Silver Mantle gave me a quizzical glance but said nothing. Prince Ardin seemed relieved and took a deep drink. I excused myself and fled back to my room. When I looked out of my window, the Prince was striding through the garden calling a groom’s name.
‘Well, that was an auspicious beginning!’ It was Black Mantle’s voice.
‘Don’t I have any privacy?’ I snapped.
‘About as much as you give the Souran!’ He seemed to be sitting on my bed. ‘Princes are naturally arrogant. You will have to gain his confidence, win him over, rather than expect him to offer you friendship. I agree that you should go riding with him tomorrow.’ He felt my dejection. ‘Yes, go riding with him tomorrow, and…’
‘And?’
‘And ride him into the ground.’ We both laughed until our sides hurt. I think his hurt more than mine.
My plan to impress Ardin had to wait for another day. The morning was heavy with thunder and news came that the King’s nephew, Llewid, had reached the mouth of the Listi and would be in Vellin before nightfall. The whole Palace was like a disturbed nest of ants. Servants rushed everywhere, cleaning this, replacing that, then putting it back again. The King visited Silver Mantle and they talked until the afternoon had grown cold. I sensed her anxiety, and she took time during their discussion to explain why. Llewid was not only the King’s nephew but also King of Dereculd, the neighbouring kingdom. Llewid’s father and the King had quarrelled when they were young but Llewid wished to heal the old wounds.
He arrived late that night, delayed by a flooded river ford. I was in the kitchen, trying to persuade a cockroach clan to move to the gardeners’ sheds. They were willing to leave if the cook promised to serve scraps to them once in a while. The cook was so grateful to me that he insisted that I try some of his fine pudding, and I was enjoying it when a servant raced in, announcing that the King of Dereculd had arrived and must be fed. I grabbed my dish of pudding and left, intent on having a feast in my bedroom. There was laughter in the great hall, and I was too busy to listen to the conversations there to notice that someone had opened the door ahead of me. We collided and half the cook’s pudding went over him. He blinked from under a layer of suit and jam.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ I stammered, ‘I didn’t see you!’
‘I saw you, but too late.’ His eyes laughed as we tried to pick the sticky food from his fine uniform. He took my spoon, scraped jam from his tunic and tasted it. ‘Delicious!’ The jacket bore the crest of Dereculd. He followed my eyes. ‘You don’t like dragons?’
‘I do like dragons. That’s the Dereculd crest. Are you with the royal party?’
‘Of course.’ He took a spoonful from my bowl. He was about the same age as the Prince but shorter and dark of eyes and hair.
‘And who are you?’
‘Megwin. I am Silver Mantle’s assistant.’
‘Are you going to be a Mantle too?’
‘One day.’
‘Do you have magic powers?’
‘Of course!’ It was said before I thought about it. Pride! I could not take it back. He raised an eyebrow. I stumbled on. ‘I can sometimes predict weather and I’m practising to make flowers grow.’ I could not stop myself. I wanted to impress him. His thoughts were open to me. He was thinking that I was probably Silver Mantle’s pet pupil and that I would be very attractive when I got a little older. I wasn’t sure which thought pleased me the most.
‘Your Majesty!’ A small, fat man came padding towards us, his face white with shock. He pushed me aside and began mopping the young man’s clothes with his handkerchief.
‘Majesty?’ I stepped back.
‘Didn’t I tell you my name?’ He grinned. ‘Llewid, King of Dereculd. This is my Minister, Previn. Previn, this is the Lady Megwin.’ My horror was mixed with a sudden urge to laugh. I had covered the King of Dereculd with jam pudding and it amused him. I handed Llewid the bowl and fled, his voice calling my name as he continued to laugh.
6.
Llewid
I had expected some sort of reprimand from Silver Mantle but my encounter with Llewid, King of Dereculd had amused the King and apparently charmed the young king. According to Silver Mantle, I may not have impressed Prince Ardin but King Llewid was eager to meet me again, without the jam pudding. In fact, we met many times during the next few days either by appointment or lucky accident. I found him easy company. We talked about everything. He told me about his hopes for his kingdom and I told him about my life in the Talarin. He asked about Brak and he described the landscape of Dereculd to me. We even went riding together. Everything would have been perfect if it had not been Silver Mantle’s insistence that I kept my eyes on Ardin. This meant going riding with him too. He chose a small dappled pony for me while he rode a fine bay. We did not talk. At least I did not talk to the Prince, but the two horses were having a conversation when I interrupted them.
‘Please stop complaining about your food and enjoy the warm weather. I will personally make certain that you get carrots when we return!’
‘
You use the Tongue, but you are not a Mantle,’ the dapple flicked his tail.
‘I am not a Mantle, but I am honoured to have the use of the Tongue so that I may talk to you both.’ I could tell that they were flattered, so I pressed my case. ‘I wish I was enjoying this ride because you are both working so hard. I am sorry.’
‘Why are you not enjoying it?’ asked the bay.
‘Because the Prince is expecting me to fall. He wants me to fall because he thinks I’m not worthy of being out here with him, spoiling his afternoon.’ The explanation was not totally true, but it was easy for us all to see that Ardin would have preferred to be somewhere else, anywhere else. He thought he was babysitting. ‘And I think we should do something about that! Can you help?’
The dapple and the bay listened to my plan. It was a simple scheme. I began to ride ahead and very soon Ardin passed me. Once more I took the lead and once more, he passed me. This continued and each time the ride grew more frantic until the bay found a suitable fallen log. He reared up and the Prince fell heavily. He rolled down a grassy bank, gathering dead leaves in his hair and scratches from brambles as he went. At the bottom, he groaned and gingerly sat up. Seeing him, his proud, handsome face angry and crestfallen, I felt ashamed of my plotting, so I urged the dapple forward, quickly explaining that I had a new plan.
As the dapple and I slipped away from Ardin’s view, I screamed loudly, calling his name for help, and, as I hoped, he was back in the saddle fast and pursuing us. Eventually, he grasped the bridle of the pony and we began to slow. I threw myself to the ground and waited for him to rush to my aid.
‘Megwin, are you hurt?’ He lifted me and I tried to look dazed and grateful. His eyes told me that he was truly concerned for me and I allowed him to hold me until his was sure that I was recovered enough to stand. Our eyes, both anxious and concerned but for different reasons, met for a long moment. ‘It’s strange,’ he spoke with a nervous laugh, ‘but I felt so responsible for you and the thought of you being hurt gave me pain in my chest.’
It should have been me feeling responsible for him and I was ashamed at the foolishness of my little scheme. He offered me his hand and we returned to the Palace slowly. Still shaken, he followed behind as Silver Mantle ushered me back to my room. She promised him that she would keep him informed about my condition, and then she closed the door and fixed me with her coldest glare.
‘You were supposed to protect him, not get hurt yourself. You could have been seriously injured!’ Her words cut into my temples more painfully than anything the f
ox could inflict.
‘I’m not hurt,’ I pleaded, hugging my head. Then a fearful thing happened. She was inside my mind, reliving the events as if the past hour was happening again, forcing me to relive them. The pain flooded from my head down my limbs until everything screamed for it to stop, harsh, searing fire wrapping my bones in misery. Worse still was the invasion of my deepest self, she felt everything as I had felt it but with the intensity of one who had lived and experienced greater emotions than I. Stifling my fear, I tried to resist her. Waiting for the horror to be ended. Gradually, I felt our joined emotions ebb, a separation was relaxing us. Her hand raised to my cheek, tears in her eyes, shaking her head as a sad smile creased the corners of her mouth.
‘Forgive me Megwin.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I should have trusted you more. I apologise for inflicting such pain upon us both.’ She moved to sit in the chair, closing her eyes, measuring her breath, and for a while neither of us spoke. I tried not to think of anything, curling my feet under me as I hugged a cushion. At last she looked up and gave me one of her warmest smiles.
‘I was not hurt but I admit it was stupid to play a trick on the Prince.’ I did not smile back.
‘Perhaps it was a foolish prank but what you did after, that was a generous and thoughtful thing you did for your Prince. It was the act of a Mantle. You gave him back his dignity. It is easy for our kind to always be in command. It is far harder to allow those we watch over to feel they are the ones who protects us.’
My mind went back to the day of the earthquake, but my thoughts hesitated. She had been truly concerned for my safety. When Ardin had blurted out that I had fallen, her first thought had not been for her Prince, it had been for me. She had been filled with dread. Her eyes met mine.
‘I have never been fortunate enough to have a child, but you are precious to me.’ She was desperately controlling her voice, her expression. I could not. I rushed to her chair and threw my arms about her. We clung to each other until twilight descended. Perhaps it was then that I first realised how alone we both were and how close we were becoming.
◆◆◆
The day dawned fresh and clear. I woke early and felt restless, so I wrapped a fur blanket about my shoulders and walked between the tall roses. There was a heavy dew, and before long the hem of my shift was wet and streaked with green. Two green finches were chattering about the celebrations, telling me that the sound of the blacksmith had driven them from their nest earlier than usual.
‘Mans all think only of mans,’ a small voice announced. I looked about expecting some tiny birds or rodent but saw no one. The voice came from the direction of the statue and for a moment I wondered if my Listening could include stone. A fanciful notion, but that was the problem in those early days, I had no idea what my powers were or what they were going to be. I had to expect strange things and accept them as part of myself. I smiled at the statue but got no response.
‘Did someone speak?’ I asked, not expecting a reply.
‘Think it,’ came the answer. ‘Man speaken. Weez think it.’
‘Of course, I know you can’t speak but I can hear you thinking. You sound angry.’ I explained to keep whoever it was conversing until I found them. I began to search under bushes and inside pots.
‘Angry, think it? Mans all think only of mans. Mans wanten bloomen. Weez eaten bloomen. Mans killen weez. Bad deaden!’ The voice was definitely coming from somewhere near the statue. I looked about the base because I thought there might be a mouse hiding there. The voice laughed.
‘Mans can’t finden weez!’ Weez was right. I could not see anyone until I looked more carefully at the statue. ‘Mans finden weez!’ The little snail was chuckling as it slithered along the arm of the pretty stone maiden.
‘I will ask the gardeners to stop poisoning you.’ I touched the shell carefully. ‘Perhaps you could stop eating the roses when they are in full bloom.’
‘Weez eaten what weez always eaten. Weez stoppen if Mans leave weez in peace.’ It sounded like a fair bargain and I repeated my promise to speak with the gardener when I could. I was so involved in my negotiations with the snail that I had not noticed the Prince wandering into the garden. He was regarding me with amusement. To his eyes, I was holding a one-sided conversation with the statue. I smiled weakly.
‘Is the statue talking back to you or are you practising what you might say when you meet real people?’ The smirk on his face was not unkind.
I teased him. ’Hasn’t it occurred to you that I must have some magic? After all, I am Silver Mantle’s assistant. Perhaps I have the power to speak to statues. Perhaps I have statues as my spies, they’re everywhere in the Palace and see everything that happens. I was just checking with this one that the garden was a safe place for you.’
For a second he paused, then rolled his eyes. ‘Rubbish! You’re a child and you were playing some make-believe game. Don’t be embarrassed, Megwin. I sometimes practise what I want to say in the mirror before I say it to real people.’
I decided that it was easier to change the subject. ‘What are you doing here anyway? I thought you always went for a ride in the early morning?’
‘Already been. I came to see you. I have to be fitted for my robes today. I was wondering if you might like to be there with me. They’re coming to Silver Mantle’s apartments at noon.’ He picked at the head of one of the roses.
‘Careful! She doesn’t like it.’
He looked at me from under his eyebrows. ‘The rose doesn’t like it?’
‘You can believe what you like but I know that the rose wants to keep her blooms for as long as she can. You should apologise.’ I started to walk away then stopped. ‘I’d love to come and see your robes. At noon, then.’ I did not look back until I reached the door to the stone stair but when I did, I saw that he was bent over the rose and appeared to be whispering something.
◆◆◆
The days leading towards the birthday celebration were busy and full of new adventures for me. I was allowed to accompany Silver Mantle wherever she went, including most of her private audiences with the King. Each evening we sat at the high table with the King and I loved to listen to the clever conversations of the courtiers. The wittiest of all was King Llewid, who could turn what a person said like fashioning potter’s clay, until the words had new meanings. Sometimes he would wink at me as if to say, ‘Watch out, this one is going to be very funny.’ and of course it always was. I also began to take my task of protecting Ardin more seriously, although wherever we went, I felt only the people’s love and affection for their Prince.
‘Megwin of Brak,’ the King said to me, ‘do you still have that fox that you rescued from me?’ We were watching the final touches being added to the barge which would carry the Prince down the Listi.
‘He lives in the Talarin, your Majesty.’
‘And do you miss Brak?’
‘A little, sometimes, but Vellin is so beautiful, and I love being here.’
He leaned towards me. ‘I knew your mother you know, and you favour her. Some day you will be as beautiful. She had chestnut hair too.’ He placed his hand gently over the hair at my shoulder. The gesture was so full of tenderness that I was slow to detect Silver Mantle’s body stiffen. She avoided my glance and distracted the King by leading him to examine the fine brocade of the seating.
‘I had no idea our parents knew each other.’ Ardin said as we followed them.
‘Neither did I, except for a love of hunting that he shares with Remwith, my father.’ My heart was thumping, and I knew that it had more to do with Silver Mantle’s own inner turmoil that she was struggling to quell. I could not imagine what had caused her pain, but I was determined to ask her.
Every day, as Vellin was transformed, the streets became enchanted, full of colour and lively with the influx of visitors from the furthest parts of the Five Kingdoms. On the Listi gaudy barges blossomed like water lilies, the guilds competing with each other to impress with their decorations. Ardin and I wou
ld dress as townsfolk and walk through the town enjoying the activity and sampling the tasty morsels offered by street venders. The Prince particularly enjoyed scrambling back up the old goat tracks on the Angirat to meet with the fox. It fascinated him that the fox and I understood each other so well, that the fox appeared to understand what I was saying and responded. Despite the many little tests that he set for us, I don’t think he ever believed that we could communicate as we did.
