Exile (12 page)

“I need you to climb that old oak tree by the chapel,” I told him. “And I wish you to place my bonnet on the tallest branch.”

“I have no objection to playing ‘Hunt the Hat' indoors!” he laughed. “But I have no desire to go out into the cold. What strange idea is this, Grace?”

“It is a test, you dolt!” I explained. “The two pages failed the tripping test miserably. However, if they can climb, then there is still some chance that one of them is the thief. The old oak tree has branches that start a long way from the ground. It would take some skill to get footholds in the trunk.”

“I will do it for Ellie,” sighed Masou. “Although from what you say, neither can be the snake man that you seek.” He took the hat, wrapped his cloak around him, and set off.

I made my way to the Great Hall, where Mrs. Champernowne had gathered the Maids. They were practising dancing with some of the young gentlemen
of the Court. Monsieur Danton was demonstrating some new steps with Mrs. Champernowne as his partner. I slipped in and made my way quietly to Lady Sarah, who was watching intently. I saw Mrs. Champernowne's eyes follow me as the dancing master skipped nimbly around her, flicking his feet out at every turn. It was lucky for me she couldn't move.

“Pray do not interrupt me,” muttered Lady Sarah. “Lady Jane will take Sir William as her partner the minute my back is turned.”

“But I need your help, Lady Sarah,” I whispered, “for I am going to be in terrible trouble otherwise.”

“I should think you are,” sniffed Lady Sarah. “Missing Monsieur Danton's instruction, again. Where have you been?”

“Out walking Her Majesty's dogs,” I said quickly. “She asked me specially. But that is why I need your help.”

“Not with walking those dogs, I trust?”

“No, they are safely back on their cushions,” I assured her. “But while I was out a gust of wind took my hat and blew it into an old oak by the chapel. Mrs. Champernowne will skin me alive, for it is new and I lost the last one while jumping over a stream in the Park of St. James's”—that bit was true at least— “and none of Mr. Somers's troupe are available.”

“So you want me to climb a tree!” squeaked Lady Sarah.

“Silence!” hissed Monsieur Danton, glaring at us. “Taisez-vous!”

“Of course I do not want you to climb a tree,” I whispered to Lady Sarah. “But I have seen Anoosh and Faruk wandering around in the corridor outside with little to do. I am sure one of them could climb the tree, but I cannot ask them for they are scared of me!”

“And with good reason!” retorted Lady Sarah. It seemed she had not forgotten about yesterday.

“You are so good at getting young men to do what you want,” I pleaded. “Could you not have a word with them?”

The flattery worked immediately.

“Well, I am rather,” Lady Sarah said, sounding pleased with herself.

“So you'll do it, then?”

“Oh, if I must,” she sighed. “I will just tell Monsieur Danton that I must rest for a few minutes and then I will step outside and send Anoosh and Faruk to retrieve your hat. I will pretend it is my hat and then they will surely oblige. But I will not accompany them, for then I will miss the dancing and Lady Jane will get her claws into Sir William.”

“What are you two whispering about?” demanded
Mrs. Champernowne. She started towards us, leaving Monsieur Danton capering about on his own.

But before we could answer, the dancing master had grasped her arm. “No, no, Madame Champernowne,” he chided, steering her irritably back to her place. “You stay still while I skip. You do not speak! Mon Dieu!”

Mrs. Champernowne went purple, but thankfully she held her tongue and did not question us further.

As Lady Sarah was making her excuses, I went back out to the old oak. Masou had done well. My hat was lodged at the very top of the tree.

“Psst!”

I saw Masou's arm waving to me from behind a bay bush. I quickly joined him and we waited there together.

It was not long before we heard voices. There seemed to be an argument going on in the language of Sharakand, and every now and then the words “Lady Sarah” were said loud and clear. I peered out to see Anoosh and Faruk both trying to get a foothold on the tree. I wondered what Lady Sarah had told them to make them so eager to win her favour. She had probably just flashed her eyes and heaved her bosom. That seemed to work with most men!

I sauntered round the bush and greeted them as if
surprised to find them there. “What's going on?” I asked innocently.

The two pages looked at me warily. I could hardly blame them so I kept my distance.

“I am instructed by the beauteous Lady Sarah to rescue her headwear,” said Anoosh nervously.

“No, it is I who will have the honour,” argued Faruk.

“But it was I she spoke to!” insisted Anoosh.

“Until she saw that I was also present,” added Faruk, through clenched teeth.

At this rate I would never get to see who was the good climber—or get my hat back! “I have an idea,” I said, brightly. “The two of you could take turns and I will assure Lady Sarah that you were both most anxious to please her.”

“Very well,” said Anoosh, nodding.

“It is agreed,” said Faruk. “I will go first!” And before Anoosh could do anything about it, Faruk was hauling himself up the trunk. He made heavy weather of it, and soon found himself lying flat on his back on the ground.

“Hah! I knew it!” exclaimed Anoosh. “Now I will show you how it should be done.”

At last, I thought. I have found my thief.

Anoosh ran at the tree and gave a great leap.

I had to put down my daybooke for a moment, as I was called to join the madrigal. As usual it was a dreary one. I am sure I saw a tear in the Banoo's eye when we sang about “our lost home,” but mayhap it was our singing that distressed her!

Anyhow, Anoosh scrabbled at the bark of the tree, trying to get a handhold. For a moment, as he clung to the trunk, I thought he was going to succeed. But he got no further and slowly slid down to the ground. It was very difficult not to laugh.

Anoosh got to his feet and brushed leaves off his tunic. “It would seem the gods have decreed that neither of us is worthy of doing the lady Sarah's bidding,” he said sadly.

“She would be better asking Sharokh,” muttered Faruk, “for he is good at climbing.”

I did not want to ask Sharokh. I already knew that he was agile—for I had seen him catch the pitcher of wine at the ball—but since he does not occupy the crucial room above Banoo Yasmine's, there was no point in testing him. It was all very vexing!

Anoosh and Faruk went off together, heads bowed.

As soon as they were gone, Masou sprang out of
the bush, climbed the tree like a monkey, and retrieved my hat.

“So where has that test got you, Grace?” he asked as he handed the hat to me. “I tell you they are no tumblers.”

“Or climbers,” I sighed. “But couldn't one of them still be a snake man?”

Masou looked doubtful. “Even if that is so, how did the thief get down to the Banoo's dressing room if he cannot climb?” he asked.

“I don't know,” I replied irritably. “Mayhap he could manage it with the help of a rope. I will have to set a test to see if one of them is a snake man. What else can I do? I must find a way to prove Ellie's innocence.”

I looked round me for inspiration and in the distance I noticed the old fish smokehouse with its rickety door and tall, narrow chimney. I had an idea and hastened over to investigate further. Masou followed curiously.

I tried the door and it creaked open. I do not think the smokehouse has been used since the old king's time. The floor was covered in leaves, which must have drifted in through the chimney. Masou and I crunched over them. There was a grate in the centre of the room for a fire, and hooks for the fish
dangling down on chains from the ceiling. I looked up at the chimney hole. I am quite thin (Lady Sarah, who is very proud of her own ample figure, calls me a beanpole) but I would not have been able to squeeze up through it.

I tugged at Masou's sleeve. “Is that chimney about the same size as the window in the tower?” I asked.

He looked at it long and hard. “Hmmm!” he said at last. “It is about the same size, in my judgement.”

“Then all we need to do is lock the door and hide the key,” I decided. “We can ask Faruk and Anoosh to climb in by the chimney and thus discover whether either of them is a snake man!” I was really pleased with my idea and waited to be congratulated.

But Masou just frowned. “Why would they want to do that?” he asked.

He was right. Why would they?

“Because …,” I said, thinking hard, “… there will be something very precious inside.”

“Why do you not put the Heart of Kings inside!” exclaimed Masou. “And then we can all watch the sport as they attempt to steal it.”

I gave him a playful shove. “Stop your jesting,” I told him. “And think on this—Anoosh and Faruk were anxious to help Lady Sarah. How much more eager would they be to serve the Queen?”

“You are surely not suggesting Her Majesty should be locked inside this old smokehouse!” Masou exclaimed in horror.

“Will you try to be serious for a moment?” I scolded. “We will simply put something in here that the Queen values highly.”

“And what is that, pray?” asked Masou.

“Henri,” I said smugly, “her favourite dog.”

Five minutes later I was coaxing Henri inside the smokehouse. Well, I didn't really have to coax him at all. He followed me—and the big bone I was waving at him—quite happily. He settled down among the leaves and gnawed happily on the bone, while I crept out and shut the door. But when I went to lock it, I realised that there was no key!

There was nothing I could do, for I could see Masou approaching, with Faruk and Anoosh, so I stood with my back to the door. It seemed our ruse had worked. Masou had offered to show them the grounds and then brought them by the old smoke- house.

When the two pages saw me, they stopped and looked about them quickly—as if searching for another route to take.

“I am so glad you are passing,” I gushed, before
they could walk away, “for a terrible thing has occurred. Her Majesty's favourite dog, little Henri, has wandered inside this smokehouse, and someone has locked the door not knowing he was there. I do not know who has the key and poor Henri is getting very agitated.” I hoped they could not hear the happy sounds of “poor Henri” chewing. “It will cause Her Majesty great distress unless he is freed quickly. Can you help? She will be most grateful to anyone who rescues her dog.”

I wondered what Faruk and Anoosh must think of life at Placentia Palace. It would seem that there are nothing but accidents here. I hoped they were not suspicious. Thankfully, they did not appear to be, for they stepped forwards eagerly, emboldened at the thought of winning the Queen's gratitude.

“I think the only way is to go through the chimney,” I explained.

Their faces fell immediately.

“Can you not try?” Faruk asked Masou. “You are a skilful tumbler.”

Masou bent down and hastily rubbed his knee. “A skilful tumbler with a bad knee, I fear,” he said, wincing. “Mr. Somers has forbidden me any strenuous exercise. Her Majesty depends upon you.”

“Then the door should be forced, perhaps?” suggested Anoosh.

“We have tried,” I said quickly. “But it is stuck fast, and we cannot risk hurting the dog.”

The pages looked at each other doubtfully.

I led them away from the smokehouse, turned, and indicated the chimney. “In truth, that is the only way of gaining entry,” I said sorrowfully.

“It appears very small,” Faruk pointed out hesitantly.

“Faruk's heart seems to fail him,” put in Anoosh immediately. “I will make the rescue myself.”

Masou gave him a leg up onto the domed roof and he edged towards the chimney. He peered into it and then swung his legs over the edge and started to wriggle down inside.

We watched as he huffed and puffed and slowly squeezed himself further in.

After a while he stopped and waved his arms. “I am sorry to be troubling you,” he called politely, “but I think I am stuck.”

“What misfortune!” said Masou, looking sympathetic. “If only this ankle—” I coughed loudly. “I mean, this knee, were healed, I could help. But I daren't disobey my master.”