It was Annie who ushered Jenny into her master’s house. Her normally cheerful face was creased with worry.
‘Master Antrobus isn’t very well, dear. He really should have been resting instead of doing this and doing that. He told me to send for the physician. He said you had too much to do today to be looking after him. Dr Styche is with him now.’
Annie tutted and frowned as she talked, airing her opinion of Antrobus’s pigheadedness, while Jenny listened patiently.
‘He won’t be told. He thinks he can do anything and what goes for other people doesn’t hold for him. But anyone with the least bit of common sense would know that you don’t get up and run around after someone has pricked you with an arrow. Well, now he has to; he’s too weak to get out of bed.’
The good woman’s tirade was interrupted by the sound of someone descending the stairs. The sound was quickly followed by the black legs and then the complete person of Dr Styche.
‘Good morning, Dr Styche,’ said Jenny.
‘Good day to you, Jenny,’ said the doctor. ‘Richard sent me down when he heard you arrive. I am to tell you that he has sent for Kneeler to take you to be fitted for your colours and show you the Mystery. And to give you this.’
Styche held out an iron skeleton key. Jenny took it and looked at it blankly.
‘It’s the key to his work room in the palace. You will find books there and you are to take one – just one – to read when you will,’ explained Styche. ‘Kneeler will take you there – but on no account are you to allow him to enter. The man will want to; he’s incurably nosy.’
Jenny nodded. ‘How is ...?’
‘Now don’t you worry about your master. He just needs rest and some infusions of woundwort. He’ll be fine.’
They were interrupted by a sharp rapping on the door. ‘That will be Kneeler,’ Styche said. Annie came from the kitchen and bustled past to open the door.
The clerk stood in the doorway. He said not a word to Annie, but noticing Jenny and Styche behind her, he craned his head round the housekeeper’s ample form and peered into the house.
‘Good day, Dr Styche; how do you do, Mistress Swift?’ he cooed, pulling his soft flat cap from his head. ‘I do hope Master Antrobus is improving. I was quite distressed when I heard he was unwell. And though I am awash with paperwork and innumerable important tasks, I answered his summons immediately. Um, shall I enter?’
‘No need, Kneeler,’ the doctor said brusquely. ‘Mistress Swift is ready.’
Annie put one fist on her hip and shook the index finger of her other hand in Kneeler’s face. ‘Now, you mind to watch over her,’ she said severely. ‘Master Antrobus said she is to get her colours, then you must show her the Mystery. After that, take her to the master’s workplace at the palace.’
At the mention of Antrobus’s workroom, Kneeler’s eyes lit up. Styche, seeing the clerk’s sudden interest, added sternly, ‘She has strict instructions not to let you enter, so don’t try to wheedle your way in. Show her where it is, then leave her.’
Kneeler looked deeply hurt that anyone should think such a thing, but he had sense enough not to protest an innocence no one would believe. He bowed stiffly, and with Jenny – and his indignation – in tow, he set off to brave the busy streets of Vale.
Kneeler moved with surprising speed. He scuttled on spindly legs through the crowd, like a water skater on a glassy pond. He made for the Gates, the bustling market Jenny had visited the day before. Although the traders and hawkers were not there today, a constant sea of people still flowed through the square. Determined to keep up with her guide, she ignored the stares and muttering of those she passed.
Not once did the clerk speak to her. With the air of one burdened by a younger sibling, he made his way across the rough cobbles to a wide thoroughfare. The street was lined with shops, clustered according to the goods they sold: mercers, drapers, glove-makers and tailors; chandlers, cordwainers, embroiderers and needlemakers; silversmiths and goldsmiths; and further down Jenny could see the bakers, the barbers and the apothecaries.
Smaller alleys and lanes led off the thoroughfare, with more shops and artisans. To the right, towards the river that flowed under the outer wall, were tanners, dyers and butchers. Down the lanes on the left, closer to the palace, were blacksmiths, fletchers, armourers, gunsmiths and bowyers. And everywhere she looked, interspersed among the shops, were cosy pubs and inns.
Midway down the street, Kneeler turned abruptly and entered a shop with a heavy double door. The shopfront was wider than most of its neighbours and consisted almost entirely of paned glass. Above the central window hung a simple gold emblem: a crossed needle and rule. On the face of the building, in large Roman letters, was written B. Humbold, Livery Tailor.
If there was a man in Vale thinner than Kneeler, it was Bertram Humbold. It was said that when he stuck a pin through his sleeve for safekeeping he doubled his arm’s girth; and that he threaded a needle by tying the strand to his toe and putting his foot through the needle’s eye. But the lack of flesh on his bones was the only similarity Jenny was to find between the two men.
As the door closed behind them, Humbold looked up from the bolt of cloth on his cutting table. His eyes shot upwards and he peered over the top of his spectacles. Without a word he removed his spectacles, straightened his clothes, removed a single thread clinging to his tunic and came forward to greet his customers. He bowed to Jenny and, as his head rose, he smiled.
‘Mistress, welcome,’ he said in a high, but pleasant voice. His smile was genuine and he gave no sign of noticing Jenny’s poor clothes, nor the colour of her skin, nor the shape of her eyes. She bobbed her head and returned the smile. She noticed that the smile on his face faded as he turned to Kneeler.
‘Master Kneeler. You are well today?’ he said.
‘Most well,’ said Kneeler pompously. ‘We have come for her –’ he spoke the word dismissively ‘– colours.’
Unruffled by Kneeler’s rudeness, the tailor turned to Jenny.
‘Since we have not been introduced,’ he said pointedly, with a disparaging glance at Kneeler, ‘I shall have to guess which colours they might be. Would I be correct in saying that you are to join the Guild of Alchemists and Astronomers as an apprentice?’
Jenny figured it was more than a guess. She was getting used to people knowing who she was before she had been introduced. ‘Yes, sir,’ she answered politely.
‘Then you must be Mistress Swift,’ Bertram said and bowed his head once more. ‘I am pleased to meet you. My name is Bertram Humbold. Now, if you care to come with me, we’ll have you fitted in no time.’
“No time” would not have suited Jenny at all. Bertram was charming and good-humoured. He treated her just the same as he would a rich or well-connected lady. She enjoyed his courteous attention and his continual chatter.
‘There are certain tucks and folds I have to make to your clothes that I don’t normally need to make. You are not quite the same shape – arm up, please, that’s it – as the run-of-the-mill apprentices who come here. No slight intended, of course. A delightful change. But it requires some adjustments that will take me a little more time than usual. Oh dear, I’m all thumbs today, that’s the second pin I’ve dropped. Don’t be nervous; I’ve already pinned the collar. You won’t leave here feeling like you’d been bled by a physician. Ow! See, I’m in far more danger than you are. No, don’t fret. I promise not to bleed all over you. Arm out straight, now.’
When the pinning and tucking were finished, Bertram escorted Jenny to the door. Kneeler had not moved, his ill humour plainly showing. The tailor opened the door and offered a cursory nod to the sour-faced man. To Jenny, he gave a proper bow and a warm smile. He then bid them farewell, promising to have Jenny’s colours delivered before the week was out.
The door hadn’t even closed behind them when Kneeler muttered ‘This way’ and took off down the street in the direction of the palace. Jenny started to follow when a movement at the corner of the a
lley across the road caught her eye. She paused and saw a man watching her. When he noticed her glance his way, he ducked into the shadows of the alley. For a moment her heart raced. She was sure it was the man Rayker had called Nate; the man who had attacked her at the market.
Was it coincidence, or was he following her? She looked in the direction Kneeler had gone. He hadn’t bothered to wait and was almost out of sight. Jenny turned and hurried after him. Every once in a while she sneaked a look behind her, but she didn’t catch sight of the man again. Nonetheless, she walked with an uneasy tingling down her spine. Her hand went to the bag bumping gently against her hip.
She finally caught up with her escort just as they approached the end of the street. The character of the thoroughfare changed here. It became wider and considerably neater. In this part, the business of buying and selling was replaced by the business of advice and peace of mind. Instead of shops and merchants, there were offices and professionals: solicitors, bankers, notaries and clerks. From within their double-fronted and double- or triple-storeyed offices, they vied respectably and quietly for business. The nearer they came to the end of the street, the larger and more solid became the buildings lining it, until, at the very end, were the impressive stone offices of the richest bankers and the most learned solicitors.
The street itself ended in a large round court; to a bird flying overhead (well, one that had need to check the weather) the street would have looked like a long thermometer. Where it widened to form the circle of bluestone that paved the street, the places of business ended. The perimeter of the court was lined with flower beds and well-tended grass. The flowers were generally still in their winter sleep, though here and there a few early risers had pushed through to enjoy the early spring. Four tidy narrow streets, two on the east side and two on the west, radiated from the court, and in its very centre was a fountain of spouting dolphins riding a wave. On their backs was an enormous scallop shell, and in the centre of the shell stood a statue of a beautiful woman holding a pitcher from which poured more water.
It was the building at the very end of the street that was Kneeler’s destination. It was an imposing but simple structure; solid, respectable and functional. Suitably for a building of commerce and power, it said to all that the business conducted inside was serious and important.
Kneeler stopped at the large wooden doors in the centre of a portico. Jenny stood on the bluestone at the edge of its fluted pillars.
‘This,’ he said, waving his hand in the direction of the courtyard they had just crossed, ‘is called Mystery Circus.’ Then he added, with a slight sneer, ‘In case you can’t find it again. And this,’ and he waved at the building in whose shadow they stood, ‘is Vale’s Mystery. Our Guildhall. This is where the real business of Vale is conducted, and where its true power lies.’
Jenny nodded absently. She was impressed by the building, perhaps even awed, but at the same time, its size and permanence gave her a feeling of sadness. It was as remote and alien to the world in which she grew up as she could imagine; and it made her feel even further away from Queerwood.
She looked down the line of pillars to her right – and her heart froze. Skulking behind the furthest pillar was the man she had seen ducking into the alley. Now she was sure it was Nate. Just as he slipped from view, Jenny saw him nod to someone across the circus. She glanced down the row of pillars to her left, and saw another man leaning against the last stone column. He looked as dirty and shabby as the first man and he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. Jenny was certain: she was being followed – and there were now two to deal with.
‘Come, come,’ said Kneeler impatiently. ‘I’ll show you where you must be for the Pledge. It’s still nearly a fortnight away, but many of the apprentices come two or three times to rehearse. The village clods in particular always stand when they should sit and speak when they should be silent. The thick are wise to practise. You may wish to do the same.’
Jenny gritted her teeth at Kneeler’s snobbery. Biting back a retort, she followed him through the doors of the Mystery. For a moment, she wondered whether she should tell him about the two men. She looked at his thin frame scuttling across the tiled floor of the foyer and decided he wouldn’t be much help. For now, she was on her own.
The great Guildhall was as impressive on the inside as it was from without. Clerks, scribes and officials bustled about, going in one door and coming out another; or hurrying up and down the large central staircase at the end of the foyer. Most were too busy with their errands to take any notice of another clerk and a poorly dressed young girl, but one pair caught sight of her and stopped in their tracks to look more intently. Jenny could hear them muttering and see the sideways glances they gave her. If Kneeler noticed, he gave no indication of it. Nodding to many of the hurrying figures as he went, he made straight for a pair of double doors with bright brass hinges and handles. He stopped in front of the doors.
‘In there,’ he said to Jenny. He spoke quickly and abruptly. ‘The Mystery Hall. That’s where the ceremony of the Pledge will take place. Apprentices gather here, in their guilds. When you go in, you’ll see signs marking where apprentices from each guild should gather. Find your sign and take your seat. There will be others from your guild; two, I think. Just follow what everyone else does, say “yes” when asked a question and otherwise keep silent. All clear? Good.’
Without waiting for any response from Jenny, Kneeler turned and headed up the broad, sweeping stairs. He started by taking the stairs two at a time, but within half a dozen steps his legs surrendered and he paused for breath, then continued less ambitiously one step at a time. Jenny, whose legs had been tempered by running through the paths of Queerwood, kept pace easily, then thoughtfully slowed when the clerk faltered.
With just as little explanation, he showed her the Grand Dining Room where all the apprentices would gather after the Pledge for lunch. And again, his only advice was to stay with others of her guild. And then he dashed down the stairs, his speed of foot governed only by the soreness of his calves and the pain in his lungs.
Once again, Kneeler led the way into the streets of the city. Much to Jenny’s relief, he did not use the main doors through which they had entered the Guildhall; perhaps, she thought, they would lose the two men who were trailing her. Instead, he led her out by a small door at the back of the building and then through a large, peaceful garden fenced by a thick hedge of yew trees. In one corner was a little gate. It creaked pitifully when Kneeler opened it and Jenny couldn’t help but imagine that Kneeler’s knees must have wanted to make the same noise when he was bounding up the stairs.
Once through the hedge, Jenny was surprised to see how close they were to the palace. They made their way around the outside until they came to a small archway barred by a stout door with a grille. Kneeler rang the bell next to the door; a white-haired guard peered hard at Kneeler, and even harder at Jenny, before admitting them. Past the archway, they found themselves in a warren of walkways, corridors and passages. Not once did Kneeler bother to explain where they were, or offer suggestions that might help Jenny remember the way another time; he kept a steady, silent pace, barely looking back at her.
From the condition of the walls and timbers, Jenny guessed they were in one of the older parts of the palace. Clearly, in some bygone era, Vale was a much smaller city, and the palace was correspondingly modest. Yet it was that very age that provided some of the character of modern Vale, in the way that the past can be seen in the eyes of old folk.
There were few people walking the halls, and those that did were simply dressed. They looked like labourers or manual crafts folk. Antrobus had chosen a quiet part of the palace where he could work undisturbed; a place where the vapours of experiments and the bursts of noise from unexpected reactions would not cause alarm or comment. Surrounded by storerooms, cupboards and other workshops, within rooms with thick walls that were once also fortifications, he could work in peace.
Jenny had lost track of the co
rridors they had travelled, and how many sets of stairs they had climbed by the time Kneeler stopped so suddenly that she nearly ran into the back of him. He stood in front of an arched stone doorway in which was set two thick wooden doors with plain black hinges and metalwork. The door handle of one was a large round ring set above a scratched and worn keyhole. The clerk jerked his head towards the doors.
‘This is it,’ he said.
Jenny took the key from her pocket and stepped past Kneeler. She put the key in its lock and turned it. She felt the mechanism click and heard the snap as the lock bolt slid back.
‘I’ll just see you safely inside and make sure you have light,’ said Kneeler. For the first time since they had left Antrobus’s house, his shrill voice was polite and a look of attentive concern came to his face. For an instant his manner almost tempted Jenny to accept his offer.
‘That’s kind of you, Master Kneeler,’ she said, ‘but you obviously have a lot of other things to do. I won’t keep you any longer.’
‘Truly, it’s no bother,’ Kneeler said. His protest increased the shrillness of his voice and Jenny nearly winced. ‘Don’t take any notice of what Dr Styche was saying. It’s just his way. Antrobus won’t mind me making sure you’re safe and settled inside.’
‘I am sure that Master Antrobus is confident that I can light a few candles unaided. And I doubt I’m in any danger in the middle of the Duke’s palace,’ Jenny replied firmly. ‘Thank you again for your help this morning, Master Kneeler. I shall tell Master Antrobus just how helpful and attentive you have been.’
Kneeler glanced at the door, then at Jenny. Wisely, he came to the conclusion that the slight young girl wasn’t going to be bullied. Pursing his lips, he turned about and walked back down the corridor. Perhaps remembering Jenny’s words, he stopped, faced the young apprentice and gave a barely courteous bow, then hurried away.
As he disappeared from view, Jenny realised that she didn’t have a clue how to get back to Antrobus’s, or to Rumpkin’s for that matter. She’d never remember the way through the labyrinth of passageways and corridors. Well, she’d just have to ask someone for directions. Anyway, what occupied her most just then was seeing the alchemist’s workshop. She pushed the door; it slowly swung inward and she stepped inside.
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