The Lady Astronomer (17 page)

The king advanced, shouting and pointing
his finger.

“What say you Ms. H for this heinous transgression?
What say you? What what?”

“Sire, do you know for sure that Orion
hurt Empress?”

“How dare you!” He roared. Much
to Lucretia’s surprise, Rapier, Lady K, and Mr. E stepped forward.

“We can be your eyes, Sire. We were
there when the awful incident occurred.”

Lucretia took a step back toward them,
smiling. They would help her clear this mess up.

“Why do you smile? We saw your owl
attack the cat.” Mr. E was more serious than she had ever seen him.

“What’s more,” continued Rapier, “we
can no longer countenance helping you to curry favour with the king.”

“You are lying,” whispered
Lucretia. Her eyes filled with tears as the king watched, his face becoming
more thunderous by the second.

“She,” remarked Lady K, “stole
my necklace, after I offered my friendship.”

“You are lying! You lent me that to
wear! Why are you doing this?” Lucretia made a move to Lady K.

“Stop! Guards! Search Ms. H’s room.
Lady K, give them a description of your necklace. Pray that it is not there,
Ms. H, or you are facing a very difficult time with such a serious double
crime.”

Lucretia stood where she was, frightened by
the king. The time seemed interminable and she thought that she might faint.
She was hurt, so hurt, she felt the cold claws of betrayal scratch at her heart
and she shivered uncontrollably. Orion set to crying, and her aching heart
broke.

She looked away from the owl when the
guards returned from their search and looked at the ground.

“There! I told you she had taken my
necklace.” Lady K was gleeful.

“Guard her! The owl will stay here
until I decide what to do with him. Loosen his bonds so he’s not hurt. That is
not how we do things here. Get my physicians, I feel rather faint.” The king
ran his hand across his brow.

Lucretia was so blinded by tears that she
did not see where she was being dragged to. She saw faces only as a blur and
heard, as if from a great distance, someone shout out that the king had fainted.
Orion called out in distress, and someone else laughed as the owl was hurt again.

“Don’t hurt him!” She clawed at
her captors. “Wodehouse, help him!” Something hit the back of her
head hard, and she knew no more.

In Which A Deep Fear Is Recognised
The Unwanted
Visitors
Lucretia, My Reflection
A Sad Day
A Knight In Shining Armour

The next time Lucretia awoke, it was dark.
She sat up and saw a tiny barred window which let just a little light in. The moon
was waning, but was still luminous enough to illuminate and illustrate her
sorry predicament.

Her eyes adjusted to the dankness, bringing
the slimy granite walls into focus. Lucretia lifted herself from the floor, her
head throbbing. There was a pile of dirty straw in the corner of the room, and
a bucket.

A set of black bars with an enormous
padlock took up much of another wall. The reality of her imprisonment hit her
with such force that she collapsed onto the straw and wailed. Another wail
answered her, and she felt terror, pure terror. Her hands shook and her vision
wavered as her head took up the shuddering that gripped her entire self.
Lucretia tried to breathe, but could only succeed in getting out tiny gasps.
The lack of air she was taking into her lungs made black, swimming shapes bloom
across her vision.

She covered her face in her hands and wept.
Her head hurt from getting knocked out, and she felt it outside and inside,
discovering a tooth so loosened that it came away when she poked it with her tongue.
She spat it into her hand and let it fall to the floor, tasting a coppery
staleness in her mouth.

Lucretia lifted her head and her cheeks
burned in shame. The taunts of those who pretended to be her friends rang in
her memory.

Her illnesses had made her an easy target
for other children, and how cruel they were about her height and her
pockmarked face.

Cruel children grow into cruel adults, and
she had once again been made a fool of. In a too-large dress that had to be
held up with a belt. She could have cried again at how ridiculous she must have
looked to others, a little girl dressing up in her mother’s clothes.

Cruel children though only have the power
of words and objects thrown to hurt at their disposal. Adults have tangible
power, and Lucretia wondered exactly what she had done to incur the wrath of
Lady K, Mr. E, and Rapier.

She wished she were not alone in her cell,
she really needed to talk and to be held and comforted. She wailed and then wept
brokenly, in a raw rasping that hurt her throat and made her face throb. She
had no right to be feeling so sorry for herself when she knew that Orion was in
most desperate need.

Lucretia knew the cruelty of the people
with him. He would be terrified and in pain, for though he was a predator, she
had raised him from an owlet and due to his closeness with her, he would assume
that other humans were like her. He had never known otherwise, living with her
and Freddie and Al.

How cruel she had been to take a baby and
raise him as her own. What right had she to treat him like her own child and
then bring him to a place where people only had an interest in self-gain and
his life could be thrown away as easily as an unwanted piece of fruit? Where
the same people would think nothing of using him in a dreadful game, and stop
at nothing, even hitting and hurting him.

Her distress did not allow her to remember
that he would not be accepted again if he did return to the wild, and that is
why he stayed. It did not allow her to think that the owl had a bond with a
human, her.

“Orion!”

She rested her head on her folded arms,
feeling the damp straw beneath her, and closed her eyes, face aching.

The only sounds were far off snuffles of
other prisoners. The smells were much worse and her eyes opened in terror at
what might be in the cell with her. She stood, quickly, blood rushing from her
head, and she thought she might faint again.

Something scuttled past her boot and she
screamed, lifting one foot high and then another, screaming again and again
until the incarcerated soul in the cell nearest to her shouted out to her to be
quiet.

She kept screaming until her voice gave out.
When that was done she stood shivering in the cell, wild eyed and frantic. Her
head whipped from side to side and she moaned, utterly terrified.

Lucretia looked from the window to the
door, again and again, and finally realised that she would have to be cannier
about it. With a trembling hand, she adjusted her monoscope to its highest
focus and the window was suddenly much larger, the light brighter. Her
breathing returned to normal.

She slowly moved her head, as though
scanning the skies, and could see nothing.

Her legs felt like they were going to give
way, so she upended the bucket, which was empty for now until she felt the
need, and sat on it, up from the ground.

She leant back against the greasy wall and
closed her eyes, arms crossed over her chest for warmth.

Lucretia started to doze off, and was
dreaming of Leibniz, of stroking his fur. It felt so real that she was
comforted and she smiled.

She opened her eyes dozily to smile at the
lemur and retched as she saw a large, glossy black rat on her lap. Carrier of
her disease. Carrier of fleas. She opened her mouth and screamed hoarsely until
she tasted her own blood.

*

Fleas. She was terrified of fleas.

Lucretia paced her cell, brushing her dress
and gulping often. Her throat was drier than a desert and burned like she’d
swallowed flames.

The rat watched her from a corner and she
was afraid to turn away from it, though it seemed content enough to wash its
face with its paws. Its tail was long and pink and Lucretia marvelled at it,
overcome with horror. She put her hand to her face and quickly took it away
again, remembering she had stroked the creature with it. The bile rose again,
though goodness knows how long it was since she had eaten.

Lucretia stood with her back to the window.
As the cell slowly lightened against the rising daylight, she realised she’d
been given one of the better cells. Other poor souls, further down, would have
danker, darker accommodation. Their only light came from smoky torches that
guards brought on their rounds.

Lighter and lighter, and she saw her cell
for what it truly was. Cold and barren to be sure, but not half as frightening.
The rat bolted up the wall and out the window.

It brushed Lucretia on its way past and she
didn’t even react, so quick was the rodent’s departure.

She let out a shaky breath, feeling, even
in the midst of filth and despair, calmer now that the rat had gone.

A guard arrived with a plate of slop that
she did not touch, and some stale water, which she took small sips from. It
would only be a matter of time before she had to use the bucket. The
humiliation didn’t bother her so much, but the possibility of sitting on the
ground next to the rat did.

She was grateful for the ability to chart
the progress of the day through the window.

“There she is! The thief.” Lady K
and Mr. E stood outside the cell, perfumed handkerchiefs held to their noses.

“Orion,” she whispered, “please.”

“Oh, dear. Why should we tell you?
Hmm?”

“Now dear, let us not be cruel. Look
at poor Ms. H, down on her luck. Oh, boo hoo, what a pity.” Mr. E dried
imaginary tears from his eyes and Lucretia looked on dispassionately.

“Why?” Lucretia could do no more
than croak.

“Speak up, I can’t hear you,”
ordered Lady K, imperiously.

“Why did you befriend me and then turn
on me,” Lucretia tried to speak properly, loudly, but could not.

“We never befriended you, silly girl, oh,
no. But when a newcomer who is rumoured to be quite high in the king’s estimation
appears, well it becomes a touch threatening you know.

“You may ask why we have come to visit
and are speaking quite so freely with you? It is because you will never be released,”
hissed Lady K, and Mr. E pulled her back.

“You are distraught, my dear,” he
said, “that you were duped into befriending a thief who stole a necklace
that was dear to your heart and so stole your trust in human-kind, remember?”

“Mr. E, of course I do. Now you are a
true friend. Not like miss here, no no. Did she really think that the likes of
us would be friends with her? I know she is from the sticks, but really! Lower
your sights, dear. For you are not worthy. Your sights, hee hee, what a
marvellous joke.” Lady K pushed her face right up against the bars and
snarled.

“By the way, we are to tell you that
your contraption is to be taken. It is a luxury.”

“But I cannot see properly without it.”
Lucretia was aghast.

“Luxury,” sniffed Mr. E, “is
not allowed while incarcerated. We brought it to the attention of the king, and
he agreed. A guard shall be along to take it from you.”

“Mr. E, dearest, the smell down here
is so appalling that I feel quite ill. Shall we take tea?”

“A capital suggestion, my dear.”

They turned to leave Lucretia, standing
ashen and mute in the middle of her cell.

“Before I forget, Ms. H, we have a
gift for you. Mr. E here, happened to hear that you have a particular liking for
these.” Lady K threw a handful of clockwork fleas onto the floor of the
cell where they made minute scrabbling noises.

Lucretia jumped onto the bucket and they
followed her. Her wail was no louder than a whisper.

“What’s that? You seem to have lost
your voice. You don’t like them? Oh, Mr. E, how could you have been quite so
mistaken? My dear, that is most unlike you.”

“Oopsie! I was sure I heard Ms. H here
tell the princesses that she loved fleas, so tiny, so brutal.”

Their laughter was cut short as a guard
arrived and opened the door to Lucretia’s cell.

“Well, toodle-pips then dear, chin up!”
Lady K waved imperiously as they made their way back to the more civilised part
of the castle.

“Sorry Miss, was told to take this.”
The guard, though completely unknown to Lucretia, was far more taken aback by her
sorry appearance.

She bent her head and allowed him to take
the monoscope, not putting up much of a fight as she heard the fleas crunch
under his feet, some scuttling away through the door, though some would surely
remain.

*

That night, Lucretia stood again, back to
the window. The moon offered just enough light to see, though she was
half-blind now. Light enough to see the rat once again in residence, with the
tiny clockwork fleas sitting on its back, glinting, sucking with metal
mandibles.