Mastiff

  “Not last night, I take it?” asked Farmer.

  My lady shook her head. “His attention kept wandering. He was tense, and he drank too much. He mentioned that this country is splendid for hunting, but he’s not getting to do nearly enough of that, and far too much talking. He told me it was a relief to have me as his partner at table. A relief to speak of simple things, like hunting, and fighting. And he asked me if I’d seen Their Majesties of late.”

  “Did he think you’d have been to the Summer Palace?” Tunstall wanted to know.

  Sabine shook her head a second time. “He seemed … worried.” She looked up at us. “Frightened.”

  Farmer and Tunstall traded looks, but it was Pounce who spoke. The men who guard the prince are worried for him, the cat said. The count and the men from Aspen Vale take him indoors. They allow none of the prince’s men to wait on him, but accept trays and pitchers from servants and wait on themselves. Sometimes they admit the countess to these meetings, and other guests who come here, but that’s all. When I glared at him, Pounce stretched gracefully and said, A cat hears what a cat hears.

  “They’re not going to want to let us go,” Farmer said quietly.

  “We’ll think of something,” replied Sabine. “Mattes will.” She smiled at Tunstall.

  He’d taken out his dagger and sharp-stone and gone to work on his belt knife. “You won’t be surprised, then, to know the count tried to bribe me to his service last night.”

  I said, “I saw you talking with them. A dust spinner lifted me up so I could look in the windows.” My hands were shaking. Dogs take bribes all the time, including Tunstall and me. This just seemed like a very bad moment to do so. “I thought you were refusing them.”

  “What manner of service do they want?” Sabine asked.

  “To turn on Their Majesties, of course, though I would not admit we were in search of the prince,” Tunstall replied, eyeing the edge of his blade. “I would not admit, nor would they admit they knew who we truly pursued, nor that they knew anything about the kidnapping. It was so civilized I was like to puke.”

  “You told them no,” Farmer said.

  Tunstall looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “I told them yes! With that Master Elyot sitting there with small lightings playing from hand to hand? I told them yes in my best Dozy Dog fashion, and I’ll thank you to think of a way to protect me, because they took a lock of my hair to ensure I’d be a good lad!” He looked at Farmer and me, his eyes sparkling as always when he’d fooled them that really should know better. “I said they’d best steer clear of you both, being you were Lord Gershom’s special pets. Seemingly His Highness had ordered them to leave you out of it, too, my dear. He has a soft spot for you.” Tunstall raised his brows. “Is there sommat I should know?”

  “I taught him how to trap rabbits when we were children,” Sabine retorted, smiling at Tunstall. “We’ve always been friends. Not so close as grown nobles, with me serving in the field and him at court or off doing the rounds of the kingdom, but we have a liking for each other, and not that kind, Master Jackanapes!”

  Tunstall looked at his knife and sheathed it. “He’s royal, and unwed.”

  “And wishes to stay so,” Sabine told him. “What did they offer you, to report on our movements and keep us from finding the prince?”

  “What else do folk like them offer folk like me? Wealth,” Tunstall replied. “Wealth and a title from the new king, since I aim higher than my station.”

  “You do not!” my lady cried. “That is, you do as far as they may be concerned, but I don’t care!”

  Tunstall’s smile was sidelong. “I had to tell them something to explain why I’d turn on Gershom, my dear,” he told her. “Wanting to marry above myself was what they expected, so that’s the excuse I gave.” He grimaced. “I can’t expect more than a barony, I was told, but should I do what is necessary to make it possible for a new monarch to rise …”

  “If you kill the prince, Their Majesties will die, and your new masters will be able to place the blood guilt squarely on your shoulders,” Farmer said, his voice very soft.

  Tunstall smirked. “They seem to believe I am too stupid, or too greedy, to have thought of that.”

  Farmer nodded his understanding. Then he added, “I’ll wager that every spell placed on Their Majesties to find anyone who attempts their murder will soon lead the realm’s Ferrets straight to you.”

  “I heard sommat like that could be done years ago,” Tunstall admitted. “I believe they thought I was too stupid to know that, too.”

  Sabine’s hands were fists, her face white with rage. “I should kill all of them now.”

  “We pass their names to Gershom as soon as we get clear of Elyot’s spells,” Farmer told her firmly. “We do not let them know we are aware of their tricks. As long as they feel Tunstall’s their man, that lad is safe. They can watch Their Majesties weaken as the prince is enslaved and know that all is well.”

  The first servants were emerging from the castle. Tunstall looked at them, rubbing his beard. “Well, leaving will be a trick,” he admitted. “They want to keep us here a few days more. To let the slavers with the prince get more distance from us, would be my guess.”

  “We’ll find a way out,” Sabine told him. “I have something I’d like to try.” She rose and kissed Tunstall on the forehead.

  My partner stood and kissed her back. “We must leave here today,” he said. “They know we found traces of our lad here. They’ll be wondering how much else we know.” We all nodded. It was nothing we hadn’t already worked out.

  Farmer scratched a couple of signs in the dirt, then broke the powder circle by drawing his foot across it. “They’ll think we’re servants until we’re inside,” he said. “Let’s go to breakfast, then see what the count has in store for us. Or rather, you go ahead. I have something to attend to.”

  Most of the castle servants had already begun their work, breakfast being whatever they could fit in their pockets. In the hall, Master Niccols made certain that I sat a good distance from the young ladies again, while Tunstall returned to the far side and the company of the mages and the steward. Lady Sabine was given her seat next to Prince Baird once more.

  Between the common men and the ladies-in-waiting stretched a wide open space. The area filled with two more rows of tables last night was empty now. Coming from our talk, I felt lonelier for my companions than I’d been the night before. Pounce climbed on the bench at my side again and ate whatever I fed him, leaning against me in a comfortable way. Achoo stayed at my feet. She had company there. The countess’s ladies had brought their Butterfly Puppies to breakfast. They were extraordinarily well behaved little creatures. I would not even have known they were present, had they not been frolicking around Achoo under the table. I heard repeated soft finger snaps and whispered names as their mistresses summoned their pets back to them. When they realized what was going on, more than a few of them actually smiled at me. I couldn’t help it. I smiled back. It’s hard to dislike anyone who loves her creatures as much as these young noblewomen did.

  Breakfast was a short meal, happily. I felt an itching in my skin, a knowing that the lad drew further from us each day. I also feared what measures these mighty folk might take to keep us here. Farmer had done a number of tricks that looked good, like returning the seeming of life to the dead, whilst shattering the magical barricade appeared to point to some strength in his budget. Still, there were other mages here. Master Elyot was known to have great power, and the count’s own mage ought to be good for sommat. A count bold-faced enough to plot against his king would surely have a strong mage at his back. That left three unknowns, unless Farmer had turned up gossip or better about them.

  I was half tempted to take Achoo and see if I might bargain with Fess to set us over the castle wall. We’d be on our way, and the others could catch up. I’d never tried such a thing with a spinner before, but first times tell the tale, Granny Fern always says.

  As I laid m
isty plans, strangers entered the hall, taking seats on the benches at the lower ends of the tables that remained. Servants rushed to clear away the breakfast things. Clerks set books and documents before the count and his lady, while Master Niccols stood behind the count, a tall staff in one hand and a document in the other. The priest and priestess who had done the prayers the night before moved in, the priest to stand at the count’s right hand, the priestess at the right hand of the countess.

  Tunstall had slipped away at some point while I was dreaming of escape. He returned now with documents of his own, Farmer behind him. I noticed Lady Sabine had risen from her seat beside Prince Baird and was walking around the men’s side of the hall. All of them looked grim and determined. My heart lifted. Mayhap we could get out of this den of traitors together. That would be so much better than me going out in a world that seemingly had villains behind every tree, or spending more time here.

  “Achoo, tumit,” I whispered, getting to my feet. With Achoo and Pounce I went to join the others of my Hunt at the side of the hall opposite the prince, the count, and the countess.

  A big cove in a tunic trimmed with marten fur stepped around us, glaring our way as he walked by. Master Niccols proclaimed, “Parris Eckard, silk merchant—”

  Tunstall strode forward, seized the merchant by one arm, and dragged him back, saying, “No, my buck, your matter can wait.”

  The merchant began to sputter. Farmer tapped him on the back. When Eckard turned to bellow at him, Farmer put a finger to his own lips, as if he said hush, but finger and lips were sparkling blue. The sparkling fire leaped to Eckard’s mouth, silencing him completely. When Niccols opened his mouth, no doubt to call the guards on us, Farmer made the same shushing gesture at him. In that moment Farmer’s magic appeared at Niccols’s mouth, stopping the words before they could emerge.

  “Now, see here, Cape,” Master Elyot cried from his seat, “you can’t go about silencing the count’s subjects!”

  “I can’t?” our mage asked, as innocent as the day. “I’m sorry.” The glow on the merchant vanished. “Do you want to speak?” Farmer asked him politely. “I’m very sorry I was rude.”

  The merchant, frightened by that touch of magic, fled the room.

  Farmer turned toward the dais. “I am sorry,” he explained, “but we must leave here. The more days that pass, the more danger to our quarry.”

  Tunstall walked up to the dais, Lady Sabine and Pounce at his side. The nobles, prince, countess, and all, were on their feet, the count and countess red with outrage. As Farmer, Achoo, and I went closer to the dais, Farmer whispered in my ear, “Linnet was killed in a wood room not far from the kitchens. Elyot was there.”

  For a moment I stared at Elyot, wondering how it felt to kill a little girl, or to watch that murder. I doubted he’d done the actual deed, when I’d had a moment to think. He could have managed it with no sign of murder at all, without using the present I had made her. I knew they’d used the pads to strangle Linnet as a warning to anyone who might find her, so it was possible Elyot had killed her like that, but my tripes said no. After four years of dealing with Rats, I’d learned that when mages murder, they prefer to do it with their Gift. It keeps their hands clean of death’s stains. They seldom use their hands when their Gift will do for them. I’ve not shared this idea with Farmer, though.

  Elyot struck me as the worst of mages, strong, arrogant, and selfish. Someone else had strangled Linnet as he watched.

  Tunstall knelt to the prince. So did the rest of us. Then Tunstall got to his feet again, which drew a gasp of shock from many of those watching. Farmer, Sabine, and I got to our feet, too. We bowed to the count and the countess when Tunstall did, and straightened when he did. He was our leader and he was making it plain that our orders put us outside the usual requirements for rank with these people.

  Tunstall said, “Your Highness, my lord count, Farmer has said the truth. Our mission is urgent.” When the prince, the count, and the countess waited, Tunstall went on, “We have learned that our quarry has been here and is here no longer. How this came to pass must be investigated at another time, by other officials. We must follow the track of our quarry immediately. We are already a day behind. Thus, we take our leave of you, with thanks for your hospitality.”

  He bowed, as did the rest of us.

  He is wonderful when he talks as if he were gently raised, Pounce remarked from his position by my right foot. I am always surprised when he does it, and always delighted.

  It is as I always tell you, hestaka, I heard Tunstall think, with Pounce’s help, A good Dog learns all manner of tools. Farmer and Lady Sabine held their bows a little longer than need be to hide grins. I love it when Pounce makes it possible for others to hear entire conversations this way. It makes me feel that they believe I’m not mad when I talk with him in my mind.

  “I differ,” the count said.

  We all snapped upright.

  “I am not easy in my mind about these nebulous orders,” he continued. “You have taken them to mean that you may poke into any corner of my home, when the Great Charter expressly states that no officer of the Crown may interfere with the operation of a noble domain.”

  “We have not interfered in any way,” Tunstall said, holding out our documents. “And we operate under orders bearing the seal of the Lord Provost himself.” He pointed to the seals. “By that same charter, you are required to grant and give aid to officers of the Provost’s Guard when those officers are on an officially designated Hunt.”

  I was so full of pride in Tunstall I nearabout burst. He was forever telling me how useful it was to listen in the justice court, and there was the proof of it. He spoke like an advocate.

  The count leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers before his chin. “As it happens, I question the authenticity of those seals.”

  I heard a gasp. I’m fairly certain it came from Lady Sabine, who stood in front of me. She stiffened. I saw her right hand go to the hilt of her sword, while armsmen posted behind the dais came alert.

  The count went on, “I wish to verify your mission with Lord Gershom. Now, my own mage tells me, and Master Elyot, that for some reason, we are unable to communicate with any mages, even those nearby. Master Farmer, have you tried to do so?”

  Farmer hung his head. It was not the Farmer I’d talked with all morning who replied. “It’s not my long suit, sir—”

  I couldn’t help it. He’d sucked me into his silly games. I leaned close and whispered, “My lord!” loud enough that others could hear me. Sabine half turned and gave us a scowl while Prince Baird covered a grin with his hand.

  “My lord,” Farmer said sheepishly as he shrugged at me. “I’ve not reached anyone I should be able to reach. Mayhap it’s like a storm, only in the realms where magic comes from?” He looked at Master Elyot as if that leech’s whelp would answer.

  Master Elyot shrugged. “I don’t understand it, my lord, but these things do happen, and there are times when we never learn why. I am unable to reach His Highness’s mage at our home estates, let alone the Chancellor of Mages in Corus.”

  “Then I will send horse messengers to Corus and to Arenaver,” the count said. “Since your documents claim the Deputy Provost there will also confirm your Hunt. It will be but a matter of a few days for word to return from Arenaver.”

  Not with the marsh bridge down, and you know it, I thought. It was Lady Sabine who cried, “We informed you that the bridge over the marshes has been burned! It will be ten days at least before a courier returns, and who knows what will befall our quarry in that time?”

  It was as if she had signaled the young ladies of the countess’s solar. They rose to their feet in twos and threes, Lewyth and Baylisa leading them as they rushed over to halt in front of us, facing the prince, the count, and the countess. As one they dropped to their knees and raised clasped hands to the nobles.

  “Please, Highness, my lord and my lady, please do not hinder them any longer!” Lewyth said, her
voice loud enough for the entire hall to hear. “Forgive our intrusion, we mean no harm or impertinence, but hear our plea!”

  Another miss cried, “We know their Hunt! We know a poor lad of tender blood and rearing has been taken from his mother by villains and poorly used!”

  It was Baylisa who begged, “In the name of the Gentle Mother, let them rescue that poor stolen lad!”

  “In the name of the Gentle Mother we pray!” said the maidens, bending their heads over their hands.

  “We don’t understand things like seals and politics.” That was another of the young ladies. “But surely a mother’s pain must override these worldly considerations. Surely a child’s agony must take first place in your hearts!”

  I knelt down beside Achoo as if to keep her calm when, truth to tell, I wanted to bray like a mule with laughter. I hid my face in Achoo’s fur. This was Lady Sabine’s plan, the one that had led to that early-morning conversation with the young ladies! How had she known what to say that would work them into such a frenzy of devotion? Surely never in the ordinary course of things would they have spoken out before men, and in defiance of the count!