The Nostradamus Prophecy

by Theresa Breslin

  I saw the queen’s eyes once more range around the hall. There were more Guise men-at-arms present than any others. She spoke directly to the Duke of Guise. ‘You think there is some plot here?’

  ‘I think this warrants careful investigation,’ the Duke of Guise replied. He gave Ferignay a look, but it was one of annoyance. His own conspiring had been thrown out of order by this matter, yet he must defend his kinsman.

  ‘Your majesty,’ I said. ‘I came to ask you to look into my sister’s death, and Armand’s murder.’

  ‘These people are wandering minstrels.’ The Count de Ferignay spoke out again. ‘They had not been given royal permission to depart, yet when I went to their rooms to express my grief at their loss they were packed to leave. You may wish to know that the minstrel has a home in the Isle of Bressay which lies near the border of Navarre.’

  ‘Is this true?’ the queen asked my father.

  ‘Yes, but—’ he began.

  She raised her hand. ‘I will delay our evening meal no longer. Tomorrow we must remove the king and the court to a more suitable place to tend him in his illness and that he may deal with the affairs of state. Your case will be heard then. In the meantime I think it best to have you and your daughter kept close guarded. But’ – she looked coolly at the Duke of Guise – ‘by my own soldiers. Have your men stand down. And the Count de Ferignay must remain with the court until this matter is resolved.’

  My father had contrived to come near to me where I stood in disbelief. The murderer was allowed his liberty while we were to be close guarded! We could be assassinated in any number of ways, or kept and forgotten about for twenty years or more, or even executed without trial, as the Huguenots had been.

  My father stretched out his hand and, under the pretext of stroking my hair, whispered, ‘If you can seize an opportunity as they change guards, then run, Mélisande, and save yourself.’

  And for once I obeyed him without arguing. There was ill feeling between the two sets of soldiers who nudged and prodded each other as we were ushered towards the main exit. People had gathered there, pressing forward to see the father and the sister of the girl who had killed herself for love. In among them I saw the face of the scullion boy. He made a sign to me with his hand and shouted, ‘A rat! I see a rat! A huge one. On the table, there!’

  The people at whose table he pointed jumped up, overturning their stools. My father pushed through the soldiers surrounding us and ran one way, pretending to escape. I ducked behind the soldier nearest me and raced in the other direction and out of a side door. Ahead of me was a staircase ascending, and beside it an outside door. It was closed. I ran and pulled it open. But strong arms captured me, one wrapped round my upper body, pinioning my arms.

  And then a hand over my mouth.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A VOICE IN my ear.

  Quietly.

  ‘It is I, Melchior.’

  He pulled me in against the wall and up the stairs.

  ‘If we go up we are caught inside the palace,’ I said.

  He put his fingers to his lips. ‘Trust me,’ he said.

  And I did.

  He pointed upwards and I followed him as fast and as silently as I could. We heard men rushing outside through the door below. On and on we climbed until we were at the top and there was, as I had suspected, no outlet.

  ‘We are trapped,’ I said.

  ‘Not so.’ Melchior shook his head. ‘In here.’

  At floor level there was a long slim aperture. He got down and squeezed himself inside. He stretched out his hand. ‘Come.’

  It was more difficult for me, hampered as I was with the bag containing my mandolin and travelling cloak, but I would not leave it, could not leave it behind, for it would show the way we had gone. And already there was a noise of many feet upon the stairs. I knelt down and rolled into the roof space beside Melchior.

  ‘Follow,’ he said. And began to crawl away from me.

  In the blinding darkness I went after him. Then we came to a place where it opened out. There was more room and more light too. We reached the point where the flooring stopped. I looked out and a wave of vertigo engulfed me. We were in the ceiling above the great hall.

  Melchior pointed. ‘We must cross to the other side,’ he said.

  ‘How?’

  He indicated the roof beams that were here exposed and extended from one side of the hall to the other.

  I shook my head and backed away.

  ‘Give me your hand.’

  His voice was neither pleading nor commanding. He held out his own. I looked down. I felt my head sway and my whole body was drawn towards the edge.

  ‘Look at me!’ His voice more insistent this time. I looked into his eyes. They were calm yet within their depths I saw determination. ‘You can do this,’ he said. ‘You can do this.’

  I put my hand in his.

  He walked out onto the beam. Perfectly balanced, like a cat.

  ‘Place your feet with care,’ he said.

  I glanced down to see where to position my foot.

  The yawning depth of the floor rushed up to greet me.

  ‘Thou must not look down!’ His voice was compelling. ‘Feel your way as you go.’

  But I could not help but look.

  In the hall below us the soldiers threw over benches and chairs as they searched for me. If any one of them raised their eyes I was doomed.

  We were both doomed.

  I was suddenly aware of what an enormous risk Melchior was taking in helping me. The Count de Ferignay bore him a grudge. He believed the boy had terrorized his dogs and humiliated him before the king. Ferignay would be glad of any excuse to have Melchior punished.

  We had reached the centre part of the hall. Here there was an intersection of the ceiling rafters. We could pause and take rest. I clung on and breathed. The huge chandelier hung below us. The lights of the hundred candles flared as it moved slowly in the disturbance created by the search. The cross spars of the sconce supports cast their shadow over the room.

  ‘We must go down there.’ Melchior indicated the sloping roof joist.

  I stared at him. The beam fell at an angle. I would be unable to walk upon it.

  ‘It is necessary. There will be some space where it connects under the roof edge and we can get through to the other side of the palace.’

  Swing myself over and slide down the beam, hampered by my dress and carrying the mandolin? It was impossible.

  ‘It is the way to freedom. You will do this.’ Melchior nodded encouragement. And then he did something unexpected. He grinned at me.

  I was taken by surprise. The normal solemn appearance of his face changed. His teeth showed dazzling white and his eyes lit up with humour. I could not help myself and smiled at him in return.

  And I thought I understood at least one of the reasons Melchior was helping me. In my escape he would have the satisfaction of outsmarting those who hunted us, the ones who thought they controlled his life. He and his leopard were prisoners, but part of him would flee with me.

  And despite being in imminent danger, at some level my mind thought: There should be a song for this – how the hunted outwits the hunter.

  ‘I will go first.’

  Melchior swung himself over easily and lay astride the beam, much as the leopard had done along the tree in the forest. Then he reached out an arm to help me do the same.

  We slid down between the stones and the underside of the roof. I was small enough to get between the solid bulwark of the palace wall and the overhang. Melchior was supple, his body as lithe as the big cat who was his companion. Within minutes we were outside on the roof tiles. There he grasped my hand and we manoeuvred our way to the chimneys. He hoisted me up and joined me above a kitchen service chimney.

  ‘Down here,’ he said.

  I looked inside. There were no footholds.

  ‘There is a way to do this, if you brace yourself against the sides of the wall. I will go first and show yo
u.’

  It also occurred to me that should I lose my footing he would break my fall.

  ‘We will hear them searching for you as we pass by each floor.’

  He looked up at me and smiled, his teeth flashing white in the gloom. My heart lifted. And I believed that I might live.

  We did hear the guards and Ferignay’s men, who were soon joined by others as they hunted for me. In lieu of any other diversion it became their evening’s sport. And as I listened to them, I shook with apprehension at what my father’s fate would be. But I knew that he would want me to escape and I tried not to think what might happen if the soldiers found me. I did not know if I would be brave enough to choose my sister’s way of release.

  I faltered then as I thought of her, my Chantelle. Tears flooded my eyes.

  ‘What’s amiss?’ Melchior’s whisper was far below me. ‘There is no time to delay,’ he said. ‘We must reach our destination before the soldiers.’

  Where were we going? I had not thought to ask him.

  The palace of Cherboucy was not so big that I would be able to hide safely for long. We were almost at the kitchen. Having prepared the food, the kitchen staff were eating their own meal, scullions and cooks’ boys squatting where they could, scrabbling with the house dogs and cats for the scraps and leftovers. We came from the chimney in the corner. To be covered in soot with torn clothes was not so out of place here. I went where Melchior led me, padding on soft feet.

  I knew now where we were headed.

  To the lair of the leopard.

  ‘The Count de Ferignay is an insidious and vicious man,’ I said as Melchior opened the door of his cellar room. ‘He will search everywhere for me, including here.’

  ‘There is a place where you might hide where he will not look.’

  ‘Where?’ I asked him.

  He answered my question with one of his own. ‘How brave are you?’

  And stretching out his hand, Melchior opened up the leopard’s cage.

  I took a step back.

  The leopard got to its feet and padded towards us. I stepped behind Melchior.

  ‘Never do that,’ he said. ‘Never show a wild beast that you are afraid.’

  Melchior moved so that we were again side by side. Then he put his arm around my shoulder. ‘It is not widely known, but a leopard does not view man as his prey. Little children, yes, a leopard will eat them.’ Melchior appraised me. ‘But you are not a child, Mélisande, are you?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘So. I want you to come into the cage with me.’

  I hesitated. My heart was thudding.

  ‘This then is your choice,’ said Melchior. ‘Enter the cage. Or remain outside and be captured when Ferignay’s men search underground.’ He tilted his head. ‘Listen. They are already in the kitchens.’

  We could hear the sounds of yelling, dishes breaking, and pots and pans being thrown against walls.

  Melchior looked at me. He walked into the leopard’s cage.

  And I followed him.

  Chapter Twenty

  THE LEOPARD’S EARS pricked up.

  ‘Be steadfast,’ Melchior said in a quiet voice.

  He knelt down and breathed into the animal’s face. Then he undid the muzzle and cast it aside. The leopard opened its jaws to yawn and I saw its teeth and the full length of its throat. I felt again the sickness of terror. It turned its head to look at me.

  ‘If Paladin remains muzzled then the soldiers might be tempted to enter the cage and look amongst the straw.’ Melchior pointed to the heap of straw in the corner. ‘The straw in which you are going to hide. Now!’ He urged me as the sound of marching men came nearer. I knelt down and crawled in among the straw.

  I heard Melchior refasten the cage. Then came the noise of the half-door being kicked open.

  ‘What a stench!’ one of the soldiers said. ‘It’s the boy and the leopard. Though which is which is hard to say.’

  His companions guffawed as they threw Melchior’s pallet bed up in the air and knocked over his food dishes. Paladin growled and a soldier banged his pikestaff against the rails of his cage. ‘Quieten down,’ he ordered. ‘You’re not above the king’s law even though you be a beast.’

  ‘But the king loves the leopard, don’t you know,’ said another soldier nervously. ‘So don’t be annoying it. If the animal won’t hunt next time then we’ll get the blame.’

  ‘We’re supposed to search everywhere,’ said the captain. ‘So who’s going into the cage?’

  My heart quailed for, if they did, there was nowhere to run.

  I heard Melchior’s voice utter a command. The next instant a fearsome roar came from Paladin’s throat.

  ‘I’m not going in there,’ said the first soldier.

  ‘Ha! Ha! Only joking,’ said the captain.

  Their feet echoed away but I waited, unmoving, until Melchior came into the cage and re-muzzled Paladin.

  We sat down then and tried to think of a way that I could leave the palace.

  ‘The court is moving tomorrow,’ said Melchior. ‘Already servants are being sent on ahead to prepare the next castle. It may be that you could go out with a group of them. Let me go and see what is happening at the exit gates.’

  It was over an hour before Melchior returned, carrying an assortment of clothes.

  ‘The lower servants are assembling in the courtyards,’ he told me. ‘They are being scrutinized as they climb into the carts that are taking them to the next castle. I found out that after the king leaves tomorrow some soldiers will wait behind and search every room in the palace until they find you.’

  ‘Then I must hide as best I can,’ I answered him. ‘Perhaps in one of the chimneys. I am slighter than most men. I can go where they cannot.’

  Melchior shook his head. ‘They will have hunting dogs. Remember the Count de Ferignay has his own pack of hounds. And you will have left enough clothes behind for them to take your scent.’

  I looked into the leopard’s cage. ‘I cannot travel out lying among the straw,’ I said. ‘In daylight there is a greater chance of me being seen.’

  ‘This is true,’ said Melchior. ‘But it may be possible for you to get away now’ – he held up the bundle of clothes he carried – ‘disguised as a servant.’

  ‘But you said they are studying each person as they climb into the carts,’ I protested. ‘They will see instantly who I am.’

  ‘They are looking for a girl,’ Melchior replied. ‘You will not be a girl.’

  That night Melchior cut my hair. He made it so that it flopped over my face and down my neck. When he had done he admired his handiwork.

  ‘Already you are unrecognizable.’ He grinned at me and handed me my boy’s clothes.

  As I began to unfasten my dress Melchior courteously went and busied himself by going back into the leopard’s cage to conceal the bag containing my mandolin and travelling cloak under the straw. I dressed myself in the breeches, tunic, cap and sandals that he had stolen for me.

  ‘I am ready,’ I said.

  He turned and tilted his head to one side. He walked all around me, then he bent and dug his fingers into the earth of the floor. Straightening up, he took my chin firmly in one hand and, using the forefinger of the other, he began to streak my face with dirt. When he had completed this to his satisfaction he said, ‘Now you must do the same with your own hands and the parts of your legs that show between your breeches and sandals.’

  As he said this his face was very close to mine. I could see deep into the tawny eyes. Their depths flickered with a strange wildness.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. My voice was hoarse.

  He had not released his grip on my chin. And I did not move to free myself.

  His gaze went slowly over my face, forehead, nose, cheeks, mouth.

  He brought his own mouth close to mine.

  ‘Mélisande.’ He breathed my name.

  With extreme tension in my stomach and a pounding in my head I walked behind Melchior in
to the kitchen courtyard. We had delayed my departure until the darkest watches of the night when we reckoned the soldiers would be less vigilant. Under the arches of an outside corridor we waited for a suitable moment. When a squabbling group of cooks’ boys and scullions came trailing past us Melchior gave me a small push.

  ‘Go now,’ he whispered. ‘And do not look back at me.’

  I did as he said, but just before we parted I reached behind me with my hand and for the briefest second his fingertips touched mine.

  Then he murmured something else. It chimed so exactly with the words in my head that I was never sure if Melchior had spoken, or it was merely my own thoughts I heard.

  I slipped out and joined the other servant boys. With shaking legs I shuffled forward in the line. The kitchen master in charge of this batch yawned as he held his lamp and looked at each of us in turn. He frowned as he caught sight of me.

  ‘You’re not one of mine,’ he said.

  My tongue and throat were so dry I could not reply.

  He brought the light closer.

  ‘Are you with the Spanish cook, Alvaro?’

  I nodded.

  He made an expression of annoyance as he added a stroke to his tally sheet. ‘Leave this cart at the first stop and go off and find your own,’ he ordered me.

  I nodded my head.

  Clambering onto the cart, the boys jostled and slapped each other in the type of rough play that I was totally unaccustomed to. At first I shrank away from them but then I realized that I might be left behind and I grabbed the arm of the one nearest me and levered myself up. Copying their ways, I shoved myself rudely in among them and managed to find a place to squat in the depths of the cart.

  At the gate the guard shone his lantern into the cart. But he was not interested in examining us. He only checked that the number of persons on board matched the number on the sheet presented by the person leading the carthorses. His enquiry as to whether there was any girl amongst us was met with whistles and crude remarks. He waved us on and as dawn light flooded the sky we trundled out of the gate of Cherboucy Palace.