The Gimlet Eye

by James Roy

  ‘He’d never let anyone see him run,’ replied Tab. ‘How undignified!’

  ‘He’s definitely in a hurry, though,’ said Philmon.

  They jogged after him and, after pushing through the crowds near the palace and in the streets nearby, they finally caught up near the Old Tree Guesthouse.

  ‘Fontagu! Hold up a minute,’ Tab called, but he didn’t appear to have heard her. He just carried on walking.

  ‘Fontagu!’ she called again. ‘Font –’ Her voice caught in her throat as a short, red-headed man stepped out of a doorway, and straight into the path of Fontagu, who took a sudden, uncertain backward step.

  Judging by his broad shoulders and his hefty arms, the red-headed man had once been powerful. Much of that bulk had now softened, and following the laws of age and gravity, had transformed into a heavy gut. Even so, he still formed enough of an imposing figure to intimidate Fontagu.

  ‘Who is that?’ Philmon said.

  ‘Just wait,’ Tab replied, reaching out and holding Philmon back by the arm. ‘Let’s see what this is all about.’

  ‘We can’t hear what they’re saying anyway.’

  ‘Just wait,’ Tab said again.

  She was glad of that decision a moment later, when they saw the red-headed man step behind Fontagu, pinning his arm behind him. A flash of fear flickered across Fontagu’s face, and as he was half-guided, half-pushed into the doorway, Tab saw the glint of something shiny held against the small of his back.

  ‘Now what do you suppose that’s all about?’ Philmon wondered aloud.

  ‘Have you ever seen that man before? Because I’m sure I haven’t,’ Tab said.

  Philmon shook his head.

  ‘Huh,’ Tab remarked to herself, turning to look behind them. ‘What do you think we should do – follow them?’

  ‘No need,’ Philmon replied, as Fontagu reappeared, staggering slightly as he stepped down onto the pavement. His face was pale and his eyes wide as he glanced up and down the street, before setting off towards home. A moment later the red-headed man appeared as well. He too looked furtively up and down before limping up the hill towards Tab and Philmon, who did their best to melt into the crowd as he hurried past.

  ‘What was that smell?’ Tab said when he’d gone.

  ‘Tigerplums,’ Philmon replied. ‘He was eating one.’

  ‘Really? Why?’

  ‘Some people like them.’

  ‘Yes, crazy people.’

  ‘Didn’t you see the colour of his mouth? All stained yellow.’

  ‘I didn’t see – I was too busy trying not to vomit from the smell. It stinks worse than Vlod’s spoiled boingy deer meat. Come on,’ Tab said, and they ran down the hill in pursuit of Fontagu.

  They caught up with him a couple of streets later. He’d been making very good time.

  ‘Fontagu!’ Tab panted as they reached him.

  He spun around, his hand to his chest. Then the back of his hand went to his forehead. For a moment, Tab wondered if he was about to pass out. ‘Oh Tab, must you startle a chap so? You know my disposition is delicate!’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure it is, especially after you’ve been held up at knife point.’

  ‘Whatever are you talking about, my dear child?’

  ‘We saw you,’ Philmon said. ‘We saw that man with you.’

  ‘Yes, that stinky, stinky man. Who was he?’ asked Tab. ‘And what did he want?’

  Fontagu gave a forced laugh. ‘Oh, that? That was nothing! That was just a … a fellow actor, a thespian such as I. We were practising a scene.’ He tried to smile.

  Tab and Philmon simply frowned at him. ‘Do you always rehearse in the middle of the street?’ Philmon asked. ‘Or in dark doorways?’

  ‘Come on, Fontagu, we’re not complete idiots,’ Tab said.

  Fontagu slumped a little. ‘You’re right, of course. He wasn’t a colleague.’

  ‘So who was he?’

  Fontagu’s usual demeanour was already starting to return. He flicked back his cape, adopted his dramatic wide-legged stance. ‘You know, children, you don’t have to know everything about my affairs. I am, after all, a grown-up.’

  ‘We know,’ Tab replied. ‘It’s just –’

  ‘So don’t be so nosy! Goodness me, you’d think that you were my sainted parents, the way you follow me around, constantly spying on me!’

  ‘Did he have anything to do with your appointment at the court?’ Tab asked.

  ‘Or The Gimlet Eye?’ Philmon added.

  For a moment Fontagu was completely lost for words. It was something they very rarely saw. ‘The Gimlet … How would you know about The Gimlet Eye? You have been spying on me!’

  Neither Tab nor Philmon felt that they were in a position to disagree. ‘It’s because we worry about you,’ Tab explained.

  ‘Worry? About me? Why would you worry about me?’

  Tab began to count off on her fingers as she spoke. ‘You got ambushed by the Tolrushians, you betrayed Quentaris under so-called torture …’

  ‘It was torture!’

  ‘… you smuggled the Equen Queen onto Quentaris …’

  ‘Not to mention that you stole an icefire gem and uttered a spell that sent Quentaris spinning into one vortex after the next,’ Philmon said.

  Fontagu’s eyes flashed indignantly. ‘You have never heard anyone accuse me of that!’ he said defiantly.

  ‘Only because the one person who saw you do it – me! – has never told any of the people she might have told.’ Tab raised her arms high, pointing to the masts, rigging and great sails overhead. ‘All of this is your doing, Fontagu. All of it! If anyone ever found out, they’d string you up in the Square of the People until the crows had pecked out your eyes, before throwing you to the scavenjaws.’

  Fontagu winced. ‘Don’t say that. Please.’

  ‘All I’m saying is that you haven’t exactly been the perfect citizen up to now, so we worry about what you might get up to next. Or who might catch up with you,’ she added.

  Fontagu’s chin was crumpling as he fought back tears. ‘I do appreciate your concern, children, most sincerely I do. I am ever so touched. But you must trust me when I say that everything is under control. And with that said, I must take my leave. I have a great deal of preparation to … to prepare. Yes, that’s right, to prepare. So goodbye now.’

  He turned then, and with a clumsy flourish of his cape he strode away. But his stride lacked some of its usual arrogance, as if some of his pride had leaked out of a small rupture in his side.

  ‘“Trust me”, he says,’ Philmon muttered. ‘I wouldn’t trust that man as far as I could spit.’

  ‘Did you notice anything missing?’ Tab said.

  ‘Like what? Tab? Where are you going?’ He jogged after Tab, who had turned and was striding up the hill, back towards the palace.

  ‘Did you notice anything missing?’ Tab repeated when he’d caught up to her. ‘What was Fontagu carrying when he left the palace?’

  ‘Um … just his script.’

  ‘And did he have it just then?’

  Philmon frowned as he tried to remember. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘So either he dropped his script, or Red-head took it. And I doubt that he’d drop something so precious. And did you notice how Fontagu managed to avoid telling us how he knew Red-head?’

  ‘So where are we going now?’

  ‘We’re going after Red-head, obviously.’

  ‘What are you going to say to him?’

  Tab stopped and regarded Philmon for a long moment. ‘I’m going to ask him why he was so mean to our friend Fontagu,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Honestly, Philmon, you must think that I’m quite the idiot.’

  ‘I just wondered.’

  ‘All I’m going to do is follow him.’

  ‘Can I come?’

  ‘I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.’

  INTENTIONAL TOURISTS

  Tab and Philmon ran. Red-head was out of sight, but they were well p
ractised at spotting particular people in a crowd, and before too long they saw him, limping, but limping quickly.

  ‘I bet he’s going to the palace,’ Philmon said.

  ‘Of course he is. The only thing is, I didn’t see him there when I was mind-melding with that pigeon.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean anything. He might have been in another room.’

  They followed Red-head at a safe distance, and eventually they saw that Philmon had been right. The man strode confidently – if slightly lop-sidedly – to the guards who stood at the front gate of the palace. He nodded to them in a very familiar manner, before simply strolling in.

  ‘I knew it!’ said Philmon.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Tab replied. ‘Come on, follow my lead.’ And without giving Philmon a chance to respond or refuse, she wandered over to one of the guards at the gate.

  The soldier regarded them with a wary look. ‘What does you want?’ he asked in a strange, clipped accent.

  ‘Oh no, we’re perfectly all right,’ said Tab. She looked up at the front gate of the palace and whistled in awe.

  The guard shook his head. ‘No, you no all right. You leaving, is what you are.’

  ‘But we’re tourists,’ Tab replied.

  ‘You no tourists,’ the guard argued. ‘They no have tourists in Quentaris since before the Spell of the Undoing.’

  ‘If we weren’t tourists, we’d know that already, wouldn’t we?’ Tab replied.

  The guard frowned as he thought this over. It seemed like quite a lot for his brain to process. Then, suddenly, he lowered the tip of his halberd. ‘You must think I a complete eediot,’ he said.

  ‘Oh no, not at all. We don’t, do we?’ Tab asked Philmon, who simply shook his head. ‘So, you work here, do you?’ she went on.

  The guard said nothing. Instead, he patted his halberd.

  ‘Of course,’ Tab giggled. ‘Silly me! So, you’re a real palace guard! I suppose you’d know everyone here, probably?’

  The guard shrugged. ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘You see, we’re from out of town, like we said …’

  ‘Tourists,’ Philmon interjected.

  ‘Yes, and we thought we saw someone we knew.’

  ‘Really?’ The guard seemed rather disinterested. ‘Who you think you know?’

  ‘The man with the red hair who came through a couple of minutes ago. Short.’

  ‘Fat,’ said Philmon.

  ‘And with a limp.’

  ‘Hmm,’ the guard replied.

  ‘What was his name?’ Tab enquired.

  ‘I can no tell you that.’

  ‘Was it Asro Mendeley?’ she asked, plucking a random name out of her head.

  The guard shook his head. ‘That’s no his name.’

  ‘But I’m close, right? Asro Melando?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No, no. Astrin Nando?’ Tab clicked her fingers, then thumped her forehead with her fist. ‘Oh, it’s on the tip of my … Argo Nadro –’

  ‘Kalip Rendana.’

  ‘Ah!’ said Tab, slapping Philmon on the arm. ‘Of course! Kalip Rendana!’

  ‘I told you,’ Philmon said. ‘I told you it was Kalip Redondo!’

  ‘Rendana,’ Tab corrected him. ‘And he’s in charge of the kitchen in the palace, right?’

  The guard sniggered. ‘Hey,’ he called to the other guard, who was standing on the opposite side of the wide stairs leading up to the huge main doors of the palace. ‘This lot reckon Rendana work in the kitchen!’

  The second guard spluttered with laughter. ‘If he hear you say that he run you through with his leetle knife!’

  ‘His little knife?’ Tab asked.

  ‘That’s right. He a friend of Janus.’

  Tab snapped her fingers. ‘Of course! Yes, I remember now! Kalip Rendana! Yes, I saw him nod to you, though. Both of you! You know him. You actually know Kalip Rendana?’

  ‘Sure I do,’ said the first guard. ‘We both do – him and me. Know him for years. We used to work for him, before we come aboard back when Quentaris was over Unja Ballis. He got us this job. Us and plenty our friends working in palace now. This job good job.’

  ‘Aha!’ Tab nodded. ‘So you came aboard from Unja Ballis! I knew I’d never seen him before.’

  The guard frowned. ‘I thought you say you tourists. You not tourists at all! You both from Quentaris.’

  Tab bit her bottom lip. ‘Oops. Well thanks, it’s been … Bye!’

  And she and Philmon turned and ran.

  * * *

  ‘Who is it?’ Fontagu called, his voice sounding strained, and muffled through the heavy door.

  ‘It’s me, Tab.’

  ‘Can’t you children leave me alone?’

  ‘It’s just me,’ Tab replied. ‘I need to talk to you.’

  ‘So you can insult me again?’

  ‘It’s not like that, Fontagu. Can’t you just let me in?’

  She heard him sigh. ‘Hold on.’ A moment later the door rattled and swung open. By the time the gap was wide enough to let Tab see inside, Fontagu had already crossed the room and was sitting at his crowded desk once more, and his quill was scratching away at a sheet of parchment. ‘Close the door behind you,’ she heard him mutter.

  Tab did as he said, then stood inside the doorway. Ordinarily she’d have sat herself down without a second thought, but this time she could feel the tension thick in the air between them. ‘Fontagu, I don’t want to fight,’ she said at last.

  ‘What makes you think that I do?’ he replied, without even glancing up. ‘Look, Tab, unless you’ve got something new to say to me, you should just save your breath and go.’

  ‘I do have something new to say. I know who the red-headed man is.’

  Fontagu still hadn’t looked in her direction, but she saw his pen stop moving. ‘Even after we talked about this, you’re still spying on me?’

  ‘Fontagu, I told you, it was only because we care about you. We worry about you. Especially when we discover that the man who held you up in the street is actually working for Florian.’

  Fontagu’s eyebrows flickered in a tiny frown. ‘What do you know about it?’

  ‘I know that his name is Kalip Rendana, and he came aboard Quentaris back when we were over Unja Ballis, a couple of months back. And he works for Florian’s man Janus.’

  ‘Does he indeed?’ said Fontagu, but his gulp gave him away.

  ‘He does. And he took your play, didn’t he?’

  Fontagu finally broke down, dropping his forehead onto his desk and beginning to sob. ‘Yes, he took my play – my only copy. He said there had to be changes made.’

  ‘What kind of changes?’

  ‘He wouldn’t say. All he would tell me was that Janus was very keen to see one or two changes made to the original version of The Gimlet Eye.’

  ‘Which he’s going to make himself ?’

  ‘I think so. But no one was to know that Janus had made the changes. That’s why he sent Rendana after me. The new parts are going to be a birthday surprise or something. It’s all very hush-hush.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Tab said. ‘Why would Janus care so much about some play that he would take the time to make changes himself ?’

  Fontagu shrugged. He seemed so dejected. ‘I don’t suppose it matters now anyway. It won’t be the same classic story any more.’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ replied Tab, who was now deep in thought. ‘But it does seem weird, doesn’t it?’

  * * *

  Amelia yawned. ‘I don’t understand why it’s so important,’ she said.

  Tab frowned. Perhaps a crowded tavern wasn’t the best place to be discussing the big secrets of Quentaris. She gestured for Amelia to come closer. Then she lowered her voice. ‘What’s important is that Fontagu agreeing to do the play was already dangerous enough. But now this … this person is threatening him. Fontagu thinks it’s all about a birthday surprise, but I don’t believe him. I mean, a knife? No, this Rendana’s definitely threate
ning him.’

  Amelia flipped her table-wiping cloth over her left shoulder and slipped into the seat opposite Tab. Then she leaned forward and took Tab’s hands in hers. ‘You’ve got a very short memory, Tab. Someone is threatening Fontagu – so what? Don’t you remember all the things he’s done?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘He’s got no conscience at all. None! He does whatever he likes, as long as it suits one person – him.’

  ‘I know, but I think he’s changed, Amelia.’

  Amelia didn’t seem convinced. ‘Do you really? I don’t know …’

  ‘Look, all I know is that Fontagu has been asked to put on a play for Florian –’

  ‘A mistake,’ said Amelia.

  ‘True, but even so, he’s going to do it. And now his play’s been stolen.’

  ‘Don’t you mean borrowed?’

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘Like I said, what does it matter? He’ll get it back. Janus probably just wants to make sure that it’s full of praise for the great and wondrous Florian. He’s being a good subject.’

  ‘Do you think?’

  ‘I do. I also think you’ve been spending so much time with your actor friend that you’re becoming as dramatic as he is.’

  Tab bit her lip and thought about what Amelia had said. Maybe she was right. Maybe Fontagu was over-reacting, and maybe she was as well. It was quite possible that Rendana was simply the runner for Janus, who was just making sure that the play was perfectly suited to the big occasion of Florian’s birthday. But even thinking this, she still came back to the knife …

  ‘You’re probably right, Amelia,’ Tab said at last, standing up. ‘I’d better get back to the farm before Bendo notices I’m gone. Again.’

  ‘Hunker down those shickins properly,’ Amelia warned her. ‘There’s talk of another vortex tonight.’

  Tab frowned. ‘Another one? It’s been less than a week since the last one!’

  ‘I know. Something’s going on.’

  ‘You can say that again. Where do you hear this stuff, anyway?’

  ‘Just chat in the tavern, mostly.’

  ‘You haven’t been heading down into Skulum Gate to get the inside information, have you?’

  ‘As if I would! But you’d best go. It’ll be getting dark soon, and you’ve got to walk right past Skulum Gate as it is. Then Bendo will be the least of your problems.’