A Tale of Two Castles

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.

The tip of ITs tail flicked, in recognition of me, I supposed, but IT continued to fly, swooping here and there. When ITs face turned toward me, I saw a wild grin.

IT landed in the middle of the ward with ITs right claw outstretched. ITs left claw held three filled skewers.

I heard a terrified yeep! As I watched in horror, IT raised a fat brown hare to ITs flame. A minute later, IT held out the roast.

“Would you like a haunch, Lodie?”

I shook my head and kept half the ward between IT and me.

“Then come and eat your skewers. Breakfast will be gone by the time you return indoors.”

I rushed close for the skewers—uncooked—then backed away.

IT sat, placed the hare on ITs thigh, and carved the meat with ITs talons.

“Are you the ogre’s poacher?” I blurted.

ITs smoke blued. “I induce and deduce flawlessly, but occasionally I forget common sense. I should have let the rabbit live.” IT devoured ITs meal quickly, bones as well as meat. “I am no poacher”—ITs smoke whitened, ITs discomfort over—“not since I gave up catching and toasting young maidens.” Enh enh enh.

I smiled, although I imagined a squirming, shrieking girl in ITs claws. My fear of IT surged back.

“Lodie . . . come closer.” IT held my gaze.

I went, but slowly.

“Answer me. Even if you are a budding mansioner, I will know if you are lying. Do you believe I might roast a person?”

I swallowed. I wished Goodwife Celeste had never frightened me.

ITs smoke was bright pink, ITs scales red. “Angry as I am right now, am I flaming at you?”

I shook my head.

“I could broil you and eat you, and your parents would not know and no one here would care. . . .”

His Lordship might care. “You told me to doubt everyone.”

“Yes, but test your doubt. You slept in my lair unharmed for two nights. And during one of those nights, you were grimy and flea ridden. Awareness of your dirty state troubled my sleep.”

When I’d been awakened by the roaring, IT had been soundly asleep.

“Yet I did not harm even a lobe of your ear. Alas, you are almost as filthy as before, for all that you now have a cap.” IT lowered ITself onto ITs belly, keeping ITs head high. “Tell me what has happened and what you have learned.”

The most important news first. “Her High—”

“Wait.” IT lumbered to the outer curtain at the end of the herb gardens.

I followed, munching on bread and cheese, no longer afraid.

“The castle has ears, but the outer curtain is deaf. Now, speak.”

“Princess Renn is to marry His Lordship.”

“Start at the beginning, Lodie.”

I did. Under ITs prompting I recalled details I would have forgotten. For a mansioner, this was fine memory training. Still, I didn’t remember enough to satisfy IT. I had a sinking feeling of failure, just as I used to about the geese.

When I raved over how sweet the monkey was, IT held up a claw. “Emotion is of no consequence.”

But it was! “Please, Masteress, listen. He is a kindly ogre under his gruffness.”

“Inconsequential.” IT asked a dozen more questions about the journey to the castle, then progressed to my meeting with the princess. IT enh enh enhed endlessly over the monstrous shadow.

“If people in Two Castles know she is to marry His Lordship,” I said, “they must be furious. No one in the town wants to be ruled by an ogre someday.”

“I agree.” IT went on to questions about what had taken place in the stable.