A Tale of Two Castles(60)

His Majesty had been poisoned. Whoever had done it might still be in the castle. Death by poison would prove me guiltless, but my cleared name would be no use to me.

I set the tray by the door, where it tempted me. If I had to keep looking at the food, I would eat it. I climbed up to the window again, poured out the cider, and tossed the bread and pottage. I hoped a hungry night creature wouldn’t dine and die.

We’d had no frost yet, so the crickets still sang, un-troubled by the plight of a human girl. A dark shape blew across the sky from north to south, turned and returned, angling my way, trailing purple smoke. My masteress!

My masteress, angry. I gripped the bars. How would I convince IT of my innocence?

IT crossed over the outer curtain and flew lower until IT was level with the tower’s second story. ITs right claw held a sack.

Again it wheeled back and forth, coming closer with each pass. I feared IT would break a wing on the tower. But IT whipped around and anchored ITself to the stone. Claw over claw, clinging to cracks, IT climbed to me.

“Lodie? Have you—”

“I wouldn’t poison anyone. I’m not a whited sepulcher.” I was weeping again. “I love the ogre.”

“Have you eaten anything here?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. And I’m not a spy.”

“Nothing? No drink?”

“None.”

IT smiled. I wiped my streaming eyes and dripping nose with my sleeve and smiled back. I had never seen IT look so happy.

“I couldn’t warn you not to eat in the presence of the guards. You believe I suspected you?” ITs smoke tinted pink. “You think me an idiot?”

“No. But you called yourself a fool. I thought, a fool for trusting me.”

“A fool for not realizing you would be accused. I never for a moment believed you to be a spy or a whited sepulcher.”

I tried not to sound reproachful. “Where have you been?”

“I found Dess and your Goodwife Celeste. They could tell me nothing about Jonty Um, but both have an understanding of poisons and their antidotes. They’re in the king’s chamber now, along with the physician, Sir Maydsin, who is worthless in my opinion. Dess slipped out to inform me His Highness will likely live.”

Relief swept through me. “Do they think I poisoned the king?”

“Dess and Goodwife Celeste?”

I nodded.

“They didn’t say.”

“Will the guards release me since His Highness is better?” I shook my head. “No. They won’t.” His Highness had still been poisoned.

“He’ll preside over your trial.”

And wouldn’t be merciful.

“Whatever sort of monarch he is,” IT said, “he will be fair. He wants to discover the true poisoner as much as anyone.”

How would he do that? “Masteress, would you bring me a few skewers and a jug of water?”

“I have.” IT let go of the tower with ITs right claw and held out the sack, which barely fit between the bars. Something inside jingled.

IT grasped the window bars with both claws. “Climb down, Lodie. You are too precariously perched.”

I did. In the sack, along with the food and drink I found a leather purse—containing two silvers and three coppers.

“Masteress!” I cried.

“Speak softly.”

I lowered my voice. “Masteress!”

“It is unwise to be in prison without a full purse. You may succeed in bribing a guard, but do not attempt to bribe more than one at once. Each will not trust the other.”

“Thank you!”

“If you don’t use the coins, I expect them back.”

I was affronted. “I’m not Master Thiel.” I pushed my old purse into the new one and hung the new one on my belt.

“Lodie, I can visit you only at night, but I will watch your window at intervals during the day. If you need me, tie your cap to a bar. I’ll come somehow.”

I nodded while pulling a piece of cheese off its skewer.

“You may hear a lion roar again tonight if the wind is in the right direction. Sulow has agreed to roar.”

“Why?”

“Perhaps we can draw out our villain.”

“Masteress, why did Cellarer Bwat accuse me?”

“Common sense tells me that he knew someone would be named. He didn’t want the someone to be himself or any of his friends among the servants, so he offered you, a stranger.”

I wondered whether Sir Misyur or Her Highness had asked him or if he’d come forward unasked.

“Farewell, Elodie. May your sleep be sweet.”

“Thank you, Masteress.” I wished IT could stay. “Good night.”

“Do not climb up to the window unless you must.” IT let go of the bars and was gone.

I threw a log on the fire and toasted three skewers. With each bite I took in ITs friendship.

When I finished, I returned the remaining skewers and the half-empty jug to the sack, which I hid between the head of the bed and the wall.

I lay down. Firelight made the ceiling glow orange-gray. For how many nights would I look up at it? For how many years?

Two guards brought my breakfast, one of them a chatty, fatherly sort who informed me that the king had eaten his breakfast and his face was no longer so waxen. Goodwife Celeste, Master Dess, and the physician attended him in turn, although they would depart soon if his improvement continued.