A Tale of Two Castles(23)

“Your missing dog is but one aspect of your danger.” ITs smoke tinged violet.

Count Jonty Um folded his arms. “Only Nesspa concerns you.”

Masteress Meenore reared up on ITs hind legs. The tail thumps were louder; the smoke darkened. “I am not a sorcerer, Your Lordship. I cannot deduce from nothing. If you conceal your circumstances, I will return to toasting bread and cheese.”

Count Jonty Um stood to leave.

I didn’t want him to leave us and perhaps lose his pet forever. “What does Nesspa look like? Is it a girl or a boy dog?”

“A boy. Big, up to my knee. His coat is gold.”

“He has a beautiful black nose,” I said. “I saw him.”

The count crouched almost to my level. “When he sees me, he wags his tail. When he sleeps, he snores, like this.” He growled in the back of his throat.

I held my breath. For a moment I thought he was going to turn into a dog, but he sat again and didn’t shape-shift.

IT sank back down. “Might he have run away?”

His Lordship shook his head and sat again. “He never has. He is six years old.” He paused. “Things have happened, but no danger. Only hatred of an ogre.”

I nodded.

“The hatred is nothing new,” IT said. “What is new?”


“Someone is stealing from me. Not just taking Nesspa.” He paused again. I suspected he thought out each sentence before saying it. “Stealing things. Linens, a wall hanging, a harness, three knives.”

“Ah,” IT said.

“Someone is poaching. Maybe the same person. I don’t allow hunting in my woods. My deer and rabbits used to come to me. Now they’re shy. Two mornings ago when I awakened, Nesspa was gone. He always sleeps on my bed.”

“A servant?” IT asked.

“They’re loyal.”

I swear I felt IT think a snort at the certainty. “No one has sent you a ransom note.”

“No one.” He opened the drawstring on the leather purse at his waist and drew out a silver, which glinted between his thumb and forefinger.

Masteress Meenore ignored it.

“When you find Nesspa, I will give you three more silvers and one for your assistant.”

For me? A silver? Two more and I could apprentice.

“My fee for finding your dog is two coppers.”

“The silvers . . .”

They both turned to me.

“Never mind.” But I wanted my silver.

“If I discover the people or the person endangering you,” IT said, “and put an end to your risk, then I will expect payment in silver.”

And a coin for me, too. Say it!

IT didn’t.

“Why do you say I’m in danger, Meenore?”

“The hatred, which is nothing new, as I said, has always been tempered by fear. Now someone, or more than one, is unafraid. That”—IT spread ITs claws, palms up—“is your danger.”

I felt frightened, but I wasn’t sure why. How could anyone hurt him?

“Tell me, Your Lordship, what is the reason for tomorrow’s feast?”

He looked down at his hands. “I want people to visit me. And His Highness will make an announcement.”

My masteress waited in vain for an explanation of the announcement.

His Lordship met ITs eyes. “Most of all I want them to come.”

“Ah. Are you permitting your guests to bring cats?”

He reddened and nodded.

Why? Cats were a danger.

IT said, “To persuade fools to visit you, you agreed to foolish demands.”

What did IT mean?

His Lordship mumbled—actually a quieter roar—“There will be dogs in the hall.”

“Naturally. If they may bring a weapon, you must have a defense.”

Oh. His guests had refused to come without their cats.

He clasped his hands so tight the knuckles whitened. “I want them to stop fearing me. And hating me. My steward suggested a feast. If they come and are safe, I hope the fear and hate will stop.”

But why did they fear and hate him? I had lost my fright by being with him for only a short while.

IT stood. “I will endeavor to find your dog and save your life. Elodie will live in your castle for now, as my eyes and ears.”

Lambs and calves! I went to the cupboard for my things.

IT added, “Take care, Elodie. Count, His Majesty and Her Highness are visiting you, are they not?”

“Yes.”

Oh no, the king!

“Elodie, His Highness is economical. He has no fear of an ogre and likes the count’s wood better than his own to keep him warm, the count’s food better than his own to feed his gluttony.”

“The girl Elodie is to reside in my castle?”

What was wrong with that?

“Good.”

I smiled as I folded my spare kirtle into my satchel. If he liked, I could teach him the mansioner’s tales.

He stood. “What will she do?”

“Your kitchen will need extra hands for the feast. Elodie, your hands will do if you can peel an apple, not merely weep over it.”

Naturally I could. I drew tight the satchel strings. “But Masteress, the town knows I’m your assistant.”

“Tomorrow, as I cook my skewers, I will mention that I let the count borrow you for a handsome sum.”