The Queen and the Nobody Boy (12 page)

“Princessa, you can trust Murgott,” Hodie said. “Um … he's admired you since he first saw you. He wrote a poem the third day you were at the Grand Palace. I sneaked a look.”

A blush spread over Lu'nedda's face. She seemed really pretty for a moment. Murgott blushed too and even he looked rather sweet, though upset that Hodie should have read his notebook.

“Besides, pirates always side with the winner, and you've definitely won,” Hodie continued.

Lu'nedda nodded at the ogre. There was a click as the manacles came off the Corporal.

Hodie's leg was hurting – not much, but it still made a good excuse. He needed to say something only Murgott would hear. He let himself slide sort-of sideways, and leaned on Murgott. His mother was watching but he avoided her gaze. “My leg's sore,” he said quietly to the Corporal. “But I really want to say, I trust you.” It was actually true.

“I haven't been the nicest of men to you, boy.” Something like kindness showed in Murgott's eyes.

Hodie's own eyes hadn't worked properly for hours, not since he'd seen the sketch on the napkin in the canteen. But the sketch was right – the drawstring bag had been in Ogg'ward's hold-all. Now it lay on his mother's table, within Hodie's reach, and was supposed to hold The Ties.

Allana stood up as if she was going to come and see if Hodie was all right.

“And we're the only ones who can save the Queen,” he whispered quickly to Murgott. “And maybe save magic. If magic exists. Of course it doesn't, and the Queen doesn't think so either.”

“I've seen it at work, boy. The Queen is on the brink of it. I'll believe in it for you as well as me. Now,” Murgott said. “Think tactics. Tactics is a recipe for success. I want you to faint.”

Hodie kept his head turned away from his mother. “My leg got sliced on the Bridge of Teeth.”

“Good,” muttered Murgott, “if you understand me. It will mean the ladies don't take too much notice of you-know-who still in the bathroom. And it will take the ladies' minds right off that bag.”

All of a sudden he grabbed Hodie's shoulders. “Shiver me timbers! The boy's collapsing.”

So, tactics at work. Hodie let himself slide out of Murgott's hands and down to the floor. His mother rushed to his side.

“Good lad,” he heard Murgott mutter.

~

Murgott lugged Hodie to the sofa and laid him flat. “What's this? Look at the boy's leg! Disinfectant! Bandages!”

Eyes shut, Hodie heard Allana knock on the bathroom door.

“I haven't finished yet!” shouted Sibilla like a cross little boy.

Allana ordered an ogre to fetch a medical kit.

“He should'a told me earlier about this cut,” grumbled the Corporal, mopping gently at Hodie's calf. “But I've seen worse things by far at sea. I've seen worse things in a kitchen too.”

Hodie felt someone with slim fingers – his mother – take his boots off and make angry exclamations about how full of holes they were. Well, whose fault was that?

“Listen,” hissed Murgott in his ear. “What you heard about The Ties – do not mention it to the Queen unless you're absolutely sure not a soul can overhear. She might do something reckless. I'd make bets on it. Orright?”

Hodie nodded. He heard the bathroom door at last, and opened his eyes. His mother, looking ferocious, was hovering about with a bandage. Sibilla – cleaner in the face and with her cap on tight – peered down at his leg.

“Yucky! Blood!” she said with a small boy's relish.

Hodie's mother and Murgott finished bandaging his leg. He did feel better after the lie-down. He refused to meet his mother's eye, though, and eventually she sat back at her work table, hand on her forehead. Murgott went and spoke quietly with her. She'd be trying to tell Murgott she wasn't a spy. Lu'nedda went for her turn in the bathroom, probably scrubbing off the remains of glue from the false moustache.

Sibilla took her own bag into a corner and rummaged out the bits of Jasper's bird. She fitted part of it together, frowned, and showed Hodie.

“Borrow Murgott's pocket-knife,” he whispered.

With the little screwdriver and pliers, he and Sibilla worked out where to put a tiny metal coil, and the bird's head fitted like … no, that didn't work. The squirrel crept over. It nudged a silver coil with a paw, then a silver screw, a golden nut, a tiny bolt, three small shards of dark red stone – jasper, like the King's name – that went where a real bird would have its heart. Whenever Sibilla touched the bird, the metal felt almost alive in Hodie's grasp. It was just her warm hands, of course. Nothing magic.

He still refused to even look in Allana's direction. She hugged her arms around herself, and stood out on a little balcony, her back to the room.

At last Sibilla held the bird up, back together except for tail feathers. “It can't fly without some,” she murmured.

The squirrel
tck-tcked
, then turned its back and fluffed its tail.

“Good idea,” said Hodie.

With a pair of Allana's scissors, Sibilla snipped three of the least ragged strands from the squirrel's tail and held them to the metal bird's rear end. A lot less than perfect. But with a dab of Allana's glue the strands held firm. Sibilla ferreted through the bits and pieces on the work table, and found three small green feathers to add to the rear attachment.

Allana came back in when Lu'nedda returned from the bathroom, ringlets bouncing. “Children playing so nicely,” Lu'nedda said. “It is good for child to have friend. I never had friend till I was ten.” She smiled at Allana, who smiled back as if it was something of a strain.

Sibilla crept behind the sofa and Hodie heard her whisper to the bird. “Jasper, Prowdd'on has the dragon-eagle. I saw it. I think that's why he left Fontania so fast. I'm in Um'Binnia…” Her head popped up near Hodie's. “How will the bird get out of here?” she whispered.

“Keep it hidden till we find a way,” he whispered back.

Murgott's eye was on him and Hodie remembered he had promised not to tell the Queen about The Ties. But, if he had a chance, he could whisper to the bird himself. King Jasper ought to know.

The Princessa was saying something to his mother. “Your boy must have new boots. Fine leather boots.”

Hodie grabbed his battered ones and shoved his feet in. “I've got these!” He stood up, but the string around the soles fell apart at his first step.

“We can argue later,” his mother said to him. “We both need time.” She sounded very much like Lady Helen talking to her children. Maybe all mothers sounded like that. “The children need food. Lu'nedda, you too. Lunch time.”

There was no point in a Queen not eating. No point in Hodie starving, either. Lunch was a small choice, but a good one to make right now.

~

Hodie sat at the table in his holey socks, a plate of scrambled eggs steaming in front of him. He screwed up his nose. Allana took his fork – did she want to feed him? He grabbed it back, tested the eggs and decided that once you got used to it, warm food was fairly nice. The others were eating scrambled eggs as well. Murgott pushed his about as if he would have done a better job of cooking them.

What was going to happen next? Where was his father? And, at the right moment, Hodie or Murgott had to tell Sibilla what the Um'Binnians thought was in the bag. Not now, because his mother watched him across the table. She'd been worried about his leg – it had felt strange to see that, actually, and Hodie wasn't sure if he liked it or not. Anyway she was still a traitor. And a spy. But how nice it would be to have a moment with a normal mother and say, “Have you heard from Dad lately? How is he doing?” or, “I finally figured out how to use a hacksaw,” and other normal things that Hodie had heard families (even royal ones) chat about.

Lu'nedda finished her lunch and rushed into another room, where there was plenty of rustling. Hodie saw a red high-heeled boot bowl over the floor, several hats, an orange net petticoat with layers of ribbons.

From where Hodie sat, he could also see the old bag, still on the work table. The missing Ties? What a laugh. A battered cup, mouldy old beads and a useful spanner.

As he stared at it, frowning, the bag twitched. Hodie blinked. Then, through the closed drawstring, something black and whiskery appeared. It was the fake moustache! Hodie blinked again. It crept out like a slow, medium-sized guinea pig, then crawled down the table leg and away under a cupboard. Hodie put a hand over his eyes – he must be suffering from travel weariness and too many shocks.

He looked up again at the sound of more rustling. Lu'nedda appeared in a very big blue and pink Um'Binnian frock. She wore a top hat made of pink net stuff, and pink fingerless mittens. Her blue boots had sparkly laces (maybe with sapphires), and her stockings had a sequin stripe. Hodie heard Murgott take in a breath as if he was about to sneeze (though more likely it was another poem coming on).

Lu'nedda looked determined and excited. She clapped her hands once. An ogre entered. “I am ready for reunion with my father, Great Prowdd'on. My father knows I am back, and safe and well? My father wait for his daughter, Princessa Lu'nedda?”

The ogre looked as if he braved a sudden stomach pain. “Princessa, I try before lunch to tell him you are here. Gree'sle say Emperor is not to be bother.”

“Hmmm.” Lu'nedda gave a tight smile. “The Emperor has great city to control and war to fight. He is supremely busy.”

The ogre bowed. “Princessa, Emperor has gone to Great Zoo. To open magnificent new cage. Biggest cage yet.”

The Princessa looked pleased and even more determined. “I will go there unexpectedly and over-joy him in front of crowd. I will announce what I have brought for him. He will be excited and in great expectation. He will think I risk my life to get dear father what heart desires.”

Hodie's mother didn't look as if she agreed, but Lu'nedda smoothed her fingers in the lacy pink mittens. “Now, my only friend must come with me. And her son, who now lives with us. Get boy ready, Allana, and yourself.” She looked at Murgott and Sibilla (in her cap) and made a face. “Bother. How to keep eye on tag-alongs? They must come too. But little boy must take cap off when he sees Prowdd'on.”

“Y'know what kids are like, ma'am.” Murgott touched his forehead in a little salute. “Lay a finger on that cap and he throws a first-rate tantrum.”

Sibilla looked slightly shocked, then very pleased.

“In that case, keep nasty little boy well under thumb and out of sight.” Lu'nedda rearranged the flounces on her skirt and admired her own boots.

Hodie's mother came to help him off the chair. He didn't need help. He didn't want her to touch him. Her hands were gentle, her scent warm as he remembered, like a flower. He shrugged her away. His leg only hurt a little bit. So he should be able to get away, to help Murgott get Sibilla out of Um'Binnia.

“We might be wise to dress both boys as Um'Binnian, Lu'nedda,” said Hodie's mother. “And there is a chance that Gree'sle could recognise Murgott.”

“Gree'sle –
ugh
!
” Lu'nedda said. “Disguise. Useful idea.”

Allana considered Sibilla. “We could disguise you as a girl. Now your face is cleaner, it could work well.”

“Yuck! A girl!” Sibilla made a strangling sound as if she was going to throw up.

Murgott's face had gone sweaty again. Hodie had gone sweaty too. “Tantrum,” Murgott said. “That's just the first stage.”

Lu'nedda tossed a narrow-brimmed Um'Binnian hat at Murgott and gave him a brown cloak. She gave Hodie a cap, and cloaks to Sibilla and Hodie, dark green ones that came halfway down Hodie's calves but reached Sibilla's ankles.

An ogre fetched Hodie new socks, and a pair of brown boots with studs and ankle straps. Far better than Murgott's best ones. Hodie found himself stroking the leather and wiggling his toes to settle them in. Then he noticed Murgott noticing, and stopped.

Lu'nedda threw a dark blue cape around her shoulders and buttoned it over her bright dress. “I am in disguise too, till I am revealed. Now come,” said the Princessa. “Allana, put cape on, and off we go to Great Zoo.”

“No,” Hodie said, sweating like mad. “I have to leave the city now. This other boy and Murgott must come too. Thank you for the boots. And cloaks. Thank you for lunch,” he added.

“Leave …” Hodie's mother took a step towards him, then stopped with her hands in a double fist. “Leave the city?” She exchanged a glance with the Princessa. “Oh, Hodie – even if you could get out, there is only the mountain and the Great Salt Moat. Nobody can swim the Great Salt Moat.”

“I'm not frightened of the ocean.” Hodie looked right at his mother. Deep in her eyes he saw a flicker of something that surprised him and made him feel warm – a flicker that meant she was proud of him. This was a good moment about his mother. It would probably be the only one.

“But the Toads,” Murgott said, “the Ocean Toads …”

“Shut up.” Lu'nedda glared at Hodie, threw the apartment door open – then marched back to the work table. “I must make sure Gree'sle cannot sneak and notice this.” She slung the drawstring bag into a small cabinet, turned a tiny key on it and dropped the key in her handbag. She marched to the door again and waited, blue boot tapping.

The others crowded to the door. Hodie tested a few paces in his boots first, then caught up with Sibilla. She carried her bag with the bird in it. “How are your blisters?” he whispered.

“They've all popped,” she muttered. “Very gooey.”

It didn't take as long going down as it had coming up, but stairs were like that. The squirrel hopped between them like a mangy grey ghost. Why had it adopted them? Or had they adopted it? Some questions, Hodie knew, just couldn't be answered.

~