“There’s a flagon of water and washbowl.” Tamsin pointed to plain white porcelain sitting on the table. “And a bar of soap should be around somewhere.”
“Rather than software engineers, maybe you could kidnap a couple of plumbers next time.”
“You’re not the first to suggest that. Some way back, a team of Roman engineers built a bathhouse in the outer bailey. There’s an adjoining lavatory block with running water. But you might not want to go wandering around in the dark. We still don’t have street lighting.”
Suddenly, everything was more than Lori could take. She fixed her eyes on the ceiling, fighting to maintain self-control. Was it too much to hope that she had unknowingly eaten a plate of dodgy mushrooms and was suffering from hallucinations? Maybe she would wake up in A&E.
Tamsin placed a hand gently on her shoulder, claiming her attention. “If you want, I’ll take you to the latrine. Show you the way.” Her voice was softer than before.
Lori pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to furtively dislodge any tears. “Thanks. It’s all right. I’m sure I’ll cope.” As a child, she had spent enough time camping and living in places without modern facilities. Back then, it had all seemed one big adventure. She just needed to recapture that spirit.
“You’re going to find it tough at first. I know. It wasn’t so hard for me. Day to day life isn’t that different from how it was on Earth when I was born. It was everything else I had to deal with. I had to let go of a lot of certainties, especially after growing up with the Puritans in charge. But I soon saw that in a lot of ways it’s better here. I can forget the priests pounding the pulpits with all their ‘thou shalt nots.’ I wear clothes I can run in. And nobody wants to set some poor sod on fire for being a witch—something I really appreciate, what with being a woman.”
Which Lori did not need reminding of. The touch of Tamsin’s hand on her shoulder was sending ripples down her spine. She battled to keep her tone light. “I think I’m going to struggle. I’m already getting separation anxiety about email.”
“Widget will sympathize with you there. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hangs around on Earth for an extra day or two, just to get his fix of the internet.”
“Is he a recent arrival here?”
“No, just a nerd born ahead of his time. If I remember correctly, he was a friend of Charles Babbage when they were students at Cambridge together, except Widget ended up in Annwyn and never completed his studies.”
“Babbage!” Lori covered her eyes with one hand. It was all too weird.
“Give yourself time. It’ll get easier, and I’m here, if ever you need someone to talk to.” Tamsin’s voice was soft and sincere, a marked change from the self-assured captain of fairyland special forces. This conversation had the potential to take a dangerous turn.
The ripples down Lori’s spine flared out, down her arms and legs. Her knees buckled. She stumbled forward and somehow managed to stay upright as far as the window. She braced a shoulder against the wall for support and stood with her back to the room, but her eyes were fixed on the reflection in the glass. Tamsin was far too attractive, and not at all the sort of woman Lori wanted to get involved with. The last thing she needed was to add one more entry on her sorry list of lousy, fucked-up relationships.
“I don’t want time. I want to get back to earth ASAP. I’ve got family and friends waiting for me.”
“You’re fortunate. I didn’t have any close family. My father ran off right after I was born. I never knew him. And Ma had died the previous winter.”
“That’s tough.”
“They were tough times. The Silver Ravens are my family now.” Tamsin’s voice strengthened. “But I promise. I brought you here. Once you’ve finished the decoding, I’ll take you back. If you want to go.”
“You think there’s any doubt?”
“You might find yourself falling in love.”
“With who?” Lori managed to keep her voice steady, though her stomach did a bounce. Was Tamsin offering herself?
“With Annwyn. And maybe a little with Queen Rianna. It happens to everyone after a while.”
Right. Her stomach returned to normal. No guesses as to who Tamsin had fallen in love with. “Maybe.” But don’t hold your breath.
“You’d make a welcome addition to the population of Caersiddi.”
“Nice of you to say so. But you’ll have to abduct other recruits if you want someone to stay.” Lori pushed away from the window. “For now, I’ll need to make use of the chamber pot.”
“Of course.” Tamsin turned to the door. “I’ll see you get to the inner bailey gate tomorrow.”
“Wait. One more thing before you go. What about food?”
“Hot meals are served in the mess hall. You’ll hear the bell chime when they’re ready. Any other time, you can have the boggarts bring you a tray. I’ll have one sent to you now.” The door closed behind Tamsin.
Once alone, Lori peered under the bed. The chamber pot was—thankfully—empty, though it did not remain this way for long. Balancing on your toes was the tricky part, just like when she was a child, using the squat toilets in various regions around the world. Of all the things she did not understand about her parents, their indifference to modern plumbing came high on the list. She slid the pot back under the bed. So much for promising herself to never again stay anywhere without hot and cold running water.
The door opened and a boggart tottered in carrying a wooden tray laid out with bread and cheese, along with slices of meat, fruit, something gooey in a bowl, and something else looking like cake. There was also a carafe of red liquid, which Lori very much hoped was wine. A drink was definitely in order, and probably more than one.
The boggart put down the tray and burbled at her.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
It burbled some more.
“This is fine. You can go.” She made a shooing gesture, hoping it would get the message.
Still, the boggart did not leave and was clearly waiting for something—a tip? A niggling anxiety woke in Lori’s stomach. The boggart’s pose was non-threatening, but that was no guarantee it would not attack her. Like being left alone with a strange dog, the important thing was to stay calm.
She spoke clearly and firmly. “Go away.”
The boggart flinched, then sidestepped around the bed, pulled out the chamber pot, and scuttled away. Clearly, it was an all-purpose domestic servant.
Lori stared at the food tray. Did she want to risk eating it? She had the washbasin for herself, but there was no point going after the boggart to ask if it had cleaned its hands recently. Her options were to eat what was on offer or go hungry. The same situation would apply as long as she remained in Annwyn, which might be quite a while.
Lori sucked in a deep breath. Stay optimistic. Maybe the fay had magical cures for food poisoning. She had been promised her weight in gold. This was no time to go on a diet.
Chapter Seven
Roars from the mess hall sounded as if a football match was taking place inside. Only the snatches of laughter reassured Lori it was not a full-on fight. So much for a relaxing breakfast to clear her thoughts before tackling the decoding. However, her only other option was another meal of bread, cheese, and cold meat in her room. After offering up a prayer to the goddess of nutrition—please let the food be worth it—she pulled open the door.
The scene was every bit as chaotic as the sound suggested. Rows of tables were filled with animated diners. Ages ranged from late teens to early fifties. Everyone was shouting, presumably to be heard over the people around them, who were also shouting. All were clearly fit and healthy. Men outnumbered women two to one, and black leather clothing was universal. It could have passed for an international bikers’ convention. Possibly half the people were of European origin, but every other region was represented as well. The only non-humans were boggarts, scampering up and down between the rows.
Forget it. This isn’t worth it. Lori was about t
o turn and leave, but then spotted Hippo, beckoning her over to the corner where he was sitting with BH and Shorty. Clearly, the other soldiers did not mingle with the Silver Ravens. No one else was near their end of a table, although elsewhere the benches were crammed full.
“Hey. You made it to breakfast.” Hippo greeted her with a wide smile.
No. I’m still asleep in my room. Lori settled for a smile in reply as she slid onto the bench opposite him. So what if he was stating the obvious? His welcome was genuinely friendly, whereas Shorty and BH merely nodded at her and went back to their conversation, in what sounded like the fay language.
The only thing on the menu appeared to be the contents of a large ceramic stewpot that stood in the middle of the table next to a basket of hollowed out bread rolls. From watching the others, Lori learned the rolls were used in place of bowls. She took one and ladled in a helping from the pot. A passing boggart dropped a spoon beside her
“Ready to start work?” Hippo asked.
“I guess so.” Lori took a cautious sip. The stew tasted more like spicy fish than anything else she could put a name to. Not the most conventional of breakfasts, but not too bad either.
“Good luck with that.” BH spoke in clipped English.
“Thanks. I think I’ll need it.”
Shorty joined in. “Rather you than me. That’s for sure.”
BH and Shorty lacked Hippo’s warmth, but neither were they hostile—unlike Finn. His absence was a definite plus for Lori.
“That was the fay language you were speaking just now?”
BH nodded. “Hyannish.”
“We use English when we don’t want the little fuckers to eavesdrop.” Shorty indicated a passing boggart.
Or when talking to captured computer programmers.
“But people keep changing the language.” Shorty sounded as if it was a personal insult. “Take ‘wicked.’ For fuck’s sake. Why can’t they leave the meaning alone?”
“You’ll do fine as long as they don’t change the meaning of the word ‘fuck,’” Hippo said. Lori had already noted it was Shorty’s favourite adjective.
BH smiled. “It could be worse. You could have started with, ‘whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, the droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote.’ I’ve been playing this game longer than you.”
Another boggart slid a tankard onto the table beside Lori. She sniffed it cautiously. “Beer? For breakfast?”
“Safest thing to drink round here,” Hippo said.
“I don’t suppose there’s tea, or coffee?”
“Correct. There isn’t.” Tamsin had arrived. She dropped onto the bench beside Hippo and smiled across the table.
Lori’s stomach betrayed her with a mini-flip. No. Not interested. Don’t go there. She concentrated on her food. The inside of the roll had soaked up liquid from the stew.
“You can eat the bread if you want.” BH must have seen her looking.
“And what you leave the boggarts will have,” Hippo added.
Saves on the washing up.
“Where’s Widget?” Tamsin asked.
“Playing with some new toys he picked up,” BH replied.
“And Finn?”
BH’s mouth curved into a lopsided smile. “Guess.”
Tamsin laughed. “Right.”
Finn’s whereabouts were clearly some sort of open secret.
Lori chewed a little from the rim of her bread bowl, but it was too hard baked to be worth the effort, even with the stew to soften it. What she had eaten would do. She downed half the beer, hoping it was not too alcoholic. “I’d better be making a move.”
“I’ll come with you.” Tamsin also rose.
“It’s okay. You have your breakfast.”
“It can wait.”
Lori caught the glances shared between the other Silver Ravens. BH muttered something in the fay language that raised a laugh from Hippo and Shorty, and an expression of hurt innocence from Tamsin. There were various ways to interpret this interplay, none of which Lori wanted to pursue.
Tamsin fell into step beside her as they walked in silence, climbing stairs through the garden. The way Lori’s body reacted to their closeness was just one more thing on her list of things to worry about—as if she did not have enough. “Do you know what language the encoded text is written in?”
Tamsin shook her head. “I know nothing about it.”
“Length?”
“No.”
“Who wrote it?”
“No.”
“Why the que—”
“No. Honestly. I don’t know the first thing.” Her tone made it clear the subject was finished. If Queen Rianna was keeping secrets from her special forces, Tamsin was not about to question it.
They reached the gateway to the inner bailey. The fay official who came out to challenge them might have been the same one as on the previous evening. The look of contempt on his face was identical. He had a brief conversation with Tamsin.
She turned to Lori. “It’s all cleared for you to enter. Just follow the boggart.”
The guide in question was shuffling around inside the gates. The creature scurried off, but then stopped after a few yards, looking back, waiting for her. In the other direction, Tamsin returned down the steps, towards the mess hall.
Wait! Can’t you come with me? Lori bit back the words. The thought of being alone with the fay queen was deeply unsettling, but asking Tamsin to hold her hand was both childish and pointless. Time to put your big-girl pants on. Lori squared her shoulders.
As on the previous evening, her boggart guide took her over the drawbridge to the keep, However, rather than ascend the main staircase in the lobby, she was led through a small side door. The change in decor was immediately apparent. Ornate floor tiles were replaced by slate, and the walls were simple white plaster. While far from run down, this was clearly where the mundane side of castle life went on.
They passed a hive of boggart activity in the kitchens, before climbing a narrow spiral staircase, finally emerging on the left-hand balcony overlooking the deserted audience chamber. Daylight through the stained glass window now splashed red, yellow, and blue bands across walls and floor. Several doorways peppered the back wall of the gallery. The one they had just come through was the smallest, wedged onto a corner, and disguised to be as unobtrusive as possible.
I get it. I only qualify for the servants’ entrance.
No obvious staircase led to the main floor of the hall. Possibly it lay behind the door at the far end of the gallery. However, this remained a conjecture since, rather than leading her down, the boggart stopped outside an intervening doorway and babbled at her.
“This is where I’m supposed to go?” A logical conclusion.
More babbling.
Okay. Take it as a yes. After a moment to compose herself, Lori knocked on the door.
No one replied.
What next? She looked down at the boggart, who looked up at her. After a long, awkward pause, the creature tugged at the handle and the door opened. This was clearly the extent of its job remit. The boggart scuttled away, leaving Lori alone on the deserted balcony.
Still no sound came from within. She must be the first to arrive. Lori took a deep breath and entered what appeared to be a study or small office. A table stood in the middle of the room, strewn with scrolls and loose papers. Bookcases, charts, and maps lined three sides. The other wall had French doors, giving access to a balcony overlooking the glittering sea. Beside the window stood a tall cabinet.
The room was unmistakably for work rather than entertainment—no comfy chairs or cushions. The stools pushed under the table were purely functional. The cabinet looked as if it was made from recycled castle gates and intended to withstand a siege. The solid timbers were studded with iron rivets. The table would have been more at home in a farmhouse kitchen. The floorboards were swept clean, but without carpets or matting.
Easily the most eye-catching feature of the room was the view. The
right-hand side of the door was propped open, allowing a breeze to circulate. Lori stepped towards it, thinking to go onto the balcony, but stopped, realising she had been mistaken. She was not alone. A silent figure stood motionless in a corner.
He was human, in his fifties, and short for a man, no taller than Lori’s own five foot five. His build and features were nondescript, apart from his large bulbous nose and shiny bald head. He was dressed in a style similar to the fay, except the material did not shimmer, and his codpiece was less well padded. The colours were subdued greens and greys. His expression was utterly blank. His brown eyes were transfixed on the wall behind Lori. She glanced over her shoulder but could spot nothing of note.
She turned back. “Good morning.”
He gave the impression of not quite focusing on her. “Queen Rianna will be here shortly.” His voice was a dull monotone.
Great. “I’m Lauren Cooper. You can call me Lori.” She held out her hand.
The man did not respond.
She lowered her hand. “And you would be?”
Silence.
“Do you have a name?”
“Yes.” More silence.
“What is your name?”
“I am called Gaius.”
Gaius was either drugged or totally apathetic about life in general.
“Are you here to tell me about the document that needs decoding?” If so, unless he became more forthcoming, the task would be very tough going.
“Queen Rianna will be here shortly. She will provide all necessary instruction. I am here to assist.”
“Right.” This was going to be a bundle of laughs.
The study door opened and the queen swept in, minus retinue. Gaius bowed his head and stuck his clenched fist to his heart, making a solid thud. Was she supposed to kneel again or copy him? Gaius was not giving any hints. Hoping that going down on one knee was only required for public meetings, Lori settled for a less forceful version of his chest thump. She did not want to leave a bruise.
Without acknowledging either salute, Queen Rianna glided across the room. She pulled a key from a fine chain around her neck and unlocked the cabinet. The shelves inside held a diverse collection of objects, including a row of small stone statues, a fur hat, and what looked like a pair of rolled up rugs. Queen Rianna selected a scroll from a rack of diamond-shaped pigeonholes, then closed the cabinet door.
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