Tuesdays at the Castle (7 page)

Chapter

13

I
loved the Emissary’s expression so much,” Celie said with a sigh of pleasure.

It was nearly dawn, and she was lying on the rug under the table in the Spyglass Tower, holding her stomach. The feast had indeed been magnificent, and her tight gown had nearly split after four hours of eating. Cook’s attendants had brought out course after course, to great cheers and much admiration.

When peacocks, roasted and then bedecked with their tail feathers once again, had been brought out on gold platters, Rolf had risen to his feet, insisted that Cook be brought in, and then toasted her. She had blushed like a girl and twisted her hands in her apron. Rolf had promptly removed the feathers from the bird in front of him and given them to Cook, who curtsied and went back to the kitchen giggling. The feathers, Celie knew, were worth a gold mark each, and a very thoughtful reward for Cook’s hard work. Then she and Lilah had gone with Rolf and several guards to walk among the commoners on the green in front of the Castle, nodding and smiling and sharing a drink of cider here, an iced cake there.

From everyone came endless questions about the regency.

The siblings had known it would be this way, and had already prepared a careful answer: Rolf was very young, and they were all in shock over their parents’ and brother’s terrible fate. It was good of the Council to take this active stance.

And that was all they would say, no matter how they were pressed. Rolf had spent the last several days formulating the answer. He wanted to be polite, and take the high ground, as they had agreed. But he also wanted to imply that it was the Council’s decision, and he wanted to avoid saying that their parents and Bran were dead. It seemed to be working: the whispers and questions continued even after they heard Rolf’s answer, so that the siblings knew the people were still uneasy about the regency, and still questioning it.

“The Emissary’s expression?” Lilah yawned and plumped herself on one of the chairs with a lack of her customary grace.

“When Rolf said he’d known about the prince’s appointment for days,” Celie clarified. “The shock … you ruined the terrible surprise he had planned, Rolf!”

“Exactly!” Rolf laid the crown on the table and rubbed his forehead.

“That was my idea,” Lilah pointed out.

“Yes, and a capital one it turned out to be!” Rolf said with enthusiasm. “I wasn’t sure how to do it, but when he stepped forward and I saw that he was going to announce the regency right then and there, I decided to just plunge in. Seeing his shock was magnificent! He’ll be thinking there’s a spy on the Council, or a sympathizer at the very least. If we know about their moves before they make them, it will keep them off balance.”

“Wonderful,” Celie agreed happily.

“Yes, but while it was certainly a blow that Khelsh wasn’t a surprise,” Lilah said, “the trick is going to be keeping up with them. How will we know about their next moves? Will the Castle keep on showing us? Or Celie?”

“Of course it will,” Celie said fondly. She patted the floor at her side. “Won’t you, my only darling?” Celie was now thoroughly convinced that the Castle wasn’t just magic, but a living thing, and furthermore, that it was firmly on their side.

She thought she felt a quivering beneath her hand, as though the Castle were purring.

“What do you suppose the Castle is made of?” She felt her eyelids growing heavy. It had been a very long, exciting day, and now she wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for days.

“Stone,” Rolf answered. “What else would it be made of?” He reached over and flicked her shoulder. “I think it’s time for you to be in bed.”

Celie made a face at him. “I meant: What makes Castle Glower special? How does it do so many wonderful things? Is it alive? Was it built by a wizard?”

“People have been speculating about that for centuries,” Lilah said. “But nobody has ever found out.”

“I know all that … but I still wonder,” Celie said.

“If the Castle was ever going to tell anyone its secrets, I think it would be you,” Rolf said. He reached down and squeezed Celie’s ankle. “Now come along, sleepy. You’d better go to bed. It’s almost time for breakfast.”

“Oooh, don’t mention food,” Celie groaned. “I might be sick.”

“Pogue!” Lilah said.

“No, I’m Rolf,” Rolf said, giving her a baffled look.

“No, I mean it’s Pogue,” Lilah said, her voice high with excitement. She had one eye pressed to the spyglass she’d been fiddling with. “And he’s riding hard.”

Rolf crossed the room in two strides, and Celie scrambled up from the floor.

“Are you sure?” Rolf put one hand on the spyglass, and Lilah stepped back to let him look. “It is!” He looked over the top of the brass spyglass, squinting at the road beyond the Castle. “This spyglass can see a lot farther than any I’ve ever used before. He’s well beyond the village, even.”

Lilah gave him a disgusted look. “You just got finished telling Celie that the Castle is magic and mysterious, which we all knew, and now you’re impressed by a
spyglass
?” She nudged him aside and looked through it again.

“I want a look,” Celie said, and Lilah grudgingly moved aside for her.

It was Pogue, but he was indeed some distance away. His horse was only just coming into the valley, yet Celie could see him quite clearly through the spyglass. He was bent low over his horse’s neck and riding hard despite the dim, gray light. His horse’s hide was dark with sweat, and Pogue looked muddy and travel-stained.

“Do you think he has bad news?” Celie stepped back and let Lilah look again.

“I don’t know,” Lilah said, sounding worried.

“Well, we’ll know shortly,” Rolf said easily. “He’ll be here soon.” He paused, squinting again. “That is, if his horse makes it: the poor beast looked ready to drop.”

“Shall we ride out to meet him?” Celie gave her brother an eager look.

“By the time we had an escort, and everyone was mounted and ready to leave, he’d be at the gates,” Rolf said, shaking his head. “I’m going to pop down to my room and put some clean clothes on, splash a little water on my face, and get ready to meet him at the gates. Best if you girls do the same. I don’t think we’ll be getting to bed any time soon.”

They went down the stairs and changed into new clothes. For Celie that meant her black gown with the purple sash, which swished when she walked and made her feel quite grown-up, if a little depressed at having her first grown-up gown be one of mourning. She washed her face, and when Lilah was dressed she braided Celie’s hair and pinned the braid across her head like a crown. Arm in arm they went to the courtyard, where they met Rolf.

“Just in time,” he said, nodding at the main gate.

The guards were hailing someone, and after a moment they let a single horseman through. It was Pogue, on his sweating, tired horse. The animal trudged into the center of the courtyard and stopped. Legs braced wide, nostrils blowing hard, its head drooped and didn’t move again.

“Pogue! Are you all right?” Lilah ran to him, with Rolf and Celie right on her heels.

Pogue looked down at Lilah with bloodshot eyes. His face was streaked with sweat and dirt, and his hair was standing on end. For a moment, he appeared to be struggling to remember her name, and he swayed in the saddle a bit.

“Delilah?” He shook himself like a dog and cleared his throat. “Lilah! Rolf!” He dismounted, seeming to gather energy from some unknown source. “They’re alive!”

“What!” Lilah reeled backward, and Rolf caught her around the waist before she fell.

“Mummy and Daddy?” Celie ran to Pogue and grabbed hold of the front of his tunic. “You found Mummy and Daddy and Bran?”

“Not quite ‘found,’ but they’re alive for certain,” Pogue said, patting her awkwardly on the shoulders.

“Come inside,” Rolf said in a low, urgent voice. He steadied Lilah before moving to help Pogue. “Take care of his horse,” Rolf called out to the groom hovering nearby.

“Let me just tell you—”

“Not here,” Rolf interrupted. “Not here. A lot has happened.”

Walking so close they were stepping on one another’s heels, they hurried into the Castle. The Emissary was standing there, an unctuous smile on his face, but Rolf brushed by him with a muttered apology. They made for the narrow staircase to the Spyglass Tower, and as soon as they started up the steps, the stone wall sealed behind them, cutting off the Emissary’s protests.

“How did it do that?” Pogue sounded dazed. “What day is it?” He shook himself and almost turned back, but Rolf tugged his arm and kept him going up the stairs. “Can we get back out?”

“Yes, of course,” Rolf assured him. “This is the only room in the Castle where we can be alone. We can usually find it, but it’s easiest to come up here with Celie.”

“All right,” Pogue agreed, still sounding stunned.

“And if we need to meet here,” Rolf went on, “put a handkerchief in your sleeve. Left for immediately, right for at midnight.”

Pogue blinked rapidly. “But … why would we need a signal like that? Why would we need to meet here?”

They had reached the top of the steps, and Pogue collapsed on a stool, exhausted and confused. Celie and her brother and sister stood in front of him. Celie didn’t want to explain everything that had happened to
them
. She wanted to hear Pogue’s news at once—were their parents and Bran really alive?

“You’d better tell us your news first,” Rolf said. There was a pitcher of water and a cup on the table that hadn’t been there before. He poured Pogue a cupful, and when the other young man had drunk, Rolf took the cup back and rolled it between his hands. “Are they alive?”

“As far as the wizards can tell, yes,” Pogue said, leaning back against the wall. “I couldn’t see anything myself at the ambush site. I’m afraid that scavengers, human and animal, have picked the area clean.” He grimaced. “No one nearby knew anything more than we already knew. So I went from there to the College of Wizardry. They’d heard about it, of course, but the rumor in the city is that the entire royal party had definitely been killed. So naturally it hadn’t occurred to them to try to track Bran.

“I told them our suspicions, and led some wizards back to the site of the ambush,” Pogue continued. “They sniffed around. Did some spells, tasted some of the dirt and the bark off the trees.”

“They tasted dirt and bark?” Celie wrinkled her nose.

“That’s why you won’t find me at the College,” Pogue said.

Lilah made an impatient noise, and Celie ducked her head. Pogue, looking chastened, went on.

“They could see which soldiers had died—I had the list you gave me—and they were right every time. They knew that Sergeant Avery got away. Then they got really excited. They said that the king, the queen, and Bran were definitely alive! They left the site of the ambush just before Avery did.”

“Still alive?” Celie’s heart was humming, it was beating so fast. Tears were slipping out of her eyes and she didn’t realize it for a minute or two. Lilah made a little sobbing, moaning noise and put her arms around Celie.

“Alive,” Lilah whispered. Then she buried her face in Celie’s neck and wept.

“Where are they?” Rolf was also wet-cheeked, but he managed to stand straight and tall nonetheless.

Pogue rubbed the back of his neck. “They don’t know.”

“Why not?” Celie cried. “If they can tell who was there, and if they’re alive or dead, why can’t they follow the trail to Mummy and Daddy?” She was hugging Lilah fiercely, and didn’t care if she sounded babyish when she called her parents “Mummy and Daddy.”

“Because the trail ends not far from the ambush site,” Pogue told her. “It just … disappears. They can’t find a single footprint, nor locate their auras.”

“But they’re
wizards
!” Celie refused to accept such a silly answer. Wizards could find anything … wizards could
do
anything! Surely it would be easy for them to find someone’s trail, particularly if it was someone they knew, like Bran. He had lived with them, trained with them, for three years!

“Bran is also a wizard,” Pogue reminded her, echoing her thoughts. “They suspect it was magic, Bran’s magic, that hid the trail. The wizards think that they’re in hiding.”

“But what do they need to hide from?” Outraged, Celie pushed Lilah away, though not roughly. “Why don’t they just come home? If there are no more bandits lurking in the forest, why hide?” Her voice broke. “We’re here all alone, with the Council after us, and Prince Khelsh … It’s been awful!”

“Maybe they know that home is dangerous now, too,” Rolf said.

They all turned to look at him. Rolf was staring out one of the windows, his face gilded by the morning light, with one hand clenched in front of his chest. His mouth was a thin line, and all the jokes and teasing had gone right out of him.

“What has happened here?” Pogue sat up straight on the stool, watching Rolf carefully. “What’s happened since I’ve been gone? Why are we meeting in a sealed room, in secret?”

“Rolf is the king,” Celie blurted out. “Glower the Eightieth.”

Pogue blinked. “I thought you were waiting for me to report back. I’m sorry it took so long, but—”

“Didn’t Rolf say in his message what was going to happen?” Lilah drew over two stools, and pushed Celie gently onto one while she took the other.

Rolf remained standing. “No. I only told him to return as swiftly as possible. I didn’t want the letter to be intercepted.” He swung around to face Pogue. “The Council decided that I would be crowned this week … yesterday, that is. And that I needed a regency to guide me while I learned to be king. The Council, plus Prince Khelsh of Vhervhine, are the new regency, and I am their puppet-king until Khelsh kills me or I turn twenty-four, whichever happens first. Can you guess which one Khelsh is hoping for?”

“This is madness,” Pogue said, stricken. “Can they do any of these things? Isn’t there some sort of … precedence? Has the Castle made its will known?”

Rolf just shook his head.

“The Castle is on our side!” Celie was stung by Rolf’s lack of loyalty.

“I’m not saying that it isn’t, Cel,” her brother quickly said. “But it also hasn’t kicked the Councilors out or Khelsh—”