The Queen's Poisoner
Page 77
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
—Dominic Mancini, Espion of the Palace Kitchen
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The Eel
Berwick walked with a slight limp, his face agitated and nervous, his gaze continually glancing back the way they had come.
“Move along, you two. Hurry now,” he growled. Owen’s heart was racing. Evie looked excited at the opportunity for intrigue.
They reached a locked servant’s door and Berwick removed a huge ring of keys that had been flapping on his belt and quickly unlocked it. He gestured for them to enter, but he did not go with them. Owen heard the lock click fast behind them.
Ankarette and Mancini awaited them in the room. The fat spy was pacing, his cheeks dripping with sweat. His tunic was stained with huge circles of perspiration at his neck and under his armpits. He wiped his mouth on a kerchief as he gazed in wonderment at the two children.
“You brought them here?” Mancini whined. “If we’re all caught together—”
Ankarette held up her hand. “Berwick is guarding the corridor. He’ll rap twice if anyone comes. There is no time for hesitation. What is your message?”
Mancini looked flustered, as if he expected intruders at any moment. “One of the Espion just passed Our Lady,” he said gruffly, chafing his meaty hands. “I recognized the fellow. Gates. Sharp young man. I saw his lathered stallion and realized he’d been riding hard and riding fast. He accepted a muffin, which he shouldn’t have because it’s made him ill. His innards are exploding down the privy well of the garderobe at the moment.”
“The message!” Ankarette insisted.
“Yes! Apologies! Ratcliffe caught another one on his hook. A big fish. A really big one. The Deconeus of Ely.”
“Tunmore,” Ankarette breathed in surprise. By the look of concern on her face, Owen could tell that she admired the man. “I wonder how he was trapped.”
Mancini shrugged, mopping the back of his neck with the rag. “I only know he was caught by the Espion abroad. Whatever news Gates has brought, he will share it with Ratcliffe immediately. You only have moments to get this lad in front of the king with another dream!”
Ankarette started pacing, her brow furrowed.
Evie frowned. “My grandpapa and my papa don’t like Tunmore. He committed treason.”
Ankarette’s gaze turned to her. “You are right,” she said softly, gently. “He was guilty of treason. Other men paid for theirs with blood, but the Deconeus of Ely did not. I’m surprised he allowed himself to be trapped. He was one of the wisest men I ever met . . . a mentor of mine.” She shook her head. “What is done is done. Without knowing the full news, we must not guess at it. Just the news of his capture will be enough.”
“What am I to say then?” Owen asked nervously. There were so many names. He did not understand them, and he wasn’t sure he could say them all.
Ankarette turned to Mancini. “Do you have any suggestions?”
Mancini looked at her, startled. “I did my part!” he complained angrily. “This is just the sort of gossip you wanted from me. I had to run . . . run! . . . from Our Lady. I won’t catch my breath for another week.” He groaned and jiggled his joints. “I even tossed a coin into the Fountain for good luck, which shows my utter desperation that Gates won’t think to connect his violent diarrhea with the muffin I gave him! If he does, I’m a dead man.”
“You’ve done well, Dominic,” Ankarette soothed. She stopped pacing and turned quickly. “Owen, do you know what an eel is?”
He blinked at her.
“They’re like snake fishes!” Evie chimed in.
Owen nodded but grimaced. “I don’t like them,” he said, shaking his head. “They taste funny.”
Ankarette beamed. “The blessing of talking to the children of nobles! Yes, an eel is like a water snake. This is what you must say, Owen. You were in the kitchen this morning. You heard Liona say she was planning to make eel for the king’s dinner. That made you think of eels, and then you felt like you were an eel. An eel that was caught by a fishhook. You struggled against the hook, but you were dragged out of the water. There was a rat with a fishing rod on the shore. You were the eel. Can you remember this, Owen?”
Evie frowned. “What does it mean? Oh! Ely! That’s the eel!”
Ankarette winked at her. “Clever girl.”
There was a firm double knock at the door.
“This way, Dominic,” Ankarette said, motioning for him to follow her. Ankarette waved at Owen to go to the door and then slipped through another doorway with Mancini and shut it behind her. Moments later, Berwick had unlocked the door and was standing in the frame, his face dripping sweat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The Eel
Berwick walked with a slight limp, his face agitated and nervous, his gaze continually glancing back the way they had come.
“Move along, you two. Hurry now,” he growled. Owen’s heart was racing. Evie looked excited at the opportunity for intrigue.
They reached a locked servant’s door and Berwick removed a huge ring of keys that had been flapping on his belt and quickly unlocked it. He gestured for them to enter, but he did not go with them. Owen heard the lock click fast behind them.
Ankarette and Mancini awaited them in the room. The fat spy was pacing, his cheeks dripping with sweat. His tunic was stained with huge circles of perspiration at his neck and under his armpits. He wiped his mouth on a kerchief as he gazed in wonderment at the two children.
“You brought them here?” Mancini whined. “If we’re all caught together—”
Ankarette held up her hand. “Berwick is guarding the corridor. He’ll rap twice if anyone comes. There is no time for hesitation. What is your message?”
Mancini looked flustered, as if he expected intruders at any moment. “One of the Espion just passed Our Lady,” he said gruffly, chafing his meaty hands. “I recognized the fellow. Gates. Sharp young man. I saw his lathered stallion and realized he’d been riding hard and riding fast. He accepted a muffin, which he shouldn’t have because it’s made him ill. His innards are exploding down the privy well of the garderobe at the moment.”
“The message!” Ankarette insisted.
“Yes! Apologies! Ratcliffe caught another one on his hook. A big fish. A really big one. The Deconeus of Ely.”
“Tunmore,” Ankarette breathed in surprise. By the look of concern on her face, Owen could tell that she admired the man. “I wonder how he was trapped.”
Mancini shrugged, mopping the back of his neck with the rag. “I only know he was caught by the Espion abroad. Whatever news Gates has brought, he will share it with Ratcliffe immediately. You only have moments to get this lad in front of the king with another dream!”
Ankarette started pacing, her brow furrowed.
Evie frowned. “My grandpapa and my papa don’t like Tunmore. He committed treason.”
Ankarette’s gaze turned to her. “You are right,” she said softly, gently. “He was guilty of treason. Other men paid for theirs with blood, but the Deconeus of Ely did not. I’m surprised he allowed himself to be trapped. He was one of the wisest men I ever met . . . a mentor of mine.” She shook her head. “What is done is done. Without knowing the full news, we must not guess at it. Just the news of his capture will be enough.”
“What am I to say then?” Owen asked nervously. There were so many names. He did not understand them, and he wasn’t sure he could say them all.
Ankarette turned to Mancini. “Do you have any suggestions?”
Mancini looked at her, startled. “I did my part!” he complained angrily. “This is just the sort of gossip you wanted from me. I had to run . . . run! . . . from Our Lady. I won’t catch my breath for another week.” He groaned and jiggled his joints. “I even tossed a coin into the Fountain for good luck, which shows my utter desperation that Gates won’t think to connect his violent diarrhea with the muffin I gave him! If he does, I’m a dead man.”
“You’ve done well, Dominic,” Ankarette soothed. She stopped pacing and turned quickly. “Owen, do you know what an eel is?”
He blinked at her.
“They’re like snake fishes!” Evie chimed in.
Owen nodded but grimaced. “I don’t like them,” he said, shaking his head. “They taste funny.”
Ankarette beamed. “The blessing of talking to the children of nobles! Yes, an eel is like a water snake. This is what you must say, Owen. You were in the kitchen this morning. You heard Liona say she was planning to make eel for the king’s dinner. That made you think of eels, and then you felt like you were an eel. An eel that was caught by a fishhook. You struggled against the hook, but you were dragged out of the water. There was a rat with a fishing rod on the shore. You were the eel. Can you remember this, Owen?”
Evie frowned. “What does it mean? Oh! Ely! That’s the eel!”
Ankarette winked at her. “Clever girl.”
There was a firm double knock at the door.
“This way, Dominic,” Ankarette said, motioning for him to follow her. Ankarette waved at Owen to go to the door and then slipped through another doorway with Mancini and shut it behind her. Moments later, Berwick had unlocked the door and was standing in the frame, his face dripping sweat.
