Authors: K. Jewell
'What's his name?' asked Rufus, taking large strides over to the food.
'Yews, isn't it Maud
?'
'I think so dear, Henry Yews. Although we always call him
Sir
of course. We told him you were new here and might like a nice young man to take you on a tour of the sights.'
'We?' asked Maud
loudly, delicately pouring out tea. 'I believe that you took it upon yourself to make that suggestion.'
'Anyway, he said that if you would like a companion to show you aro
und he'd be very happy to.' Effi
winked at Elli and delicately dabbed at her mouth with a napkin,
smearing tomato juice further into the hair surrounding it. 'He gave us a card to give to you should you wish to take him up on his offer.' Elli felt the heat in her cheeks and avoided looking at Rufus. 'Now where did I put it?' she continued, rummaging around in the drawers underneath the desk.
'It's here,' said Maud
, opening the drawer below her. Rufus jumped up from his seat and made his way over d
eftly, taking the card from her
.
'His own business card,' he said, holding it between two fingers as though it was a fragile object. 'How impressive. But she's already got another admi
rer, haven't you Elli?' he said
, walking back to his seat and throwing half a sandwich into the air before gulping it down. The clip around his ear came without w
arning, and he looked up as Maud
stared at him, her great-dane
head absolutely still.
'Manners,' she growled quietly.
Effi
shook her head so that an assortment of
crumbs fell to the floor. 'Two
admirers? Now tell us all about it.'
'Well I would,' replied Elli, 'it's just that I haven't the faintest idea what he's talking about.'
Rufus
coughed,
a cough that sounded very like the word '
Whaler,' and carried on eating.
'Max asked us to collect something,' she finally spluttered, pleased to change the su
bject. Maud
wiped her hands together and dabbed her napkin around her muzzle before speaking.
'Max gave us a very special commission, top secret he said, and it's finally finished. I have to be honest, we're really very p
roud of our work, aren't we Effi
?'
she asked, as Effi
nodded in agreement.
'Best
thing we've ever done,' she answered
, her eyes glistening deep within her tightly-curled hair. 'You just wait till you see it!'
Rufus and Elli sat in the carriage on the way home rocking to the movements of the horses pulling them along. Rufus made a close approximation of whistling a jaunty tune for most of the journe
y, whilst Elli stared out of a
window streaked with greasy marks. At their feet
sat
two large bags made of hea
vy green fabric
.
'I didn't know they had it in them,' said Rufus finally, looking down at the bags and smiling wolfishly. 'They're even more skilful than I thought.'
'I don't wish to discuss it,' Elli said very deliberately, still staring out of the window. She sat upright in her seat, her foot occasionally kicking the bag.
'If you ask me it's an improvement, I've never seen you look so good,' he said, grinning so widely now that all of his back-teeth were making a rare appearance. She looked across at him mustering the sternest look she could, her eyes narrowing.
'Funny,' she said archly, both eyebrows
raised
. Rufus sank into his seat and resumed his whistling, his feet resting on the threadbare seat opposite him.
'That's Max for you, always one step ahead. You've got to hand it to him.' Elli steadfastly ignored him, wiping the window to get a better view but succeeding only in smearing the dirt over a larger surface area.
They passed tall teetering buildings leaning in towards one another, and she marvelled at how so little light filtered down into the noisy, dusty streets. Young children scampered around horses, carts and stalls, and they soon reached an outdoor market where Rufus held his nose and looked away to avoid temptation. The shining produce and delicious fare changed into wider roads where the more affluent lived. Elli noted the cleaner houses and personal stables, where trees grew like miracles from the kerbsides. Rufus resumed his whistling and pulled down his window.
'I went out with a girl who lived around here once,' he said, fishing in his trouser pocket to produce an orange and
proceeding to peel it daintily
. 'Lovely girl but awful feet.
Max was delighted while it lasted of course, I found him doodling a coat of arms in preparation for the big day. Jennifer..or Juliet..or something like that, it began with a
J
anyway. Her father wasn't overly keen on me for some reason.' Elli raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. 'What?' he asked, fishing around in his pocket for another orange and flinging it at her.
'Anyway, her Father paid for a
round-the-
world
ticket in luxury accommodation for me on the proviso that I leave Jasmine or whatever her name was. Turns out she was more interesting than I gave her credit for; she found the ticket on his desk the next
morning and packed her bags. By the time he'd realised what had happened she'd gone. She wrote me a very nice note about finding herself or something. She found a bit more than that, settled down in Aldostria with a herdsman, and good luck to her,' he said, flicking the peel out of the window. 'Lucky escape I call it.'
'So are you ever going to meet Miss Right then Rufus?' she asked mischievously. He grinned and tapped the side of his nose.
'Who's to say I haven't already?' he asked, licking his fingers and wiping his muzzle with the back of his hand.
'Lucky lady,' replied Elli under her breath. 'Oh and by the way, I've worked out where our protectors are now,' she added with a satisfied smile. 'It's the two out there isn't it, driving the coach.'
'There are three actually.'
'Oh, well then one's clinging onto the back or something.'
'Not quite, there are
two up there for one thing,' said Rufus, pointing to the ceiling of the coach.
'Up there?' asked Elli
,
staring wide-eyed at the roof of the carriage. 'But how small
are they?' Rufus sighed and shook
his head.
'Did that bump on the head do more damage than I thought? Look up out of your window and wait, you'll be lucky if you get a glimpse,' he muttered, yawning and closing his eyes. Elli poked her head out of the window and looked up at the heavy clouds. She saw nothing unusual for some time and was about to give up when she caught a flash of white searing through the sky, its magnificent wings outstretched. She pulled up the window and turned back to Rufus.
'Was that Barry on the Ethiopian Pegasus?' she asked, still astounded by the sight of the majestic white horse with huge outstretched wings. He nodded, his eyes still closed. 'So who's the other one?' She looked across at Rufus who was sound asleep with his large pink tongue hanging untidily out of the corner of his mouth, his breathing deep and regular. She watched again but saw nothing else of interest in the sky, and was soon dozing opposite Rufus on the way home.
Lord
Lansdown
yawned and stretched out his arms, his fingers fully extended. He sat back on his chair, placing his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes and rubbing them gently. Around him open notebooks and letters lay discarded; he sat like this for some time, mulling things over. They'd been chasi
ng the girl for weeks now, but
different sightings and conflicting information was arriving every day. According to these letters she was in at least eighteen different places spread out over many miles; he was beginning to wonder whether the large rewards he'd offered had not been perhaps a little
hasty, as it would seem that some people would do anything for money.
He sniffed sadly, picking up the one nearest to him with his nails (
who knew what you could catch from the cheapest paper, written in the poorest hand?
) and read it silently, before slowly
scrunching it up into a ball and flinging it across the r
oom. Yet another waste of time.
What did these people think he was? They obviously had no idea who they were trying to fool.
In a fit of anger he stomped across the room, his footsteps smashing down onto the floorboards and picked up the crumpled ball, smoothing it out and adding it back to the pile. When he was King he might well send some of his men to pay them a little visit, make them sorry for wasting his time. They'd all enclosed their details for payment of the reward money after all. All
except
one.
He sorted through them until he found the letter in question, written in a careful hand in green ink. This one was different, and gave him some details he'd be able to verify easily. Brayston. He'd heard of it dimly in his youth, but it had been beyond his travels and there had been little to recommend it. All manner of creatures living together within the walls, interacting as though there was no difference between them. He shuddered, picturing his men marching towards the walls with him as King, blasting the doors apart in his full livery as they all quaked in his mighty presence.
The sound of a rattling, syrupy cough drifted in from the next room;
I haven't seen her with me in my glorious future. Imagine that.
He heard a knocking at his door and froze, quite prepared to hide in the wardrobe if his wife's voice had accompanied the knocking. 'Sir,' called out an old male voice, the youth grated away until a heavy rasping remained.
'Come in,' he bellowed, placing the letters and notebooks into a neat pile once more. The door creaked open and an old man stood there with a nonchalant expression. Lord Lansdown looked up and stared at him, taking in the tired eyes and the slouch. He spoke slowly and very deliberately, his voice dripping with distaste.
'Who on earth are you?' The man shuffled and looked around the room, absorbing the dark wood and glittering things in there.
'Beg your pardon Sir,' he said, his head bowed very slightly more from an aching back than deference, 'I'm new. Your new man-servant.' He smiled revealing pink gums and a flurry of wrinkles, his eyes pale and watery.
A geriatric man-servant for a future King? I hardly think so.
'
And who gave you that position?' Lord Lansdown asked the man, staring at him intently. 'I don't have much of a sense of humour you see.' He waited for a response but the old man stood motionless for some time.
'What?' the man finally asked loudly, cupping his hand to his ear.
'Who-gave-you-the role?' he bellowed, his face contorted into ever wider grimaces as he tried to enunciate every sound.
'Oh, my nephew.
Captain Briggs. Said you could use a good fellow like me, and the pay's good.' He fished out a large crumpled handkerchief from his top pocket and blew his nose loudly, much to Lord Lansdown's evident distaste. 'Course, I said I may be too old for this kind of thing at present, but he insisted I was the man for the job. Mint?' he asked, deftly replacing the handkerchief and its contents back into his pocket and taking out a crumpled paper bag instead.
Lord
Lansdown
shook his head willing the man to disappear. The last thing he could afford to do was to upset Captain Briggs, a powerful presence for the men who followed his every word and who would undoubtedly lead him to victory.
Without him they were a rabble; now he's mo
u
lding them into an army. But why this?
The old man sucked noisily at his mint, rolling it around his mouth with a series of slurping noises and faces that reminded Lord Lansdown of gargoyles clinging to long-forgotten towers.
'I take it you have...references,' he spluttered, his fingers stroking his neatly clipped beard as he pondered. A red flush had appeared on his neck over the tightly-buttoned tunic, contrasting with the magnificent white of the material.
'Nope,' said the man cheerily, the mint still rattling against his gums and rolling around in the cavernous pink mouth. 'Never needed to. Where do you want me to start then Sir?' he asked, looking around at the magnificent room that Lord Lansdown had so recently procured in his usual way. Gilded mirrors hung heavy on the walls, and tapestries and paintings stood haphazardly as though competing for space.
Lord
Lansdown
walked to the nearest window and looked out at the men undergoing training practice below him, a flurry of activity that was highly ordered with Captain Briggs at the forefront, barking out orders that were willingly obeyed.
That man commands respect, the men would do anything for him. For me
, he thought, eyes twinkling.
It's plain I can't do without him
at this current time. Instilling
fear, however enjoyable, won't encourage loyalty. And I do so want them to be loyal.
He clasped his hands behind his back and watched the intricate ballet of sword-practice, fatigued marching and the following of every command, the beginning of a smile on his lips.