I smiled with pride. How clever my masteress was.
“No one has eaten any walnuts.” Master Sulow put two in my bowl and three in ITs.
I passed one back to him.
He cocked his head toward his three apprentices. “One will be a tolerable mansioner if I heckle and hound him ceaselessly. The girl shows promise as a carpenter, which I can always use, but the third might as well be a piece of cheese for all the good he will do me. If you hadn’t come, Meenore, I would have sought you out.”
My stomach fluttered.
“Why?” IT asked.
“To apologize. I own up when I’m wrong, unlike some conceited dragons.”
“I am never wrong.” Enh enh enh.
“To apologize to Elodie.” He turned to me.
My heart fluttered.
“I regret that your improvisation for His Lordship’s guests was cut short.”
“Th-thank you.”
“I should have taken you when I saw your Thisbe. I’ll be honored if you apprentice with me.”
Chapter Thirty
Lambs and calves!
IT said something and Master Sulow answered, but I didn’t hear. Instead, my mind numb with astonishment, I turned to watch the other mansioners, who were laughing among themselves. I counted a dozen of them—young, old, fair, uncomely—because there were roles for all sorts.
My masteress snapped, “I pay her!”
I came to attention.
“Alas, the guild does not allow me to pay an apprentice.”
“Then make her a journeyman.”
A journeyman? I gripped the bench with the hand that didn’t hold my bowl.
Silence fell between them.
But IT had said I was in danger and had to remain with IT. Had IT changed ITs mind?
“I will pay her. And you, Meenore, may sell your skewers here.”
This was my soft bed sending me a pillowy dream. I was still in the lair. I could say anything. Real mistakes were impossible in a dream. “Pay me how much?”
“The beginning rate for a mansioner is two coppers a month. The guild will not let me pay less.”
From my masteress I would accumulate a single copper in six months.
Quickly he added, “The guild will not let me pay more, either.”
Talk of the guild didn’t sound dreamlike. “Why are you willing to pay me?” I wanted to hear him say I was that good.
He said so. “The mayor laughed, and I’ve been trying to extort a smile from him for fifteen years. The women left off looking at Thiel and watched you.”
“Lodie has not the temperament of a mansioner.”
I thought IT wanted me to be a journeyman.
“Meenore, let me decide that.”
Let me!
“She is helping me discover what befell His Lordship. I will not release her until we are done.”
“And then, Masteress?” I asked.
“Then you may decide.” IT knew I wouldn’t leave until the count was found or until we were convinced he would never be found.
But then I would leave. I would rather be a mansioner than even a dragon’s assistant.
How my spirits rose! I still pitied His Lordship, but I couldn’t feel sad. La! as the princess would have said. La! La!
“You may hasten our inquiries, Sulow, by answering a few questions. We visited today for that purpose, not for you to wheedle my assistant away from me.”
Master Sulow transferred the tray from between himself and me to his other side, signifying that sociability had ended. “Ask what you like. I’ll answer as I choose.”
If Master Sulow had had any part in setting the cats on the count, I wouldn’t mansion for him.
“When you were in the kitchen waiting to perform, what did you notice?”
“No one wanted to serve His Majesty. One maid destined for him dropped her tray and wept.”
“How long did you spend in the hall itself?”
“I was present to hear my minstrel and then again to watch my apprentices set up, and of course I saw Elodie.” He stood and sketched a brief bow for me.
I curtsied.
“Thus I was there when the cats stalked His Lordship. I could have started them stalking myself, but why would I? Elodie could have as well.”
I? I?
But I couldn’t have. Everyone was watching me. Master Sulow knew that.
“I don’t fancy an ogre owning a castle,” Master Sulow said, “but he paid me handsomely. Meenore, nothing passed in the hall to show where His Lordship is now.”
“Would you have liked the count to become king?”
“An ogre in place of a tyrant? The ogre is far more generous.”
“Master Sulow,” I said, “did Master Thiel catch your eye?”
“Thiel? Yes. While His Lordship was shape-shifting, Thiel slid a silver spoon up his sleeve.”
Thieving even then.
“And two wine tumblers as well. But I didn’t see him signal the cats.”
“Four nights ago,” I said, “were you practicing a lion role? Did you roar in the middle of the night?”
“Several nights ago, yes. I don’t remember how many.”
“Were you practicing in your mansion, master?”
“No. When I’m sleepless, I march above the town and rehearse at full voice.”
“More than one person heard a lion that night,” IT said. “Have you told anyone of your late rehearsing?”
“No one.”
The townsfolk who heard wouldn’t have known it was Master Sulow. They would have thought it was His Lordship as a lion. Had Master Sulow set the ogre trap?
He told us nothing else I thought of interest. When IT had exhausted ITs questions, he gave us leave to speak with his apprentices and the minstrel.
The apprentices said they’d been too intent on their preparations to attend to anything else. They claimed not to have been aware of the stalking until the ogre began to vibrate, which they felt before they saw.
The minstrel had been on her way back to the mansions when the trouble began, but she told us about her observations while she sang. “One in the hall hardly watched me. An elderly goodwife kept her eyes on you, young mistress. Whenever you poured for His Highness, she fidgeted and whispered to her goodman, which was rude while I was singing.”
“Where did this goodwife sit?” I asked.
The minstrel gave the answer I already knew: She sat in Goodwife Celeste’s seat.
Chapter Thirty-One
The noon bells were ringing when we left the mansions. I walked upwind of IT. “Masteress, why do you think my temperament is wrong for a mansioner?”
“Sulow spoke to the heart of it. He gives his audience what they want. You will give them what you want.”
Was that true of me? For now I hoped only to perform.
“Next we will speak with Master Thiel.” IT set off through a field, heading south.
“At His Lordship’s castle?” The castle lay to the south. I was eager to go there and learn any news that might be. Perhaps the count had returned.
“Master Thiel will not soon revisit the castle in daylight. By now someone has counted the silver and the plate. Lodie, I have not half the day to walk with you to His Lordship’s woods. You must ride.”
“But we have no donkey.”
“Common sense! Ride on me.”
“You?”
IT lowered ITself to ITs belly, then rolled onto ITs side. “Keep your cloak under you. My skin grows hotter as I fly. Now climb on.”
I balanced myself, one hip against it, one foot on the ground. IT stood and slid me into place with ITs shoulder. I crossed my legs so all of me was on my cloak. If ITs skin was going to be too hot to touch, there would be nothing to hang on to.
I’m not frightened, I told myself, and clasped my hands so tight the skin whitened. IT ran and flapped ITs wings, bouncing me hard while I could still cling to IT, but the moment we were aloft, ITs flight evened.
Mothe
r! Father! Albin! I’m a bird!
The day was calm, but flying made a wind. What power, to create a wind! The air ballooned the princess’s cap, lifting it half off my head.
ITs wings pumped. My view flickered. Wings raised, and I saw the landscape, blurred and tinted, through ITs wing segments. Wings down, and my sight cleared. Below lay the count’s castle. I leaned over and almost fell.
How reduced the castle seemed from above! I saw it as if drawn on parchment: six squares for towers on the outer curtain, four circles for the inner towers; big horseshoes for the inner gatehouses, smaller horseshoes for the outer ones; straight lines for the curtain walls, except the front wall, which bulged outward, edged by the meandering moat.
Two people—sparrow size—walked along the inner curtain wall walk, four along the larger outer. Several stood here and there in the inner ward, several in the outer. The search was still in progress. His Lordship hadn’t returned, but they hadn’t given up hope.
South of the castle the hills rippled higher and higher toward the distant mountains. Below us lay pastures and cleared fields and fields that had not yet been harvested. Beyond was forest, evergreen and autumn orange. I wondered if all I saw belonged to His Lordship.
Approaching the forest, IT flew lower, and ITs wing strokes shortened. My ride became bumpy again. I would have fallen if IT hadn’t tilted to save me.
IT landed and ran. I jounced up and down but, luckily, not sideways. Wings still beating, IT careered directly at the woods.
I had seen IT land more neatly than this. IT was toying with me!
So I refused to be frightened. I leaned back and thought about how I’d roll off if we crashed into the trees that were rushing at us. At the last moment IT turned aside, slowed, and stopped. IT lowered ITself and folded ITs wings.
Enh enh enh.
I slid off, stood, lost my footing, and toppled, becoming filthy yet again.
IT furrowed ITs eye ridges. I dusted myself off.
IT whispered, “Kindly mansion Princess Renn’s voice, but softly.”
Her voice wasn’t soft. Still, I tried. “La! Perhaps I can. No, I can do better.” I thought about what she might say. “La, Masteress!” I raised and lowered my pitch without increasing my noise. “How brave you are to fly!”
“Please call to Thiel. Not softly.”
“What should I say?” I whispered, too.
“Desire him to come to you—to her.”
Why? I invented a reason. “Thiel?” I cried, loud enough to be heard a mile away. “Thiel? La! I cannot catch my breath. I have such news! La, Thiel, come!”
“You have set the trap. Now we must wait.”
A flock of geese passed overhead. I watched the ground, looking for a mouse. Dead leaves rustled in the woods. I raised my head and saw a shadow among the trees, and then Master Thiel emerged.
“Good day, Masteress Meenore, Mistress Elodie.” He sounded as if he’d expected us. “Young mistress, you had only to call me in your own voice and I would have come. You are a treat, however, at imitating Her Highness.”
I blushed. It made no difference that I knew him to be a thief. In his presence I had to blush.
“Lodie,” IT said, “not far into the woods you will find a sack, guarded by his cat. Please fetch it. If the cat snarls, kick him.”
“Pray leave the sack, Mistress Lodie, and don’t kick Pardine.”
I started into the forest.
“The sack holds a brace of partridges,” Master Thiel said. “Are you here to rob the poacher?”
“Return Lodie’s copper, answer my questions, and you may keep the partridges.”
I turned. “And return Master Dess’s cow.”
He snapped his fingers, and Pardine pranced by me with a sack in his mouth. I left the woods, too. Master Thiel took the sack, hung it from his belt, and lifted Pardine into his arms. I noticed again his twine ring. If anyone needed an eejis, Master Thiel was the one.
“Young Mistress Elodie, the cow is gone.”
Oh. For Master Dess’s sake, I hoped she’d been taken to a farm and not eaten.
“Ask what you like, Meenore. I am an honest man.”
IT snorted. “Bonay has told me what goods you bring him.”
“I appeal to you, Mistress Elodie. My father left me to starve. I think it my duty not to.”
I blushed.
“Here is my first question: Why would you not set the cats on His Lordship?”
“Rather ask why I would. Why would I hurt someone, even an ogre? I wouldn’t. I didn’t.” He paused. “What would I gain?”
That was the real question with him.
“What would he gain, Lodie?”
I touched the purse at my waist, which still lacked the stolen copper. “Revenge on His Lordship for owning your grandfather’s castle. Because you, too, hate ogres and—”
“I hate no one.”
I rushed on before his innocent look stopped me. “And you don’t want an ogre to be king.”
“What else, Lodie?”
Induce. Deduce. Think. “His Lordship discovered your poaching and was furious.”
“I am never discovered”—he bowed to my masteress— “except by a masteress of discernment.”
Enh enh enh.
“I didn’t harm His Lordship.”
Pink smoke curled up from ITs mouth. “You harmed him. In these woods the beasts were his companions. Now, tell me where you think he would hide and how he would act.”
“As a mouse?”
“And after, if a cat didn’t eat him.”
“As a different animal? My dear Meenore, you should ask Mistress Elodie. Sulow says I have no talent for mansioning.”
“I am asking you.”
“I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you something. I didn’t think of it until this morning. Walking here with Pardine, I reviewed the lamentable events of that afternoon, and I remembered seeing Sir Misyur flick his wrist.”
No! Sir Misyur loved the ogre. I looked at Masteress Meenore, but ITs expression showed nothing.
“I almost missed it and didn’t pay attention then. I was laughing too hard. Mistress Elodie, you and he might have been conspiring to keep us from seeing.”
What?
IT said nothing.
“I apologize. You would not conspire. Sir Misyur gestured to the servers to delay the next remove. He could see no one wanted an interruption while you performed. His signal to the cats was in addition to the gesture to the servers. It was slight, but a cat teacher couldn’t miss it.”
“Plausible,” IT said.
Impossible, I thought.
“I have more proof. The lord mayor read the count’s will last night. He left everything to Sir Misyur. The news is all over town.”
I could hardly take it in. Before I could form a thought, ITs tail whipped around Master Thiel’s waist and ITs smoke turned purple.
“Let me go, Meenore. Ouch! What have I done?”
“You have told His Majesty about Sir Misyur’s wrist flick, or you have told someone who will tell His Majesty.”
“I thought of it only this morning and I’ve been here. Let me go.”
“You concocted the wrist flick when you heard about the will, and you will make sure His Majesty is informed as soon as you may. Lodie, why will he do so?”
I felt as confused as a mansioner who’s entered the wrong tale.
“Your scales are hot!”
“How unfortunate for you. Lodie?”
“Because Master Thiel doesn’t want Sir Misyur to inherit.”
“And what else?”
I spoke slowly, reasoning it out. “Because . . . neither . . . will . . . His . . . Majesty . . .” I had it! “His Majesty will seize the castle. People will believe Sir Misyur guilty because he had riches to gain.” I felt breathless. “Master Thiel will receive a reward for his lie.”
“I have not told His Majesty. Whatever you think of me, I cannot. Let me go and I’ll say why.”
IT freed Master Thiel with a snap so sharp that he spun twice on his heels.
“Do not try to run or I will snatch you up again, and I will not be gentle next time.”
Master Thiel regained his balance. “Word is all over town. His Highness is deathly ill, poisoned during the feast. He sickened in the middle of last night.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Master Thiel smiled. “The news is distressing to His Majesty’s subjects.”
How unfeeling he was. I shivered. Greedy Grenny was horrible, but I didn’t wish him poisoned.
My masteress gripped Master Thiel’s arm with a claw. “Who is blamed?”
“Master Jak and the taster are imprisoned.”
IT let Master Thiel go. “Lodie, we must leave.”
“Then I may check my traps, unhindered?”
“Yes. No.” The tip of ITs tail circled his ankle. “Give Lodie her copper.”
He produced a copper from his purse. “Pardine couldn’t tell how pretty you are, or he’d have left you alone.” He bowed.
I didn’t blush. I was finished. “Is anyone else ill?” I asked. “Any of the others on the dais?”
“I’ve been told that Her Highness was a little ill, nothing serious. Her father did not share much of his meal with anyone.”
“Gluttony and selfishness to good purpose for once.” IT lowered ITself. “Lodie, take your seat.”
IT landed in a pasture distant enough from both the forest and His Lordship’s castle to be hidden from both. I jumped down.
“I must deduce and induce and use my common sense.” IT extended ITself on the ground and closed ITs eyes. Only ITs tail switched slowly back and forth. Wisps of smoke rose from ITs nostrils.
I sat on the browning grass. On the farm at this hour, Father and Albin were likely leaving the apple orchard for their midday meal. Our dog, Hoont, would be dancing between the two men, an apple in her mouth, begging to be chased. At home Mother would be stirring the pottage pot. If I were there, I’d be setting out bowls and spoons.
IT raised ITs head and opened ITs eyes. “Lodie, did you see Sir Misyur pass any delicacies to the king?”
“Do you think he and not Master Jak or the taster poisoned him?”
A Tale of Two Castles Page 17
