They went down the stairs and changed into new clothes. For Celie that meant her black gown with the purple sash, which swished when she walked and made her feel quite grown-up, if a little depressed at having her first grown-up gown be one of mourning. She washed her face, and when Lilah was dressed she braided Celie’s hair and pinned the braid across her head like a crown. Arm in arm they went to the courtyard, where they met Rolf.
“Just in time,” he said, nodding at the main gate.
The guards were hailing someone, and after a moment they let a single horseman through. It was Pogue, on his sweating, tired horse. The animal trudged into the center of the courtyard and stopped. Legs braced wide, nostrils blowing hard, its head drooped and didn’t move again.
“Pogue! Are you all right?” Lilah ran to him, with Rolf and Celie right on her heels.
Pogue looked down at Lilah with bloodshot eyes. His face was streaked with sweat and dirt, and his hair was standing on end. For a moment, he appeared to be struggling to remember her name, and he swayed in the saddle a bit.
“Delilah?” He shook himself like a dog and cleared his throat. “Lilah! Rolf!” He dismounted, seeming to gather energy from some unknown source. “They’re alive!”
“What!” Lilah reeled backward, and Rolf caught her around the waist before she fell.
“Mummy and Daddy?” Celie ran to Pogue and grabbed hold of the front of his tunic. “You found Mummy and Daddy and Bran?”
“Not quite ‘found,’ but they’re alive for certain,” Pogue said, patting her awkwardly on the shoulders.
“Come inside,” Rolf said in a low, urgent voice. He steadied Lilah before moving to help Pogue. “Take care of his horse,” Rolf called out to the groom hovering nearby.
“Let me just tell you—”
“Not here,” Rolf interrupted. “Not here. A lot has happened.”
Walking so close they were stepping on one another’s heels, they hurried into the Castle. The Emissary was standing there, an unctuous smile on his face, but Rolf brushed by him with a muttered apology. They made for the narrow staircase to the Spyglass Tower, and as soon as they started up the steps, the stone wall sealed behind them, cutting off the Emissary’s protests.
“How did it do that?” Pogue sounded dazed. “What day is it?” He shook himself and almost turned back, but Rolf tugged his arm and kept him going up the stairs. “Can we get back out?”
“Yes, of course,” Rolf assured him. “This is the only room in the Castle where we can be alone. We can usually find it, but it’s easiest to come up here with Celie.”
“All right,” Pogue agreed, still sounding stunned.
“And if we need to meet here,” Rolf went on, “put a handkerchief in your sleeve. Left for immediately, right for at midnight.”
Pogue blinked rapidly. “But … why would we need a signal like that? Why would we need to meet here?”
They had reached the top of the steps, and Pogue collapsed on a stool, exhausted and confused. Celie and her brother and sister stood in front of him. Celie didn’t want to explain everything that had happened to them. She wanted to hear Pogue’s news at once—were their parents and Bran really alive?
“You’d better tell us your news first,” Rolf said. There was a pitcher of water and a cup on the table that hadn’t been there before. He poured Pogue a cupful, and when the other young man had drunk, Rolf took the cup back and rolled it between his hands. “Are they alive?”
“As far as the wizards can tell, yes,” Pogue said, leaning back against the wall. “I couldn’t see anything myself at the ambush site. I’m afraid that scavengers, human and animal, have picked the area clean.” He grimaced. “No one nearby knew anything more than we already knew. So I went from there to the College of Wizardry. They’d heard about it, of course, but the rumor in the city is that the entire royal party had definitely been killed. So naturally it hadn’t occurred to them to try to track Bran.
“I told them our suspicions, and led some wizards back to the site of the ambush,” Pogue continued. “They sniffed around. Did some spells, tasted some of the dirt and the bark off the trees.”
“They tasted dirt and bark?” Celie wrinkled her nose.
“That’s why you won’t find me at the College,” Pogue said.
Lilah made an impatient noise, and Celie ducked her head. Pogue, looking chastened, went on.
“They could see which soldiers had died—I had the list you gave me—and they were right every time. They knew that Sergeant Avery got away. Then they got really excited. They said that the king, the queen, and Bran were definitely alive! They left the site of the ambush just before Avery did.”
“Still alive?” Celie’s heart was humming, it was beating so fast. Tears were slipping out of her eyes and she didn’t realize it for a minute or two. Lilah made a little sobbing, moaning noise and put her arms around Celie.
“Alive,” Lilah whispered. Then she buried her face in Celie’s neck and wept.
“Where are they?” Rolf was also wet-cheeked, but he managed to stand straight and tall nonetheless.
Pogue rubbed the back of his neck. “They don’t know.”
“Why not?” Celie cried. “If they can tell who was there, and if they’re alive or dead, why can’t they follow the trail to Mummy and Daddy?” She was hugging Lilah fiercely, and didn’t care if she sounded babyish when she called her parents “Mummy and Daddy.”
“Because the trail ends not far from the ambush site,” Pogue told her. “It just … disappears. They can’t find a single footprint, nor locate their auras.”
“But they’re wizards!” Celie refused to accept such a silly answer. Wizards could find anything … wizards could do anything! Surely it would be easy for them to find someone’s trail, particularly if it was someone they knew, like Bran. He had lived with them, trained with them, for three years!
“Bran is also a wizard,” Pogue reminded her, echoing her thoughts. “They suspect it was magic, Bran’s magic, that hid the trail. The wizards think that they’re in hiding.”
“But what do they need to hide from?” Outraged, Celie pushed Lilah away, though not roughly. “Why don’t they just come home? If there are no more bandits lurking in the forest, why hide?” Her voice broke. “We’re here all alone, with the Council after us, and Prince Khelsh … It’s been awful!”
“Maybe they know that home is dangerous now, too,” Rolf said.
They all turned to look at him. Rolf was staring out one of the windows, his face gilded by the morning light, with one hand clenched in front of his chest. His mouth was a thin line, and all the jokes and teasing had gone right out of him.
“What has happened here?” Pogue sat up straight on the stool, watching Rolf carefully. “What’s happened since I’ve been gone? Why are we meeting in a sealed room, in secret?”
“Rolf is the king,” Celie blurted out. “Glower the Eightieth.”
Pogue blinked. “I thought you were waiting for me to report back. I’m sorry it took so long, but—”
“Didn’t Rolf say in his message what was going to happen?” Lilah drew over two stools, and pushed Celie gently onto one while she took the other.
Rolf remained standing. “No. I only told him to return as swiftly as possible. I didn’t want the letter to be intercepted.” He swung around to face Pogue. “The Council decided that I would be crowned this week … yesterday, that is. And that I needed a regency to guide me while I learned to be king. The Council, plus Prince Khelsh of Vhervhine, are the new regency, and I am their puppet-king until Khelsh kills me or I turn twenty-four, whichever happens first. Can you guess which one Khelsh is hoping for?”
“This is madness,” Pogue said, stricken. “Can they do any of these things? Isn’t there some sort of … precedence? Has the Castle made its will known?”
Rolf just shook his head.
“The Castle is on our side!” Celie was stung by Rolf’s lack of loyalty.
“I’m not saying that it is
n’t, Cel,” her brother quickly said. “But it also hasn’t kicked the Councilors out or Khelsh—”
Pogue’s eyes went wide. “But if something happens to Rolf …”
“We’ll have a Vhervhish king,” Rolf finished for him.
Chapter
14
They thought about letting Pogue get cleaned up and into fresh clothes before braving the Council, but Rolf decided that it would look more dramatic if he was still sweaty and dusty, and Pogue agreed. He also said, with faint embarrassment, that he was afraid if he did go home for clean clothes he’d collapse from exhaustion when he saw his bed. So, with a filthy Pogue in tow, they marched into the throne room. Prince Khelsh was there, and so was the Emissary. Celie almost stuck her tongue out at them both; she was so tired of their whispering in corners and causing problems.
Rolf waved a hand at their bodyguards. “Why don’t you wait out here with Prince Khelsh’s guards?” The guards took up positions just outside the throne room, forcing Prince Khelsh’s guards to do the same. The Vhervhish guards slunk out of the throne room with dark looks and much muttering.
Celie accidentally stepped on one of their feet on her way past, which probably hurt her more than the guard, since she was wearing thin leather slippers and he had a heavy boot on. But he gave her a startled look, and she was pleased with her little act of defiance all the same. She raised her eyebrows and the man ducked his head and apologized for being in her way.
Pogue closed the doors behind them all, and folded his arms. Though not quite as broad as his father, his pose strained his tunic at the shoulders, and the sweat-streaked dirt on his face made him look positively menacing.
“Excellent news,” Rolf told the Emissary and Prince Khelsh brightly. He strode up to the dais and then took off the crown. He rested it on the seat of the throne and then turned to face the prince and the Emissary with a broad smile. “I won’t be needing that anymore!”
“You are … give up crown, yes?” Prince Khelsh had to struggle to find the right words, but he looked very eager all the same.
“Abdicating, you mean?” Rolf shook his head. “Not hardly. But I won’t need to wear the crown, or sit on the throne, since my father is still alive.” He put his fists to his hips and watched the Emissary and Prince Khelsh carefully, as Celie, Pogue, and Lilah did.
“Now, Your Majesty,” said the Emissary with a sigh. “We’ve been through this. There has been a thorough search of the area, and there is no way that your parents are still alive—”
“According to the College of Wizardry, they are very much alive,” Rolf interjected smoothly. He gestured at Pogue. “Master Parry has just brought the news. They found their tracks leading away from the ambush site: Father, Mother, and Bran.” Again the bright smile. “I’m about to summon Sergeant Avery and send him with a regiment to search the area again, with the help of the wizards. I’m sure that together they will be able to find my parents and brother in no time.”
Prince Khelsh and the Emissary exchanged looks, and Celie clenched her fists. She knew that whatever they were about to say would sound nice on the surface, but be dripping with nastiness inside. Glancing over, she saw that Pogue’s jaw was set and he also had his hands clenched. Rolf had bit the inside of his lip, and Lilah was already drawing a breath to snap back at them.
“Now, now, King Glower,” the Emissary said. “There is no need to get all excited. If you wish to send a few men out on another search, then by all means do so. But as one of your regents, and I’m sure the prince here agrees with me, I don’t think it’s wise to raise everyone’s hopes. Not to mention how vulnerable that leaves the Castle in this delicate time, if the soldiers are off beating the bushes for ghosts.”
“But you aren’t my regent,” Rolf explained again. “I am not the king. My father is still the king, something we all should have known when the Castle kept his chambers exactly as they always were.” Rolf’s anger showed in the intensity of his voice, and Celie clenched her fists harder, hoping that her brother wouldn’t lose his temper. It would only make the Emissary more smug, and Prince Khelsh more amused.
“You were crowned yesterday,” the Emissary said, a smile on his face that was very nasty indeed, “and the prince and I and the rest of the Council were legally made your regents. If your father is still alive, why has he sent no messages, made no attempt to contact us? Rather than force the kingdom of Sleyne to wither without leadership, we have crowned you. You are the king, and the Council is here to guard your actions. And right now, two of your guardians are telling you that it is futile to persist in looking for your parents.”
“Once I announce to the people that my parents are still alive, you will find that your regency is very short-lived, and your time on the Council will be over just as swiftly,” Rolf said, still controlling his anger.
The Emissary stopped being oily. “And you’ll find it very difficult to act like a petulant little boy when your sisters are locked up in the Hostages’ Tower,” he snarled.
“Go, go!” Pogue grabbed Celie and Lilah by the shoulders and pushed them back toward the door.
Celie turned to run, and there was only a large arch—the doors were gone—leaving the guards standing with startled expressions. She snatched up Lilah’s hand and pulled her older sister through the arch. They darted between the guards to another arch that had opened on the far side of the main hall. It closed behind them with a crash of stone, sealing the guards out, and the sisters looked around to find themselves in Celie’s room. Through another arch they could see Lilah’s room, and the other way out was the narrow staircase to the Spyglass Tower.
Celie spun around, staring at the sudden changes. “How did the Castle … this was never …”
“We don’t have time,” Lilah panted. “Grab some of your things and get up to the Tower.”
“What about Rolf and Pogue?”
“If the Castle’s helping us, I’ll wager it’s helping them,” Lilah said, hurrying through the arch into her bedroom.
Celie forced herself to stop staring and think. “I’m going to bring my pillows and blankets, too,” she said.
Her stomach was a horrible, aching hole. She’d known that the Emissary was going to do something nasty. They should never have let Rolf go to the throne room. They should have just gotten horses and ridden straight to the hills to look for Mummy and Daddy themselves. Tears ran down her nose and dripped onto the bedclothes.
“Do you have anything to eat in your room?” Lilah called through the archway. “The only thing I’ve seen to eat in the Tower is those awful hard biscuits.”
“No,” Celie said, and her voice came out choked.
“What’s the matter?” Lilah came to the archway, a questioning look on her face, then she saw that Celie was crying and came all the way into the room. “Celie darling, what’s wrong?”
“When will it end?” Celie threw herself on her sister’s neck. “I keep waiting and waiting for Daddy to come through the gates and stop all this … this nastiness from happening, but he never does! What will we do now? Isn’t anyone going to help us?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Lilah said, wetting Celie’s head with her own tears. “I don’t know, darling.”
“You’re not helping, either,” Celie sobbed.
“I’m sorry,” Lilah said, and half laughed, half sobbed. “But listen to me,” she said after a moment. She pulled away so that she could look Celie straight in the eyes. “I know that this will all turn out all right, and do you know why?”
Celie shook her head.
“Because we have something that Prince Khelsh and the Emissary don’t have: the Castle. The Castle is on our side, Celie. I don’t know how it’s happened, or why it’s happening now, but the Castle is on our side. I really think it loves you, and I feel like it loves me and Rolf and Mummy and Daddy and Bran, and even Pogue! The Castle will help us, and we will beat them!”
“Are you sure, or are you just telling me that so that I�
�ll stop crying?” Celie asked.
“I’m sure,” Lilah said, giving her a little shake. “I know that Rolf and I have been saying some things lately to make you feel better. But this isn’t one of those things. I believe that the Castle can help us, and I believe that we will win. Mother and Father and Bran are alive, Celie, I know it’s true now. I wasn’t certain before, but now I am. We just have to hold the Castle until they get back.”
“Hold the Castle?”
Lilah nodded. “It’s up to us to make certain that the Council doesn’t do anything more horrible to anyone. We have to make sure that Rolf and Pogue are all right. That Khelsh doesn’t take over, that everything and everyone in the Castle is protected until Daddy gets back and kicks the Council out on their old, wrinkly … bums!”
“Lilah!” Celie put one hand to her mouth, a little shocked, and then she giggled.
“You heard me,” Lilah said, with a militant light in her eye that Celie had never seen before. “Now get your things and let’s get up to the Spyglass Tower.”
Celie piled her pillows and folded blankets into her velvet coverlet and then tied the whole thing into an enormous bundle. She wasn’t sure if the Castle was going to close the door to her room permanently once she and Lilah got to the Tower, so she just threw the bundle as far up the steps as she could. Then she went back and grabbed her old gray gown, her nightgown, some underthings, stockings, and slippers, and piled those on the stairs. She took her atlas, the Vhervhish phrase book, some paper and pens and ink; at the last minute she snatched Rufus from the back of her wardrobe.
Rufus was a stuffed cloth lion she had had since she was a baby. Rolf had started teasing her about still sleeping with Rufus when she was eight, so she had reluctantly put him in the back of the wardrobe. But she still pulled him out when no one was around and she was feeling sad or sick. He was saggy now, and sort of grayish, rather than plump and cheerfully yellow, but that was all right with Celie. She stuck him into her bundle of bedclothes just as Lilah arrived with her own things.
All of Lilah’s gowns were neatly folded and wrapped in a cloak, and she was carrying her bedding in a large basket. She frowned at the mess Celie had made, but didn’t say anything.
Tuesdays at the Castle Page 8