Authors: Sophie Masson
Hunter's Moon (7 page)
The next day, Verakina was the only one of the seven who stayed at home â even Grim left the underground hollow to gather roots and herbs for his potions. But Verakina was very busy, too, bustling about doing household chores and at the same time trying to get me to stay in bed.
âRest â that's what we need you to do,' she scolded.
âI've rested more than enough,' I muttered. I was impatient to get moving again. The swelling had gone down in my feet and they no longer throbbed. Confined to the bed, how was I to recover enough strength to get to my father?
She looked at me with the same kind but impatient look that Babina used to wear when I was whining. âAs you wish.'
âCan I go exploring? I mean, just in the haven,' I added, quickly. âNot to snoop or anything, I just want to have a look around.'
âI know you wouldn't snoop,' she said. âBesides, there are no secrets here. It's a big place though, much bigger than you'd think, so you'll get very tired if you go too far
on those crutches. Be careful. Your feet haven't healed yet, whatever it might feel like.'
âI'll be careful,' I promised.
âI'll come and fetch you when it's time for lunch. Now be off with you â and stop interrupting!' said Verakina, flicking a duster at me.
Smiling, I left her to her work and set off slowly on my exploration. I soon found out that Verakina was right. Beyond the big main room which was all that I'd known till now, the haven stretched on and on and on, a veritable rabbit warren of small rooms set along winding corridors that smelt of damp earth.
I opened a few doors, only to close them again when I realised they were people's bedrooms. Soon I came across a set of rooms that were clearly not private: a well-stocked pantry lined with jars of all kinds of preserves, bags of flour and sugar and spices, bottles of oil and vinegar, and boxes full of salted meat and fish; a sewing room where I spied my freshly laundered but torn clothes, set in a pile to be repaired; a storeroom piled with boxes and baskets. Then I discovered the water room. Against a wall was a very large barrel. A pipe ran from the barrel into the wall, and under the tap of the barrel was a china basin. I took a glass from a shelf that housed jugs and glasses and turned the tap. Water tinkled into the glass â the same lightly sparkling, faintly scented water I'd had before â and I drank it down. The water must enter the pipe from the outside, I thought. It must be linked to a spring or a stream, out in the forest.
I went on and discovered a meat storeroom, a very cold place where I didn't linger; a very warm room that, from the look of the many bundles hanging from the ceiling,
was used for drying herbs; and a drinks cellar, with wine and beer, cordials and gleaming juices. It was extraordinary: I'd never seen so much food and drink. There was enough, surely, to feed an army or withstand a siege.
The thought made me feel a little uneasy, reminding me yet again of that first Prince of Outlaws, but I tried to push the feeling aside, for of course the people of the haven needed to secure their supplies. Of course they needed to have enough to see them through long forest winters. This was not a sign of some secret conspiracy. The haven network was not a web of rebels and the Prince of Outlaws was not planning a coup. Why would he? There was no war lord laying our land to waste, only pompous Duke Ottakar and his haughty sister who might not be the best rulers Noricia had ever had, but who were perfectly all right in their own dull way.
Oh heavens, I thought, as a memory struck me suddenly. Today I should be presenting myself at Town Hall to take the second oath in front of the Mayor of Lepmest and all his councillors! I would not be there, but Emilia and Lucian would be. If they asked Belladonna where I was â which was unlikely, given that she'd not exactly been friendly towards either of them â she'd tell them that I was missing, that I had vanished on the way to Aurisola. That I was lost forever â¦
It would be a shock, no doubt. I thought â I even hoped â that Lucian might wonder where I was. But they wouldn't suspect anything. Who would, faced with Belladonna's crocodile tears, her supposed anxiety, her supposed grief? They'd be sad. But they'd not ask too many questions. Belladonna would get away with it â¦
No! I told myself fiercely. I will not allow that to happen. Belladonna thinks I'm dead, and that is my one chance. I started to formulate a plan. As soon as Rasmus came back, I would ask â I would beg â for messages to be sent to Emilia and to Lucian. I'd tell them the truth, but that I'm safe. Somehow, together, after I found my father and made sure he was safe and well, we could work out a way to unmask Belladonna.
It was a plan of a sort â a rather weak sort. But the only plan I had, for the moment. And just imagining it made me feel a little more in control of my fate â
My thoughts were interrupted by Verakina bursting into the room. There were two red spots on her cheeks and her eyes glittered. âThere you are. Come at once. Rasmus is back.'
âAlready?' We hadn't expected him back till the late afternoon and it was only midday. He'd only been gone four hours.
âAlready,' she echoed, and by her tone I knew at once that this was not a good thing.
âWhat happened? Is he all right?' I panted, trying to keep up with her on my crutches.
âHe's all right,' she answered. âBut the message â' She broke off.
âWhat about it? Verakina, you must tell me!'
âHe ⦠He didn't send it.'
âWhy not?' I cried. âIn heaven's name, what happened?'
She halted and turned to face me and I saw that the glitter in her eyes was the shine of tears.
âI'm sorry, Bianca, my dear. I truly am.'
My heart dropped like a stone and my blood turned to ice. I saw in her eyes what she'd been afraid to tell me.
âNo â¦' I whispered. âNo, it can't be ⦠It can't be true ⦠It can't â¦'
My legs were giving way under me and if Verakina hadn't hurried to my side to prop me up, I would have fallen.
I don't know how I managed to get back to the living room, how I did not scream from the pain that was tearing me apart. But as soon as I saw the expression on Rasmus's gaunt face, I knew the pain was only just beginning. Dumbly, I sat on a chair, my eyes on his face, as he stumbled through his words.
âI ⦠had only just got to Sarmest when I happened to catch sight of something at a newspaper stand â¦' He swallowed, and I had to push back a wild impulse to shake him, to tell him to get on with it, and at the same time to tell him to shut up, to stop wringing his hands, to go away and save me from hearing the worst of all news.
He shot a desperate look at Verakina.
She said, gently, âCome on, Rasmus. Bianca needs to know.'
âOf ⦠Of course,' he stammered. âI don't usually take notice of newspapers, but â¦' He ran a hand nervously through his thinning hair. â⦠It was the name, you see ⦠I ⦠I would never have known, if it weren't for the name â¦' He broke off and looked at me. âAngels defend me, but I can't say it. Here.' And he put a hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of newsprint, obviously an article ripped out from the front page of a newspaper, and handed it to me without a word.
It was dated two days ago. âSir Anton Dalmatin Murdered in Poison Plot,' read the headline. And in smaller letters, under that, âSecretary Arrested, Commits Suicide.'
It was as though the world had stopped. I heard nothing and I saw nothing. Nothing, except for the dreadful words that in a single instant broke my heart.
It has been confirmed that Sir Anton Dalmatin, known throughout the world as the King of Elegance, was poisoned to death in a ghastly plot that was masterminded by his trusted secretary, Hans Reinart.
Sir Anton, who was on a business visit to Aurisola with Reinart, was suddenly taken ill and died after days of agony. It was thought at first that he had succumbed to a particularly virulent form of influenza which had been sweeping the region and had it not been for the suspicions of his widow, Lady Belladonna Dalmatin, he would have been buried as an unfortunate victim of illness. Lady Dalmatin, however, suspected foul play, and in a sensational statement begged the Aurisolan authorities to conduct an autopsy on her husband. When this was performed, the presence of a rare poison called Vertini was at once discovered in his organs. Vertini is made from the concentrated venom of the deadly vertin viper. Vertini leaves a bright green trace in internal organs but leaves no external traces on the victim's body. Had it not been for Lady Dalmatin's suspicions, this crime would never have been discovered.
Suspicion quickly fell on Sir Anton's secretary, Hans Reinart, and when his belongings were searched, a forged will naming him as sole inheritor of the Dalmatin estate was discovered, along with an empty vial containing minute traces of the Vertini poison. Reinart had no explanation for how the vial came to be in his possession and
was arrested immediately. Before he could be properly questioned, however, he was discovered dead in his cell. It seems that he shot himself using a tiny revolver that he had concealed in his boot. A very short written confession was also found in the cell. It had just five words: âI killed Sir Anton Dalmatin', and the handwriting matched Reinart's perfectly. Considering the forged will discovered in his possession, it appears that the very large Dalmatin fortune was what motivated Reinart to commit this dreadful crime.
The body of Sir Anton Dalmatin is on its way back to Lepmest, Noricia, where a state funeral will be held in his honour on Thursday.
My skin prickled with cold. I looked up. Rasmus and Verakina were watching me anxiously.
âBianca, we're so sorâ' began Verakina, but I held up a hand to stop her.
I saw Rasmus and Verakina exchanging a worried look. I saw it, but it didn't affect me. My whole body was numb, as if encased in a shroud of ice, the pain of my father's death crushing my heart. I would never see him again. Never hear his voice. Never laugh with him. Nothing ⦠Ever again. How could I bear it?
And then, on the heels of the pain and grief, came other things. Rage. Hatred. White-hot, fierce, burning. And I knew it wasn't Reinart.
âThe forged will was discovered in his possession â¦' I echoed the article, and my voice seemed to come from very far away. âShe did it,' I continued, and the words came from deep inside me. âBelladonna â my stepmother â she
arranged it all. My father's murder. And Reinart's â she made sure that he would take the blame.
âTwo days ago â¦' I went on.
Rasmus and Verakina looked at me in bewilderment.
âTwo days ago, this piece is dated,' I repeated. âWhat did today's newspaper say?'
When Rasmus didn't answer, I couldn't help but curse. âDevil take you! Don't tell me you didn't go looking for one!'
He shot me a miserable look. âYes, but â¦'
âI need to see it,' I said, fighting to keep my voice steady, to control the dark waves of wild rage sweeping through my body.
âGive it to her, Rasmus,' said Verakina, quietly.
He reached inside his pocket and pulled out not a newspaper but a copy of the
Mirror
. âSpecial Edition' was emblazoned across the top.
âBianca â¦' Rasmus began.
But I wasn't listening. Snatching the magazine from him, I stared at the picture on the front page. It was a candid photograph of me at the Presentation Ball. I was sitting down, looking into the distance. I remembered that moment. It was just before Lucian had asked me to dance.
Underneath the picture, the caption read: âTragic Fate of Fairest Lady.'
Something had happened to Belladonna? A savage sort of pleasure flared up inside me. But then, why had my picture been used, not hers?
I turned the page. There was an article with the same title, written by Sommer Malling.
In a tragic twist, it has been revealed that Lady Bianca Dalmatin, only child of murdered businessman Sir Anton Dalmatin, has been missing for nearly two days. Grave fears are held for her safety.
It is known that Lady Bianca had been on her way to Aurisola to see her father, who had sent for her in the final days of his illness, and that she had arrived safely in Mormest in order to catch the steamer to Aurisola. An innkeeper in Mormest testified that she had arrived on horseback, ordered tea, and told him she was going to the steamer office afterwards. The ticket-office clerk confirmed that a young woman matching Lady Bianca's description had indeed bought a ticket for a first-class cabin. âShe hardly spoke a word, and seemed sad,' he said.
The steamer had sailed before news of Sir Anton's death became widely known in Mormest, and so Lady Dalmatin attempted to contact her stepdaughter via the steamer's telegraph service. As Lady Bianca had not been out of her cabin at all during the trip, the message was slipped in under the door but when the ship docked the next morning in Aurisola and was met by the Norician ambassador, who was to escort her to his home, it was discovered that the young woman had vanished. Her light luggage was in the cabin and the telegram informing her of her father's death lay crumpled on the bed, but Lady Bianca herself had disappeared. A thorough search of the vessel for clues of her whereabouts revealed a scarf belonging to Lady Bianca, lying in a corner of the steamer deck. It is feared that, through accident or otherwise, the poor young woman had fallen from the deck into the sea. An inquest will be held into the matter.
In a brief exclusive interview with the
Mirror,
Sir Anton Dalmatin's widow, Lady Dalmatin, said that she hoped there would be no ill-informed speculation in the press about her stepdaughter's tragic fate. But it was true that Lady Bianca was fragile, she said. Lady Bianca had been âabsolutely distraught' upon receiving the telegram informing her of her father's illness. âI begged her to reconsider her decision to go and see her father, for I was afraid she'd arrive too late and feared that this would quite disturb the balance of her mind.'
Only this week, the
Mirror
made the sensational decision to award the title of Fairest Lady to the beautiful young woman Lady Bianca Dalmatin as a worthy successor to Lady Belladonna Dalmatin. It was a decision endorsed by the previously crowned Fairest Lady herself: âIt gives me the greatest pleasure to know that Bianca learnt before leaving for Aurisola that she had been crowned Fairest Lady. I thank you for that, for giving her a bright moment in the darkness.'
I could hardly hold back my tears of mingled sorrow and admiration as I left my interview with Lady Belladonna Dalmatin. Stoical and dignified in the face of the terrible grief she is facing at the loss of both her husband and her stepdaughter in such terrible circumstances, generous in her words and deeds, Lady Dalmatin once again displays the qualities of heart and spirit that have made her such a beloved figure in our land.