How lonely I would be if I were the only human. “Mistress? What about dragons? Are there many? Are any of them noble?”
“Just one in Two Castles, and IT is a commoner. Dragons don’t generally dwell near one another.” She straightened her left leg. “My old bones don’t like anything hard.”
I wished I had a cushion for her. She was so nice. I thought of Mother’s warning, but Goodwife Celeste couldn’t be a whited sepulcher. We had been together all this while, and she had done nothing to raise my suspicions.
“Beyond Two Castles,” she continued, “Lepai has a few dozen dragons, here and there.”
“Do people protect themselves from the dragon, too? Not with cats, with something else?”
“No. Everyone is used to IT. IT’s lived in the town since IT was hatched a hundred years ago.”
“So old?”
“IT is in ITs prime.”
We fell silent. I leaned back on my arms and looked up at the blue sky. Summer weather in October. No clouds, only a breath of a breeze. How safe I felt, like a twig floating in a quiet pond.
Goodwife Celeste picked shreds of cheese and bread crumbs off her lap in a housewifely way. She walked to the bulwark, tossed them over, and returned to me. Back at my cloak, she knelt. “Crossing is a holiday. For a few days we’re as safe as the kittens in their basket.” She gestured at the cog around us.
I had been thinking exactly the same thought!
“I’m sorry I won’t be able to help you in Two Castles.”
That startled me. I hadn’t thought of asking for aid.
Was she telling me in a roundabout fashion of her own troubles? Were she and her goodman too poor to feed themselves, or were they in some other sort of difficulty?
She put a gentle hand under my chin. “You have a determined face. Nothing will easily best you.” She stood. “My goodman may well be wondering what we had to gossip about for so long.” She left me.
That night, when I curled up on the deck, worries came and refused to be pretended away. The mansioners would not take me. I would starve. In the winter I would freeze, fall ill, die. Mother and Father would never know what had become of me.
Chapter Three
The weather remained uncommonly warm. The cog master complained about the still air and our slow progress. I feared we would arrive after Guild Week, and then what would I do?
We’d set out on a Sunday, the only day the cog left Lahnt. Masters in Two Castles began seeing boys and girls on Monday, and by Friday all the places would be taken.
At noon on Tuesday I lunched on the last pear, the end of my provisions. By nightfall the wind freshened, although the air remained warm. When I awoke the next day, I sensed a change in the motion of the cog. The troughs weren’t as deep, the crests not so high. I rushed to the foredeck.
An uneven triangle broke the horizon. Our cog now sailed amid fishing boats, a whale among minnows.
I folded my cloak and pushed it into my satchel with my spare hose, chemise, and kirtle—my entire wardrobe, except for the clothes I wore and the shoes on my feet. My hand encountered the only other item, a list in Mother’s small, neat writing on a sheet of parchment. I took it out.
HALF DOZEN RULES FOR LODIE
1. Be truthful.
2. Act with forethought, not impetuously. Your mother and father depend on your safety.
3. Neither stare nor eavesdrop.
4. Do not interrupt or contradict your elders or finish their sentences or think you know more than they do.
5. Do not befriend anyone until you are certain he or she is worthy of your trust. Beware the whited sepulcher.
6. Know always that you have our love.
7. Be generous (an extra, generous rule).
I patted the page seven times before returning it to my satchel.
Half the morning passed as we drew closer to land. From behind, the other passengers pressed against me, as impatient as I. I touched my apron and felt the familiar bulge of my purse. The stink of fish assailed my nose.
I took in the tiers of houses ahead, a few built of stone, most of wattle and daub—clay and wood. Above town, on the right, a cluster of towers poked the sky. To the left, barely cresting the hilltop, were the tips of more towers, the other castle. Which was king’s and which ogre’s, I had no idea.
What I sought most I didn’t see—the mansioners’ wagons or at least the three pennants: the pennant that showed a laughing face; the one with a weeping face; and the one with a hushing face, a finger over the lips. No mansions, but the entire town could not be on view from here.
The cog master shouted instructions to his seamen. Passengers called to people waving from the dock. Someone touched my elbow. I turned.
The goodwife held a bundle of black-and-white fur. “Here. I bought you a kitten. It’s good luck to bring a cat to Two Castles.”
“Thank you, but—”