Blind Man's Buff

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  Nathan looked around for Brewster, but did not see him. He was strangely disappointed. The Hazletts were his enemies, but his relationship with Brewster was often comical and now sometimes even friendly. He was certainly unusual, and Nathan found him interesting.

  As the vast platters of meat were carried in by a stream of chefs, everybody laughed and cheered again, enjoying the Christmas spirit. Most of the adults were also certainly enjoying the wine, and the king already looked a little tipsy. The queen looked rather sad, and was not drinking at all.

  Although Nathan and Poppy had become accustomed to medieval meals, they had never been invited to a royal feast before. There were so many different sorts of food on offer, it was impossible to try them all, and just to be more confusing, the sweet confections were all served at the same time as the meat and savoury dishes.

  The meat had all been roasted on the spit so it was extremely tender and tasted wonderful, and the other platters held special fish, sardines mixed up with chopped liver and herbs which Nathan and Poppy hated, lots of stuffed pies and sauces, puddings of raisins and honey, custard tarts and jellies, cheeses of all kinds, and pickled vegetables, leeks in honey, onions with slivers of pork crackling sticking out of the middle, boiled eggs wrapped in bacon and huge bowls of coloured wafers and cream.

  The last course, when everyone had already eaten far too much and couldn’t even move, was a vast sculpture in rock hard sugar, which looked like a ship in full sail, complete with oars and figures rowing. It was wonderfully crafted and Nathan was most impressed.

  “Wish my Pa had a ship wot looked like that,” grinned John. “He only got a little ship wot can’t go too fast. But I reckon I shall go sailing wiv him one day.”

  Nobody ate any of the sugar ship, but it was carried around by two of the chefs for everyone to see, and clap and cheer, before they got up with great sighs, and staggered out to crash their way back to their bedchambers for an afternoon rest.

  Granny and her group did exactly the same. Once the royal party had left the hall, they followed the departing crowds and finally discovered which great polished staircase led to their own rooms. But although they were all utterly exhausted, the boys scrambled into the girls’ room at first, because they were longing to discuss everything that had happened.

  “Best food o’ me life,” declared John, falling on the wide four-poster bed.

  “Get off, that’s my bed,” said Poppy. “But yes. Isn’t it all wonderful?”

  “And the king actually spoke to us all,” grinned Nathan. “He told me I was a mighty warrior and gave me three gold coins. I shall keep those for the rest of my life.”

  “I’ve no wish to speak to the king,” said Alice. “I think he’s a horrible creature, like Hugh Darling. It’s the queen I like. She’s a true darling – but I feel very sorry for her.”

  “What’s going to happen to her?” asked Peter, alarmed.

  “I am most sorry to tell you,” said Granny, “that she will be executed on the king’s orders, after she is accused of crimes which I know quite well she didn’t do. And the king knows she is innocent as well. He just wants to get rid of her.”

  “She has her head chopped off?” asked Sam, white-faced. “A woman? That’s dreadful. Nobody in our time executes noble ladies. Never queens.”

  “This is not a kind king,” murmured Granny. “He is not a Hazlett, but there are similarities.”

  “That’s horrible,” whispered Alice. “And she’s been so kind to us. Granny, can’t you magic things differently and kill off the king instead?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Granny said, sitting on the window seat, and watching the window mullions fill with snow, like little white diamonds. “I cannot change history. But I have gifted the queen a magic ring which will help her a great deal as life turns cruel.”

  This greatly upset everyone, and the conversation lapsed. Silently the boys drifted back to their own room. But as Nathan wandered in, and then peeped back into the corridor before pulling the door shut, he thought he saw something move around the corner. He called to the others that he would be back in a moment, and quickly followed what he thought he had seen.

  In the long darkened corridor, a tall thin figure was dancing off into the distance. Nathan called softly, “Is that you, Brewster?”

  Brewster Hazlett turned, looking back over his shoulder as he danced, kicking up his heels and his bony knees, skipping, hopping and chuckling. “So you found me, eh, Bumble-Bee-Head? Enjoy the joustie-woustie, did you? All that nasty fighting and hurting their friends, just like you accuse us poor weeny Hazletts? Well, off you go to bed now, all tired from your wilting-tilting. But look out for me and my twinny-win-winny. I’ll be back. Oh yes, I’ll be back before you know it.”

  And he disappeared into the darkness.

  Chapter Nine

  “Oh yes,” said absolutely everyone, gazing up at Granny. “That’s exactly what we want.”

  Granny had suggested that they all stay at the Tudor Palace until after Christmas. “There seems no special reason to leave,” she nodded. “The only thing that somewhat bothers me, is the appearance of Brewster Hazlett. Apart from that, it is more comfortable here at the palace than back in medieval London, and certainly more so than it is in my house in Hammersmith where I have to do my own housework. The only thing I miss is chocolate cake, and of course I have to be careful who sees me wearing my glasses. They haven’t invented them yet.”

  “I love it,” Poppy nodded her head so many times John thought it might fall off. “But what about Lashtang? What about the rebellion? What about mum and dad? What about trying to help?”

  “You are all very important,” said Granny, hands to her back as she stretched. “But the rebellion can be planned without you, you know, since it’s Messina and Sherdam and the others who will decide such things. And it won’t happen yet, that’s for sure. I promise to get you back in time for everything you need to do.”

  Peter frequently was called to play the lute for the queen, Nathan, Alfie and John spent much of their time practising their archery and riding, while Nathan loved to visit the mews and scratch the itchy feathers on the top of the eagles’ and kestrels’ heads.

  Sam missed the cats, but he also loved the mews, and the swans out on the lake. There were peacocks in the grounds, although they hid away when it was too cold, and he also liked to listen to Peter’s music.

  The queen was not yet seriously suffering from the king’s ill-treatment, and sometimes she called Granny to visit her and tell her charms and secrets.

  Being the height of the Christmas season, there were feasts almost every day. Nathan and Poppy could feel themselves growing fatter on a daily basis, but they also ran around a great deal and walked long distances around the palace and into the nearby village of Richmond, so they didn’t grow too much. And there were other entertainments apart from food. There were travelling players who came to act the comic plays of the season, and the more serious plays leading up to Epiphany. There were mummers and jugglers, dancers and troubadours, harlequins and choirs. Riding out to the hunt was a popular pastime, but Nathan simply liked to practise his horsemanship without hunting anything at all, though he loved to fly the birds from the mews, and often offered to take them out for exercise.

  Alice and Alfie learned the new dances of the period, which were different from the ones they already knew, and felt very proud to be dancing in front of the king.

  The feast on Christmas Day itself was as magnificent and elaborate as could be imagined, and important people from all over the country were invited. Queen Anne was looking both tired and rather dismal, and Granny was convinced that she had been quarrelling with the king. They did not talk to each other during the feast, and the king spoke mostly to his friends. In the evening, Granny was able to conjure up all the Christmas presents they had bought for each other back in modern London, gift for everyone from everyone which had been left both in Alice’s medieval mansion, and others in Granny’s
home, so that within less than an hour they were all disappearing into piles of crumbled Christmassy paper and ribbons.

  Everything, including the paper, was so modern that it was quite impossible to show during the Tudor years, so they reluctantly had to burn the wrapping on their bedroom fires, and hide all the gifts under their beds. There were special clothes and pyjamas and fluffy slippers, books and jigsaw puzzles, funny hats, model aeroplanes, small remote-controlled helicopters, computer tablets, mugs with their names on and big boxes of chocolates.

  They ate the chocolates, and finished almost all of them that one night, throwing the empty packaging onto the fire. They kept the three little torches, a calculator, a couple of books and the pyjamas and socks, but everything else was stored ready to send back to Granny’s house in Hammersmith.

  The celebrations did not fade once Christmas Day had passed, and the feasting went on until the sixth day of January, which was Twelfth Night, and called Epiphany. By then everyone was heartily tired of the parties, the fancy restrictive clothes, the draughty palace, the smoky fires, the dogs running everywhere within the palace and messing on the carpets, (which was cleared up by some very tired pages), the smells of the sceptic tanks and the horrid little privies with no flush and no doors, and the king’s temper tantrums which could be heard up and down the corridors both day and night. Even though his grand and enormous quarters were at the other end of the massive building, if something displeased him, which it often did, he would roar at the pages, the scullery boys, his butler, his steward, his own secretary and other servants, his dogs, and anyone else who happened to be close. He did not openly shout at his wife. In public he was exceedingly polite. But when the queen appeared, head held high but the marks of tears in her reddened eyes, it was obvious what was happening.

  “I have given the poor woman a magic ring,” sighed Granny, “but I’m afraid I can’t block her misery.”

  It was the seventh day of January. “I think I want to go home,” said Sam. “I’m tired of all the noise and the running around and the servants, and no cats.”

  “There’s cats down in the stables and grain stores,” said Poppy. “They keep them to chase the rats and mice away. One of the big black and white cats has just had kittens. Teeny little things, they are.”

  “They all run away when they see me,” said Sam with a sniff. “They think people are going to hurt them. They hide. And nobody feeds them, they all have to find their own food, which isn’t kind at all. It makes me feel rotten. I’ve tried putting some scraps out for them, but the dogs always push in and eat it first.”

  “That’s it then,” said Granny with a big smile. “I shall try and see the queen this afternoon and explain what I can and see if I can cheer her up. You must all gather up your possessions and everything you want to take home with you, and come and meet me in my bedchamber after supper. That’s when I shall take us all home.”

  “Which home?” asked Alice hopefully.

  “First we shall return to your own house in Bishopsgate, my dear,” Granny said. “We have all been away too long, so all of you who wish to stay in medieval London may do so. However, after a day or two of rest, I shall return first to my own home, and then to Lashtang. I’ve been away too long. I am sure there is plenty I should be doing with my dearest Messina and the rebellion. However,” she smiled, “Hermes could have come and brought me a message had there been anything important, and he did not. So hopefully, everything is still peaceful.”

  The fire was burning bright that evening, and a few of them looked around with a frown, wondering if they had made the right decision to leave. It was certainly most comfortable having everything done for them, a warm bed made up every day, nothing to do except play and talk to each other, wonderful food and no worries.

  “But you say the poor queen will soon have a terrible time,” nodded Peter, clutching his lute, which the queen had given him. “I think she’s such a lovely lady. She’s so nice to me. I love playing for her.”

  “But evidently her head will be chopped off in a few months,” sniffed Alice, “and she has a terrible time before that too. I don’t want to be here when that happens.”

  “We are leaving, and that’s that,” said Granny. “Now, hold onto all your bags and parcels, or you’ll lose them in transit, and things will blow away into other times and places.”

  John sniggered. “You means me funny hat wiv rabbitty ears could fly away and land on some lord’s head years ago like this rotten king’s coronation?”

  “Not quite,” smiled Granny. “But possible. We will not travel by train this time. I shall spin us all back to London in 1486. Now – are we all ready?”

  “Bye bye Queen Anne,” waved Poppy.

  “Bye bye big comfy bed,” waved Alice.

  “Bye bye all them huge feasts,” waved Alfie.

  “And all those beautiful eagles,” added Nathan.

  And the room went dark. Everything began to whirl around them, just as though they all stood quite still but the furniture and the walls and the windows were all twisting and whizzing, faster and faster, in a swirl of growing darkness. Everyone shut their eyes, for it was making them dizzy.

  And then suddenly it all stopped. The room stopped spinning and the light came back. They opened their eyes. It was the great hall in Bishopsgate, within the Parry house, and they could see the snow falling heavily through the three long windows.

  “Wow. Home,” said John, toppling down onto the floor.

  “We having a feast tonight?” asked Peter, with a laugh.

  “I’m ready for bed,” said Poppy, “and I can’t eat another thing for a week.”

  “I’m off to find Flop and Gosling,” said Sam, hurrying away.

  Nathan gazed at Granny. “You will stay a couple of days before you leave, I hope?” he asked. “I’d like to stay with the others before going back to Lashtang. But I miss Mum and Dad too. I don’t want to miss you as well.”

  “I am going to bed,” said Granny, pulling off her funny Tudor headdress. “I shall decide anything else in the morning.”

  It continued to snow and when they awoke the next day, the world was crusted in white and a strange windless hush was as thick as the snow-banks.

  Everyone crept from their beds, wearing their new modern pyjamas (John’s had pictures of Spiderman all over his, and Sam’s had pictures of kittens, Poppy’s had a message saying My Favourite Granddaughter and Alice’s had lots of polar bears, Alfie’s had a picture of Captain Jack Sparrow, Peter’s had a picture of Harry Potter with the words I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good, and Nathan’s had a great big red dragon running after a football. They sat at the long table for breakfast, the fires had been lit in every fireplace, but it was still early and they hadn’t yet reached blazing hot. The house remained chilly. The window mullions were frosted and as soon as the front door was opened, a great gust of snow blew in, and what had piled up on the doorstep collapsed inwards and soaked the rug in the corridor.

  “Hot eggs, hot spiced cider for breakfast, and hot fires in every room,” called Alice to the steward, who was rushing down the stairs to attend to everything. He was still on the stairs when Hermes flew over his head. The steward had learned that a hundred weird things happened in this household, but he was definitely startled by the goose, and turned around and quickly ran back upstairs.

  Hermes waddled over to everyone at the dining table.

  “Good peace and greetings this fine morning to all my illustrious lords and ladies,” he said with a stretch and a flap of his wings. “I am much blessed to greet your return. During your absence I have returned twice to Lashtang and to your honourable homestead in modern Hammersmith, my illustrious Lady Altabella. I am pleased to announce that everything rests as normal in both places. I informed them that you had gone to the Tudor court for Christmas. The illustrious Empress Messina sends her regards and asks if King Henry VIII chopped off your head.”

  Granny snorted. “Not yet. Maybe next time.�
�� She was wearing a long fleecy nightdress in pale blue with white frills. It did not suit her at all. “But now,” she continued, “I intend to spend the day by the fire with my new cookery book all about cooking with chocolate, and I shall stay in my nighty with my feet up to the flames. You can all go off and do whatever you wish. Tomorrow I go home. Today I do nothing. Pretend I’m not here.”

  Hermes and Gosling tucked themselves at her feet, Sam ran after Flop who was trying to leap up to the chandelier and the others continued quietly eating their breakfast.

  “I wonder if there are people skating on the Thames,” said Alice. “It often freezes over at this time of year when it gets this cold.”

  “I wanna go skating if tis frozed,” said John. “I ain’t bin fer a couple o’ years, but I used to like it. I were no good at it, but that be more fun.”

  “Reckon we can have a look tomorrow or the day after if we’s got time,” said Alfie.

  “I’m a little worried about what the king may say,” sighed Alice, “if he sends for me to organise the wedding that’s never going to happen. Will he think I’m lying about the baron disappearing? Or will he think I killed him myself?”

  “Nah,” said Alfie, banging his fist on the table so that the cups of steaming cider all bounced and spilled a little bit. “He can’t think you’s lying, cos tis true the baron done disappeared. As fer killing the horrible pig, he won’t think that neither. How do a young lady kill a big fat man?”

  “I think I should visit the palace again,” said Alice, “and say how the stupid man has gone away. Then I might look more innocent. But what if he somehow manages to come back?”

  Nathan smiled, and pulled the Knife of Clarr out of his pyjama pocket. He held it up so it caught the firelight and glittered red and gold. “This is the Lord of Clarr,” he said loudly, “and I command you to show us a vision of what Baron Cambridge is doing in the Tower of London.”

  Everyone stared into the air over the table. It went misty and white, almost as though it was snowing inside the hall. But then the mist cleared, and the great stone walls and portcullis of the Tower of London rose up from the platters and cups. The shadows were huge. There was a wind whistling and flags from the Tower’s battlements were whipped right and left. At ground level the guards were marching in pairs, their pikes pointing to the winds, and their hats pulled low to stop the wind in their eyes.