A Tale of Two Castles (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

O
nce begun, I poured well enough. Better than well enough, since the king paid no attention to me. While pouring, I observed for my masteress—and fretted for myself about my coming mansioning.

The guests and their children numbered sixty-eight, and I saw twine jewelry on twenty-four of the adults. I counted eighteen cats, but more may have been out of sight under the table.

The princess alone seemed in a festive mood. The hall was chilly, too vast to be warmed even by the three roaring fires, yet she threw off her cloak, revealing a scarlet kirtle. She talked ceaselessly, emphasizing ideas with grand gestures. Little food passed between her lips, but she shared tidbits from her bowl with everyone on the dais, sending her jeweled knife from hand to hand to the ends of the table.

Her father proffered treats to his neighbors, but he scowled when his morsels were accepted, and everyone soon learned to decline his offerings.

The count's manners seemed perfect to this farm bumpkin. He shared generously and accepted tidbits with good grace. I observed that he and Sir Misyur curled their fingers around their spoons in exactly the same fashion. The steward had taught his master well.

Except for Her Highness, such a quiet feast this was! Even the children behaved with decorum.

Courses surged out of the kitchen. I had eaten nothing since dawn and was hungry when the meal began, but the glut of food exhausted my stomach through my eyes.

Or worry replaced appetite: worry for His Lordship, worry over my approaching performance.

According to Albin, at a banquet every round of three courses, called a
remove
, was followed by an entertainment. According to Master Jak, my turn would come at the end of the second remove. After the first a minstrel sang, accompanying herself on the lute. I guessed her to be one of Master Sulow's mansioners. She warbled in a voice as soft as chamois, and even the princess quieted to hear.

The song began with a knight setting forth,

Giant
, she sang, but I suspected she meant
ogre
. From my vantage point behind and to the side, I saw His Lordship's cheeks become mottled red and white. Princess Renn's hand patted his shoulder, but I doubted he was aware of her.

The knight killed seven giants in as many verses. This was the refrain:

When she finished, the applause, muted at first, gained strength. The guests at the lower table rose to show their appreciation—and their dislike, perhaps hatred, of their host. I was astonished at their boldness.

Goodman Twah and Goodwife Celeste both clapped enthusiastically, although they lived elsewhere. What reason did they have to despise His Lordship?

He clapped without enthusiasm, ignoring the insult. The minstrel curtsied and ran into the inner ward.

Princess Renn raised a bit of bread to Count Jonty Um's lips. “I like songs better when no one is slain.”

He chewed, his face still blotchy red.

Master Sulow had certainly chosen the ballad. Why?

Three menservants emerged from behind the kitchen screen carrying the feast masterpiece: a roasted peacock. I
had heard of this delicacy but never seen it, and wished I weren't seeing it now. It would have looked like any other cooked bird—if it hadn't still had its beak, and if its beautiful plumage hadn't been stabbed, feather by feather, into its crispy back.

“Jonty Um,” Greedy Grenny said, “twenty-five dishes thus far, four with saffron.”

“I hope Your Majesty enjoyed them,” His Lordship said.

“Yes, certainly. The point is, I served only three saffron dishes when the king of Belj visited.”

“Fie, Father!” The princess laughed. “Mayn't Jonty Um be more generous than you are?”

Greedy Grenny laughed, too. “He may. I prefer saffron in my belly to saffron in the belly of the king of Belj.” He wiped his hands and his face on the tablecloth and stood.

The guests quieted. Servants paused in their serving.

“Loyal subjects, tonight is more than a feast of friends. Tonight will be remembered forever in the history of Lepai. My daughter—”

“La!” The princess tossed her head. Below her cap, her yellow hair flew about.

“Princess Renn has confessed to me her affection for my subject Jonty Um, the wealthiest man, er, the wealthiest
being
in Lepai, after the crown.”

If silence could hush, this silence did, as though the world's winds had stilled and all creatures ceased moving.

“Even a king cannot ignore the feelings of his only child.”

But she'd told me he arranged the betrothal. What a liar he was!

“I have approved their union. Dear subjects, think how safe Lepai will be with His Lordship defending us. Think how strong we will be with His Lordship leading our attacks. My daughter and His Lordship will wed, and, in due time”—he chuckled—“but not very soon, I hope, Count Jonty Um will succeed to the throne.”

Princess Renn threw her arms around the king's neck and kissed his cheek. He looked pleased with himself. Why not? A happy daughter and greater riches.

I discovered I was happy, too. This ogre would be a better ruler than either the king or his daughter. King Grenville had no kindness and the princess was too flighty. Count Jonty Um's character combined steadiness and compassion.

She spun in her chair to her betrothed. Rising halfway, she kissed him on his cheek. “La! It is lucky you are tall.”

His arm went around her. It was an awkward gesture, but his smile was certainly glad.

Mmm . . . I thought, wishing I could tell if he loved her. I liked the princess and didn't want her in a marriage without affection. Whatever he felt, however, he would be good to her. Perhaps that was enough.

Sir Misyur cried, “Hurrah!”

The cheer was taken up with gusto by the servants, listlessly by the guests. When the voices died away, Sir Misyur said, “My lord, tell them the sort of king you'll be!”

Count Jonty Um stood.

He should have remained seated, I thought. His shadow crossed the dais and darkened a few feet of the lower guest table.

“My friends . . .” He sounded husky. “My friends . . .”

I looked around the hall. Master Thiel and his brothers raised their knives and ate again. The brothers' wives did the same. Goodwife Celeste turned the twine around her wrist and whispered into her goodman's ear.

“Your Highness . . .” His Lordship paused, consulting the ceiling not far above him, as if words might be written there. He swayed, but steadied himself with his hands flat on the table. “Thank you. My friends . . .”

Princess Renn said, “Jonty Um, tell them not to worry.” She faced the guests below her. “He'll be a good king. La! When he's been king a week, you'll forget he's an ogre.”

His flushed face deepened to scarlet. People stopped chewing. Knives and spoons halted in the air.

Let them think about something besides the princess's foolish words. I threw my wine bottle to the floor, hard, so it would certainly break. Purple sloshed on my kirtle.

The crash broke the spell. After a moment of surprise, conversation resumed. His Lordship sat without delivering a speech.

Cellarer Bwat rushed to me with a length of linen and began to mop up the wine and broken glass. I bent to help.

The king twisted in his golden chair. “Did the girl splash me?”

Cellarer Bwat examined King Grenville's cloak hem, where I saw stains as big as my hand. “Not a drop, Your Highness.”

Greedy Grenny returned to his gluttony. “Of course I wouldn't have minded being splashed. I never object to anything.”

Cellarer Bwat whispered, “Excellent, Elodie. Well done.”

I thought this was sarcasm until he patted my hand.

A servant carved the peacock while the second wave of courses issued from the kitchen. Soon I would be called upon to perform. The tale of Princess Rosette seemed too complicated now. But what to do instead? Possibilities ran through my mind, none of them right: too long, too sad, tedious.

As I poured water for the princess, Master Thiel's brother Frair choked. His wife slapped him roundly on the back. He spit out a morsel of food.

And I knew what to mansion: a scene from
Toads and Diamonds
. The tale had no dogs or thieves and not much of a betrothal, so it was little like the present circumstance, but I knew it well enough to perform unrehearsed.

I was still frightened. How mad to debut before a king! And Master Sulow would probably be watching, too. My hands were so slick with sweat, I feared I would drop a pitcher or wine bottle. Yet my feet were numb with cold.

Two boys and a girl of my approximate age began to set up scenery against the wall beyond the end of the long table. They put out a tidy lady's chair, an enormous chair, four pillows.

I deduced the three were Master Sulow's new apprentices. They seemed unremarkable—no flourishes as they set the pillows on the chairs and brought in three large wooden pots planted with rosebushes. Not so much as a glance at the audience. If they were portraying Little Masters Humdrum and Little Mistress Humdrum, they could hardly have done better.

But maybe Master Sulow had instructed them to mansion these vacant characters. The true selves of the apprentices might be much different; they could be mansioning prodigies.

Perhaps they would gladly change places with me if they knew—charged with protecting an ogre, deducing and inducing for a dragon, soon to mansion for an entire court.

The roses they'd brought out could mean only
Beauty and the Beast
. The minstrel had sung about a giant; the mansioners were going to enact the story of a monstrous beast.

What would happen if Count Jonty Um's forbearance snapped?

Nesspa lifted a paw onto his master's knee. I knew what the gesture meant, and so did His Lordship, who stood. If he left, I would have to accompany him.

“Jonty Um, don't go. Can't you send someone?
Eh
lodie?” The princess turned my way. “You don't mind?”

His Lordship looked at me uncertainly.

I couldn't go. My masteress said I mustn't let him out of my sight. Yet how could I refuse?

“La! I forgot!
Eh
lodie is going to entertain us, but you mustn't leave either, Jonty Um. Your guests will be offended, and you want to see
Eh
lodie.”

Sir Misyur beckoned a manservant, who hurried to the dais. Thank you, Princess!

Count Jonty Um mussed the fur on Nesspa's head and told the servant, “Don't let his chain go.” He bent over and put his face close to Nesspa's. “Come back to me.”

Tail wagging, Nesspa accompanied the servant out of the hall. Other servants took away empty dishes and platters.

Sir Misyur nodded to me.

I am a mansioner, I thought.
Toads and Diamonds
. Two sisters, one cruel and ugly, one kind and pretty. I am one. I am the other.

I left the dais and stood in front of Master Sulow's scenery. Be with me, Albin, I prayed. Let His Lordship not regret his kindness.

On shaky legs I curtsied first to the king and then to everyone else. Forgetting to keep the count in sight, I turned my back. Ah. A rose would help me begin. I placed myself so everyone could see me snap one off and pop it in my mouth. Pui! It tasted bitter. I faced forward.

Princess Renn understood instantly and ruined the surprise for everyone else. “Look, Jonty Um! The flower will fall out when she speaks.”

But His Lordship's eyes were on the door Nesspa had left by.

Portraying the kind, pretty sister, I fluttered my eyelashes. In a honeyed voice I said, “Dear . . .” I made an O with my mouth, revealing the rose on my tongue.

Light laughter rippled through the hall. I removed the rose, dug a shallow hole in the floor, and planted it, as if the flower, though lacking roots and most of its stem, might grow again.

The laughter deepened. As I stood, I checked His Lordship, who still gazed at the door. Master Thiel laughed. Goodwife Celeste nodded and laughed.

I leaped sideways, turned my cap backward, and screwed my face into a grimace, transforming myself into the selfish sister. My mouth opened as wide as it could. I imagined a Lahnt moonsnake slithering out. Although I tried to say
sister
, my mouth couldn't close for the
s
or
t
. “Ih—” I placed my hands to catch the snake.

The king shouted, “Ha! She's funny.”

The laughter rose again. Then it trailed off, and the room fell silent.

A cat hissed. A dog barked. My eyes followed the bark to one of the fireplace dogs, who barked again, without rising from where it sat. I turned to the dais. Nesspa had not returned, and led by Pardine, every cat in the hall was stalking the ogre.

Chapter Twenty-Three

S
hoo, cats!” Princess Renn cried.

Master Thiel shouted, “Pardine! Come to me!”

Yelling and waving my arms, I ran at the cats, but they ignored me. I scooped up two. One squirmed free. The one I still held spit and tried to scratch.

His Lordship hugged himself, as if he were cold, or for protection. His face looked mottled again. His nostrils flared, and his eyes widened pleadingly.

The guests and servants were motionless, too shocked or fascinated to move.

The count's arms went up. I'd seen this before. His mouth opened wide, and he began to tremble.

Princess Renn shrieked. Pardine leaped onto the table and crouched, poised to pounce.

I rushed to the dais, tripping over a table leg and hurtling on. When I reached the ogre, I threw the cat I held to Sir Misyur. My arms grasped the ogre's quaking body but couldn't hang on. He was too big and shaking too hard.

“Stop, cats!” I shouted. “Stop, Your Lordship! Stop! Stop!”

The count's features coarsened. His hair grew and thickened. He bent over at the waist as his torso lengthened.

I backed away. Everyone did. I heard screams.

His shoulders broadened, first straining his tunic, then bursting it. I smelled musk. His gold chain snapped with a
ping
. The pendant thudded onto the floor.

The cats froze. Pardine yowled from his place on the table.

His Lordship's front legs—no longer arms!—overturned the tabletop. Bowls and glasses slid off and smashed when the wood came down on them. Guests on the dais jumped off. I jumped, too. The princess held her father's hand and pulled him away.

He shouted, “There's peacock left. Ogre, eat peacock!”

We all scattered to the walls, leaving a throng of cats motionless on the floor or on the tables below the dais. The dogs at the fireplaces kept their places, appearing unworried.

The lion snarled.

Nothing remained of His Lordship but the flush—the lion's cheek fur blushed a faint pink.

No one stirred, every one of us likely thinking the same question: If I run, will he chase?

I watched his eyes—polished black stones with nothing of the count in their gaze. He padded gracefully to the dais's edge and roared.

The sound echoed off the walls, grew, echoed, reverberated, until I thought the castle would tumble down. My eyes dropped from the lion's eyes to his fangs and back up to the eyes. The fangs were not to be looked at!

He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, I saw awareness in them. He choked off the roar, shook his head as if to clear it, and vibrated again.

But he didn't return to himself. He shrank.

I ran to him again and grabbed the loose skin on his back, but it melted away in my hands.

Pardine took both of us into his gaze. I felt the cat's longing:
Become a mouse. Become a mouse.

“Don't become a mouse!” I yelled as he continued to diminish. “Not a mouse! Bigger!”

Moments passed. He shrank more. And more.

On the floor, a brown mouse trembled next to the pendant. His whiskers twitched once. Then he streaked toward the kitchen, pursued by cats. People followed, Princess Renn and I in the lead.

I ran faster than she did, but the cats outstripped me. Crashes came from the kitchen. I entered in time to see Master Jak snatch a cat while the tail of the last chasing cat exited to the inner ward.

Count Jonty Um, let me reach you! I bounded across the kitchen. Don't be eaten!

“Wait for me!” Princess Renn cried.

I burst outside. In the inner ward, all was serene under the night sky.

“La! Alack! Oh, la!” the princess wailed. “He's gone!” She sank to the ground.

I crouched, facing her in the dim light, and blinked back tears.

“They'll eat him, my tall Jonty Um.”

“No. We'll find him.” But I imagined a cat's bloody teeth, His Lordship's anguish, the mouse's little kicking legs. I shuddered and repeated, “We'll find him.”

“Alack! Alack!” She wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked.

Master Thiel dashed out of the kitchen. He rushed to us and pulled me up. “It may not be too late.”

The princess stood, too. “Go to the barracks,
Eh
lodie. I'll try the gatehouse.”

Why the barracks? But I ran there anyway.

In the dark I saw the shapes of trestle beds mounded with their occupants' belongings. No movement. I left quickly and descended the stairs to the stables, a better destination. If the mouse led the cats here, they might startle a dozen ordinary mice and satisfy themselves.

A groom approached me. “What is it, young mistress?”

“Did His Lordship as a mouse . . . Did a multitude of cats . . .” They couldn't have. The scene was too peaceful. A stableboy with a mucking shovel entered a nearby stall. Another carrying a pail moved away from me down the line of stalls.

“No one's come in.” The groom's voice tightened. “He became a mouse?”

Master Dess stepped out of a horse stall.

“Master Dess!” He could do anything with animals. I blurted out what had happened.

He hunched down. “Honey, honey,” he sang close to the floor. “Come to Dess, honey.” Still bent over, he hurried toward the doors to the outer ward.

I returned to the inner ward, now crowded with guests and servants. Sir Misyur, holding Nesspa, was dividing the servants into groups to search the castle. Master Thiel joined the group on its way to the cellar under the kitchen. Other guests called their cats, but he didn't call Pardine.

Two cats came, both ambling out of the kitchen with a well-fed air. My stomach churned.

The princess descended the steps from the battlements. Maybe she thought His Lordship would go where Nesspa had been found, but I doubted a mouse could manage the stairs on its short legs.

Silly as she often was, she seemed a tragic figure now, taking each step slowly, dejectedly, one hand on the curtain stones to balance herself.

Sir Misyur patted Nesspa's head and let go of his chain. “Perhaps the dog will lead us to his master.”

But Nesspa just curled up at the steward's feet.

Some thought dogs clairvoyant. If his master were no more, mightn't he be howling?

An early star flickered in the eastern sky. Soon I would have to meet my masteress and confess my failure. Sir Misyur told me and two servants with oil lamps to search the barracks, so I returned there. We peered under every bed and poked every pile of belongings while my ears strained for a cry of discovery outside.

We left the barracks as the castle bells rang nine. A black shape winged ITs way toward the castle.