I had started to shiver. Not from cold, or even from hunger—Megan had fed me before we had set out that morning. But I was beginning to realise that this was the end of my journey. I was going to see the Queen!
Would she be as grand as Nanny?
Suddenly it seemed undignified to be carried into what would be my home. I struggled to get down, but Megan held me tight. To be honest I was grateful. It would have been fine to stroll through those doors as though it were already my territory. But there were so many feet about and those steps looked too steep for my short legs.
And then we were inside.
My first thought was that it smelt like home. The same smells of baking, of meat turning on the spit, of dogs…
Dogs! Small dogs, too, by the smell of them, not galumphing scent hounds and mastiffs. My tail perked up of its own accord. I hadn’t realised how lonely I was for others of my kind.
‘Another animal for Her Majesty!’ A man bore down on us. He was clad in black, the furry stuff I later learnt was called velvet, with silver lace on his legs and sleeves. Megan bobbed down in a curtsey to him as he held out his hands. ‘You may give the dog to me. Only one this time? I ordered two, a matching pair.’
‘If you please, Sir, the other pup died.’
The man shrugged. ‘It can’t be helped. Come on, girl, hand him over.’
Megan looked stubborn. ‘If you please, Sir, the wee beastie is for Her Majesty.’
The man gave a brief smile. ‘Your sense of duty does you credit. But I am Master Beaton, Her Majesty’s Master of the Household. You can trust the beast to me, I think.’
Megan curtsied again. ‘But, Sir—Master Beaton, I mean to say, hae ye ever cared for a pup before?’
The man smiled again. ‘I admit that in all my years with Her Majesty I have never myself looked after a puppy. Very well, as you are so nearly concerned with the welfare of Her Majesty’s property, I will bring you someone who does know dogs.’ He clapped his hands. ‘Ale for this good child, someone, while I show Her Majesty her new toy.’
He strode away.
We didn’t have long to wait. Soon he was back, following a woman. She was small, like Megan. She had shiny brown hair too. Her black dress was shiny as well, and rustled when she walked. More sparkly things winked at me on her front and wrists.
I felt Megan’s hands clutch me harder. She bobbed down again, even deeper this time. ‘Your Majesty!’
The woman laughed. It was such a loud laugh for such a tiny woman that half the kitchens stopped to listen. ‘Stand up, girl! I’m not the Queen! You could put two of me together and the Queen would still be taller!’
‘But your dress, Madam. It is so beautiful…Your jewels…’ stammered Megan.
‘I attend the Queen. My name is Mistress Kennedy.’
‘Yes, Mistress.’ Megan bobbed again.
‘Now, where is this dog?’
‘Yip!’ I said.
Mistress Kennedy stared at me. ‘That? That’s not a dog! That’s a mouse!’
‘Yip,’ I muttered.
‘Indeed, Mistress Kennedy, he is a dog,’ said Megan earnestly. ‘And a good boy too. Well, most of the time,’ she added honestly.
Mistress Kennedy let out a sigh like a bellows puffing a flame from the coals. ‘Why couldn’t they have sent a proper dog? A mastiff, or a hound. What use is a scrap like this?’
‘If you please, Mistress, the Queen’s man said she wanted a small dog.’
Mistress Kennedy’s face clouded for a moment. ‘It’s true. It’s no life for a large dog here. Nothing for Her Majesty to do but sit, and sit, then in the afternoons we sit some more…Well, pass him over, girl.’
‘You…you will take care of him?’
Mistress Kennedy’s voice was gentler suddenly. ‘I’ve had dogs all my life, at home and then with Her Majesty. Dogs to hunt with, dogs leaping at our sides as we rode…’ For a second there was longing in her voice. Then it vanished. ‘Well, hand the mouse over. If a mouse-dog is what Her Majesty wants, then she shall have it. Whatever can amuse her in this cursed place.’
‘I…I think it a grand place, Mistress.’ Megan still held me close.
‘A prison is still a prison, girl, no matter how fine its furniture. Her Majesty has been sitting in her prison for fifteen years. And so have those of us who love her.’ Mistress Kennedy held out her hands. They were soft white hands, but they looked square and capable.
Megan dropped a kiss on my head. ‘Be good,’ she whispered.
‘Yip,’ I said.
Mistress Kennedy knew how to hold me, under her arm with a firm hand under my tum.
I glanced back as she strode through the kitchens. Megan slumped, behind us—I felt sorry that she wasn’t to see the Queen with me.
And then I thought of Megan no more. My tail didn’t know whether to droop between my legs or wag. I was going to see the Queen!
CHAPTER 6
I Meet the Queen
The Manor, Sheffield Hunting Park, Summer 1583
Suddenly the smells of meat and bread were behind us. Along a hall and through some rooms we went, with Mistress Kennedy’s skirts swishing all the way. Then up some stairs—I wriggled with excitement. Mistress Kennedy gave me a little shake. ‘Behave yourself, mouse.’
Through more rooms, past windows and doors, all big and all bewildering. And then she stopped.
We were at a doorway, like all the others but for one thing—two guards stood either side, with long pointy things in their hands and short swords in their belts. On the other side of the door stood a young boy, as gorgeously dressed as Master Beaton.
‘You may announce me, Master Pages.’
The boy dropped into a bow, then turned to face someone in the room. ‘Mistress Jane Kennedy is back, Your Majesty.’ Then he added, ‘And a fat puppy too.’ There was laughter in his voice this time.
I was almost widdling with excitement now, especially as I hadn’t been before.
‘Tell Jane Kennedy to enter. And the puppy.’
It was the voice of a woman, but not like any woman’s voice I had ever heard before. Each word was clear, like a bell calling the men to dinner from the fields, but as sweet as a meadowlark singing too. This voice had the authority of Mam’s Master, of the guards, but more, much more. More even than Nanny Breeks. We dogs recognise a top dog, one whose smell and voice say that they are to be obeyed by all the rest.
Maybe that was what a queen was, I thought suddenly. A very top dog indeed. But where was she? This room was as big as a kitchen! It was filled with cloth, too. Cloth on the walls, even on the floor. And women on stools…
Jane Kennedy stepped inside with me in her arms. She grinned. ‘It seems there was a mistake, Madam. They’ve sent you a black mouse, not a dog!’
I stared around, trying to find the Queen.
And then I saw her.
At the far end of the room was a platform, covered in a cloth of red and gold. A single chair was draped in red and gold as well, like the sun but all inside a room.
And the Queen sat on the chair.
She was the biggest woman I had ever seen—not fat, like Nanny Breeks, just tall. Taller than the Master. Taller than a door! Even in Jane Kennedy’s arms I had to look up, then up again, to see the Queen’s face.
She was smiling at me.
Her hair was brownish red and curled onto her shoulders. Her dress was black, with silver glinting on her wrist and fingers and her chest. Two spaniels sat at her feet, their long hair all combed and shiny. Their big brown eyes gazed at me contemptuously.
‘Grr yap gff!’ I said to the spaniels. I wanted to show them that I wasn’t scared. I wriggled from Jane Kennedy’s arms onto the floor.
‘Oh, the sweet wee beastie!’ cried the Queen. ‘He’s all big eyes and fur! Jane, how could you call him a mouse! But where’s the other puppy?’
‘Only one arrived, Your Majesty.’
‘Just one?’ The Queen smiled at me as I trotted across the room. ‘Well,
wee beastie, you’ll have to do the work of two.’
‘Yap yrrf wkk!’ I puffed.
The spaniels glared down at me as though to say, ‘This is our territory! Watch out!’ The Queen stroked their heads as I came closer. Her hands were very white, with long fingers, but the joints were red and swollen. ‘See my darlings, Fléance, Douceur, you have a new brother. Or is it sister?’
‘Brother, Madam.’ Then Jane added, ‘You had better explain to them that he’s a dog, not a mouse, Madam, or they may eat him.’
‘Shh, Jane. You dogs must be friends. For you spaniels are French, as I am, and he is Scots, as I am too. You must make a good alliance just as our countries have.’
‘Grrf?’ I said. I struggled up onto the platform.
‘Yap!’ I said triumphantly. The spaniels looked down their shiny noses. One of them yawned. The other scratched himself.
‘Oh, you sweet wee beastie,’ said the Queen again, as I plonked my bottom on the edge of her skirt and gazed up at her.
Her face was still too high up to see clearly, but I could smell her now. Every person has their own scent. Hers was complicated—a smell of flowers, but of pain and illness too. And there was something else. Something that called to me.
It was as though I’d known her all my life. Was this what Mam felt with the Master? So this is what a queen is, I thought. Someone to obey above all others. Someone to love…
The Queen bent down. She was going to pick me up! But there was something I had to do before she cuddled me.
It had been a long day in the carriage. And I hadn’t had a chance to go before. I squatted down…
It was a big widdle, for I was busting. My bum was damp when I had finished. The Queen lifted her skirt hurriedly as the wee spread across the red and gold carpet. One of the other women gave a small scream. ‘Ooh!’
‘Oh, you mucky mutt!’ That was Jane Kennedy again. She strode forward and grabbed me by the shoulders, with my wet bum hanging down. ‘I’ll take him down to the kitchens, Your Majesty, and send a girl to clean the floor.’
‘Grrff!’ I protested. I tried to bite her fingers. What was she doing?!
‘Stop wriggling, mouse!’ said Jane.
‘Oh, Madam, doesn’t it smell strong!’ cried one of the women.
‘Puppy wee,’ said Jane disdainfully. ‘Who knows what he’s been eating.’
‘Grrff!’ I cried again. What was wrong? All I’d done was have a widdle! Why were they making faces?
But at least I could see the Queen better from up here. And she was smiling, in spite of the cries of her women. ‘I think we shall call him Folly. What do you think?’
‘A perfect name, Madam. I’ll take him back down to the kitchens till he’s learnt his manners.’ Jane dropped a curtsey and began to back out of the room.
‘Grrff wff!’ I yelled.
But it was no use. The Queen was no longer looking at me. One hand casually patted one of the spaniel’s ears as she chatted to another of her ladies.
The spaniels eyed me contemptuously. At least I’ve left my smell in your precious territory, I thought, even if I’m smaller than you.
And I’ll be back!
Then Jane carried me out of the room.
CHAPTER 7
I Learn to Go Outside and Not Do THAT on the Carpet
The Manor, Sheffield Hunting Park, Summer 1583
‘Yap!’ I cried. I tried to glimpse the Queen again as we went out.
Jane gave me a little shake. ‘Behave yourself!’ She shook her head. ‘Just what we need—another animal to make a mess. As if the birds aren’t enough trouble.’
Jane smelt of buttered toast. I thought it was a pity that someone with such a good scent should be so mean. She looked at me critically. ‘Why couldn’t Her Majesty get another dog from France, if she wanted one so much? A proper well-bred dog, not a mucky Scottish cur.’
‘Yap?’ I said. I tried to lick her fingers, just to try being friendly. But she held me dangling down away from her. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘you’ll have to learn manners if you’re to visit the Queen. You learn to behave yourself, do you hear? She has enough to bear as it is. The pain is worse lately too. Though what can anyone expect, cooped up in there, never allowed to ride in the sun…’
She ran down the stairs, her skirt trailing behind her, then strode into the kitchens again.
The kitchen hall was as crowded and busy as it had been before. The women stopped their work as we came in. Jane was smaller than any of them, but they bobbed down to her just as Megan had done. The men bobbed too, though in a different way from the women, even the one they called Monsewer. Jane beckoned to the nearest woman. But Megan ran over to us. Her face was anxious as she saw me dangling in Jane’s hands. ‘What’s wrong? Doesn’t the Queen want him, Mistress?’
Jane handed me over as though I were a small sack of oats. ‘Her Majesty likes him well enough. But she’ll like him better if he can learn to do his business outside and not on the priceless Persian carpets the Earl found for her.’
Megan glanced at my wet bum. ‘Nae, he didn’t…’
Jane grinned suddenly. ‘He did. He made a puddle fit for an elephant, not a mouse. Keep him in the kitchens till he learns what’s expected of him. Are you staying in Her Majesty’s service, girl?’
‘Nae, Mistress. In a se’ennight I’ll go back with the carriage.’
‘Seven days should be enough to teach him manners. If he can’t learn in that time he won’t be good for much. By the way, the Queen has called him Folly.’ She left in a swish of skirts.
I licked Megan’s fingers. They tasted of salt fish. I was glad to see her again. She was familiar, and she found me good things to eat.
But my heart was back upstairs, with the woman with the red-brown curls and the scent of flowers.
The Queen.
Now all I had to do was work out how to get back up there.
It was quiet out in the courtyard now. Our carriage was gone, and our guards too. The only people to be seen were the men in their black and green clothes, walking up and down, with one eye on the manor house and one on the road. But they took no notice of us at all.
Megan put me down on the cobblestones. She seemed to want me to do something. But what? I didn’t want to be in the courtyard. I wanted to see the Queen! And if I couldn’t see her I wanted to be back in the kitchens, with all those interesting crumbs to snuffle on the flagstones.
Finally Megan took me back in again, just as those French spaniels, Fléance and Douceur, came downstairs.
I eyed them nervously. They weren’t big dogs, but they were much bigger than me. There was no Queen to protect me down here—and I had been rude to them before. The dogs padded over to me. Fléance gave me an all-over sniff, and Douceur sniffed my bum.
I crouched there nervously. I was trying to say, ‘I’m not challenging you. Really.’ The dogs exchanged a glance over my head.
‘Wuff,’ said Fléance at last. It was an approving sound, as though to say, ‘You’re here on approval. Behave yourself and we won’t object.’ Then he and Douceur trotted over to a big stone hearth on one side of the kitchens. Douceur turned around to see if I was coming too.
So I followed them, making my way through the forest of legs and feet, boots and slippers and bare grubby toes. I was glad they had approved of me. I wanted the Queen to love me, not them, of course. But they were the only other dogs around. A dog needs other dogs as well as humans. I had been so lonely for others of my kind.
There were two baskets on the big hearth stone, close enough to the fire to be warm on the coldest night. The dogs lay down on the warm stone by the baskets, and I sat next to them. But they didn’t sleep. Their ears twitched, and so did their noses. They seemed to be waiting.
I looked around the kitchens. Everyone was bustling about, loading huge platters of food. I was glad to be out of the way of their feet. Even Megan was busy, wiping the edges of great silver bowls.
Now even more people arrived—yo
ung men in fine velvet clothes. They picked up the platters and carried them up the stairs. Were they going to the Queen? How wonderful to be a queen, I thought, and have all that to eat! I watched, feeling the dribble gather at the edges of my mouth. I hadn’t known there were so many kinds of meat in the world!
It was heartbreaking to smell so many good things, and not have any of them.
‘Wuff!’ I muttered, wagging my tail hopefully. I glanced at Fléance and Douceur. Why weren’t they drooling too? But they just lay there with their noses on their paws, as though all these smells were the most usual thing in the world.
My tummy growled. I whined. I couldn’t help myself.
Then suddenly the young men appeared again, the platters still in their hands. And there was still almost as much food on them as before.
I sat up straight. ‘Yap! Yap!’ I yelled, to let them all know that I was hungry too.
Then just when I thought I couldn’t bear it any longer, Mistress Lacy bustled towards us with three enormous china bowls in her arms.
My tail started wagging again. Fléance and Douceur sat up, their tails wagging too. Mistress Lacy put the bowls in front of us.
For a moment I just stared. Fléance and Douceur were already eating, but I couldn’t believe it was all mine! Bits of rabbit, duck, venison and chicken and other meats I didn’t recognise at all, a spoonful of what I later learnt was custard, and gravy, and bread all soggy with meat juices.
All mine!
Actually my bowl wasn’t nearly as full as the ones in front of the other dogs, which I was sorry about. Perhaps it was for the best, or I might have burst.
Where should I start? I licked up the first bit of gravy, then stuck my nose in further. But it was all so good I finally shoved my paws in too.
The Animal Stars Collection Page 47