It did seem unfair. I hoped Nesspa wasn’t a carcass. I looked under an overturned wheelbarrow. Nothing.
“Princess,” Master Dess said, “in death the goat will be treated with respect. I swear to it.”
They were silent until Master Gise said, “You should return to your apartment, Your Highness.”
Her voice rose. “Should? I think I should stay with this goat and mourn her death. You both may go.”
Lambs and calves, she was good! Presence of mind, Father would have said. Master Gise and Master Dess would leave, and she and I could search together, but I’d have to warn her about waking Master Thiel and the stable hands.
“Your Highness, Master Gise lives here, and I will sleep here as well tonight.”
They would pass me on the way to their pallets! I crept toward the aisle of stalls. I had to get out, and quickly.
“Then I will stay only a minute or two and let you have your rest. Will you join me in an Ehlodie—oh! I meant eulogy—to these remains.”
Did Master Dess know my name? I couldn’t remember.
I tiptoed by the carts as fast as I could go.
“We must leave this life”—her voice rose on leave, a signal for me, as if I needed one—“all of us, whether goat or grasshopper, child or chicken, person or panther, human or heron. . . .” She was entirely carried away. I hoped she would continue until I escaped.
While she named more pairings, I reached the middle aisle we had entered through and worked my way past the stalls. As I went by, I peeped into Master Thiel’s stall for a second glimpse of him. The stall was empty. I halted, squinted, looked away and back again. Still empty.
“. . . and even an ox or a camel or a bumblebee may be mourned. La! Perhaps not so much a bumblebee.”
Had I looked in the wrong stall? No. There was the broom I’d knocked over. Had I imagined Master Thiel?
“The goat will surely be mourned. Maker of goat’s milk, giver of goat cheese, happy in life, she deserves these few words in her memory.”
I neared the doors.
“Now, masters, I will let you finish the night in sleep.”
I was out. I flew up the stairs and waited for her in the inner ward.
What would I do if Master Gise or Master Dess decided to escort her to the donjon?
She came out alone. “Was I not quick-witted to secretly tell you to leave? Did you find Nesspa?”
I nodded, then shook my head. “I may have missed him in the dark.”
She patted the top of my cap. “You did your best.” She yawned. “I shall continue the search tomorrow. Go to your bed, Ehlodie, and I will go to mine.”
I went to my pallet but not to instant sleep. A servant nearby moaned from a dream. At home, Albin was a quiet sleeper. The cottage was small, cozy. I would be tucked into bed, a pallet there, too, nestled in our little house tight against our mountain, thrice snug and sheltered.
And thrice loved.
I rolled onto my side. What had I learned tonight?
That the princess was kind and gave away caps and was going to marry an ogre despised by her subjects. That Master Thiel and Master Dess could pop up anywhere. That Master Dess was an animal physician. That a dog was not easily found. That, so far as I could tell, I had discovered nothing to help my masteress deduce or induce and nothing to keep His Lordship from harm.
Chapter Seventeen
Awareness of the meeting with my masteress must have awakened me while my fellow servants still slumbered. My eyes felt gritty from too little sleep. I sat up and straightened the princess’s cap, sliding the bows from my left ear to my chin.
The fire had died down to nothing. I placed my satchel under my mattress and tidied the blankets over the lump. The pallet would be stacked, but I didn’t know where, so I left it. I owned nothing to interest a thief.
Hugging my cloak, I exited into the inner ward. At the well I splashed my face, although a little water wouldn’t pass for cleanliness with IT. Then I ran through the postern passage, an arched tunnel to the postern door, which opened onto the west side of the outer ward.
Dawn hadn’t yet come, but the growing light revealed a fishpond to my right and a double row of fruit trees along the outer curtain, the castle’s outermost wall.
Where would IT land? Each side of the castle was a quarter mile long. Had IT come down already on the other side? IT wasn’t in the sky, and I might be expected to deduce where IT would land. Enh enh enh.
I smelled not a whiff of spoiled eggs. I started toward the back of the castle, reasoning that IT would be unlikely to land in front, where the gatehouses were and where guards might come swarming out.
As I rounded the tower, I saw ahead three fenced-in herb and vegetable gardens. Along the inner curtain bloomed Lepai rosebushes, which can flower through a light frost.
Ah, there IT was, flying from the west. IT sailed over the outer curtain, then wheeled to and fro just as the sun rose.
“Masteress!” I cried.