by Nina Clare
“What are the duties of a special assistant?”
“I’m not sure. I’m not supposed to tell anyone. It’s a secret, though it must be all right to tell you,” she said a little doubtfully.
“But who is he an assistant to?” My curiosity was awakened.
“I don’t know. He’s not allowed to say, not even to me. If he tells then we’ll be punished—punished badly—Jem thinks we might even be killed. That’s all he would say. It’s something he has to do for the king, but it’s a secret.” She said the last words in a near whisper.
While Rose finished plaiting my hair, I turned this over in my mind. What secret work could Uncle have for a young servant boy that no one was allowed to know about? And I recalled the shadowy young figure I had seen slipping through Uncle’s hidden door—the boy who had disappeared up the stairs to the turret where a strange, unnatural light seeped out. I was suddenly quite convinced the boy I had seen was Jem.
“Where does your brother go to do his secret work?”
Rose looked troubled. “Oh, Princess. I hope I haven’t done wrong in speaking of it to you.”
“Do not fret,” I reassured her. “I would not betray you. I know how vengeful Uncle can be, and I would not see harm come to you or your brother.”
“I don’t know where he goes. He won’t say. But . . . Princess . . .” she dropped her voice and glanced over her shoulder even though the bedchamber curtain was drawn. “I do so worry about him, because of what I sometimes hear the others saying.”
“What others? What do they say?”
“The other servants. The ones who have been here a long time. They say he’s the next one who’ll go.” She looked frightened.
“Go where?”
“Disappear! Sometimes a servant boy disappears and then a new one takes his place. Always they’re orphans, and they say Jem’s taken the place of the last one who vanished!”
“Are you certain? Surely not!”
Rose nodded, and tears filled her eyes a second time. “He’s all I have,” she said piteously. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see father again, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see John again. I can’t lose Jem as well.”
“Who is John?”
“Our friend. He’s like family.”
“Like a brother?”
“Kind of . . . but . . . no. Not like a brother.” She had flushed a little, and looked exactly as my sisters looked when they spoke the names of their betrothed.
“John worked with father as his apprentice in managing the lands,” she continued. “He vowed to go away with father to help him, said he wouldn’t let him go alone. He said he’d come for me as soon as he could. He’d come for us. But . . .” She could speak no more.
I could not bear witnessing her misery. But I did not know what I could do to help.
I decided I must speak to Beryl.
Chapter Sixteen
“Beryl, I know who it was in Uncle’s private chambers that night!” I said excitedly, almost breathless from running to find her that morning. She was on her way to the jewel house. Now that the wedding rings were finished, she was assisting Lapido on the work for the coronation crowns.
“Do you?” she said. Not sounding in the least part surprised.
“It is my maid’s brother—I am quite sure it is! Rose says he is working for Uncle and he has replaced another boy who has gone missing. And boys keep going missing—and—”
“Calm down, dear.”
“But, Beryl! If it is true, then he is in great danger—and he is all she has got left in the world!”
Beryl stopped walking and turned to me. She took hold of my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “Princess, do not speak of this to anyone, and do not try anything foolish that will arouse your Uncle’s attention. You will let me deal with this.”
“But what will you do?”
“Never you mind.” And she walked on.
***
It was the day before the weddings. The seamstresses bustled in and out of our chambers fitting the gowns and putting on finishing touches and making last-minute alterations. Watching through the leaded windowpanes, I could see the gardeners almost stripping bare the cutting gardens for the flower arrangers who were carrying in armfuls of greenery, berry-laden branches, and baskets of flowers to decorate the Great Hall.
The Pleasure Gardens were being prepared for the archery tournaments and the swordsmanship displays; pavilions and canopies with tables and seats were being erected. There were to be three whole days of lavish celebrations and entertainments.
Minstrels and musicians, madrigals and jesters swarmed around the outer walls of the palace, singing and juggling, playing music, and telling stories for all their worth so as to win a place at the celebrations the following day. The palace was so full of excited commotion and clamour I felt the very stone walls and flagstone floors were quivering with anticipation.
“I wonder how our betrothed are faring,” pondered Amethyst as she strummed a few notes on her lute.
“Oh, that it were not the tradition for us not to see them before the wedding,” lamented Nel.
“Traditions can be such a bore,” agreed Celestine.
“Uncle has sent the princes out hunting today,” said Chalcedony.
“That is very generous of him,” commented Heliodor. “We know how Uncle feels about his game.”
Uncle was indeed very proud and possessive of his well-stocked woods, his meadows of deer and fowl, and his lakes of fish and swans. He rarely permitted guests to hunt in them. Only the most important of visitors, those whom he wanted to especially impress—or needed to please—were invited to hunt in the royal grounds.
“Uncle has equipped them with the best horses in the stables and the best of the hunting weaponry,” Emerald informed us.
“That is very generous of him,” remarked Opal. “He must be getting accustomed to the idea of resigning as king.”
A loud, inelegant snort of disbelief followed this thought. Everyone turned to look at me.
“You disagree, Princess?” asked Almandine, her perfectly shaped eyebrows raised.
“I find it hard to believe Uncle has changed his mind so suddenly,” I replied. “He has been in the foulest of moods ever since he was coerced into hosting the betrothal banquets.”
“But what other explanation can there be for his sudden hospitality?” asked Diamond.
“I do not know,” I said. “But I do know Uncle.”
“Oh, Princess, you worry too much,” said Sapphire. “Even Uncle is capable of doing good once in a while.”
“Hmm . . .” was all I could doubtfully reply.
All morning I was obliged to help with the gown fittings and preparations, but while I was rolling ribbons and fetching gloves and holding pincushions and finding thimbles, I kept wondering to myself why Uncle had suddenly decided to be so agreeable to my sisters’ bridegrooms. I had not forgotten the malevolent tone in his voice when Beryl and I had seen him in his private chambers. “Let them make fools of themselves,” he had said. “But they won’t make a fool out of me.” I recalled the jet-black eyes and the sneering smile on his face as he spoke those words—the very same eyes and sneer that had stared out at me from the portrait of the Dark Prince.
No, I thought, Uncle has not suddenly changed his mind. I could not shake off the heavy sense of foreboding that had cloaked me all morning.
The hours passed. Everyone was too excited to eat much at midday dinner. Early afternoon passed.
And then the messenger came.
The messenger was a senior servant—he had officiated as the Master of the Banquet on our feast nights, and he had known us all our lives. He stood in the doorway to our chamber. He simply stood there, saying nothing—unable to speak the message he had been sent to deliver. His customary jolly smile had been replaced with a strange expression. His usually cherry-cheeked face was the colour of drained whey.
Something was wrong.
Only the maid who had
opened the door and I had noticed his arrival. My sisters were still engrossed in their work.
I moved to the door to speak with him. He looked at me, and I could see his eyes filling with tears and turning to watery blue puddles in his colourless face.
Something was very wrong.
“What is the message?” I asked, afraid of his reply.
Amethyst’s lute playing ceased when she noticed the opened door.
He stood there in silence, as if turned to stone. Then a tear trickled from his eye and rolled slowly down the deep lines of his face. He had watched us grow up from babies. He could not speak.
Beryl appeared behind him, hurrying towards our chamber.
“What has happened?” I asked her.
“Oh, my dear. You must be very brave,” she said, bustling in. She took my hand. “I will tell them, Han,” she said to the messenger.
He nodded once. A second tear rolled down his face. Then he turned away.
“Beryl, do look at this beading. Is it not exquisite?” called out Celestine.
“Beryl, please help me decide the arrangement of this posy,” said Sapphire.
“My dear girls,” said Beryl in a grave voice, moving to the centre of the chamber and still holding fast my hand. “I must tell you something, and you must have courage.”
“Do not tell me the cook has burned the wedding cakes,” said Peridot.
My sisters laughed.
“No,” said Beryl. “This is something serious.”
“Is it a problem with the rings?” asked Chalcedony.
“No, dear, it is not the rings. It is much more significant.”
All eyes turned to her.
“Sit down,” Beryl said gently but firmly. “Maids, you will all leave.” The ladies’ maids and seamstresses stared at her. They had pins in their mouths, ribbons draped over their shoulders, and hands full of lace and silks and scissors and needles. Slowly, they all trickled out in a beribboned parade, looking at one another wonderingly. Beryl closed the door behind them.
I sat on a dressing-table stool and waited.
“My dears, something has happened to your princes.”
There was a collective gasp, and twelve pairs of hands flew to twelve faces.
“Girls, take heart and listen. They went out hunting this morning. A short while ago, a man came to the palace with some disturbing news. He had found what looked like the remains of clothing and weaponry. It appeared as if a party of noblemen out hunting had been attacked by a pack of large wild animals.”
There was a stunned silence. Someone began whimpering.
“Girls, listen carefully,” said Beryl. “They did not find any bodies, only clothes. The horses scattered and have been returning one by one to the stables. So no matter what you hear, I want you to remember no bodies have been found.”
“But if they found their clothes,” cried Nel, jumping to her feet, “that is evidence enough!” She froze in a pose of despair with tightly gripped hands, looking like a marble statue of a tragic maiden.
“Things are not always as they seem,” said Beryl.
“What do you mean?” asked Opal in a choked voice.
“I mean there may be more to this than we can see at this time. You are not to give way to despair.”
“Do you think someone killed them? A person, instead of animals?” asked Emerald in a near whisper, as if she could not bear to say the awful words aloud.
“There are no bodies, is what I think,” repeated Beryl.
She spoke firmly, and when Beryl spoke in that tone, it was impossible not to listen to her. She had an authority about her that was solid and sure. If Beryl says something is, then it is. And if Beryl says something is not, then it is not.
My sisters nodded woodenly, but it was clear they were in shock.
“Good,” said Beryl. “I wish I could stay and comfort you, but I need to find out what is happening. Remember, my dears, you are not to give way to despair.”
Chapter Seventeen
The palace was now transformed into a very different place. It was as though the blessing of the coming royal weddings had been an illusion and now a curse had settled upon the kingdom.
Instead of the previous bustle and busyness, everyone now seemed to move very slowly, as though in a dream. Instead of noise and laughter and shouts from the courtyards, there was a strange quietness. There were low, subdued voices; there was a hollowness to the footsteps in the halls and walkways. The banging of pots in the kitchens, the cleaning of fireplace grates, the clatter of the horses on the cobbled stable yards—all had a flat, depressed sound. Only the birds outside still sang and flitted and warbled as if it really were just an ordinary autumn day.
The Lord High Chancellor, the senior government ministers, and the chief noblemen were all to be seen coming and going from the palace, having countless meetings with Uncle. The Proclaimer was sent out to the city square to deliver the news to the people, informing them the twelve princes betrothed to the twelve princesses of Cataluna had perished in a hunting tragedy, having been attacked by wolves. Huntsmen were sent out to track down the pack of beasts. Couriers had been dispatched with letters to the princes’ kingdoms to deliver the bad tidings. My sisters would not leave their chambers. Only Beryl could save them from sinking into a mourning deep enough to drown in.
“Are you well, Princess?” Rose asked when she brought some refreshment to me later that day. She herself looked dazed and pale.
“I am well,” I answered. “It is my sisters who suffer most. What are the servants saying? Will there be trouble amongst the people now Uncle is to remain king?”
“It’s all the servants talk about.”
“I suppose they say this is what comes of trying to marry into a family of thirteen daughters?”
Rose did not reply, which confirmed my notion.
“I think there will be trouble if the king doesn’t find another husband for the eldest princess,” she said.
“Diamond would never marry anyone else now,” I said.
I looked at the food Rose had arranged so prettily for me. She had decorated the platter with herb leaves and flowers and late-summer fruit, but I had lost my appetite.
“How is your brother?” I asked.
“I hardly see him these days.” Her head drooped. “He’s kept so busy.”
“With his secret work?”
She nodded.
“You are still concerned for him?”
“More than ever.”
“Why?”
“Oh, Princess! He’s so different of late. Sometimes he’s just not the same Jem he was.”
“How is he different?”
He’s . . . I don’t know the word for it . . . but he’s proud and full of himself and it’s like he’s looking down on everyone else.”
“Arrogant is the word, I believe.”
“Is it? Jem would know. He’s good with words.” She smiled wistfully. “But then sometimes he’s not arrogant. He’s the same Jem as he always was, cheeky and lively, kind at heart. I don’t understand.”
I had a suspicion that the secret work Jem was involved in was somehow linked to the unexplained and strange events which were happening.
“Tell him to come and speak with me,” I said. Rose looked surprised. “Do you know where is now?”
“No. But he takes his evening meal in the upper servants’ hall now. He will be there later.”
“Find him on his way there. Tell him to come directly to the library after his supper. I will try to find out what he is doing.”
“Oh, but Princess, if he knows I’ve told you anything he’ll be so angry!”
“I will not let him know what you have told me, Rose, but I do need to speak with him.”
In the library that evening, I returned the first volume of Captain Heliotrope to its rightful place and took down the heavy second volume from the oak shelf. I sat awhile, leafing through the pages as I waited. I did not have long to wait. Jem came in and gave
a shallow bow, but did not look at me.
“Close the door behind you,” I ordered, using my best royal voice, but he did not seem intimidated in any degree. He looked just as Rose had described—arrogant. The usual cheeky glint in his eyes had been replaced by a look of sharpness.
“You wanted to see me, milady?” he asked, standing with feet planted apart and his hands held behind his back, his head high, looking straight ahead. I noted he was not so thin as when I had last seen him some weeks before. He certainly had been eating better of late.
“I am aware you are in the particular service of the king, privileged to attend upon him in his private chambers.”
He raised his eyebrows, but did not answer.
“I want to know what it is you do up there, above the king’s study chamber?”
He glanced directly at me for the first time.
“Did my sister tell you about me?”
“I saw you myself. I want to know what it is you are asked to do up there. I think you may be in danger.”
He looked as if he would like to make a rude retort.
Yes, I thought to myself, arrogant is the right word.
“I’m not permitted to speak of what I do for His Grace.”
I stood up and moved towards him. “I know my Uncle, Jem,” I said quietly. “He is not a good man; I think you are in danger. If you tell me what it is you do, then I may be able to help you.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a mocking sneer and he looked at me as if to say, “You?” He did not say it, but it was in his hard, grey eyes.
“I will not be disloyal to the king,” he said loftily.
“Your sister is very worried about you.” I had not wanted to bring Rose into this, but I needed to get through to him. “She has told me of your life together before you came here, about your father and your mother, the home you lost, and about John.” His expression softened as I named his loved ones. I saw his eyes change, as if something lifted from his spirit as I recalled him back to his true self with the mention of his family. It was most remarkable to see his eyes visibly alter from stony grey back to the same lavender grey of Rose’s eyes.