IT shook ITs head. “I’m rarely wrong about a character. I’ve long believed Sir Misyur a good man.”
“He could be a whited sepulcher.”
“Indeed. I will now think aloud. If you hear a flaw in my reasoning, stop me.”
“Yes, Masteress.” I felt both nervous and honored.
“Sir Misyur has served His Lordship for seven years. If he knew he was to inherit, why wait to harm him?”
“Maybe—”
“Do not interrupt. Perhaps Sir Misyur has learned only recently that he was to inherit.”
“Maybe—”
“Lodie! Sir Misyur, fearing he would no longer inherit when His Lordship married Her Highness, set the cats on the count. He also surmised that His Majesty would not countenance the inheritance. Wanting to keep his wealth, Sir Misyur resorted to poison. In this conjecture, Master Jak and the taster are innocent.”
I nodded. These were horrible speculations.
“Don’t nod. Sir Misyur wouldn’t behave so reprehensibly.”
I agreed but didn’t nod.
“Let us suppose someone else expects to inherit and signals the cats, then discovers he or she isn’t to inherit. . . .” IT shook ITs head. “Two culprits are possible, but not as elegant. A solution should be elegant, Lodie.”
I didn’t understand, but I had an idea of my own. “Masteress?”
“Yes?”
“What if Master Thiel wormed his way into King Grenville’s good graces with gifts of stolen silver or plate or spices or even”—I pointed back the way we’d come—“a brace of partridges. What if he promised to destroy His Lordship . . . ? The king could seize the castle after the count was gone, no matter who was to inherit. Master Thiel would demand riches, perhaps a title, in exchange.”
“Possible.”
“What if His Majesty refused to fulfill his side of the bargain? Master Thiel might be angry enough to poison him. King Grenville may have been poisoned not at the feast but soon after.”
IT said, “Master Thiel may indeed have poisoned the king. He has the malice for it. Master Thiel is my favorite.”
“What about the mauled ox?”
IT said, “Master Thiel may have injured the ox earlier and wanted to be with you for the discovery.”
“But you said we interrupted the mauling.”
“We lack sufficient information.” IT rolled onto ITs side for me to climb on. “We will dine at home and then visit your esteemed goodwife, her goodman, and their children. Are you ready?”
I said I was.
In the lair we set to making skewers. Three were complete when a guard wearing a red cloak appeared in ITs open doorway. Her green scalloped cap signified she served the king.
“Elodie of Lahnt?”
I felt IT tense.
“Yes?”
“You are wanted at Count Jonty Um’s castle.”
Good news! I hurried to the hook for my cloak. “Masteress, His Lordship is back!” He’d sent for me.
IT said, “Why is she wanted?”
I turned from the hook to the guard.
“For poisoning His Majesty.”
My knees weakened and I leaned against the wall. Of course they suspected me. I’d poured for him.
She continued, “And for signaling the cats against His Lordship.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
You can’t be serious!” IT said. “She’s a child.”
They couldn’t suspect me of signaling the cats! “I was performing when the cats began to stalk. An imaginary snake was coming out of my mouth. I was reaching for it with both hands. Everyone saw.”
The guard said, “She must come.”
“I am a fool,” IT said. “Who is her accuser?”
The guard hesitated. “Cellarer Bwat. Her Highness sent for you.” Her voice softened. “His Majesty’s illness has brought her very low.”
“He still lives?”
Silence. Why tell a poisoner whether or not she had succeeded?
I still leaned against the wall. “My masteress has commanded me to go nowhere without IT. I cannot disobey.”
“True. I will accompany Elodie.”
“She may not bring anyone with her. Apologies, Meenore. You shouldn’t have befriended a spy of Tair.”
That’s what they thought? “I’m not! I’ve never—”
“Meenore, you might have deduced what she is.” She advanced. “Come.”
Three more guards filled the entry.
I pushed myself away from the wall and wrapped my cloak around me. “I’ve never been to Tair. I grew up on a farm in Lahnt.”
She took my arm. “And learned to mansion on a farm?”
She walked me out or else my knees would have given way. I looked behind me. IT held the heel of a loaf of bread in one claw, ITs knife in the other. Green smoke rose from ITs nostrils. Green smoke for bewilderment? ITs mouth hung open, and ITs eye ridges were furrowed.
Could IT believe me a spy? Did IT suspect me of poisoning the king, signaling the cats, mauling an ox?
The guards set a quick pace. The one who’d addressed us, the only female, held my right elbow. Another guard had my left. I staggered along between them.
Mother! Father! Fear pounded in my ears. “If I am deemed guilty, the real poisoner won’t be caught.”
They didn’t slow.