A Tale of Two Castles(5)

Chapter Three

The weather remained uncommonly warm. The cog master complained about the still air and our slow progress. I feared we would arrive after Guild Week, and then what would I do?

We’d set out on a Sunday, the only day the cog left Lahnt. Masters in Two Castles began seeing boys and girls on Monday, and by Friday all the places would be taken.

At noon on Tuesday I lunched on the last pear, the end of my provisions. By nightfall the wind freshened, although the air remained warm. When I awoke the next day, I sensed a change in the motion of the cog. The troughs weren’t as deep, the crests not so high. I rushed to the foredeck.

An uneven triangle broke the horizon. Our cog now sailed amid fishing boats, a whale among minnows.

I folded my cloak and pushed it into my satchel with my spare hose, chemise, and kirtle—my entire wardrobe, except for the clothes I wore and the shoes on my feet. My hand encountered the only other item, a list in Mother’s small, neat writing on a sheet of parchment. I took it out.


HALF DOZEN RULES FOR LODIE

1. Be truthful.

2. Act with forethought, not impetuously. Your mother and father depend on your safety.

3. Neither stare nor eavesdrop.

4. Do not interrupt or contradict your elders or finish their sentences or think you know more than they do.

5. Do not befriend anyone until you are certain he or she is worthy of your trust. Beware the whited sepulcher.

6. Know always that you have our love.

7. Be generous (an extra, generous rule).



I patted the page seven times before returning it to my satchel.

Half the morning passed as we drew closer to land. From behind, the other passengers pressed against me, as impatient as I. I touched my apron and felt the familiar bulge of my purse. The stink of fish assailed my nose.

I took in the tiers of houses ahead, a few built of stone, most of wattle and daub—clay and wood. Above town, on the right, a cluster of towers poked the sky. To the left, barely cresting the hilltop, were the tips of more towers, the other castle. Which was king’s and which ogre’s, I had no idea.

What I sought most I didn’t see—the mansioners’ wagons or at least the three pennants: the pennant that showed a laughing face; the one with a weeping face; and the one with a hushing face, a finger over the lips. No mansions, but the entire town could not be on view from here.

The cog master shouted instructions to his seamen. Passengers called to people waving from the dock. Someone touched my elbow. I turned.

The goodwife held a bundle of black-and-white fur. “Here. I bought you a kitten. It’s good luck to bring a cat to Two Castles.”

“Thank you, but—”

“You can leave it on the wharf. No cat starves here.”

The kitten was asleep and didn’t waken when Goodwife Celeste handed it over. It filled my two hands but weighed almost nothing, its ears huge, its pink nose tiny. I knew from the white left ear that this was the kitten who had climbed the rigging.

“Thank you, mistress.”

“You’re welcome. I hope to see you in the mansions someday soon.”

“Do you know where they are?”

She pointed upward. “Beyond the town. See, there is King Grenville’s castle.” Her finger moved rightward to the jutting towers. “The mansioners are east of his castle and”—her finger shifted to the left—“east of his menagerie.” Left again. “They are northeast of Count Jonty Um’s castle, which is farther south but less than a mile from town.”

“I see. Thank you.”

She smiled and threaded her way back to rejoin her husband.

Farewell, my only friend, my kind friend who cannot help me any longer.

My stomach growled despite the fish stench. The cog bumped against the pier, causing the kitten to waken and squirm in my hands.

“Be still,” I whispered. “I’ll set you free soon enough.”

As if it understood, it quieted and peered out at the world of solid land.

A seaman lowered the gangplank. I hung back and let the other passengers descend first. The girl in the odd apparel and her family were embraced by another family. Travelers were passed from hug to hug. Seamen rushed by me, joking to one another.

If anyone awaited me, this would be less an adventure. I remembered Albin’s wisdom: A mansioner is always alone. If a hundred people had come to meet me, I would still be separate.

The goodwife and her goodman set off together into an alley. I wondered why no one had been here to greet them.

The kitten sniffed my wrists. I followed the last passenger and stepped onto the pier. How unaccustomed my legs were to a floor that didn’t move. I wondered if seamen ever fell land-sick after weeks at sea.

I set the kitten down between an empty bucket and a mound of fishnet. “Be well. Live a happy cat life.” I touched its nose. “Bring me luck.”

It mewed briefly, then fell silent. I walked the length of the pier to the wharf. Where the two met, I stopped.

To my left a woman hawked muffins out of a handcart. My mouth watered, but I didn’t go to her. I was sure to find better if I waited.

In a doorway a man and a woman sat on stools mending nets. Nearby a fishing boat lay upended, its owner busy applying oakum and pitch.

Stalls lined the wharf and people ambled along, stopping to examine the wares or to buy.