“The hair!” she exclaimed. “Morven must just add each new prince’s hair to her locket. No wonder there was so much, and I got Adalbert’s instead of Denholm’s. Ardent, can you go to Denholm’s room and find his hairbrush? And maybe you’d better get one of his socks as well. I’ll have to make a new dowsing rod. Oh, I do hope he’s all right in the moat. I’ll go and talk to Tanitha.”
Ardent barked happily, spun about on the spot, and leaped away, eager as always to carry out a job, particularly if it involved herding or fetching.
Anya followed Ardent out rather slowly, with a wistful glance back at Gotfried. The librarian was her closest ally, but he was not very dependable whenever the Duke was involved. He would be too frightened now to give her any useful advice.
“I’m not going to school,” Anya whispered to herself. That one thing was certain. But how could she avoid it? The Duke had cleverly hit on a way to get rid of her. No one could object to a princess being sent to school. Even if it was very likely she would never even get there.
Many different plans went through Anya’s mind as she left the library, wandered along the covered walkway through the small west courtyard, took a shortcut via the still room and its racks of drying herbs and flowers, emerged smelling of rosemary, climbed the stair to the west wall, went along it and then down another stair to the inner bailey, crossed that large courtyard, and climbed a set of stairs again to go into the keep and the Great Hall beyond the keep’s iron-studded gate.
Tanitha was asleep on her personal carpet in front of the biggest of the hall’s four enormous fireplaces, though as it was still summer, there was only a small fire lit. Like all the royal dogs, Tanitha was basically golden-colored with a blackish snout and back, though on her the black was shot with silver. Several other royal dogs lay around her, their heads rising and ears going up as Anya walked between the long trestle tables towards them. When the princess was several feet away, the three younger dogs got up, stiff-legged. They stretched and then bowed gracefully, lowering their heads onto their forepaws and wagging their tails.
“Thank you, Frosty, Surefoot, Gripper,” said Anya, briefly scratching under collars and between ears, being sure to give the three dogs equal attention. “I want to talk to Tanitha, if I may.”
“I’m awake,” said Tanitha, opening one eye and emitting a minor snort. “I might not look it, but I’m awake. Sit down by me, Anya. You others, go and make yourselves useful somewhere.”
The other dogs padded away as Anya collapsed gratefully by the side of the old dog and reached out to hug her around the neck. Tanitha put up with that for a minute or so, then turned her head and delivered some comforting licks to Anya’s face, taking away the few small tears that had somehow leaked out despite the girl’s best intentions.
“Now, now,” said Tanitha. “So the Duke plans to send you away, and you’re worried about Morven and this Prince Maggers, and finding Denholm the frog.”
Anya nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She very rarely cried, but being brave all the time took an enormous amount of effort. Sometimes she just got tired of keeping everything together.
“We had better go for a walk,” said Tanitha. She struggled to her feet, Anya subsiding off her like a dropped cloak. The dog’s huge tail wagged, gently slapping the girl across the head as she got up. “Everything is always better for a walk. And we will talk.”
“I haven’t got time for a walk,” said Anya fretfully. “I have to find Denholm before he gets eaten by a stork.”
“There’s always time for a walk,” said Tanitha comfortably. “We will walk by the moat, and you can look for Denholm.”
“I suppose I can remake the dowsing rod there,” said Anya. “If Ardent brings me Denholm’s hairbrush. But I’ll need a new hazel stick to dip in the moat.”
“Gripper will fetch one.” Tanitha barked a command to the dogs who’d settled over by the door. Gripper answered with a short woof and circled away.
Anya and Tanitha went out via the dogs’ secret tunnel, Anya bending down to follow Tanitha down the ramp that was hidden behind a hanging tapestry on the south wall. Several royal dogs on guard duty wuffled Anya’s hands as she passed by, and she scratched their heads. The tunnel went deep under the keep, ran along under the kennels that were built against the inner bailey wall, then continued till it came out in the main gatehouse, the exit there hidden under a false windlass for the drawbridge. Tanitha nosed the catch and the large hatch lifted up, windlass and all, allowing the dog and girl to emerge. There were two royal dogs on guard here as well, and one of the castle cats, who held a rather strange balding mouse in his mouth.
The cat dropped this very dead mouse at Anya’s feet and made a quick mewing speech.
“I didn’t kill him, Princess. I mean, I would have, but he was already dead. At least, I might not have killed him if I’d realized who he was in time, but when a mouse runs out of a hole behind the big kitchen stove and falls over dead in front of you, instinct takes over, the claws go out, a little swipe this way, a little swipe that … I’m sorry.”
Anya bent down and looked closely at the mouse. There was something about it that didn’t look right. It took her a horrified moment to realize that he had an almost human face on his mouse body. An extra-cruel flourish to make when transforming a human.
He was one of the under-cooks, an oldish man named Harris. Anya had not known him well, since there were four under-cooks at any given time in the royal kitchen. But he had loyally worked for her parents, and perhaps even her grandparents, and now he was dead. Killed by the Duke, or as good as killed.
It was the first time, as far as Anya knew, that the Duke had transformed one of the castle staff. Visitors, strangers … but never anyone so close to herself, even someone like this under-cook who she didn’t really know …
“I wondered what had happened to him,” said Tanitha. “He burned the Duke’s morning marmalade cake yesterday.”