'Where?'
She was startled by the voice. 'Where what?'
You said I could touch you,' the young lad said. 'Where ' should I...'
Elena stared at him blankly. Finally in desperation she muttered, Why don't you kiss me instead?'
He threw himself at her, pressing his lips tightly against hers. He began to move his mouth in a vague chewing action. His hot, sweaty hands grabbed at her neck as he tried clumsily to pull her tighter.
Staring over his shoulder, Elena suddenly froze. A man was sauntering across the garden towards Ma Margot. She was certain she knew the walk, but as he passed by one of the trees, the full light of the lantern shone on his face. It was Hugh.
The lad had given up his attempt at kissing and had tentatively slid a hand on to her kirtle over her breast, but Elena was too scared even to register this. She watched in horror as Hugh reached Ma's throne where, as if she really was a queen, he made a bow and pressed her hand to his lips. If this was mockery, Ma evidently didn't treat it as such, for she rewarded him with a smile and sent a girl scurrying for a goblet of wine and a plate of pastries.
It was evident that whatever she had intended when she said Hugh would pay dearly for what he had done to Finch, she wasn't going to let it interfere with business. From the way she leaned towards him as she fed him one of the prick- shaped pastries, slipping it into his mouth with her own taloned fingers, you might have thought he had never laid a hand on Finch. No doubt, Elena thought bitterly, what Ma meant was that she would simply double or treble the price, because Hugh had damaged her goods, but she'd still let him use her boys as he pleased.
Finch! Any moment Hugh might ask for him. Elena pushed the lad's hand away.
'Stay there,' she said, trying to sound as casual as possible. 'I'll fetch you some good strong wine to relax you, then I'll. . . we'll do things that will make your brother so jealous, he'll never laugh at you again.'
The boy beamed at her, and tried to lounge back nonchalantly on the pallet, but without success. Elena hurried to the bush she had pointed out to Finch earlier that day. She gazed desperately around for him, nodding in case he could see her. But there was still no sign of him. She could only pray he'd seen her and had already gone to the boys' chamber.
She waited as long as she dared, then when Ma was bending forward to say something to Hugh, she slipped back behind the bush and through the gate which divided the courtyard from the garden, edging along the wall towards the boys' chamber. There was no one in the courtyard. The sounds of the music mingling with laughter and chatter which rose up from the garden only seemed to heighten the stillness of the courtyard. The lanterns dangling from the topmost branches of the trees in the garden threw soft pools of light on to the flinty cobbles. Elena edged around the light as a man might avoid quicksand.
She had almost reached the door when she saw someone else enter the courtyard by the gate. Footsteps hurried across. Elena froze, suddenly realizing that she could not offer any explanation as to why she was standing in front of the boys' chamber. She started back towards the gate at a run and collided with Luce coming towards her.
'Hey, steady there.' Luce grabbed Elena's arm to stop herself slipping on the cobbles. 'You seen Finch? Ma wants him, but I reckon the lad's hiding somewhere, doesn't want to be found.'
Elena shook her head, unable to trust herself to speak.
Luce groaned. 'There'll be hell to pay if I can't find him. Ma won't want any of her guests disappointed tonight, specially him. That gentleman's not the type to go quietly if he can't get what he wants, and Ma doesn't need a bear roaring through the beehives, not tonight. I'd best see if Finch is in the boys' chamber.'
This time it was Elena who caught her arm. 'No, don't waste your time. He's not in there. I was looking for him too and I checked there. You know Finch, he's always hungry. Why don't you check the kitchens? He's probably hanging round the cooks. I'll look in the sleeping quarters.'
'Kitchens, yes, you're right. With that pretty little face of his, he could wheedle food from the king's own plate. Those cooks are probably stuffing him like a capon.'
She turned to go, then looked back at Elena. 'I know you feel sorry for the lad, Holly, but if you find him, you'd best take him to Ma straight away, even if he begs you not to. It'll be worse for him in the long run if he makes a fool out of her. She doesn't take kindly to that. You've not seen Ma in a rage and you'd best pray to every saint in heaven, and the Devil too, that you never do.'
Elena waited until Luce was out of sight, then ran back to the boys' chamber and slipped inside. It was as dark as a grave, for the boys were not expected to entertain in there tonight and not even the fire had been lit in the pit. She groped her way forward, using the partitions between the stalls as her guide. When she judged herself almost at the back of the room, she called out Softly, 'Finch, Finch, are you there? It's me, El. .. Holly.'
Almost at once she felt a small cold hand slip into hers.
'Where have you been? I've waited ages and ages. I thought you weren't coming.'
'I'm here now.' She squeezed the little fingers gently. 'Can you find the door in the dark?'
'Course I can.' He sounded more confident than she'd ever heard him, just like any cocky little village boy. She felt his body taut beside her, but knew from his tone and the urgent tugging of his hand that his tension came from excitement, not fear. She guessed he hadn't seen Hugh arrive. He didn't know they were looking for him.
She swallowed hard. 'We must hurry, Finch, there isn't much time.'
They found the burning torch half-way down the cellar steps as before and Elena lifted it out of its bracket. Although she knew exactly what to expect now, still that raw stench of savage beasts made her stomach contract. She dreaded passing them. Would Finch be able to walk past that great cat after what had happened? But he didn't turn towards the cages. Instead he tugged her towards the side of the stairs and the open hole in the floor with its hollow drip, drip of water.
'Careful,' Finch warned.
He pulled her back against the wet slimy wall as they inched around it. The slippery flags beneath Elena's feet sloped at a perilous angle towards the great black hole. Finally they reached the back of the staircase. Finch darted forward and grabbed at something. Elena held up the burning torch and saw a thick piece of sacking hanging against the wall. Finch held it aside and at once a new smell of mud and rotting fish billowed towards them on an icy current of air. In front of them was a tunnel, sloping downwards away from the cellar. Like the other, it curved round, so that Elena couldn't see the end.
'Down there, that's the river and the gate,' Finch whispered.
Elena suddenly remembered the blazing torch in her hands. Once they reached the end of the tunnel anyone on the river or the bank would see its flame for miles in the darkness.
'Finch, we have to put the torch back. If Talbot comes and finds it missing he'll guess someone is down here.'
Elena knew she should be the one to replace the torch in its bracket on the stairs, but she couldn't go back there, not if it meant returning here in the dark. She was terrified that one false step and she would fall into that hole. Without a light, how could she even see where it was?
Finch hesitated, but only for a minute. 'You stay here. I can find my way in the dark. Done it hundreds of times.' But his voice was trembling.
She wanted to stop him. She knew that she should, but she couldn't. She let him take the torch from her hands.
You'll stay here, Holly, won't you?' he begged her. You promise you won't go without me? You'll wait for me?'
As the boy slipped under the sacking, Elena stood rigid in a darkness so thick that it seemed to suck the very air from her mouth. She pressed herself against the dripping wall. She was back in that pit, next to Gerard's coffin, chained by the neck, screaming and screaming and yet knowing that not a sound was escaping from her lips. Again she heard the grating of the trapdoor opening and Raffaele's voice calling to her, Raffaele's
hand bringing her light and freedom. What would he say when he found her gone? He had told her time and again to trust him, and everything which had gone wrong in her life had been because she hadn't gone to him, hadn't trusted him.
Elena tried to force the memories down, to silence Raffaele's voice in her head. Above her, even now, Luce was searching for Finch, Talbot too probably, and maybe others. Hugh would be growing impatient. It would only be a matter of time before Ma sent Talbot to search the cellars. Elena shivered. It was so cold down here. Where was Finch? Suppose he'd fallen into that hole or was standing in the darkness, too frightened to move? What if he couldn't find the entrance to the tunnel? She would have to go out there. She'd have to find him.
Elena felt a cold waft of air on her skin as the sacking curtain moved.
'Holly, Holly, where are you?' Finch sounded terrified.
'Here, I'm here.' She thrust out her hand, feeling round until she touched something warm. Finch seized her hand, then threw his arms about her waist, pressing his face into her belly in a frantic hug.
'I heard someone calling for me up there,' he whispered. 'Are they looking for me?'
'Come on,' Elena urged. 'Quickly!'
Moving her hand along the slimy wall, they edged down the passage. Several times they both slipped on the wet stones beneath their feet, but they managed to steady each other. At last, as they came round the curve of the tunnel, Elena felt a breeze on her face and saw before them the thick iron bars of a gate glinting in a shaft of moonlight.
On the other side of the iron grid, three steps led down to the water's edge. Stretching out in front of them was the broad river; black and oily in the silver light, it twisted and writhed as it rushed past them. Moored along either bank were the dark humps of boats. Here and there the red glow of a small brazier on a boat's deck, or the yellow smudge of a lantern hanging from a mast or prow, showed that their owners were spending the night on board, but most of the little craft rocked at their moorings, black and silent. On the far side of the broad river more fires burned outside a small cluster of wooden shacks, but beyond that was darkness.
Finch pointed to a rope hanging from the roof of the tunnel. 'See, you have to pull that and the gate comes up, but it goes down as soon as you stop pulling'
Elena grasped the thick rope and tugged. It took all her strength to make the grid swing upwards just the span of her hand, but as soon as she slackened her grip, it fell back into place with a crash that echoed through the tunnel. She and Finch both froze, holding their breath, but they heard nothing except the rushing water.
Elena looked around, her heart thumping in her chest. Time was running out. There had to be a way to keep the gate open. She searched both sides around her. Then she saw a metal bar, jutting out high up on the wall. When the gate was raised fully, it should be possible to loop the rope over the bar and hold it open, but they'd never be able to close it behind them. They'd have to pray that no one came down here for hours.
'Finch, listen to me. As soon as I lift the gate, you get under it and scramble up the bank beside the steps.'
'But you're coming with me. You promised.'
'I will, I will, but you have to go first. Go as soon as I tell you. Are you ready?'
Finch nodded. Elena planted her feet wide and grabbed the rope in both hands. She heaved. The heavy iron gate lifted a few inches. She pulled harder, the rough fibres of the rope biting into her hands. The gate lifted a little higher.
Then she heard it, faintly but unmistakably, a man's voice calling from somewhere behind her.
'Finch! Answer me, you little brat! Finch!'
Finch heard it too and turned. In the moonlight she could see his eyes wide with terror.
She heaved on the rope with all her strength and the gate rose just another few inches. 'Now, Finch, now! Crawl under. Go on quickly. I can't hold it.'
Finch hesitated, then as the voice above them called again, he dropped to his knees and slithered under the gap. It took all Elena's remaining strength not to let the gate fall with a crash; she eased it down as slowly as she could, but even so iron fell back on to stone with a dreadful clang.
Finch threw himself against the closed gate with a wail. 'Holly, Holly, open it! Open it! You can do it.'
Behind her, Elena heard Talbot's voice again, nearer this time. 'Finch, you'd best come out now, lad, or Ma'll flay the hide from your back and worse. Come on, lad, no use hiding, you know I'll find you.'
Finch cringed, but he still thrust his arm through the bars, trying to touch Elena.
'Please, Holly, please,' he begged. 'Open the gate. Let me back. I'm scared. I don't want to be out here. Let me back in, please.'
Elena crossed to the gate and took his cold little hands in hers.
'I can't, Finch. I can't. That man, that werecat has come back. You have to go. It's not safe for you here.' She reached through the bars, stroking his mop of soft curls.
'Listen to me, Finch. You have to be a brave boy. You must get on to the bank and follow the river. Keep walking all night, and when daylight comes find a place to hide and sleep. Then walk again when it gets dark. Walk until you are a long way from here. When you reach another village or town, then you can look for work. But, whatever you do, don't trust the boatmen. Don't let them see you. Too many of them come here. They might recognize you or Ma might ask them to find you.'
'But Holly, how are you going to escape?'
'Don't worry about me. I'll find a way out, you see if I don't.'
Talbot was bellowing again, fury in his voice. The caged beasts were snarling and hurling themselves at their bars, disturbed by his shouting.
She pulled her hands away. 'Go, Finch, go quickly! Talbot is coming.'
The boy stood motionless, his little fists gripping the bars. His face was ghost white in the moonlight, and silver tears were running down his cheeks.
Elena softly began to sing.
Lavender's green, diddle diddle, Lavender's blue.
You must love me, diddle diddle, 'cause I love you.
'Remember, Finch, always remember.'
As she resolutely turned away, her throat tight with tears, she thought she heard a soft echo behind her, a tremulous, broken little voice that might almost have been the sobbing of the river.
Let the birds sing, diddle diddle, let the lambs play,
We shall be safe, diddle diddle, deep in the hay.
She did not turn round.
Elena groped her way back up the slope as quickly as she could. She was desperate to reach the cellar before Talbot could come down the passage. She had to stall him long enough for Finch to get clear. She only prayed that the boy had the sense to run and was not still standing there. 'Blessed Virgin, look after him, keep him safe.'
It seemed much longer going up that tunnel than going down. She began to fear that she had taken a wrong turn, but there was no turn. She dragged her hand along the wall, feeling her way. The other she stretched out in front of her, to feel for the sacking curtain. She could still hear Talbot. He wasn't calling now, but cursing and muttering as he poked among the cages. The animals snarled, hurling themselves at their cages to drive away his unsettling light and defend their own tiny territory.
Something brushed lightly over her hand, and she almost yelled out until she realized it was the piece of sacking. She slid from behind it, keeping herself pressed against the wall as she edged round in the darkness. Talbot must be at the far end of the other passage for there was no light from the torch, unless he had given up and left.
Without warning, her shoe, slippery from the mud in the tunnel, shot out from under her and she crashed back against the wall, sliding down it. She scrabbled to find a footing, but there was nothing, nothing beneath her feet. She was sliding down the slope of the floor. She was falling into the hole. She thrashed wildly, trying to find something to hold on to, but her cold hands encountered only the smooth wet flagstones. She screamed, her legs kicking into the black empty space.
Light suddenly blinded her and even as she blinked her eyes, she felt a rough hand grab her wrist and yank her up so hard she cried out again, this time in pain. But with her other hand she managed to grasp a booted ankle and she hauled herself into a sitting position. Still holding on to the thick, sturdy legs, she clung there, shaking with terror.
Talbot hauled her to her feet.
'Another inch and you'd have been dead, lass,' Talbot said gruffly. He pushed his misshapen nose close to hers. 'So, what you doing skulking down here?'