They all turned to see a weathered, but kind-faced, gray-haired man dressed in a smock and canvas trews; he was looking, not at Lady Dia, but at the boys. Dia didn’t get a chance to answer, because both of them practically burst out with “Yes, please!”
So the rest of the afternoon, they not only heard what a farmer’s life was like, but were taken around to see the beasts this particular man had brought to show and sell. They also met his wife, who had entered cheese and preserves in contests, and six of his twelve children. Three of the ones who were not at the Fair were married and taking care of their own farms, and the other three had stayed behind to tend the family farm in the absence of the rest. By the time they all went up the Hill in the wagon, Abi reckoned the boys had gotten one of the best educations on farming in a single afternoon that they were ever likely to see.
After that long a day around animals, Abi ordered both of them to make a complete wash-up, and got one for herself, before they all went to their rooms for supper. Not even traipsing around the Fair all day had repressed Kee’s energy; he chattered at high speed to Kat and his nurse when Abi delivered him to the door of the Royal Suite. Abi was exceedingly grateful that Tory was less talkative.
Mags was in very good spirits when he joined them, and so was Perry. The first words he said over dinner explained it.
“So, did ye like m’agent, then?” he asked of Abi and Tory. “I’ve allus found ’im a good feller.”
“Seth Wrenmarsh is your agent?” Abi exclaimed. “He’s a very nice man!”
“Th’ whole Wrenmarsh fam’ly,” Mags corrected. “Though proper speakin’ ’e was yer Granther’s agent afore ’e was mine.”
“I saw you at the dog shows, so I asked him to keep an eye on you, since he had a dog in the sheepherding contest anyway,” Perry said proudly. “After all you did have Kee with you. I wanted another safe pair of eyes on our little Prince.”
“Did he win?” was all Abi wanted to know. “Wrenmarsh’s dog, I mean.”
“Came in second,” said Perry. “Wrenmarsh wasn’t put out though; his dog is just a pup, and it’ll do better next time.”
Abi didn’t honestly expect to hear anything more about the kindly farmer ever again, but the next day, she was to get a surprise, when she was called out of class by her father.
* * *
• • •
Mags didn’t say anything to her at all other than, “Abi, there’s a problem ye might could help with,” before he led her to the King’s Lesser Audience Chamber. And there, much to her astonishment, was Seth Wrenmarsh, who had evidently just finished explaining something to King Sedric.
“And here’s the girl who might be able to help you, Goodman Wrenmarsh,” the King said cheerfully as she and her father entered after being announced.
Wrenmarsh’s brow furrowed. “I mun say, Highness, I were expectin’ some’un older.”
“Just tell your tale all over again, and we’ll see,” the King urged him.
He shrugged. “It be short enow. We be neighbors t’ the Lord or Lady of Asterleigh Manor, time out’o mind, as be most’o the freeholders ’round it. Now, ye mind I said ‘freeholders,’ aye, young mistress?”
Abi nodded. “So you all hold your property and farms in your own right, not renting them from the Manor.”
“Aye that. Manor has ’un’s own Home Farm, an’ that’s all. Happen they had more, betimes. Every farm round about milord’s manor was rented from ’em. But milady’s great-granther died, an’ the fortune couldna be found.”
“Wait . . . what do you mean, couldn’t be found?” Abi asked.
“Happen th’ old man had it hid an’ didna tell the wife afore he broket his neck. She were his second, an’ young, and mayhap he didna trust her to be sensible like.” Wrenmarsh shrugged. “So there was some bad years, rents was down, family sold off the land, piece by piece, ’til it come to t’day. Lady Asterleigh’s a good wench and doesna want t’ lose her only home, so I comes t’King, on account’o our special business, t’see if the Crown might do aught.”
Abi sensed there was a great deal more to this story than Wrenmarsh was saying, but she held her peace. She had not been her father’s daughter all her life not to know that some secrets were not for telling to just anyone.
“I suggested that the lady sell the property and come join the Queen’s Handmaidens, but it appears there are difficulties with that,” the King said, without elaborating on the “difficulties.” “Wrenmarsh suggested that perhaps a Master Builder might be able to find the hiding place of the family fortune, where the efforts of the family had failed. I thought of you. Abi, is it possible that your gift might betray a void in the walls where searching has not?”
Abi had been practicing that Gift daily, and at this point, all she had to do was close her eyes to see the flow of pressure and stresses in any built object. To her inner eye it looked like slowly flowing water, with a color variation showing where the stress was strongest. But could that reveal a hidden void?
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe? I’ve never had any building to try it on.”
“’Tisn’t far,” Wrenmarsh said persuasively. “Nobbut a few candlemarks.”
“Perry can go with you,” Mags suggested. “There’s always the chance mice might know about such a hiding place.”
Well, why not? She’d never been outside of Haven, and even if this wasn’t anything like Perry’s epic adventure in the Pelagiris Forest, it should be fun and different, and she certainly could not make matters worse. “I’ll go make up a pack,” she said. “Then I can leave when you’re ready, Goodman Wrenmarsh.”
“Yer a good lass,” Wrenmarsh said warmly. “No matter what, the Lady’ll be grateful to ye.”
Wrenmarsh’s business at the Fair wasn’t concluded for another two days, which gave her plenty of time to get study assignments from her teachers and make up somewhat more than a pack to take with her. She, Perry, and Larral, with Rolan carrying their packs for them, walked down into the city to the half-dismantled Fair on that third morning to find Wrenmarsh, his three now empty wagons, his six children, and the sheepdog waiting for them, all ready to go. The farmer and his children, the youngest of whom was Perry’s age, greeted Rolan like an old friend when they saw him and fed him two beautiful apples before everyone decided who was riding with whom and the wagons departed. Perry, Larral, and Abi all rode in the third wagon with the youngest of the six children driving.
“Do you all work with my father?” Abi asked, when they were safely away from prying ears.
“Oh, aye,” the lad said cheerfully. “Not that what any’un but Pa’s done anythin’ special. We mostly jist keep ear t’ground and eyes lookin’ fer anythin’ that might be troublesome.” He elbowed Perry, who was on the driver’s seat beside him. “An’ sometime now an’ agin, it’ll be this layabout we’ll be talkin’ to.”
Perry grinned and elbowed back. “Just no more traveler’s tales about goat-sucking monsters.”
The boy shook his head so his blond hair flopped into his eyes. “No foolin’ you, city boy,” he said ruefully.
Abi just kept quiet and let the two of them banter on. It seemed that not only did Perry know Rafi Wrenmarsh very well, but that the Wrenmarshes were the very proud owners of two of the mastiffs he’d brought back from the Pelagiris Forest—the very last two he’d given away before returning to Haven. By sitting quietly on her pack in the wagon bed, she learned pretty much everything she would have asked without needing to go to the effort of breaking into their conversation.
She learned, for instance, that she and Perry would be dropped off at Asterleigh Manor on the way to the Wrenmarsh farm and that Lady Asterleigh would be expecting them, thanks to a message sent yesterday via another of the freeholders from the area. She learned that Lady Asterleigh had a very sound plan regarding the missing inheritance should it be found. The Home Farm w
as not large enough to be anything more than self-supporting, but by converting almost all of the arable land to herbs, she should be able to make a profit, since the farm was near enough to Haven to permit regular deliveries the year around of either fresh or dried herbs.
And still, there was a gaping hole they were all dancing around. Just why was it that Sussena, Lady Asterleigh, could not simply sell the place, move to the court, become one of the Handmaidens, and save the money from the sale of her property as a potential dowry. This was making Abi exceedingly curious. It wasn’t age—she was just a little past nineteen and certainly neither too old nor too young. It was a mystery.
Perhaps she was just one of those people who was painfully shy around strangers. Lady Dia could certainly cure her of that, but she might not know that.
Asterleigh Manor wasn’t one of those walled edifices, but it was bounded by what must have once been a very handsome and imposing hedge that towered well over their heads but showed by its unkempt appearance that it certainly hadn’t been seen to in a good many years. The iron gates let into the hedge, hung from gateposts of stone, stood wide open, and it didn’t look to Abi as if they had been closed in decades. From the gates, it was a short distance indeed to the house, which was less like the sort of manor she was accustomed to see in Haven and more like a sprawling, enormous farmhouse. It was two stories tall, with an attic, made of gray stone with a thatched roof. The main entrance, a pair of substantial wooden doors, was in the very middle of the house. The doors opened as they were half way up the short driveway, and a single male waited for them to come to him.
The cavalcade of three wagons pulled up in front of the house, and now that they were practically on top of it, the decades of neglect were a bit more obvious. There was a great deal of “whitewash” dripping down the sides from the nests in the thatch overhead, and the thatch itself was old, gray with age, and left a litter of bits on the ground around the base of the walls. Wrenmarsh senior descended from his wagon as Rafi handed Abi out, Larral leaped out of the wagon bed on his own, Perry hopped down off the bench seat, and Rafi began handing down the packs to Perry.
“Well,” said the senior Wrenmarsh. “Here she be, as promised.”
The man looked Abi over, dubiously. He was dressed not unlike Wrenmarsh save that his smock was much mended, as were his moleskin trews, and his boots were more patch than whole leather. He peered at Abi from beneath a pair of bushy brown eyebrows, and his thick moustache wiggled as he considered the new guests. “I were ’spectin’ some’un older,” he said, echoing Wrenmarsh’s words. Given how his gaze flitted between her and Perry, she suspected he had also expected someone male.
“The King himself sent her, Tobin,” came a laughing, girlish voice from inside. “I should think the King knows his own business by now!”
“I be nawt so sure,” Tobin muttered, but he picked up half their packs, leaving Abi and Perry to pick up the rest and follow him.
And there the mystery of Sussena Asterleigh was solved, as just inside the door they were greeted by a very pretty, dark-haired girl sitting in a peculiar chair mounted on wheels. The two in the rear were very tall, the two in the front were smaller. She wore a very plain linen gown, which showed careful darning. The antechamber was small, all of the same stone as the exterior and unfurnished. “Hello!” she said cheerfully. “Forgive me for not greeting you at the door, will you? I’m Sussena.”
Wrenmarsh spoke up. “Milady, this young scamp be Peregrine, an’ the young leddy be Abidela. I’ll be lettin’ ’em speak fer thesselves.”
“I’m Perry, and my Gift is Animal Mindspeaking. I’m going to be using my Gift to see if the animals on your property have spotted the missing inheritance. This’s Larral; if we find it, he’ll guard it. M’sister Abi has a Gift that lets her see where all the stresses and strains are in buildings, so she’ll be looking for places hidden in all the walls.”
Sussena shook her head. “I fear you will find far too many of those stresses and strains to be of much use to you, Abidela. My beloved home is in very poor repair.”
“Call me Abi. And that might actually help, milady,” Abi countered.
Sussena looked doubtful, but said nothing. “At any rate, I hope you’ll forgive the state of things. As all the bedchambers come well equipped with winds whistling through the cracks in the shutters and cold running water every time it rains, we all live in the kitchen and old dining hall. And by ‘we,’ I mean just the five of us: Tobin, his son Hob, his wife Hansa, their daughter Lori, and I.”
Abi wasn’t sure how to react to this statement, but Perry just nodded and spoke for both of them. “As long as you aren’t expectin’ me t’share a bed with anyone but Larral, that’ll be good enough, milady.”
“How we’re bein’ t’feed t’at gurt monster, much less two more mout’s . . .” Tobin muttered, looking at Larral. Sussena blushed crimson.
“If you have wild rabbits about, Larral can feed himself,” Perry said pointedly. “And we paid Master Wrenmarsh to bring the extra food you’ll need for all of us even if you don’t have enough rabbits. We thought this out carefully. We’re here to try to solve your problem, milady, not add to it.”
Now Sussena was a brilliant scarlet, and she looked absolutely mortified. She looked as if she would have liked to have apologized for Tobin, but really, he had been looking out for her interests. Abi felt a great surge of sympathy for the girl. This couldn’t be easy for her. Whether or not she herself had known better times within these walls, she was certainly conscious of how low her family had sunk.
“Lets get you settled, at least,” she managed, finally.
“An’ I’ll be takin’ m’leave, milady,” Wrenmarsh said. “Rafi’ll be here with extra provender in a candlemark or twain. Niver ye fret, m’lady. Wutever ye c’n think of, we’ll ’ave taken care of.”
Before Sussena could answer—and she looked to Abi as if she would very much have liked to have refused the extra food but knew her slender means would not stretch to feeding two more souls without that help—Wrenmarsh turned and left, and the sound of the wagons moving off came through the still open door until Tobin closed it firmly. The girl flushed again but turned her chair and began rolling it toward an open archway at the rear of the entryway, using her hands to push the bigger wheels forward. Tobin carried the packs behind her, leaving Abi and Perry to bring up the rear.
The room they entered had a huge fireplace in the rear wall, one that obviously shared a hearth on the other side with the kitchen. While the other three walls were ancient, dark wood, the wall with the fireplace in it was mostly stone that matched the exterior. Obviously there were ovens built into it on the other side, and it had been made to keep a much bigger household than this one fed. Tobin dropped the packs unceremoniously down beside a pair of cots beside the hearth. “Bath’s bucket i’ kitchen,” he said gruffly. “Outhouse be outside. None o’yer Palacey folderol ’ere.”
“Tobin!” Sussena finally exclaimed, exasperated. “They’re here to help1 Stop treating them like . . . like a nest of mice!”
“Mice ’ud be more use,” he muttered, and he stalked out through a passageway on the right of the hearth into the kitchen.
Sussena now flushed with utter mortification. “He’s taken care of me all my life,” she explained, unable to look at either of them. “So he thinks he has—never mind.”
Abi dropped her packs beside the others and went to pat Susenna’s hand. “Never mind, we understand,” she said. “And it’s not as if we’re here as guests, anyway. We’re here to do a job.”
“Do you have any old stories that would tell you where to start looking?” Perry asked. “This is a pretty big house, and I noticed there are several outbuildings too.”
Sussena sighed. “Nothing,” she replied. “If there ever had been, they were forgotten years ago. The lost fortune was such a sore spot with my grandfather that he refused to
speak of it at all.”
Perry and Abi exchanged a look of resignation. “All right, then,” Abi sighed. “Let’s start with the dairy.”
They passed through the kitchen, where Hansa was bent over a pot of soup, and went straight out the open door into the kitchen yard. A half-hearted attempt to clean the yard of weeds had resulted mostly in keeping them to no more than ankle height. Hens clucked and pecked contentedly as they passed across to the building that was obviously the dairy.
Like the main house, the dairy had been built of good, stout stone, with a thatched roof. Unlike the main house, the roof had been allowed to go completely to pieces, so that entire sections of the thatch were missing, exposing the rafters, which now were likely compromised. “Damned shame,” Perry said, as they surveyed the interior. Abi nodded. In order to keep the dairy cool in summer the walls had been built triply thick; the floor was smooth slate, the countertops where pans of milk would sit for the cream to rise, and where butter would be worked, were built of polished granite. Even the racks for storing cheese as it ripened had been made well. Now those racks were piles of sticks, and it was obvious from the gaps where racks no longer stood that those sticks were being taken to use as kindling on a regular basis. Obviously no one had any hope that the dairy would ever serve its old function again.
“Still, look at those walls,” Abi continued. “Plenty of room to hide a fortune in them.”
She closed her eyes, and waited for her Gift to start working.
The last two days she had been practicing on the Palace and the buildings around it, realizing that although there were no hidden places within their walls, there were things like hidden places: ornamental niches, fireplaces, even serving hatches. These were all things built into walls that had similar characteristics as voids. And it turned out that if she “looked” deeper than the surface—and she could—she was able to see the stress forces flowing around those areas. Perry had helped her test this by taking her into a room blindfolded and challenging her to find such places.
Eye Spy Page 14
