A Tale of Two Castles(55)

Master Sulow transferred the tray from between himself and me to his other side, signifying that sociability had ended. “Ask what you like. I’ll answer as I choose.”

If Master Sulow had had any part in setting the cats on the count, I wouldn’t mansion for him.

“When you were in the kitchen waiting to perform, what did you notice?”

“No one wanted to serve His Majesty. One maid destined for him dropped her tray and wept.”

“How long did you spend in the hall itself?”

“I was present to hear my minstrel and then again to watch my apprentices set up, and of course I saw Elodie.” He stood and sketched a brief bow for me.

I curtsied.

“Thus I was there when the cats stalked His Lordship. I could have started them stalking myself, but why would I? Elodie could have as well.”

I? I?

But I couldn’t have. Everyone was watching me. Master Sulow knew that.

“I don’t fancy an ogre owning a castle,” Master Sulow said, “but he paid me handsomely. Meenore, nothing passed in the hall to show where His Lordship is now.”

“Would you have liked the count to become king?”

“An ogre in place of a tyrant? The ogre is far more generous.”

“Master Sulow,” I said, “did Master Thiel catch your eye?”

“Thiel? Yes. While His Lordship was shape-shifting, Thiel slid a silver spoon up his sleeve.”

Thieving even then.

“And two wine tumblers as well. But I didn’t see him signal the cats.”

“Four nights ago,” I said, “were you practicing a lion role? Did you roar in the middle of the night?”

“Several nights ago, yes. I don’t remember how many.”

“Were you practicing in your mansion, master?”

“No. When I’m sleepless, I march above the town and rehearse at full voice.”

“More than one person heard a lion that night,” IT said. “Have you told anyone of your late rehearsing?”

“No one.”

The townsfolk who heard wouldn’t have known it was Master Sulow. They would have thought it was His Lordship as a lion. Had Master Sulow set the ogre trap?

He told us nothing else I thought of interest. When IT had exhausted ITs questions, he gave us leave to speak with his apprentices and the minstrel.

The apprentices said they’d been too intent on their preparations to attend to anything else. They claimed not to have been aware of the stalking until the ogre began to vibrate, which they felt before they saw.

The minstrel had been on her way back to the mansions when the trouble began, but she told us about her observations while she sang. “One in the hall hardly watched me. An elderly goodwife kept her eyes on you, young mistress. Whenever you poured for His Highness, she fidgeted and whispered to her goodman, which was rude while I was singing.”

“Where did this goodwife sit?” I asked.

The minstrel gave the answer I already knew: She sat in Goodwife Celeste’s seat.





Chapter Thirty-One

The noon bells were ringing when we left the mansions. I walked upwind of IT. “Masteress, why do you think my temperament is wrong for a mansioner?”

“Sulow spoke to the heart of it. He gives his audience what they want. You will give them what you want.”

Was that true of me? For now I hoped only to perform.

“Next we will speak with Master Thiel.” IT set off through a field, heading south.

“At His Lordship’s castle?” The castle lay to the south. I was eager to go there and learn any news that might be. Perhaps the count had returned.

“Master Thiel will not soon revisit the castle in daylight. By now someone has counted the silver and the plate. Lodie, I have not half the day to walk with you to His Lordship’s woods. You must ride.”

“But we have no donkey.”

“Common sense! Ride on me.”

“You?”

IT lowered ITself to ITs belly, then rolled onto ITs side. “Keep your cloak under you. My skin grows hotter as I fly. Now climb on.”

I balanced myself, one hip against it, one foot on the ground. IT stood and slid me into place with ITs shoulder. I crossed my legs so all of me was on my cloak. If ITs skin was going to be too hot to touch, there would be nothing to hang on to.

I’m not frightened, I told myself, and clasped my hands so tight the skin whitened. IT ran and flapped ITs wings, bouncing me hard while I could still cling to IT, but the moment we were aloft, ITs flight evened.

Mother! Father! Albin! I’m a bird!

The day was calm, but flying made a wind. What power, to create a wind! The air ballooned the princess’s cap, lifting it half off my head.

ITs wings pumped. My view flickered. Wings raised, and I saw the landscape, blurred and tinted, through ITs wing segments. Wings down, and my sight cleared. Below lay the count’s castle. I leaned over and almost fell.

How reduced the castle seemed from above! I saw it as if drawn on parchment: six squares for towers on the outer curtain, four circles for the inner towers; big horseshoes for the inner gatehouses, smaller horseshoes for the outer ones; straight lines for the curtain walls, except the front wall, which bulged outward, edged by the meandering moat.

Two people—sparrow size—walked along the inner curtain wall walk, four along the larger outer. Several stood here and there in the inner ward, several in the outer. The search was still in progress. His Lordship hadn’t returned, but they hadn’t given up hope.