A Conspiracy of Ravens (5 page)

Grant had come to his feet, as had Aldora, when Bertha had begun her tirade, and now he bowed slightly and said, “I’m sorry if I have broken any of your rules, Lady Bertha.”

“They’re not my rules! They’re the rules of good society, but I expect you wouldn’t know about that.”

“Aunt Bertha,” Dora said, her eyes flashing, “you mustn’t say such things!”

Bertha Mulvane, however, had much more to say. She was primed to deliver a long sermon on the bad manners of the lower class—in which she placed a lowly inspector from Scotland Yard. Aldora knew her aunt very well and said hurriedly, “The inspector has come to see Mr. Tremayne. Come along, Inspector. I’ll take you to his room.”

Bertha glared at Grant and got in one parting shot. “You might buy a book on social etiquette, Inspector, and learn how to behave among the better classes.”

A hot reply rose to Grant’s lips, but he managed to shut it off. “I’ll run out immediately, as soon as I leave here, and buy some books that will improve my behaviour.”

Dora whispered as she led him down the hall, aware that Bertha was watching them go, “Don’t pay any attention to her, Matthew. She’s just an old grump!”

The small parlour that had been made into a bedroom for Dylan Tremayne was brightly illuminated by the sunlight that streamed in through the big windows on one wall. Dylan was sitting across a small table from David, and as he watched the small boy, he was fascinated, as he always was, by the workings of David Trent’s active brain. He knew that Serafina did not like that David showed more interest in matters of the imagination than in science, but it pleased Dylan. He waited, watching the sunlight touch the boy’s fair hair and thinking how much it looked like Serafina’s with a distinctive curl. David’s dark blue eyes were touched with just a bit of aquamarine colour, and he was sitting on the edge of his seat, studying the board in front of him. Finally he reached out and moved one checker.

“Now, boy, are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“Yes.”

Dylan laughed. “Well, that was the right move. You see, I have no place to go except to let you jump me. Here you are.” Dylan pushed the disc forward and thought about how adept the boy was at draughts. “You know,” he said, “I think that’s three games in a row you’ve beaten me.”

“You’re just letting me win, aren’t you?”

“Not a bit,” Dylan protested. “You beat me fair and square. You know,” he said, “the Americans call this game ‘checkers.’”

“Do they?”

“Yes, indeed, they do. Americans are strange people. Everybody knows it ought to be called ‘draughts.’”

“You beat me twice yesterday, Dylan.”

“Well, it’s good for a fellow to lose once in a while, see?”

“How can it be good to lose?”

“Why, you learn things from losing, David. The Bible says it’s good for a man to lose.”

David stared at the big man across the table from him. He had grown very fond of Dylan in the brief time he had known him, and he demanded again, “Why would it be good to lose?”

“Because losing is a part of life. It’s how we learn to do things, don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t understand.”

“Well, the first time we played draughts, you and I, you lost. But you learnt something from losing. You learnt something in that game. Every time you lose, you ask yourself,
Now why did I lose?
What can I do next time to see that I don’t?
”
Dylan paused and looked David in the eye. “Let me ask you a question, David. Would you rather go to a party or a funeral?”

“I’ve never really been to a funeral, but I think I’d rather go to a party.”

“Ah,” Dylan said and sat back in his chair. His glossy black hair needed trimming, and a lock of it fell down over his forehead. His cornflower blue eyes were wide-spaced and deep-set, and his wide mouth was able to express his thoughts simply by a twist. Now he smiled and said, “The Bible says it’s better to go to the house of mourning—that’s the funeral—than it is to go to the house of feasting.”

“I’d rather go to a feast.”

“Most of us would, but you don’t learn anything from partying. You learn from losing and having hard times. When I went in the Army, you think they gave me a soft bed and a maid to bring me food every day cooked especially for me? Not a bit of it, old man, not a bit! I slept on the floor, and I hate to tell you the things I had to eat. But it made a soldier out of me.”

David listened intently then said, “Tell me a story, Dylan.”

“Your mother doesn’t like me to tell you stories, at least not the kind I know.”

“I don’t see why. They’re fun.”

Dylan was not ready to argue the point with a ten-year-old. “Now, listen to me. We’re going to play a game, and you’ll learn something from it.”

David’s eyes sparkled. “What kind of a game?”

“Come over here to this bed. Get up on it now, boy. That’s the way. That’s the lad!” Dylan moved to make room for David rather slowly, but he pulled his feet in, tucking them underneath his knees on the bed. “Now, I’m the captain of this ship, my name is Odysseus, and you’re the crew.”

“It takes more than one man to be the crew for a ship,” David protested. “No ship has just a one-man crew.”

“Well, you’ve got lots of mates there. Look,” Dylan said, pointing to the empty space beside David, “there’s Oscar. See him sitting right beside you? Look, he’s got a black patch over his right eye. Probably lost it in a battle. His father was a blacksmith who made armor for kings. You see him now?”

Falling into the game, David laughed and said, “Yes, I see Oscar.”

“Well, look on the other side of him. That’s Punch. He was in prison for refusing to bow down to the king, but he escaped. He’s a good sailor now.”

David said, “Look, old Punch has a long scar on the side of his face.”

“Now you’re seeing it, you are.” The two went on, David’s eyes bright, and he laughed from time to time, but when his mother came in, he suddenly looked guilty.

“What are you doing in that bed, David?”

“It’s not a bed, Mum, it’s a warship. Dylan’s the captain, and I’m the crew. This is Punch, and this is Oscar, and that’s Jarrell sitting over there. Come on, Mum, get on the bed. You can be part of the crew.”

“I most certainly will not.” Serafina gave Dylan a sharp look. “More fanciful games, Captain?”

“Just a bit, but I’m doing it this way to teach David about great literature.”

“It doesn’t look like any literature to me. I don’t see a book.”

“Oh, we remember things we act out much longer than things we read in a book.”

Serafina shook her head, displeasure on her face. “You’re not well enough for such antics as that, Dylan.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Now, if you’ll help, Lady Trent, we can give David a lesson he’ll never forget.”

Despite herself, Serafina was intrigued by the behaviour of Dylan Tremayne. He was like no man she had ever known before. When they had first met, she had been displeased by his fanciful thoughts and his belief in the supernatural, especially in religion. But she couldn’t resist a sudden surge of gratitude, knowing that David’s desire for a father was, in part, being fulfilled by the black-haired actor.

“All right, I’ll play. What part of the crew am I?”

“Oh, you’re not part of the crew,” Tremayne said. “Sit over there in that chair, ma’am.”

Serafina went over and sat down and said, “Now what?”

“I’m Captain Odysseus, the great Greek soldier. David here is Marvin the Spike. He is a rough fellow.”

“And what am I then?” Serafina asked.

“You, my dear lady, are one of the beautiful Sirens who lure seamen to their deaths.” Dylan’s eyes were sparkling, and he used his hands to gesture as he said, “When a ship goes by the Island of the Sirens, these beautiful women come out, and they begin to sing. The sailors, of course, are lonely men. They’ve been at sea forever, it seems, without seeing a woman. When they hear the beautiful voices of the Sirens, and when they see the beauty of their faces and forms, they are entranced.”

“And what happens then?”

“Why, the sailors steer the ship toward the Sirens to get closer, so they can see their faces and hear their voices better, but they’re so entranced they don’t see the rocks. And the ship, inevitably, crashes into the rocks, and the sailors always die.”

“What does this have to do with literature?” Serafina demanded.

“Why, it’s from
The Odyssey
, ma’am. Don’t you remember?”

“I never read it.”

“Well, every schoolboy and every student at Oxford and Cambridge has read it. You see, David, I’m a Greek king. Odysseus is my name. A very clever fellow I am, and I am also a very curious man. I want to see and hear new things. So, when my ship gets close to the Sirens and we begin to hear their voices, I know the story of many men who have died because of those beautiful women. So, I want to hear a Siren and see her face, but I don’t want to die along with my crew. How can I do both, hear the Sirens and yet not die?”

“I don’t know,” David said.

“Do you know, Lady Trent?”

“I’m not interested in such things.”

“Well, you should be. It’s great literature. Here’s what happened. Tie me to the mast, Spike.”

“With what?”

“Pretend you’ve got a rope. Tie me tightly to the mast.”

David immediately began going through the motions, and Dylan asked, “Am I tied so tight I can’t break lose?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good. Then I want you to take wax and put it in your ears and in the ears of every crew member.”

David began actively moving around the bed. “Here’s for you, Punch. Get your ears full of it. Here’s for you, Oscar, and you, James.” He went through the list of imaginary crew then said, “Now what, Captain?”

“You sail close but stay away from the rocks.”

“What about you?”

“You put wax in your ears, boy, and then, in effect, the whole crew will be deaf, but I’ll be able to hear.”

“Yes, sir.” David pretended to put wax in his ears.

“Now, everybody’s deaf who’s sailing by the Sirens except me.” He turned and smiled at Serafina. “Why don’t you sing something, Siren?”

“Sing what?”

“Oh, anything. The Sirens’ voices were so beautiful that it didn’t matter what they sang.”

Serafina, despite herself, entered into the game. She sang an old song that she remembered from her childhood, and when she had finished, Dylan said, “Now, Spike, you can turn me lose. We’re past the Siren.”

David jumped up and pretended to turn the captain lose. “Now take the wax out of your ears.” Sitting there cross-legged on the bed, Dylan Tremayne said, “There, you see, I’m the only man who ever heard the Sirens sing and lived to tell about it.”

“What did the Siren sound like, Dylan?” David asked.

“Dull you are, old man! I can never tell that!”

“Did you ever get back home?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Is this what they teach the boys at Oxford and Cambridge?” Serafina demanded.

“Indeed, it is, and in every private school. Every schoolboy has to know
The Odyssey.
”

“I don’t see what good it does. It’s just a story.”

“Ah, but there’s more in it than you might think, Lady Serafina.”

“What’s in it, Dylan?” David demanded.

“Here’s what’s in it. You’ve got to take risks in life, see? Odysseus didn’t have to listen to those Sirens, but he wanted to experience it.”

Serafina shook her head. “He could have gone around them, couldn’t he?”

“But then he would never have heard the Sirens’ song. He would have missed out on a great experience. There are things you can’t go around, Lady Serafina. If your life is to be complete, you have to risk all to experience them.”

“Like what?” David asked, his eyes bright.

“Well, like love. Love is a wonderful thing, but it has risks.”

“What kind of risks?”

“Well,” turning to the boy, Dylan said, “you know when you love someone, you run the risk of getting hurt. Sorry I am to tell you, but those you love can hurt you more than anyone else. If you don’t want to get hurt, go live in a cave and don’t let anybody in. You won’t have much of a life, but you won’t get hurt.”

Serafina was fascinated at the workings of Dylan’s mind. She put her gaze on her son and saw that he had that familiar expression of thinking deeply. “Would it hurt for me to love you, Dylan?”

“It might. What if I failed you?”

“You would never do that.”

“I hope not, but sometimes those we love hurt us.”

“But not you.”

Serafina listened quietly but said nothing. She was thinking of her love for her husband and how he had failed her so terribly and hurt her almost beyond endurance. She suddenly said, “I’d rather you learn from books, David.” Her voice was strict, and both David and Dylan looked at her with surprise.

“Some things can’t be learnt that way,” Dylan said.

At that moment Dora came in with Matthew Grant. “What are you doing sitting on the bed, David?” Dora asked.

“We’re learning about things,” David said. “I’m Spike, and Dylan is Captain Odysseus. We’ve just been on a voyage, and Mum there is the Siren.”

Grant suddenly laughed, his eyes filled with humor. “I wish I could have studied
The Odyssey
that way. I learnt by getting my knuckles rapped by the schoolmaster.”