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Authors: Gail Carson Levine

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BOOK: A Tale of Two Castles
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Chapter Sixteen

Y
es! Master Thiel. How sweetly he slept, as deeply as a child.

Was he one of the count's grooms, or did he have no other place to lay his head? My heart went out to him if he had no home.

My heart went out to him if he had a dozen homes. Quietly, I left the stall.

“Do you treat Jonty Um when he is ill?”

“Princess, His Lordship is not a beast.”

“He is tended by Sir Maydsin,” Master Gise said, “as you and your father are.”

“La!” I heard embarrassment in her voice. “I meant when he is a beast. Have you ever tended him when he was a monkey?”

“No, Your Highness. Hush, honey. I meant
hush
to the goat, Your Highness.”

Where might Nesspa be hidden? And if I found him, what would I do?

“What are you putting on her?”

“Bran, Your Highness.”

If it was just bran, what was that sharp smell?

I entered a large open area. Ahead, on the outer castle wall, firelight cast a red glow and provided faint illumination. My view of the fireplace itself was blocked by carts and trestles topped with harnesses and saddles. This would be the likely spot to hide anything.

The princess's voice twanged. “Why is she rolling her neck so?”

“There are many bites, Princess. She is very sick.”

A thorough search would take hours. I began by peering into the blackness under the nearest cart, but seven snoozing dogs could be there and I wouldn't see them.

I tiptoed to the fireplace and saw the expected: three stable hands sleeping on their pallets. Mustn't wake them. I picked my way silently between two of them and found the poker. But on my return, I accidentally tapped a slumberer's shoulder with the toe of my shoe.

Luckily, he faced away from me. He rose groggily on one elbow. I stopped breathing.

For a full minute he didn't move, but then he rolled onto his stomach, and I tiptoed away.

I used the poker to probe gently under a cart. No Nesspa, so I climbed into the cart itself, which turned out to be a bench wagon for bringing guests to the castle. I felt beneath the benches. My fingers encountered no animals, but they brushed against a morsel of fabric, which I picked up. By feel it was a pouch, holding nothing heavy, perhaps holding nothing. Still, its owner might want it. By feel again, I opened my purse and stuffed it in. In the morning I would try to find the owner.

As I climbed out of the cart, I heard a bleat and then a groan from deep in the stable.

“Alack! Is she dying?”

No one answered. Then, finally, Master Dess said, “The goat is dead.”

Poor creature.

“Dead? Deh-eh-eh-d!” Princess Renn wailed.

A horse neighed. I groped under another wagon, then climbed in and explored. The cart was empty but for a thin layer of straw.

“In the morning,” Master Gise said, “I will have the carcass removed and inform His Lordship.”

“Dead people are called
remains
,” the princess said. “Why should a beast be called a
carcass
?”

It did seem unfair. I hoped Nesspa wasn't a carcass. I looked under an overturned wheelbarrow. Nothing.

“Princess,” Master Dess said, “in death the goat will be treated with respect. I swear to it.”

They were silent until Master Gise said, “You should return to your apartment, Your Highness.”

Her voice rose. “
Should?
I think I should stay with this goat and mourn her death. You both may go.”

Lambs and calves, she was good! Presence of mind, Father would have said. Master Gise and Master Dess would leave, and she and I could search together, but I'd have to warn her about waking Master Thiel and the stable hands.

“Your Highness, Master Gise lives here, and I will sleep here as well tonight.”

They would pass me on the way to their pallets! I crept toward the aisle of stalls. I had to get out, and quickly.

“Then I will stay only a minute or two and let you have your rest. Will you join me in an
Eh
lodie—oh! I meant
eulogy—
to these remains.”

Did Master Dess know my name? I couldn't remember.

I tiptoed by the carts as fast as I could go.

“We must leave this life”—her voice rose on
leave
, a signal for me, as if I needed one—“all of us, whether goat or grasshopper, child or chicken, person or panther, human or heron. . . .” She was entirely carried away. I hoped she would continue until I escaped.

While she named more pairings, I reached the middle aisle we had entered through and worked my way past the stalls. As I went by, I peeped into Master Thiel's stall for a second glimpse of him. The stall was empty. I halted, squinted, looked away and back again. Still empty.

“. . . and even an ox or a camel or a bumblebee may be mourned. La! Perhaps not so much a bumblebee.”

Had I looked in the wrong stall? No. There was the broom I'd knocked over. Had I imagined Master Thiel?

“The goat will surely be mourned. Maker of goat's milk, giver of goat cheese, happy in life, she deserves these few words in her memory.”

I neared the doors.

“Now, masters, I will let you finish the night in sleep.”

I was out. I flew up the stairs and waited for her in the inner ward.

What would I do if Master Gise or Master Dess decided to escort her to the donjon?

She came out alone. “Was I not quick-witted to secretly tell you to leave? Did you find Nesspa?”

I nodded, then shook my head. “I may have missed him in the dark.”

She patted the top of my cap. “You did your best.” She yawned. “I shall continue the search tomorrow. Go to your bed,
Eh
lodie, and I will go to mine.”

I went to my pallet but not to instant sleep. A servant nearby moaned from a dream. At home, Albin was a quiet sleeper. The cottage was small, cozy. I would be tucked into bed, a pallet there, too, nestled in our little house tight against our mountain, thrice snug and sheltered.

And thrice loved.

I rolled onto my side. What had I learned tonight?

That the princess was kind and gave away caps and was going to marry an ogre despised by her subjects. That Master Thiel and Master Dess could pop up anywhere. That Master Dess was an animal physician. That a dog was not easily found. That, so far as I could tell, I had discovered nothing to help my masteress deduce or induce and nothing to keep His Lordship from harm.

Chapter Seventeen

A
wareness of the meeting with my masteress must have awakened me while my fellow servants still slumbered. My eyes felt gritty from too little sleep. I sat up and straightened the princess's cap, sliding the bows from my left ear to my chin.

The fire had died down to nothing. I placed my satchel under my mattress and tidied the blankets over the lump. The pallet would be stacked, but I didn't know where, so I left it. I owned nothing to interest a thief.

Hugging my cloak, I exited into the inner ward. At the well I splashed my face, although a little water wouldn't pass for cleanliness with IT. Then I ran through the postern passage, an arched tunnel to the postern door, which opened onto the west side of the outer ward.

Dawn hadn't yet come, but the growing light revealed a fishpond to my right and a double row of fruit trees along the outer curtain, the castle's outermost wall.

Where would IT land? Each side of the castle was a quarter mile long. Had IT come down already on the other side? IT wasn't in the sky, and I might be expected to deduce where IT would land.
Enh enh enh.

I smelled not a whiff of spoiled eggs. I started toward the back of the castle, reasoning that IT would be unlikely to land in front, where the gatehouses were and where guards might come swarming out.

As I rounded the tower, I saw ahead three fenced-in herb and vegetable gardens. Along the inner curtain bloomed Lepai rosebushes, which can flower through a light frost.

Ah, there IT was, flying from the west. IT sailed over the outer curtain, then wheeled to and fro just as the sun rose.

“Masteress!” I cried.

The tip of ITs tail flicked, in recognition of me, I supposed, but IT continued to fly, swooping here and there. When ITs face turned toward me, I saw a wild grin.

IT landed in the middle of the ward with ITs right claw outstretched. ITs left claw held three filled skewers.

I heard a terrified
yeep!
As I watched in horror, IT raised a fat brown hare to ITs flame. A minute later, IT held out the roast.

“Would you like a haunch, Lodie?”

I shook my head and kept half the ward between IT and me.

“Then come and eat your skewers. Breakfast will be gone by the time you return indoors.”

I rushed close for the skewers—uncooked—then backed away.

IT sat, placed the hare on ITs thigh, and carved the meat with ITs talons.

“Are you the ogre's poacher?” I blurted.

ITs smoke blued. “I induce and deduce flawlessly, but occasionally I forget common sense. I should have let the rabbit live.” IT devoured ITs meal quickly, bones as well as meat. “I am no poacher”—ITs smoke whitened, ITs discomfort over—“not since I gave up catching and toasting young maidens.”
Enh enh enh
.

I smiled, although I imagined a squirming, shrieking girl in ITs claws. My fear of IT surged back.

“Lodie . . . come closer.” IT held my gaze.

I went, but slowly.

“Answer me. Even if you are a budding mansioner, I will know if you are lying. Do you believe I might roast a person?”

I swallowed. I wished Goodwife Celeste had never frightened me.

ITs smoke was bright pink, ITs scales red. “Angry as I am right now, am I flaming at you?”

I shook my head.

“I could broil you and eat you, and your parents would not know and no one here would care. . . .”

His Lordship might care. “You told me to doubt everyone.”

“Yes, but test your doubt. You slept in my lair unharmed for two nights. And during one of those nights, you were grimy and flea ridden. Awareness of your dirty state troubled my sleep.”

When I'd been awakened by the roaring, IT had been soundly asleep.

“Yet I did not harm even a lobe of your ear. Alas, you are almost as filthy as before, for all that you now have a cap.” IT lowered ITself onto ITs belly, keeping ITs head high. “Tell me what has happened and what you have learned.”

The most important news first. “Her High—”

“Wait.” IT lumbered to the outer curtain at the end of the herb gardens.

I followed, munching on bread and cheese, no longer afraid.

“The castle has ears, but the outer curtain is deaf. Now, speak.”

“Princess Renn is to marry His Lordship.”

“Start at the beginning, Lodie.”

I did. Under ITs prompting I recalled details I would have forgotten. For a mansioner, this was fine memory training. Still, I didn't remember enough to satisfy IT. I had a sinking feeling of failure, just as I used to about the geese.

When I raved over how sweet the monkey was, IT held up a claw. “Emotion is of no consequence.”

But it was! “Please, Masteress, listen. He is a kindly ogre under his gruffness.”

“Inconsequential.” IT asked a dozen more questions about the journey to the castle, then progressed to my meeting with the princess. IT
enh enh enh
ed endlessly over the monstrous shadow.

“If people in Two Castles know she is to marry His Lordship,” I said, “they must be furious. No one in the town wants to be ruled by an ogre someday.”

“I agree.” IT went on to questions about what had taken place in the stable.

Finally, when I thought I might pass the rest of my life in the outer ward, IT asked, “Is there anything else?”

My mind squeezed itself until I had a headache. Oh! How could I have forgotten this? “Master Thiel was sleeping in the stables. He slept through Princess Renn's shrieking.”

“Or seemed to.”

I blurted, “Masteress, is he in need? Without a home?” Suffering? Could I help him?

“His father left him nothing and gave the mill and the mule to his brothers, but never fear. Thiel will make his fortune through marriage. Half the maidens in Two Castles are wild for him. If you have set your new cap for him”—
enh enh enh
—“you had best have more than three tins. Thiel's blood runs noble. His great-great-grandfather, a knight, was the first owner of Jonty Um's castle. Thiel's bride—”

“What happened?”

“Lodie, do not interrupt your masteress.”

I apologized.

“Debts, extravagance. Jonty Um's grandfather bought the castle from Thiel's grandfather without regard for the opinion of the town.”

Another reason for people to dislike the count.

“Thiel looks much as the old man once did. I do not fancy him for you, so it is just as well you are poor.”

I didn't enjoy being teased. “The stall he'd been sleeping in was empty on my way out.”

“Mmm. You peered into the same stall of a certainty?”

“I dropped a broom there.”

“Think. He may have moved the broom to a different stall.”

I blushed. I should have thought of that. “I picked this up in a wagon in the stable.” I pulled the little pouch out of my purse and opened it. The contents were only a few half-dried leaves. When I brought them to my nose, I smelled peppermint.

Goodwife Celeste?

“What is it?”

“Peppermint.” Had she been in the stables and then gone? I turned the pouch over in my hand, looking for some distinctive mark, but it was plain brown wool of ordinary quality. I thought back to the cog and was certain I hadn't seen a pouch. “Do the goodwives of Two Castles carry peppermint?”

IT held the pouch up against the sun. “A healer might. A traveler might. The animal physician may have dropped it. A goodwife of the town would keep her herbs at home.”

“On the cog the goodwife Celeste gave me peppermint leaves. Do you remember I told you that I met her and her goodman when I was proclaiming?”

“Naturally I remember.”

I took a deep breath. “I didn't mention that she warned me against you. She said you're moody and might do anything if . . .”

IT stretched ITs neck and aimed a puff of fire skyward. The flame guttered out before reaching the ground. “Because dragons have fire, we're believed to be hot-tempered.”

IT did have a temper.

“Everyone has a temper, Lodie.”

“Masteress, she wears a bracelet of twine. Master Thiel has a twine ring. Is there a league of wearers of twine jewelry?”

“Mmm.”

Mmm
again. I returned the pouch to my purse. “Masteress, I like her, and she may not have been in the stables.”

“She warned you away from me!” IT stood on ITs back legs. “I will return at the nine-o'clock bells tonight. As soon as His Lordship's guests arrive, remain with him.” IT flapped ITs wings. “Do not let him out of your sight. Trust no one. Keep him safe.”

How could a girl keep an ogre safe?

IT circled above me. “You can shout. A person half your size can shout. Act!”

BOOK: A Tale of Two Castles
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